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jessjad · 17 days ago

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Rightfully deceived

Chapter 4

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3506

Warnings: arranged marriage, abbondanment, jealousy, unpleasent surprises and a little breakdown.

A/N: Okay, so... how do we say? Before it gets better... it gets worse. Right? All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Dean had been gone on a third business trip and this time he told Y/N that he would be gone for almost two weeks. Y/N had known that he was a busy man. After all, his reputation had preceded him. But somehow she had hoped for him to step back from it a little and spend the time with her. Turned out, she was wrong. It had really affected her, but she didn't want to show it to him.

So, she sad goodbye to him. Again. And it felt as if a piece of her heart had been broken off. A piece he did not see and that he just left lying on the ground for everyone else to walk over and step on it. She had expected resistance and irritation, but not such a cold shoulder. But Y/N just wanted to love him. Why did he not let her love him?

After Dean left Y/N started to to fully take over her position. Ellen had already included her in most things, letting Y/N decide how and what to do and everyone seemed to like the fresh air she brought with her.

She finally ordered that the men had to help carry the heavy objects. So not only did they have to carry the full pots out of the kitchen, but also the heavy tubs or washing vats for the laundry. And the men, surprisingly, didn't mind. On the contrary, they enjoyed the opportunity to flex their muscles. Sam had told her about it at some point. She tried not to change too much too quickly and received acceptance. From everyone except Cassie.

The young woman was still frosty towards her, but Y/N tried not to let it bother her to much. She would need to come around eventually. Or Dean would need to make an decision in the end. And none of them would want that. Hence Y/N always remained friendly and sometimes even tried to start a conversation with Cassie, but she always turned her down. However, she wouldn't let that deter her.

It's been almost two weeks again since Dean had left and Y/N missed him. But she started to feel more and more at home with each day. The castle was big, she had gotten lost a few times, but it exuded a cozy calm. The color of the carpets and curtains, the dark wood everywhere, it all reminded her of Dean somehow. The vast countryside, which seemed almost barren when the weather was good, also suited her husband. He also loved to ride horses and the landscape was perfect for that. It was as if his spirit was everywhere, influencing everything and giving life to everything around him. Even if he wasn't there. But maybe she was just lovesick by now.

"How are you holding up, pretty?"

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts a bit and looked over at Benny, who had just spoken to her. He took care of the horses. She stood at the horse pasture on the outside of the fence and watched Arrow and the other horses as they whiled away their time. She smiled at Benny. A friendship had developed between them.

"It get's better day by day and I actually start to love it here."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"But you obviously would like it more when Dean would be around, too." Benny grinned and Y/N's cheeks took on a deeper color.

"It was not fair to him, Benny. Not at all. And I understand that he's mad."

"But then why did he bring you here? If he would not at least like you, he could've just rejected you."

That was something she had told herself in the beginning too. Something she had hoped for herself. But with every passing day that hope faded.

"Maybe... he just felt pity for me."

"No, pretty. No." Benny came a little closer. "I don't believe that. That's not Dean. You see..."

Suddenly he stopped talking and his brows furrowed. She saw him look past her head and behind her and something in his eyes worried her. So Y/N turned around too, but she couldn't see anything unusual.

"What?" she turned her head back to Benny. "What did you see?"

It took a few seconds before Benny turned his attention back to Y/N.

"I... I don't know." He looked one last time at the spot he had in view, but there was nothing left to see. "But... it looked like someone was standing there... in the shadows."

An uneasy feeling spread through Y/N because she knew that Benny wouldn't joke with statements like that. So she looked behind her again and hoped it was just a mistake.

But by the end of the third week that Dean had been gone, this feeling had become her constant companion. At first she thought it was just her imagination, but after she saw for herself that someone was watching her, she realized that someone was targeting her.

In the meantime she had also told Benny about it, who hardly wanted to leave her side after her confession. At some point this alarmed Sam, who wanted to know what was going on. Even though he spent a lot of time with Millie, he never lost track of what was happening here.

So, the two men started to team up after they agreed on keeping this just between them. The only other person they told was Millie. She was still Y/N's maid and she knew that she could trust her friend. And while they tried to discreetly figure out who might be behind it, Y/N already had a strong suspicion. There was actually only one person left. Cassie.

She was currently in the kitchen, one of the few places where she felt safe, making herself some tea. Lost in thought, she didn't hear Ellen come into the kitchen and place her basket full of vegetables on the table.

"So..." Ellen made herself known and crossed her arms over her chest. "...what's going on here?"

Y/N slowly turned around, trying to look as ignorant as possible. "I do not know what you mean."

"Oh come on." Ellen snorted. "Sam and Benny rarely leave your side anymore and you're constantly looking around like you're looking for something."

That surprised Y/N and you could see it on her face. Was she really acting so conspicuously? Ellen released her arms again and came over to Y/N.

"Don't worry. The others have no idea about it. But I've been in charge here for years and I practically had to help raise Dean and Sam. The two rascals were always up to something. That's why my eyes are just a little sharper than the eyes of others." she smiled a little. "And my mind too. But don't let the men hear that."

After a nervous laugh, Y/N took a deep breath and then told Ellen everything. She knew that she could be trusted too. Besides, she probably knew the place best. She knew all the clan members and everyone trusted her. It wasn't a bad idea to have her on the observer team.

Ellen's eyes widened somewhat in shock. She would never have thought that someone here would do something like that. Y/N was about to tell the older woman her suspicions about Cassie, but it didn't come to that. Jo came running into the kitchen, a small smile on her face.

"Dean is back!" she came around to Y/N and her mother. "He just went in with his stuff and was asking for you."

The blonde young woman looked at Y/N beaming with joy and squeezed her shoulders excitedly. Of course she also noticed that Dean was rather dismissive and distant. She was now all the more happy for her friend and hoped that it meant something positive. Y/N let this affect her and, with her heart pounding slightly, made her way to her husband.

Dean was happy to finally be home again. The business trip had been strenuous and the negotiations had been long. But true to his reputation, he persevered and ultimately succeeded again. Yet another liquor deal that included him as the sole supplier. That also meant that there were more jobs and people were always looking for jobs.

As his castle slowly came into view, he could finally breathe deeply again. As much as he enjoyed traveling, he still preferred wearing things at home. His deputy, Castiel, had everything under control in Edinburgh and he could rely on him implicitly. That was quite a relief and he was grateful for it.

The sun was warm on his back and he had a small smile on his face. But the closer he got to the castle, the more the smile disappeared. At first he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but then he realized what was bothering him. His men carried washing vats and buckets of water to fill them. Instead of training or doing the manual work, they did women's work. What was going on here?

After stopping his horse in front of the castle, he dismounted and marched towards the entrance. Benny came running, but couldn't reach him. He was already in the entrance hall when Jo ran towards him. He asked for Y/N and Jo told him she would get her. He went upstairs to remove his coat and bag before going back outside to talk to Benny.

"How is everybody doing?" Dean asked and led his horse into the stable where Alex took him to rub him down.

"Everything is fine. We were just waiting for you to come home."Benny answered as he walked next to Dean. "This was the last business trip for this year, right?"

"Yes, it was." Dean came to a halt and looked serious at Benny. "What is going on here?"

Benny looked at Dean questioningly, whereupon he gestured to two of his men who were still carrying buckets of water while three maids were doing laundry.

"Oh! Yeah... Y/N has changed some things."

"Why?"

"Because... it just made sense."

And then Benny told Dean about the lamb stew incident and how there were other situations like that. But since Y/N changed that, nothing like that had happened again and the men found it a good change to exercise their muscles. And to impress the women, of course.

That surprised Dean. Especially that these changes were so well received. And even though he might not want to admit it, he saw the logic behind it and it definitely made sense.

Maybe his original annoyance wasn't appropriate after all if everyone agreed with it. And again Y/N brought drastic changes into his life. Even though he tried to stay away from it as much as possible.

"You brought a really good wife home, brother." Benny said and padded Dean's shoulder before he left him with a smile.

But that statement didn't help Dean in the slightest. The only reason he took Y/N with him in the first place was because of the way her father treated her. Even though he was still upset about the betrayal, he could still understand why Y/N had taken Helena's place. There was just too much attached to it and he even admired her courage a little bit. Still, it hadn't given Y/N's father the right to treat her like that. That too had scratched at long-forgotten memories and so he simply couldn't leave her behind. He just couldn't do it.

"Dean!" he heared a familiar voice call after him and he rolled his eyes a little.

Cassie came running down to him again, but this time he was prepared and could stop her before she could hug him again.

"Finally you're back. Have you seen what have been going on here?"

When Y/N came out of the kitchen, she saw Dean disappearing out the front door. She didn't want to keep him waiting and was already running after him when Millie caught her just in time.

"Y/N. Y/N!" the woman was calling out and Y/N stopped in her tracks.

"Yeah? What happened?" now a little alarmed she waited for her friend to speak.

"Dean is back. He just arrived ten minutes ago."

Relief spread through her that what her friend had wanted to say to her wasn't anything worse.

"Oh, I know. Jo just told me that he's back. And he was looking for me." she couldn't suppress a grin.

"Really?" Millie started to grin too. "Maybe the long distance worked some magic."

"I don't know. But I don't want to let him wait to long. It's the first time that he has ever asked for me..." and she tried not to get her hopes to high up.

She was already on her way out again when Millie stopped her again.

"Wait!" she came close to her, so that she could whisper. "Would it not be best to tell Dean... about the situation?"

Y/N had already thought of that. "I don't know yet. Let me first see why he was looking for me and then I will decide."

Millie nodded her head in agreement and Y/N made her way back to Dean. It didn't take long until she saw him, only he wasn't alone. Cassie was standing next to him again. Shouldn’t Y/N be the first to greet him back?

She slowed her pace and tried not to attract attention. The two of them talked and stood so close to each other again that Y/N's heart sank a little. And what she then heard didn't make it any better.

"She changes everything here. She messes everything up." Cassie insisted and took a step closer to Dean. "Why are you letting this happen? I would never do that."

"Cassie..."

"You could've married me. I would never do this." Cassie said and placed her hand lightly on his chest.

Dean didn't say anything to that. He didn't even try to free himself from her grasp and that really hit Y/N.

"And if you remember, Dean... I said I would take over the responsebility from Ellen. Since I was the only woman fitting for it here. Why did you have to take that away from me? From us?"

That was enough for Y/N. She didn't need to hear anything more. With quick steps she made her way back into the castle and without stopping ran up to the bedroom. Once there, she leaned against the door, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had held herself together for so long that Cassie wouldn't let her lose her composure even now.

When she opened her eyes again, she noticed a small package on the bed. It was wrapped in dark green fabric and tied with a red bow. Had Dean brought her something from Edinburgh?

She walked towards the bed and carefully untied the bow. It was almost too pretty to unpack. She opened the fabric and lifted the lid of the box, curious to see what was hidden underneath. But as soon as she realized what it was, she wished she hadn't seen it.

On a bed of red, withered roses lay a severed head of a black cat. And it wasn't long before Y/N let out a bloodcurdling scream that could be heard throughout the castle.

When the scream itself reached Dean outside the castle, he suddenly broke away from Cassie and ran back inside. He already saw Millie in front of the stairs, who was just about to make her way up when she saw him.

"Y/N. That's Y/N!" was all she needed to say for Dean to sprint up the stairs.

"Stay here!" Dean ordered and Millie complyed.

He heard Y/N sobbing in the shared bedroom and was standing in the room just a few moments later. Y/N stood near the windows and was completely distraught. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she held a hand over her mouth to prevent any further loud noises. At first, Dean wasn't entirely sure what the problem was.

"What happened?" he asked in confusion.

With a shaking hand she pointed to the bed and then Dean also saw the small package. Weird. When he was upstairs to put his things down, it wasn't there yet. He took a few steps towards it, but immediately recognized what was inside. And if he was honest, he felt a little sick. But he still wondered what, or rather who, had put this there.

"That's... black magic." Y/N uttered in strangled words.

"What? No." Dean huffed. "That's not magic."

He didn't believe in magic and even though it was a really sick action that he wouldn't tolerate, Y/N had to calm down. He took the green cloth that lay next to the package and covered the inside.

"Then it's a threat. Which is addressed to me." Y/N said a little calmer, but still with emotion.

"Why would anyone threaten you?"

"Because you married me. That wasn't well received by everyone here."

Now Dean listened a little. "It sounds like you have some suspicions about who that might have been."

Y/N hesitated for a second. She actually didn't want to broach the subject like that, but they were now in a completely new situation. So she nodded.

"It was Cassie." she said in a firm voice.

"Oh, c'mon." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Why would Cassie do something like that?"

"Because she wanted to marry you!" was he serious right now? "From the day you brought me here she avoided me. And she made it very clear to everyone else that she does not like me."

That made Dean a little amazed. "I know she's not necessarily easy, but she wouldn't be capable of something like that."

"You thought the same about Helena. And yet, here we are."

That left Dean a little speechless, but he didn't dwell on it.

"I don't know what's going on in your head, but it sure as hell wasn't Cassie." defended Dean the other woman again.

Dean didn't believe her. He simply sided with Cassie. That was enough. She couldn't take it anymore. For the last two months she had endured everything and never complained. His lack of interest in her and the fact that he constantly left her alone. She had endured it all, but now it was over.

"It was her! It could only have been her! I've been followed by someone lately and I..." but Dean did not really pay attention to her.

"But whoever it was, I won't tolerate that. Let's see what I can find out."

"You are not listening to me!" she almost screamed and now earned Dean's full attention.

"I try to talk to you, explain things to you and you don't listen to me! You just don't care! I tell you that it must have been Cassie because she's jealous of me and you don't believe me. Even though her behavior towards you should be proof enough."

"I do... listen..." Dean stumbled over his words, his mind trying to catch up.

And he did. He really listened to her, even if he didn't answer. At first, Dean had found it somewhat strange that Y/N had just started talking. But little by little he started to like it. Y/N talked a lot about herself. What she liked and what she didn't like. She also talked about her childhood and what memories she still carried with her. He had learned a lot about her and without meaning to, it had brought her closer to him.

"This situation isn't easy for me either. I'm giving my all here, trying to stay strong and not let myself get dragged down. I'm trying to find my way in a home that's completely unfamiliar to me, while my husband travels around the world and leaves me here alone." She let it all out.

"Hey, hey!" Dean interrupted. "I'm not just 'traveling around'. I'm making money. For all of us!"

Now Dean felt attacked. Of course it wasn't nice that he traveled so often, but it was necessary. This was how he made a living and, apart from that, he loved his work. So he wouldn't justify it.

"Do I look like I care about your money? No. I never have. But I did care about you! After the whole mess, I just wanted to make it up to you."

"But you can't! You're not Helena!" Dean replied angrily.

"I know that too! And yet you finally decided to take me with you." she fired back, causing Dean to fold his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, I should have thought about that for a minute."

But as soon as those words left his mouth, he regretted them. He didn't mean that. He saw Y/N's eyes fill with tears again and wanted to kick himself. Without another word, Y/N stormed past him to the door.

"Y/N..." he called after her, but it was useless.

The woman had already disappeared from the room without stopping or turning back.

A/N: Yeah, I'm... gonna leave it at that. See you next week! 🫣 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

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thequeenofneverland1 · 5 months ago

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Kol Mikaelson////Bound by Love

Anonymous request: Can I a request a story Kol Mikaelson falling in love with Davina’s little sister and Davina and Marcel not approving of the relationship when they find out that Y/n and Kol ore dating both Davina and Marcel warns Kol and his family to stay away from Y/n but obviously he doesn’t so something leads that Marcel kicks out Y/n you can choose how to end it and thank you :)

Warnings: Betrayal and manipulation by family members, Banishment and exile from a community, Emotional distress and sadness, Family conflict and confrontation,Jealousy and tension between siblings, Betrayal and consequences of actions, Loss of trust and break of relationships, Emotional manipulation and pleading for help, Family members being escorted out of a community, Consequences of betrayal and actions, Tension and conflict between family members, Abandonment and rejection by loved ones

the Mystical town of New Orleans, Kol Mikaelson found himself falling head over the younger sister of Davina Claire. You were kind-hearted and spirited, causing him to fall in love with your infectious laughter and unwavering loyalty.

But when Davina and Marcel Gerard discovered the budding relationship between Kol and you, they were less than pleased. They believed Kol to be a troublemaker, prone to chaos and destruction, and they did not want you to be caught up in his web.

"You know Kol's history, Davina," Marcel warned, his voice filled with concern. "He may claim to love your sister now, but how long before he shows his true colors?"

Davina nodded solemnly, her face clouded with worry. "I don't want her to get hurt, Marcel. We have to do something before it's too late."

Kol entered the room as he waited for you, only to hear Marcel and Davina talking about him. "We need to put a stop to this. Kol can't be trusted."

"You're right. Y/n deserves better than to get involved with a Mikaelson." She tells him.

With a solemn attitude, Kol emerged from behind the door. "I was unable to resist listening in on your talk. I know you're worried, but I'm not going to avoid Y/n. I'm not going to allow anyone to stop me from loving her."

Marcel exchanged a look of surprise with Davina. “You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.”

"Maybe not, but I'm willing to take that risk for Y/n and for our love." Kol states

"How can we be certain that you're not merely taking advantage of her?” He asked, “ We all know how highly your family values power, and she is a powerful witch."

"I can promise you that my feelings for Y/n are sincere, but I do understand your concern. However Her power doesn't pique my attention. I love her just the way she is." Kol states again.

Not believing him, Davina shakes her head. “Additionally, who's to say you won't turn on her when the time is right? Betrayal is ingrained in the Mikaelson family's heritage."

"I know my family has done some terrible things, but I'm not my family. I'm my own person, and I've changed. I want to be someone that Y/n can rely on." Saying this, Kol hopes that they will believe him.

"Words are cheap." Marcel says and Davina nods in agreement

You entered the room, a confused look on your face, you noticed that they got quiet "What's going on? Why does it feel like I walked in on something?"

Marcel and Davina exchanged a glance, unsure of what to say. “Well?”

Kol approaches you while wearing an unhappy face "They were just telling me to stay away from you, Y/n. They think I'm using you for your power."

Your expression turned to anger as you turned to your sister and Marcel. "How dare you? Kol loves me, and I love him. And you have no right to interfere in our relationship."

“Y/n, we’re just trying to protect you.” She tells you.

"I'm not in need of your defense.” You respond, "I need you guys to trust me to make my own decisions and to respect my choices."

You turned over to Kol, "I'm sorry that they're putting you through this. I believe you, Kol. And I trust that your feelings for me are genuine."

"Thank you, darling," Kol grinned. “For me, that is very important. They won't be able to separate us, but I swear to do everything in my power to earn their trust."

“Y/n, we're only thinking about what's best for you. Is it really that wrong that we were cautious about a Mikaelson?" Without attempting to enrage you, Marcel tells you

"No, I can't blame you. But I can ask you to give Kol a chance. He's not his family, and he deserves to be judged on his own merits." You let him know that you understood that his only concern was for your protection

“Okay, all right. However, he will be held accountable to us if he harms you." Your sister gives you a warm smile.

You gave her a smile in return, "fair enough. However, I feel that's not a concern for us."

Kol grinned at you and took your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze before you both left.

"I still don't trust him, Davina," Marcel tells her as they watch Kol and you leave. “He is a Mikaelson, and they are infamous for their deception."

She folded her arms. "Yes, Marcel, I am aware. However, Y/n seems to sincerely love him, and we are powerless to stop her from loving him.”

"I know that but I just don't want her to get hurt. And if Kol does anything to hurt her, I swear I'll make him regret it." He declares

"I feel the same way, Marcel. But for now, we need to give them some space. My sister is a smart woman, and I'm sure she'll make the right decision." She informs him.

"I hope you're right, Davina.” he adds, trying to hide his worries about you. “Because if Kol crosses us, he'll have hell to pay."

“I believe he is aware of it. If he's intelligent, he'll go above and beyond to convince us of his worth." She chuckles as she shakes her head at how theatrical he is being.

Klaus entered the room with a smirk on his face as Marcel and Davina were wrapping up their talk. "Ah, Davina, Marcel. You two were talking about my brother and your beloved sister, and I couldn't help but listen."

"Klaus, what do you want?" Marcel expresses his obvious displeasure that Klaus entered the home without authorization.

Klaus smirks. “Oh stop, I'm just stopping over to say congrats. It appears that my brother has gained Y/n's affection. And he's really in love with her, I have to admit."

"Klaus, you and your siblings don't have our trust." Your sister gives him a furious stare.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I'm well aware. But you might be surprised by what Kol is capable of when he puts his mind to it. He may be a Mikaelson, but he's also his own person. But Rather than that, you guys can trust us."

"Klaus, all your family has done is bring suffering and devastation. What makes any of you worthy of our trust?” Marcel declared he didn't give a damn whether he enraged Klaus or not

Klaus narrows his eyes as he walks over to him. "Careful, Marcel. You may be powerful, but don't forget who holds the cards here."

Refusing to back down, He tells Klaus, "I'm not afraid of you, Klaus, You'll have to deal with all of us if your brother harms Y/n”

"Ah, such loyalty.” Klaus began laughing. “But be warned, Marcel. I won't hesitate to protect my family, even from you. And if Kol loves Y/n as much as you claim, I'm sure he won't hesitate either."

“We'll do whatever it takes to protect Y/n, Klaus. Even from you and your brother."

"Very well, then. Let the games begin." He declares.

"We mean it, Klaus. Keep your family away from Y/n. We won't tolerate any interference from the Mikaelsons." Your sister warns him.

"Davina, you really need to get better at picking your battles. You're in no position to make demands of me or my family." He tries to go in front of your sister while telling your sister, but Marcel moves in front of her. “We're not afraid of you, Klaus. And we'll do whatever it takes to protect Y/n."

"Very well, Marcel. But don't forget, I have eyes and ears everywhere. And if I catch wind of any harm coming to my brother or Y/n, there will be consequences."

She shook her head. "We're not the ones you need to worry about, Klaus. It's your family's reputation that precedes you."

"And besides, I doubt Y/n would appreciate you speaking for her, Marcel. She's a strong, independent young woman who can make her own choices. And if she's chosen to be with my brother, it's because she sees something in him that you clearly cannot."

Marcel lashes out, saying, "Klaus, you think you know everything. But take note. you will suffer consequences if your family hurts Y/n."

Klaus chuckles once more. "Oh, Marcel, I've made my share of payments. And if it means defending my loved ones and myself, I'll be happy to repay them. I have to take care of some more pressing affairs, so please excuse me."

“Naturally, by arranging with your brother to take advantage of her and make her go insane.” Your sister yells at him.

"Become insane? Oh, please. Given Y/n's strength as a witch, why would we ever wish to hurt her? She's significant to me and the rest of my siblings because she's important to my brother." He informs both of them.

Marcel chuckles, obviously not buying it. "Klaus, you've hurt a lot of people who were significant to other people in the past. What makes us think you would treat Y/n any differently?”

She gives Marcel a nod of approval "We won't take any chances when it comes to Y/n's safety. She must not be around you and your family, or else there will be consequences .”

His eyebrows shot up. "Davina, is that a threat? If that's the case, I advise you to carefully consider what you say next. You don't want my family and I to become your enemies. Or maybe my brother and my family aren't the source of your issue at all. Maybe you're simply jealous that Kol chose Y/n instead of you. Seeing your younger sister with the man you desire for yourself must be difficult."

"How dare you!" she yells at him, furious. “You have no idea who I am or what I'm into."

He grinned, "I guess I know more than you think. You're not as adept at controlling your emotions as you believe you are. Additionally, if I were you, I would exercise caution when making enemies of people who are able to see right through you."

"Enough, Klaus. You've made your point. Now leave us alone." Marcel leads him to the door

"Davina, there's one more thing. It's fortunate that my brother picked Y/n over you. You're not worthy of him or any member of my family. On the other hand, let's simply say that your sister is everything and you're not." He conveys to her

"Leave!" she fiercely gestures toward the door.

He laughs. "As you wish. But keep in mind that I'll stop at nothing to keep Y/n and my brother safe. My brother loves Y/n. Therefore, don't cross my family or me. The outcomes won't be to your liking."Before leaving, he issues the warning.

“That arrogant, self-righteous, son of a..."she furiously tries to say but she gets stopped by Marce placing a hand on her shoulder. "Davina, calm down. He's not worth it."

"How can I calm down after everything he just said?" she asks, staring at him foolishly.” He essentially threatened me and called me worthless."

"I know, but getting worked up about it won't help. We need to focus on protecting Y/n, not on getting revenge on Klaus."

"But he can't just get away with saying those things!"

"I promise you, Davina. He'll have his desserts. However, let's keep Y/n secure from him and his family for the time being." He smiles and comforts her, "But for now, I'm going to go talk to Rebekah, and hopefully she can help us."

Rebekah nods in agreement with Klaus's statement. “I regret to inform you that my brother is correct in two particular regards. Even though Davina won't acknowledge it, she does feel something for Kol. Marcel, let's be honest. Y/n is more attractive and intelligent than Davina could ever be. It makes sense that Kol choose her over her sister."

Marcel is furious that his beloved agrees with her brother, "Rebekah, that's not fair.Davina has gone through a lot."

She shrugs her shoulders."everyone has. she’s not the only one. But whose fault is that? Davina made her own choices, just like Y/n has. And if she's jealous of her sister, well, that's her problem, not mine."

He sighs. "I don't know what to do, Rebekah. I want to protect Y/n, but I don't want to drive her away."

She rolls her eyes. "Then maybe you should stop listening to Davina and start listening to your heart. Sometimes the best way to protect someone is to give them the space they need to make their own mistakes."

Rebekah knocks on Klaus's door "Hey, big brother. Mind if I come in?"

Klaus smiles "Ah, sister. To what do I owe this honor?"

She sat down on the bed. “Marcel was here and we were talking. And you were right. Davina is jealous of Y/n."

He nods "Of course she is. Davina's always been a bit of a wild card. And Y/n... well, let's just say she's a rare gem, even by Mikaelson standards."

She smiles at the thought of you. "I know. She's smart, beautiful, and completely fearless. It's no wonder Kol fell for her."

"Indeed. And if Marcel and Davina aren't careful, they're going to push her right into our brother’s arms. Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"I know.”

He expresses concern to his sister "Maybe we ought to monitor Y/n more closely. I wouldn't rule out Davina making a stupid attempt."

"You're right," she nods. “It's not like Davina is known for her self control. However, caution will be required. We want Y/n to not feel as though we are suffocating her.”

“I concur. We'll need to keep our distance. However, not even Davina will be allowed to jeopardize my brother's happiness." He informs his sister of the consequences.

She smiles at her brother, "You really have taken a shine to Y/n, haven't you, brother?"

He shrugs his shoulders with a smile."What can I say? She's a remarkable young woman. And she makes Kol happy. That's enough for me."

"What? Davina is envious of Y/n? That's unbelievable.” Kol says, quite unexpectedly.

"Brother, believe it. And we must exercise caution. I refuse to allow Davina or anybody else to jeopardize Y/n's security." He informs him.

Kol declares emphatically, "Brother, neither will I. I'll stop at nothing to keep Y/n safe, even if it means putting my life in danger."

"It's so sweet to see you so smitten, Kol," Rebekah says with a smile. “But maintain your vigilance. Davina is erratic, and we never know what she will do.”

Kol gave a nod. "Sister, I won't. I swear. I'm completely devoted to Y/n, and I won't allow anything or anyone stand in our way."

You were initially skeptical of Kol's claims, but eventually started to see the possibility of your sister's jealousy. “Davina is jealous of me? No way. She's my sister, she wouldn't do something like that."

“I know it's difficult to accept, darling. Klaus and Rebekah are sure And I'm concerned about her potential actions." Kol informs you

"I... I don't know," you scowl. “Although Davina might be erratic, I never imagined that she would feel jealous of me. particularly with a man."

He took your hand. "Listen, darling. No matter what happens, you have to know that I love you. And only you. Your sister doesn't factor into this at all."

You gave a sorrowful smile. "Regards, Kol. You do, I'm sure. I simply never imagined my own sister could be that self-centered, and I love you too."

You decided to confront your sister about her alleged "Davina, is it true? That you are jealous about me and Koi?"

"What? No, of course not! How could you even think that?" Davina asked shocked

You shrugged your shoulders "I don't know what to think, sister. But Klaus and Rebekah seem to think you are."

Your sister angrily tells you. “They're lying to you, Y/n! They're trying to turn you against me because they're afraid of how powerful we are together."

"I don't know, Davina. I just want to know the truth." You said confused

Davina pleaded to you. “The truth is that I love you, sister . And I would never do anything to hurt you. Please, don't believe what Klaus and Rebekah are saying. They're just trying to manipulate you.”

As you recalled Davina's previous attempts to make Kol jealous, you realizes that your sister's behavior aligns with Klaus and Rebekah's claims were true

Davina gazed into your eyes with tears in them. "Y/n, no. You must have faith in me. I'm not envious. You're my sister, please. Nobody knows me as you do."

You shook your head “I don't know, Davina. I want to believe you, but... (you pauses, remembering Davina's previous behavior) …”that's why you asked if I had a guy friend for you to date. You were trying to make Kol jealous, weren't you?"

She was stuttering. "No... no... I….I just wanted to get his attention.It was not intended to be meaningful.”

You cast a somber glance at her. “I adore you, sister, but Klaus and Rebekah are correct. You're envious of Kol and me. And that's unacceptable.”

"Enough, all of you! Can't you see that this is tearing Y/n and her sister apart?" Marcel tells the three of you and he turns to look at you, his face full of anger. "You know what, Y/n? I thought you were better than this. You're not family, and you never will be. Get out."

"Marcel, what are you saying?" you questioned in shock. “I can't just be kicked out!"

He angrily tells you. "I can, and I will. Davina's my family, and I won't have you causing her pain."

Kol intervenes to protect you. "Marcel, stop up! Y/n isn't to blame for this. It was Davina who started this whole thing.”

He ignores Kol and he points to the door. “I don't care, Kol. Y/n's no longer welcome here. Now leave, before I make you."

"Fine, Marcel. I'll go. But you're making a big mistake." You said leaving as Kol comforted you. “Shh darling I’m here.”

Upon arriving at the Mikaelson mansion, Kol and you are warmly welcomed by the Mikaelson family, who make it clear that you are now one of them.

Elijah greets you with a smile. "Welcome, Y/n. We're so glad you're here. Please, make yourself at home."

Klaus smiles at you as well. “Indeed, Y/n. You're family now, and we protect our own."

Rebekah hugs you. "Marcel's a fool for kicking you out. But don't worry, we'll take good care of you here Sweetie."

Kol holding your hand. “I told you, darling. You belong here with us. You're a Mikaelson now, always and forever."

You were overwhelmed. "Thank you all so much. I don't know what I would have done without you."

One year later, Kol and your love for each other has only grown stronger, and the two of you decide to tie the knot. While the absence of your sister and Marcel brings you sadness, your new family is here to support you on your special day.

The wedding ceremony is beautiful, with you looking radiant in your dress and Kol beaming with pride as he watches you walk down the aisle with his two brothers. However, as the ceremony progresses, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness as you notices the empty seats where Davina and Marcel should be

Kol noticed your sadness. “Darling, what's wrong? This is our big day. You should be happy."

You carefully wipe off your tears trying to not ruin your makeup. "I know, Kol. I'm just sad that my sister and Marcel couldn't be here. I miss them."

Klaus stepped in since he overheard you. "Don't worry, Y/n. We're your family now, and we'll always be here for you. Today is about you and Kol, and no one else."

Rebekah pulled you into a warm hug. "Don't let them ruin this day for you, sister. You deserve to be happy, and we're here to make sure you are."

Elijah smiles as he nods. "Indeed, Y/n. Today is a celebration of your love for Kol, and our love for you. Let's make it a day to remember."

You smiled back. "Thank you all so much. I'm so lucky to have you as my family."

Kol takes your hand. “darling like I told you. You're a Mikaelson. And that means you're never alone."

As the ceremony continues, your sadness gradually fades, replaced by the joy and love of your family. Together, they celebrate the union of Kol and you, and the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

Months later, you and your family are out in the city when you guys witness a surprising turn of events. Davina and Marcel, who had been absent from your life for some time, are being banished from the city. Despite the tension between them, you feel compelled to confront your ister and former friend.

You guys watched as Davina and Marcel are escorted out of the city, their belongings scattered behind them. Davina catches sight of you and tries to approach you, but the Kol and his siblings step in to protect you

Kol defensively tells her. "Stay back, Davina. You've done enough damage."

"Please, Y/n. I just want to talk to you."Davina pleaded

"It's alright, guys. I can handle this." You told them.

Klaus looks at you unsure. "Are you sure, Y/n? We don't want you to get hurt."

You nodded . "I'm sure. Davina's my sister, after all. I need to face her."

Davina reveals the reason behind their banishment, which involves Marcel's wrongdoing. "It's all Marcel's fault, Y/n. He made a deal with the enemy behind our backs, betraying our coven and putting everyone at risk. When the elders found out, they banished us both from the city."

you looked at him, shocked “Marcel, is this true?"

He defensively puts his hands up in the air. "I did what I had to do, Y/n. They were threatening to expose us to the humans. I had no choice."

You angrily yelled at him." So you sold out your own people? How could you do that, Marcel?"

Your sister pleaded to you as she got on her knees “Please, Y/n. You have to help us. We have nowhere else to go."

You let out a sigh. “I don't know, Davina. You both betrayed me. Why should I help you now?"

Davina and Marcel beg you for help, hoping that your connections with powerful people could offer them a lifeline. However, your loyalty now lies with your family, who have stood by your side when Davina and Marcel didn't.

She starts to cry, “please, Y/n. We need you. You know powerful people. You can convince them to help us."

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, sister. But I'm not going to betray them like you betrayed me. They're my family, and I won't turn my back on them."

Marcel angrily tells you. “So that's it? You're just going to leave us out here to fend for ourselves?"

You firmly back at him. "You made your choices, Marcel. And you have to live with the consequences. Good luck to both of you."

As you walk away from your sister and Marcel, Klaus can't resist a final parting shot, emphasizing the consequences of their actions. "I did warn you, didn't I? But you chose to ignore me. Now look where it's gotten you. You should have listened to me, and maybe things would have turned out differently."

Davina scowling. "Shut up, Klaus. This is all your fault."

Klaus laughs. “Oh, please. You're the ones who dug your own graves. Don't blame me for your own stupidity."

Rebekah turned over to Kol. "Come on, get Y/n out of here. She doesn't need to see any more of this."

Kol nods at his sister."You're right.” And he takes your hand. “Let's go, darling.”

As Kol and you walk away from the confrontation with Davina and Marcel, Kol decides to lighten the mood by revealing a surprise for you.

He grinned at you. "Hey, darling . I know that was a tough situation, but I've got something that might cheer you up.”

You asked curiously. "Oh? And what might that be?"

He teases. you. “Well, you'll just have to wait and see. But I promise it'll be worth it."

You smiled. “You're such a tease, Kol Mikaelson. But I'm intrigued. What's this surprise?"

He laughs. "Patience, Y/n Mikaelson. All will be revealed in due time."

As Kol and you continued walking, you can't help but smile at Kol's playfulness, grateful for his ability to lift your pirits even in difficult times.

Kol leads you to your surprise, keeping your yes covered until the two of you arrive at the destination. When he finally reveals the surprise, it's a beautiful house that he has acquired for him and you. Kol explains his reasoning behind the gesture, which elicits a laugh from you.

You laughed at him. “Oh, Kol. You really think the interruptions will stop just because we have our own house?"

He nods with a smile. "A man can dream, can't he? But seriously, I want us to have our own space, where we can be alone together whenever we want."

You smiled. "That sounds wonderful, Kol. Thank you."

Kol and you shared a kiss. "Anything for you, my darling. Now, shall we go inside and explore our new home?"

Together, Kol and you enter the house, excited to begin this new chapter of yours and his lives together

As Kol and you are about to enjoy the new home alone, Klaus, Elijah and Rebekah unexpectedly show up, much to Kol's chagrin. They continue their playful teasing, indicating that the interruptions might not be over just yet.

Klaus walks in with a smirk on his face. "Hey guys, we brought pizza!"

With Rebekah and Elijah following Klaus. "And wine, of course. Can't forget the wine."

Kol groans. "Really, guys? You're gonna do this here, too?"

Rebekah laughs with Klaus and Elijah. "Yup!"

You smiled. "Well, as long as there's pizza and wine, I'm not complaining."

The five of you all settle in to enjoy the meal together, relishing in the family bond and the lighthearted moments that you and your family share

#the originals #the originals x y/n #the originals x you #the originals x reader #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x y/n #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikealson x reader #Kol mikaleson imagines #kol mikaelson x you #Kol Mikaelson x Clarie!!reader

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walkingstackofbooks · 4 months ago

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"Are you happier? Now that the war is over?"

It had been meant as a serious question, but from the look on Kira's face, she hadn't caught onto that. "What sort of question is that, 'am I happier'?" she asked, laughing a little as she spoke. "Of course I am! Who isn't?"

Shrugging, Julian forced himself to smile back at her. "No, of course," he agreed. "Silly question."

His smile clearly hadn't been convincing: Kira's own smile had faded as she looked at him more closely, her eyebrows creasing into a frown.

"Have I done something to make you think I'm not?" she asked sharply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No-- no, nothing like that," Julian said hurriedly. "I mean, obviously Odo's gone now, and Keiko and the Chief, and Worf, and... and the Captain... But that-- That's different, isn't it, I guess. You can be sad and happy at the same time, right?"

He cringed, knowing that he hadn't quite managed to make sense there: years of practice had made him very good at recognising Kira's 'baffled' expression.

"All these years," said Kira, slowly shaking here head, "and I still don't understand you, sometimes. Of course I miss Odo, and the others -- and while we're at it, of course I'm still angry and-- and upset about the things that happened during the war..." She made a face, banging her fist lightly against the table. "Damn you, you know I'm no good with feelings, that's... there's a lot more there, besides," she added. "And I'm sure as hell not going into that right now...

"But if you're asking whether I'd rather be here, now, living without the threat of the Dominion or the Cardassians, knowing my friends are alive and safe -- and if they're not, at least being able to mourn them in peace, not having to make decisions that could get us all killed if it goes even slightly wrong... or if I'd rather be back there, in the war -- well. It's no contest, is it?"

"In theory, no, of course--"

"In theory?" Kira asked incredulously. "Julian, are you saying you were happier in the war?"

"No!" he exclaimed: that hadn't been what he'd meant at all. "The war was-- it was... Well, you couldn't be happy during the war, could you? Everything was too awful, it was impossible."

"A lot of the time, yeah," Kira said softly. "And that's gonna stick with us for a long time -- but they're only memories, now. We made it."

"We did," Julian said quietly, his eyes fixed on the table. "I just... I thought I'd be happier, I guess. Now that it's all over."

Kira reached forward, brushing her hand over his. "That's what this is all about?" she asked. "You aren't happy?"

"I never said I'm not," Julian objected hotly, looking back up at her -- but a sigh slipped out of him as he realised he didn't actually have an argument, and he shook his head, slumping back into his chair. Kira watched him, not saying anything.

"No, you're right," he admitted, pulling his arms across himself, almost too tight. "I know I'm supposed to be-- I know, after everything, it's so stupid... But, Nerys, I don't-- I don't think I am?"

Stopping to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat, he noticed he eyes had grown wet, which for some reason made him chuckle. "Isn't that silly?" he asked, leaning forward again. "We won the war, but I'm still not happy."

"No, Julian," Kira replied slowly. "I don't think that's silly at all. It's just... It's just very, very sad." She took a breath, reaching out to hold both his hands this time. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," he said, squeezing her hands tightly. "For a while, I just thought everyone else was pretending, too, so I just went along with it... And then I started to realise that no, you were all actually at least a little bit okay, and so I had to keep pretending, because happiness is so fragile and I didn't, you know, want to make anyone else feel bad just because I..."

He trailed off, shrugging a little. "I don't know, Nerys. I guess I just wanted to check that it wasn't just me, but it is just me, and now I've told you, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad--"

"Julian, no," Kira interrupted. "Thank you for sharing this with me -- I'm glad you told me, okay?"

Ears growing hot, Julian ducked his head, not quite sure to do with the wave of emotion spilling over him. Now that he'd told her some of it, he kind of wanted to let everything out. Distractedly, he started tracing patterns on her hands, pushing into them with increasing intensity.

"It's just-- I'm just..." He stumbled over his words, struggling to give voice to the one thought that he'd been trying to ignore for months. "What if this is it for me? What if I'm like this forever? It's been years, Nerys--"

To his horror, his voice cracked, and he covered his mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to burst out. Hoping that no-one else had noticed, he looked around the replimat; thankfully the other diners seemed more interested in their own conversations than in him and Kira.

"Would you like to go somewhere less public?" Kira asked. Not quite trusting himself to speak, he nodded, and together they left the replimat.

As they walked down the promenade and up to the habitat ring, Kira steered clear of their previous conversation, chatting about the station, her week, her latest grievance with Quark, and Julian was grateful for the respite. But as soon as they were sat down in her quarters, she turned to him with a most serious expression.

"It isn't right, you feeling like that, you know," she said. "I don't have the answers, I don't know how it gets better -- but we both know someone who would. You haven't tried telling Ezri any of this, have you?"

Julian's stomach tightened: Ezri was the last person he wanted to have this particular conversation with. "Oh, yes, because that would go so well," he retorted sarcastically. "Hi Ezri, I love you, but you don't make me happy. Don't worry, it's not you, I'm just unhappy most of the time. Most of the time? Yeah, it gets better when I'm around you, because then I just kind of feel... nothing. What an improvement!"

"Julian..." whispered Kira, but it was all coming out now and Julian couldn't make it stop. He rose from the sofa, starting to pace as he spoke.

"Did you ever make me happy? Maybe, sweetheart, but I'm not even certain of that. I might have been so desperate for anything even resembling happiness that I just deluded myself into thinking I was in love... Do I even love you? Who the fuck knows, Ezri. Is love even real, or did it die in the war along with every-fucking-thing else?"

His voice had risen louder than he'd intended, condemning him with every word it pushed forcefully into the air. He'd made Kira cry, he thought, but he couldn't quite be sure, his vision being clouded by his own mess of tears.

"How could I possibly tell her that?" he asked, sitting back down heavily, his voice dropping to a hollow whisper. "Kira, how the hell do I tell her that?"

"Come here," she said in way of a response, pulling him against her and holding him tightly, so that he could feel her lips move against his hair as she answered him. "I don't know," she was saying, "but you have to, Julian. I can be there with you if you want but, Prophets, Julian, you have to. How could you not?"

How could he not?

Julian closed his eyes and let himself fall apart against his friend, not even bothering to try to answer her. It was terrifying, after all this time, to finally allow someone to see how broken he really was, but he was far, far too tired to keep it in any longer.

#Julian Bashir #Kira Nerys #Andi writes #DS9 fanfic #weirdly I feel like I've written something along these lines before?#but i can't actually remember doing so?#it might be because all my stuff ends up sounding like this lol i'm such a cliche :P #anyway as ever this wasn't planned it just happened #the past few days there have been like 4 things that have come up in my brain as a little whatsit to just do #i almost started a julian and sisko talk about jadzia during baseball one yesterday #but today i ended up starting to write a song #(i don't miss the war -- but i do miss you)#and then this happened because i can't share the song (yet) but i can share this #wsb

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wardenparker · 4 months ago

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The Stars Re-Align, part 3

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of past drug use, miscommunication, revelations, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: Helping Frankie and Luna get set up for the next steps of their life brings them much closer to you and Rachel. And to the possibility of family. Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who left such lovely comments and tags on this story as we went along! We really love a good One That Got Away story and we're so happy that you all do, too. Please enjoy the final installment! 🧡 As always, the gif is for the vibes, *not* a physical representation of the reader.

Half an hour after the call, when Benny knocks on the door of Fish's apartment, it's Pope who answers the door. "You brought a second army," he observes. There's just a touch of sadness in his smile when his eyes fall on you, but only a touch. In some ways, it just proves he made the right decision that you've dropped everything to come here.

“I was having dinner with them.” Benny shuffles into the apartment and looks around. “What’s going on, man?”

"Everybody come in." If he's surprised to see you, Will doesn't show it.

There's a tall woman at his side doing some very studious typing on her phone and you dimly recall Rachel saying Ben's brother has a long-term girlfriend. What catches your attention and holds it is the figure of Frankie Morales cradling a baby in his arms, and the way it wraps around your heart and twists is terrible. It's jealousy, but you have no right to that particular emotion. Not now or ever.

Settled by the bottle, Luna isn’t crying anymore, but Frankie continues to hold her close. Probably using her as a bit of a crutch himself, he can’t bring himself to put her down, even if she’s fallen back asleep.

The apartment is a mess. Things have been thrown around in a deliberate temper tantrum sort of way and it's clear that some frantic behavior has followed that tantrum, causing a bit more of a mess in the process. "Frankie..." For now you swallow down whatever conflicting emotions you have and walk over to him while the others get settled. "Ben said it was an emergency," you explain, as if you're trying to dignify why you came with Ben and Rachel even though you know that's not strictly necessary. "Are you—is she—okay?"

“You— she’s—” he’s practically speechless that you are here, his gaze darting around the destroyed apartment and he’s embarrassed that you are seeing this. “She’s okay…physically.” He murmurs, bouncing her in his arms slightly and feeling a little off kilter. “Uh— Marie, she, uh, she found Rachel’s phone number in my jacket.” He clears his throat. “She left.”

“She left…like…permanently?” You swallow hard around the implications of that, trying to reconcile what Rachel has told you of this woman with the kind of person that would abandon a child. It’s not the same as what happened with you and Frankie. This, in your opinion, is far worse.

“I think so.” While Frankie had just talked about extricating himself from a relationship with Marie, he had never once considered a situation where she would abandon Luna. He looks down at his daughter, and then his eyes find Rachel’s guiltily. As if he were just as equally horrible.

“What happened?” No sooner does Rachel meet his eyes than she’s crossing the apartment, laying one gentle hand on Luna’s back and very nearly reaching to hug him. She doesn’t know if he would even want that, but the way she almost just added Dad to the end of her sentence makes her own heart break.

He doesn’t want to tell her. Finding it too repulsive to even consider, but he owes her the most truth he can give. “She— she thinks that it was something different.” He tells her quietly. “Like I would cheat, or sleep with Ben’s girlfriend.” He doesn’t even bring up how disgusting it is since she is his daughter. “I tried to tell her that you— that we are—” he curses himself and snorts. “I told her you are my daughter and she didn’t believe me.”

Rachel blows out a long breath and centers herself, hands on her hips just like her father when he’s working something out. “Can I be honest?” Rachel asks, standing between her two parents and shaking her head.

“Always.” It’s not like he expects anything else, but he wants her to be able to share her thoughts and feelings.

“Marie is a cunt, Dad.” Rachel doesn’t beat around the bush, but reaches again to rub Luna’s back. “I’m glad she’s gone, if she really is. Because she’s awful and you two deserve so much better.”

The snickers of the guys showcase their complete agreement with her view and Frankie frowns as he looks down at his sleeping daughter again. “I just— I didn’t expect her to call our daughter a crotch goblin.” He admits quietly. “She was happy she was pregnant. Even if I wasn’t thrilled.” It’s a guilty thought, but he hadn’t been overly joyful at the prospect of having a kid.

“Terrible people say terrible things,” Rachel reasons. She leans forward more this time, waving one friendly finger in her baby sister’s face to make her giggle then places a kiss on Luna’s forehead. “Good riddance. And if she ever says another word against this little angel, I’ll punt her across the Gulf.”

“I— you’re right.” He sighs softly, his heart clenching at the sight of his previously unknown daughter being so sweet to Luna. “I knew she was resentful that I left on a…business trip when Luna was a few weeks old, but I never thought she would take it out on her.”

“Having a child doesn’t automatically make you a good parent,” you reason, with your hands sheepishly stuffed in your pockets. “Just like you can be an amazing parent without ever having children of your own. It’s not clean-cut like that. And it sounds like…like she was not going to be in this for the long run. One way or another.”

His eyes meet yours, sad because it feels like you might be making a pointed statement about him. He just nods and sighs again when Luna kicks, looking down at her and rubbing her stomach as he holds her. “Yeah.”

“I just mean…” He looks so fucking sad that your heart breaks all over again, when you meant to be supporting him. “There are plenty of people in your circle who are going to be ready to help you, Frankie. Just because the woman who gave birth to this little girl turned out to be less-than-ideal doesn’t mean she’ll be alone. We’re all here to help.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He reminds you quietly. “Call it poetic justice.” He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. Not after what he’s done.

“Don’t be silly.” What happened between the two of you is beside the point, as far as you’re concerned. At least it isn’t relevant right now, so you brush it aside. “It takes a village, right? Well, here we are.”

The differences between you and Marie could not be more evident than at this moment. He swallows harshly and he looks back up at you. “Thanks.”

“Okay.” Santiago’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and most of the group takes that as a signal to congregate, all moving toward the living room sofa en masse. “So we have some things to figure out, but the ball is rolling. Jess is getting in contact with a lawyer for custody papers, the clean up here will take maybe an hour at most, and from there it’s making sure Fish and Luna are taken care of.”

“I— thanks again.” Frankie mutters, looking incredibly embarrassed by all of this. “I appreciate this and Luna does as well.”

“If it was one of us, you’d be right there in the trenches,” Benny reminds him. He sits down on the edge of the couch and puts an arm around Rachel when she comes to sit beside him, grateful for nothing but kindness from both her and you.

“I have some work I can do remotely for a week or two,” you offer, knowing that handling a baby alone can be difficult even under the best conditions. “And…I can cook.” A thing which was never Frankie’s forte as a teenager.

“I guess that’s— I don’t want to come between you and your life.” His eyes slide over to Santiago, burying his own jealousy because it’s not fair.

“I have the time and the skills.” It isn’t meant to be a rude reminder, but just an honest one. You’re the only person here who has raised a baby thus far. “I’ll take a personal day tomorrow and then work from home for a little while. The office won’t mind, since I’m still in the preliminary stages of my next project.”

“If you’re sure…” Frankie can take care of his daughter. That’s never been a problem. He’s not one that complains about getting up during the night or changing dirty diapers. But he is trying to appeal the loss of his license and needs to be able to attend hearings. It was good that he had preemptively went to rehab and could provide clean tests. Hopefully it would be enough.

“I have a work laptop, a deep knowledge of Disney and children’s music, and the ability to cook enough to leave you leftovers.” For the first time, your hand moves to his arm and you give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure, Frankie.”

"It won't be for long." He promises. "As soon as I can get my license back, I can afford to get a daycare or a sitter service for Luna." He shrugs slightly. "I can fly again." He's not sure what Santiago has told you, but there's no need to hide anything from you.

“Mom has you covered for a little bit, and Benny and I can help,” Rachel assures him. The deep need to connect to her little sister and be there for her father is strong and already growing.

“And Jess and I will fill in the blanks,” Will promises. Luna will never be without a second set of eyes, Fish. You’ll be able to make your appointments and do everything you need to do.”

Frankie blows out a sigh and he looks around. "Should I move?" He asks quietly. "In case she comes back? Or stay here and if she does come back, we address it then?"

“Move in with us.” Rachel blurts out, unapologetic in her honesty and immediately stubborn on the point as soon as the thought occurs to her. “We have the space, and Marie wouldn’t know how to find you.”

Frankie's eyes widen at the offer and his heart leaps at the idea but his gaze darts over to you. "Rachel, sweetheart...I couldn't possibly do that." He shakes his head when your own shocked face mirrors his. You don't want that and he won't make your life harder.

“Guys, will you give us a minute?” This is not a conversation that you want spectators for, and it only takes a second of hesitation for Will and Jess to stand.

“Let’s start picking up.” Will suggests, casting meaningful looks at Santiago and Benny. This isn’t their conversation. Especially not Pope’s anymore.

Frankie shuffles slightly, biting his lip and wishing that he didn't have to hear the scolding that Rachel was in for. He knows that she only has good intentions, but it's not the same as offering up a place to live for him and a child he fathered by another woman.

“Do you feel unsafe here?” You ask Frankie, wanting an honest answer rather than the one he feels he ought to give. Men have a hard time speaking up in abusive situations for a hell of a lot of reasons and you’re not about to add to his stress. “Like if Marie came back, she might hurt you or the baby?”

"She wouldn't hurt me." Frankie assures you. "But...I don't— I might hurt her." He admits softly. "If she tries to hurt Luna. I'll talk to the property management. Have the locks changed."

“Is there any possibility she would actually try to hurt Luna?” This sweet little baby did nothing wrong, and the part of you that missed out on getting to see Frankie hold your little girl is both savoring and jealous of this moment of his protection.

"If she's high?" Frankie wouldn't want to believe it, but he can't be sure. "I don't know. She's angry at me and she knows that I would die for Luna."

“If she’s—” That is going to have to be a conversation for another time, but you nod your head once and look at Rachel. Your steadfast, loyal-to-a-fault daughter is looking at you so expectantly that you can’t even hold her gaze, and end up looking back at Frankie. “We have a guest room and a safe neighborhood. Our HOA is a pain in the ass but if they know a vehicle isn’t supposed to be in the neighborhood they will have a tow truck in the street before she even gets out of her car.”

"Gatita..." he closes his eyes and relaxes slightly when he feels Rachel take the baby from him. Opening his eyes again, he knows that it's the right choice. "We won't be there long." He promises after a moment.

"You'll be there for as long as you need to be." Will it be awkward, maneuvering around each other? Sure. But this isn't about your comfort level. This is about his safety and the safety of his baby.

******

Your home is surprisingly easy to settle into, but Frankie tries to give you and Rachel space. Finding some of the run ins a little awkward in that ‘navigating new roommates’ waters. Right now though, it’s three in the morning and Luna has woken up hungry. Leaving a sleepy-eyed Dad to shuffle into the kitchen in a pair of sleep pants and a little girl bouncing against his bare shoulder as he mixes up a bottle.

There’s a light on in the kitchen when you come down the stairs, bleary-eyed and dealing with a stupid amount of heartburn from that second helping of chili you shouldn’t have had at dinner. You can hear him before you see him — the gentle shushing of a parent soothing an infant — and you knock gently on the archway to the kitchen before stepping inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” you murmur quietly, not wanting to scare Luna.

“Hey, sorry.” Frankie winces slightly, sure that he’s woken you up. “Baby girl needed a bottle. We’ll be settled down and quiet soon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” When you move toward the fridge too, you almost laugh at the irony. “I came down for milk, too. Heartburn is a bitch.”

He winces sympathetically and nods. “Remember when we were young? Heartburn was something our parents made up.” He snorts, aware that he’s had to change his diet as he’s gotten older.

“I’d give anything to be able to eat the way we did back then.” The carton of milk comes out onto the counter and so does a glass, but you’re self-conscious of giving Frankie enough space so you stay tucked in the corner. “Can I ask…” You shift slightly in place. “How are you adjusting?”

“Day to day, at night, it’s not a lot of difference.” Frankie admits. You have helped him tremendously during the day, but he insists on taking care of Luna himself when he gets back. “I always took care of the baby when I got home.” He tells you. “She needed a break and I didn’t mind.”

“Is there anything you need picked up? Changed?” It’s not your place to remark on his ex-girlfriend’s parenting, or seeming lack thereof, but you have noticed that the only people who contact him are his lawyer and his friends. The guys have been quite active actually, either helping him move the last of his things from the apartment into storage, helping with Luna, or helping him get things organized for his hearings.

“I don’t think so.” He is so grateful to you for everything. “I am planning on cutting the grass tomorrow.” He tells you. “So don’t worry about that.”

“I’m assuming it won’t make a difference if I tell you that you don’t need to do chores?” The Frankie of your past was a stubborn guy, and a nostalgic smile curls your lips.

“No.” Frankie frowns and looks over at you with dark eyes. “You are letting me stay, watching my child and you won’t take my money.” He huffs, slightly offended at the handout. “I can help around here.”

“Just don’t overextend yourself. Your appointments are more important than the lawn.” It’s nice that he wants to help, and you’re not going to stop him, but you don’t want Frankie to get himself behind because he gets obsessed with helping.

“I know.” Frankie nods. “I don’t have an appointment tomorrow. And the lawyers said that it looks promising.” He tells you.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Your own glass of milk is cold and soothing, and you pour a second for good measure. “I was planning on working from home again tomorrow. I hope that won’t bother you too much.”

“Gatita, this is your house.” Frankie reminds you. “You are free to do whatever you want.” He snorts. “If you wanted to walk around naked, I would just have to try to not stare.” He’s tired and he’s been dreaming about you after spending so much time with you. He didn’t mean to say that, but it popped out.

The burning in your cheeks is immediate, that combination of embarrassment and rekindled desire making you quickly look away so he won’t see how much you love hearing him call you Gatita again, or how much you actually want him to mean it when he says things like that to you. It had been deep in your head that the love you still have for Frankie would bubble to the surface with him in your house, but you didn’t know quite how bad it was going to be. “Well…I would say you’ve always been a gentleman, but we were teenagers together. The parts of us that are good at restraint now didn’t really exist back then.”

“No need to be a gentleman when I had you.” Frankie murmurs softly, twisting the cap back on the bottle and shaking it up as Luna grunts against his shoulder. She’s not crying right now, but she will be if she doesn’t get her bottle. “Only had to restrain myself around our parents.”

“Something neither of us was terribly good at,” you admit with a snort. “At least they never actually caught us having sex. That would have been mortifying.”

“Dad did.” Frankie admits, sending you a sheepish grin. “Senior year. He opened the door slightly and immediately closed it. I saw him in the mirror.”

“Oh my god.” You almost drop your glass, fumbling to get it on the counter with little enough noise to not agitate the baby and stifle your laughter at the same time. “Seriously? I am so glad you never told me that.”

He laughs quietly and nods. “We had sworn to never speak of it. And I hadn’t, until now.”

“I never would have been able to look him in the eye again.” Unfortunately, Frankie’s father had passed years ago — your own parents had sent you the obituary. “I sent flowers to the funeral home when he passed,” you admit quietly. “No card or anything, but…it was too little too late. I know that.”

Frankie closes his eyes and sighs softly. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly. “He loved you and he told me that I was the biggest goddamn fool for breaking up with you.”

“We were kids.” It’s not a good reason but it’s still a reason, and you’re not willing to rehash your breakup at 3am over milk with his infant.

“Yeah.” He can see that you are building walls against the conversation. He turns Luna over and pops the bottle into her mouth. “Well…I better let you get back to bed.” He murmurs. “Goodnight.”

“I—” The feeling of being dismissed from your own kitchen is uncomfortable at best, and you frown before setting your glass in the dishwasher and simply stepping away. “Sorry to have disturbed you. Goodnight.”

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave and he hates how it seems like you’ve taken three steps back. Sighing softly, he looks down at Luna staring up at him. “What?” He asks her softly. “I didn’t do anything.”

******

By the next morning, you’ve resolved to apologize. Being short with him was unnecessary and doesn’t exactly make things easier for anyone. Not to mention, Frankie is having a hard enough time as it is without you getting mopey that he hasn’t just sat down beside you on the couch and snuggled you into his side like you want him to.

Getting up early, you head back downstairs and start making up a big pan of French toast and another whole tray of bacon. Sure there’s only three of you, but baking breakfast will give you time to make some fresh baby food for Luna, something you had loved doing for Rachel as well.

Frankie wakes up to the sounds of stirring in the kitchen. Groaning quietly at the aches and pains of his older self. Getting older sucks and it’s compounded by the abuse he put his body through when he was in the Army. Glancing at the clock, he sighs and sits up, grabbing his shirt. He will need to get started on the lawn before Luna wakes up.

The coffee pot has just finished bubbling when he gets downstairs, the rich, black brew piping hot and mixing with the other smells in the kitchen to be nothing short of enticing. Coffee, cinnamon, vanilla, bacon, and apples all mix together in the early morning like a welcoming curtain of comfort.

“Smells good.” Frankie shoves his hat on his head. “Baby’s still asleep. Thought I would get started on the grass.”

"Okay." Even though you nod, you gesture slightly at the baby monitor in his hand. "Do you want to leave that with me? I can get her changed and fed while breakfast cooks. She's got fresh apple and sweet potato puree for this morning."

“You’re too good to us—her.” Frankie huffs, shooting you a small smile. “After I get done, I’ll take her right back. I promise.”

"Frankie..." Your palms sweat and you hate yourself for being so affected by him still, but here you are. So deeply affected that you feel like you're fifteen all over again. "I wanted to apologize. For last night."

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Frankie shakes his head. “I was…out of line.”

"I shouldn't have been dismissive, or snapped at you. It's not out of line to want to talk about our past." Exhaling softly, you lean back against the counter and bite your bottom lip as you debate how much is really wise to say. "It's just bringing up a lot of old emotions and I wasn't prepared to work through them thoroughly at three in the morning."

“Yeah,” Frankie shuffles slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He hums quietly. “I know that it’s hard. I should have just kept quiet.”

"No." You shake your head and take a step back toward him instead of shrinking away again. "No, that's...keeping quiet and hiding things from each other is how I got us into this mess. I don't want to perpetuate that anymore."

Frankie sighs. “No, me being a fucking asshole is what got us into the mess of you raising a kid by yourself.” He tells you.

"I should have just told you." Twenty-four years of hindsight is twenty-twenty. "If I hadn't been so scared, it would have worked out eventually."

“And I should have come back.” Frankie snorts. “I should have found you. Begged you to take me back.” He puts his hands on his hips. “There’s a million things I shouldn’t have done, or should have.”

"I should have figured out how to write to you at boot camp. Or found your parents after they moved. Anything." Your arms cross over your chest in some kind of unconscious half-mirroring of him, but you end up swallowing a sigh. "Rachel does that, you know. Her hands on her hips, like you do. There's so much of you in her and I'm so sorry that you missed some of it."

Those words make him close his eyes. Absorbing them and trying not to let them hurt as bad as they do. “I just don’t want to miss any more.”

"I don't want you to, either." It's a small admission. Also too little, too late. But at least it's honest. "And neither does she."

“I know you don’t – this isn’t ideal.” Frankie admits. “You don’t really want me here. And I just don’t want to overstep.”

"Why do you think I don't want you here?" Can you guess at plenty of reasons? Of course. But you're curious to know why he assumes you would have invited him into your home if you didn't want him here at all.

“Who wants their ex in their house?” Frankie snorts. “I’ve cost you your relationship, made you a babysitter and make you uncomfortable by bringing up a past I can’t forget.” He practically whispers the last part, almost ashamed of it.

Something about the whole scenario just makes you crack in your chest and you almost cave in on yourself, letting the words out before you can stop yourself. Six simple words, but with so much meaning. "I don't care. I miss you."

Frankie bites his lip, curling his hands into his hips to keep from reaching for you. “You miss who I was.” He reminds you. “I’ve become a very different one.”

"So have I." You weren't expecting rejection to sting as much as it does, even though you don't even know that you actually offered enough for him to reject. It still makes you want to cry, though, in a very vulnerable and surprised sort of way. "That doesn't mean we aren't still who we are at the core."

“I’ve…done things.” Frankie admits. “Bad things. Things that would make you curl away from me in disgust.”

"Nobody's pure." But you shuffle a little where you're standing and look up again, actually looking him in the eyes. "Santiago told me about South America. Everything. So I'm not as much of a wilting flower as you might think."

“Never said you were.” He knows you are strong, capable. You raised Rachel by yourself and all the struggles that it entailed.

"I'm not trying to force anything." Though if it happened, you would absolutely not be opposed to it. You've realized that in the three days since Frankie and Luna moved into your house. "I'm just saying, if I didn't want you here, or I didn't want to know who you are now...then you wouldn't be here at all. I just wouldn't have offered, regardless of anything Rachel said."

“Maybe you shouldn’t have offered.” Frankie snorts. “Fuck knows you wouldn’t have if you know what I think about around you.” He’s just determined to beat himself up, still depressed and trying to self-sabotage without the use of coke.

That just makes you scoff, shoving your hands in your pockets weakly because what you really want to do is cross the kitchen tiles and just throw your arms around him like you always used to. "I fully expect you to hate me. I'm not going to make you leave my house just because you rightfully dislike your ex for keeping your daughter from you."

He stares at you for a moment before he laughs. “You think I hate you?” He demands roughly. “Hate doesn’t have me dreaming about seeing if I could beat the goddamn record I set when we were seventeen.” He hisses. “Hate doesn’t have me waking up in the middle of the night with my hand around my cock because you still smell the same and those sheets smell like you. Hate isn’t something I want to do to you, gatita.”

For about three full seconds, all you can do is stand there and stare at him. It's like your mind had shut down trying to comprehend what he is saying to you and is only slowly booting back up like an ancient computer. A small squeak escapes you and all the air goes out of your chest just before water pricks at your eyes, and all of a sudden you're moving straight across the kitchen to kiss him before you can even process what you're doing.

Frankie had fully expected a hand across his cheek, so when you launch yourself at him, he’s shocked. Groaning against your lips for a split second before he’s wrapping his arms around you, one hand cradling your head to keep you close. To keep you kissing him.

He's thicker than he was as a gangly teenager. Age has given him muscles and then softened them again, making him pliant under your touch just as much as you are under his. The powerful magnet of attraction between you leaves no room for questioning in the moment. You're just two people clinging desperately to each other and to hope, and the first slide of your tongue against his when your lips part to deepen the kiss is like coming home. A very specific, very teenage home – but this is still where your heart lives.

Frankie groans, finding it to be his turn to move. Turning and pressing you against the counter as he drowns in this kiss. It feels so right, despite the mistakes that he has made, the sins he has committed, he tastes nothing but the overwhelming sense of rightness in your lips.

He had dipped down to find the perfect angle to capture your soft moan when it crossed your lips, but now Frankie straightens again. Breaking your head so it won’t hit the cabinets, his other hand pulls you close at the waist — expanded, soft from carrying and birthing a baby and simply being alive for more than forty years — as your hands wander his body to recommit every plane of him to memory. There’s a beautiful rosy nostalgia over the kiss even with the nearly feral need each of you feels, and something drastic might have happened if not for the soft cry of surprise that emanates from the half-light of the living room.

Pulling back in surprise, Frankie’s eyes widen when he sees Rachel standing there. “Uh, I—” he glances at you, unsure of what to say at this point.

“Rach, why don’t you go check on your sister?” You suggest, feeling the reason that Frankie might need a couple of minutes to calm down throb and jump against your hip. Not that your restraint is much better. You’re going to need to change your panties just from being kissed.

“Uh, sure, I can do that.” She nods dramatically, whirling around. “Then I—I’m going to go over to Ben’s. All day. I’ll text when I come back.”

“Breakfast in five minutes!” You call after her, not sure if she’s actually heard you or not as her footsteps ascend the stairs all over again. She’s gone again in a flash and you bite your lip when your eyes track back to Frankie, no guilt or embarrassment in your expression, only a little bit of sheepishness at being caught.

“Well, I think that embarrassed her.” Frankie comments as he looks over to you. He doesn’t know exactly what you are thinking, but it’s not regret on your face. That makes a ghost of a smile curl up the edges of his mouth.

“Don’t let her fool you.” The warmth in your cheeks is only matched by the warmth in the rest of you, waves of it crawling under your skin with how close he is. “She thinks I don’t know that she’s wanted her parents back together since she was five years old.”

“She didn’t know me.” Frankie frowns slightly and hopes this isn’t just some kind of wish fulfillment.

“I used to tell her more.” You admit, though you’re not sure if that’s good or bad. It’s selfish, but it was also survival. “I stopped when she got old enough to realize that…” Blowing out a breath, your eyes drop down from his. He probably does not want to hear this, despite kissing you back just now. “That I’ve still always had feelings for you.”

“You— you still wanted to be with me?” He’s surprised that you would, given how he had left. “Baby….its— I’ve always regretted leaving you. I called you.” He reveals. “Several times….but I never could say anything.”

“You called?” Your eyebrows raise back all the way up your forehead, eyes watery with hopeful tears that you refuse to shed and ruin the moment. “Oh no…” A gasp leaves you, almost washing out the sounds of Rachel and Luna cooing and giggling at each other over the baby monitor. “You called…in the two years after you left for the Army?”

“Yeah.” Frankie chokes out, looking away and feeling ashamed that he hadn’t been able to fucking say a word when he had called your house. “After I got out of bootcamp. I would fucking dial your number at least twice a week. Every time, someone would pick up and I couldn’t say a word. Didn’t have the words I wanted to say.”

“And then…after a while…the number stopped working?” You guess, biting back a sigh of regret.

“Yeah.” He frowns and tilts his head. “How did you—”

“Because my parents got their phone number changed after we had so many hangups in such a short amount of time,” you explain, now feeling guilty for what had happened. “They thought it was some criminal or stalker or something. We moved about a year later anyway.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, closing his eyes and berating himself for his fucking stupidity. “I just— I choked every time I tried to ask for you. In fucking Delta training and I couldn’t fucking apologize.”

“No use in being upset about it now…” Those days are twenty years past. A lifetime ago and then some. And you’re stuck in the here and now with your hand still flexing at his hip. “We should…talk, though. Rach is going to have a million questions.”

“Of course.” He nods and slides his hands over his lounging pants. “What— you start.”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it… You tell yourself sternly, eyes flickering down to where his large hands stretch dangerously to other, equally interesting parts of him. “We both just…we were seeing other people. Until literally a few days ago.” If you don’t remind yourselves of that you feel like you’ll burst. “But…I miss you. And I do still have feelings for you. And…and if you’re open to it, when you’re ready, I think finding out how we could be together as adults is— well, it’s a long time coming, would you say?”

That….is not what he expected you to say. He had expected to hear something about taking it slow or perhaps it should be kept quiet, but not that. “I’ve never stopped having feelings for you.” Frankie promises you softly. “And I— I’ve missed you every goddamn day.”

“I’m not going to push you for anything. Not quickly, not ever.” Whatever he wants to have with you, you want it to be freely given just like you intend to give freely. “I kind of…really love seeing you in my house like this…”

He looks down at his clothes, like that might explain what you are talking about. “Rumpled?” He jokes quietly.

“That’s one word for it,” You admit, grinning softly. “I was thinking sexy, though.”

“If tired, ex-military dad is sexy, I guess I’m it.” Frankie smirks.

“It is.” You can’t help but laugh a little. “Definitely.”

He steps closer to you again. “Well, do you want to drool over this tired dad mowing the grass?” He teases. “I’ll even do it shirtless.”

“Eat breakfast with us first.” That is something you’ll insist on, especially since the timer is about to go off on the oven in about twenty seconds. “And then I’ll sit and gawk at the dining room table afterward.”

Frankie snorts but agrees with a nod. “It smells amazing. You are a great cook.”

“You always liked breakfast, so I took a shot that you would like Rachel’s favorite baked French toast.” You’re going to need to open the oven in just a few seconds, but the last thing you want to do is pull away from the heat of him. “I swear I can do more than just casseroles now.”

He chuckles quietly. “Better than me. Although I need to learn. Luna deserves to have a parent who can feed her more than frozen dinners.” You also deserve to have some of the burden lifted off of you, but that’s another conversation.

“I’ll teach you if you want?” There were a couple of family recipes his mother taught you when you were teenagers that Rachel loves, and plenty of other things of course. But when the timer goes off and you’re forced to step away reluctantly, you add: “And I bet Rachel would, too. She’s pretty damn good in her own right. It might be something you can do together.”

“Maybe we can all do it?” Frankie asks hopefully. Wanting to spend time with both of you. “Between the two of you, I might have a fighting chance.”

“Absolutely.” You’re about willing to promise him anything he wants right now, but first it’s just about taking the pans out of the oven and stifling the need to steal one more kiss when you hear Rachel descend the stairs with a happily babbling Luna in her arms.

“Good.” Frankie makes sure you aren’t holding a pan when he swoops in again. Planting a quick, hard kiss on your lips. “Later.” He whispers, much like he had promised so many years ago when you were about to be interrupted.

It’s good that the girls make plenty of noise coming downstairs so no one else can hear the more-than-slightly-pitiful whimper that Frankie pulls out of you, but you snap back into reality well enough to clamp your mouth shut and motion for him to grab plates from the cupboard without imploding.

“Everyone decent?” Rachel calls out before her head pokes around the door. “There’s a small child present!”

“We were never not decent,” you point out, waving your daughter into the room. “Do you want to get your sister’s cup of food or help your dad set the table?” It’s possibly the most domestic sentence you’ve said…maybe ever, and it rolls through you like summer sunrise.

“Whatever you need me to do.” Her grin is wide and proudly embarrassed as she eyes both of you. “Soooooooooooo. Mom.” She tilts her head towards you with a glint in her eyes. “Do we need to have the safe sex talk, young lady?”

“Your very existence is proof that it’s too late for that,” you remind her, but a smirk forms in the corner of your mouth either way. “Let’s all sit down to eat and we can talk a little. Okay?”

“Seriously though.” Rachel turns towards her dad. “You hurt my mom, and I’ll sic Ben on you.” She warns playfully.

“Sweet pea, get your sister settled and we’ll all talk,” you insist, biting your lip a little at the idea of anything going wrong again. You don’t like it and you don’t even want to process it right now.

“Okay.” It’s more you using ‘sweet pea’ instead of anything else that makes her nod and move to get Luna settled in her high chair. You are upset about something, or avoiding it and she wonders what it is.

It takes a few minutes to get everyone settled and served, but you manage it pretty well and Frankie gets Luna fed before digging in for himself.

“So….” Frankie takes a bite, groaning and rolling his eyes happily at the taste of the casserole. “This is good.” He moans. “Like the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten.” He might have been about to start this talk, but now he’s distracted by the breakfast.

"Iknowright?" Rachel mumbles all at once, thrilled to see her favorite breakfast materialize on the table without asking for it.

“So good.” He forks up another bite before reaching for the syrup again to add more to the French toast bake.

"At least I know I can subdue you both with French toast if you get out of hand," you tease, looking between father and daughter at the table and snorting a laugh.

Both of them look up at you at the same time, forks halfway to their mouths, with the exact same disgruntled expression on their faces.

"Goddamn I wish you could see yourselves right now." It isn't that you didn't know Rachel was like her father. You had known that for her whole life. But seeing them side by side throws it into sharp relief. "Look at these two," you coo to Luna, reaching over to tickle the baby's soft and chubby belly in that way that makes her giggle. "They're exactly the same, aren't they sweetheart?"

It’s fucking amazing, how you are with Luna. Frankie had always felt like Marie wasn’t as maternal or soft as he thought she should be, but then immediately felt guilty for thinking that way. He’s just happy that you are obviously thrilled to have a baby in the house. “We have some similar traits?” He asks, looking over at Rachel.

"Apparently a lot." Rachel shrugs, not knowing she does it in the same way as her father and always has. "According to Mom, Ben should have picked up a vibe really fast."

"I think it just made him subconsciously more comfortable with you," you clarify, forking up another bite of your own breakfast. "Which is a good thing. I'm not saying he should have been confused by it or anything."

Frankie chuckles lightly and reaches over to pick up another spoonful of the puréed apples and sweet potato to feed to Luna. “He would have just thought you were weird.” He jokes.

"To be fair, he does think I'm weird," Rachel clarifies. Her coffee is getting low and she stretches to grab the pot for a refill. "But he likes that about me."

He snorts and nods, holding up his cup when she offers to refresh his. “Ben’s weird himself, so that checks out.”

"Weird is better." You've always thought so. Even used to say so when you were younger. "It's more interesting."

“You used to say I was your perfect kind of weird.” Frankie blurts out, remembering when you would lovingly coo it to him. He would always roll his eyes, but he enjoyed it.

"You were." The reminder – the fact that he even remembers you saying that – warms through you and your face burns bashfully. "Probably still are, if we're honest."

“I think that makes you even weirder.” Frankie snorts, shooting you a playful look. “Because….look at me.”

"I'm not exactly the world's most exciting person, Frankie." You aim a shrug in his direction, doctoring your refilled mug of coffee. "It took me a long time, but for the most part I'm happy with where I am in life. That doesn't make me too interesting, though."

“No, nothing is interesting about a strong, beautiful, capable woman who has raised an equally beautiful daughter by herself, made a comfortable life for her and still maintained the sweetness of youth.” Frankie narrows his eyes slightly, hating how you put yourself down.

"And she has a super fucking cool job, too." Rachel pipes up, obviously ready to back her father up on this one. "Working for the Mouse means we get to go to the parks for free. Luna's going to love it just like I did."

“Just because you went, doesn’t mean Luna will get tickets too, sweetheart.” Frankie reminds her.

“Of course we’ll go.” The idea that Frankie doesn’t think you’d treat his baby daughter well hits you somewhere deep in your chest and you work not to frown. “Unless you don’t want to go? Then we’ll just have a girl’s day.”

“It’s not—” he’s offended you, something that he wasn’t trying to do and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way you took it. I just— I never assume anything.” He tells you. “Just because you have tickets doesn’t mean you owe them us, that’s all.”

“It isn’t that I owe it to you.” Reaching across the space at the table in front of Luna’s highchair, you squeeze his hand gently. “But Rach is right, even if she didn’t exactly mean to point it out. We’re a family.”

Frankie looks over at Luna and smiles softly, the baby is shoving her fingers in her mouth and cooing happily. “You ever want more kids?” He asks.

"All the time." You don't mind answering that honestly, but you shrug your shoulders and pick up a piece of bacon from your plate. "I don't relish being referred to as a geriatric pregnancy, though."

“You aren’t geriatric.” Frankie frowns and shakes his head. “Hell— I mean…I thought this was my first go round, but I missed the first.” He hates it, but he reaches over and takes Rachel’s hand with his other. Holding both of your hands.

"Geriatric pregnancies are anyone giving birth over the age of thirty-five." Rachel clarifies for her father, fully putting aside her fork to hold his hand with both of hers. "Mom just doesn't want to feel old. Even though she says I'm the thing that made her old." The last thought comes with a teasing grin thrown your way.

“Hell, I feel ancient knowing I have a grown ass daughter.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “I know she feels the same way, considering she had to carry you.”

Your own half-laugh sounds when you swing your head over to look at him. "You make big babies, Morales."

He chuckles and shrugs slightly. “That might be why Marie was never happy after Luna.” He jokes. “She was nearly eleven pounds, believe it or not.”

Rachel snorts, forkful of food halfway to her mouth, and grins. "Twins. I was eleven pounds, too. Eleven pounds and...twenty inches?" She looks to you when she can't remember.

"Twenty-one." It probably shouldn't, but it makes you laugh at this point. The horror over how big she was at birth is long over with. "The nurse asked me if the father was a giant."

“Definitely not a giant.” Frankie huffs, knowing that he’s shorter and weighs less than Rachel’s boyfriend. But he can still kick his ass.

"To answer your question..." The three of you go back to eating, finishing up your plates with satisfaction. "I absolutely think about having more kids all the time. That's why I love babysitting so much."

“Yeah….” It’s definitely helped him. He had spent so much time worrying about his home life that he couldn’t properly square things away. He owes you a lot. “You’re great with her.”

"If I ever overstep, you just need to tell me." It's been a lot of years since you took care of your own infant. Parenting advice has definitely changed. And as much as you might dream about having another kid, Luna is not your baby. She's Frankie's and that means he has the last word on decisions for her.

“I doubt you could overstep.” He argues but he nods when you just stare at him. “But I will let you know.”

"So..." When the last bite is off her plate, Rachel sits back in her chair with her coffee mug in both hands. "I'm going to go to Ben's..." she repeats her thought from earlier with both eyebrows raised. "All day. Probably for two days...you guys...gonna do anything special?"

Frankie cuts his eyes over to Rachel, knowing exactly what she’s going to be doing thanks to Ben’s fat fucking mouth before he knew she was his daughter. “Talking.” He grunts. “Cutting the grass. Cleaning my guns.”

"Dad..." Since she broke the ice on using that title, Rachel has embraced it. "No guns on Ben."

“No promises.” Frankie huffs. “Fucker deserves it.” He shrugs his shoulders when she squawks at him. “What? I won’t hit anything vital!”

"Sorry, Rach." You snicker softly, under your breath. "This is part of having a Dad."

“I don’t think I like this part.” Rachel rolls her eyes playfully and Frankie rolls his right back.

“Yeah, will I don’t like knowing how my daughter gives a blowjob. So we’re even.”

"Okey dokey." Instantly shooting up from the table, you focus entirely on picking up Luna without looking at Rachel or Frankie. "Gonna take the baby into the living room. I'll clean up later."

“Sorry.” Frankie apologizes as you whisk out of the room like your pants are on fire. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

"She'll get over it." Rachel does smile though, a small and embarrassed expression on her face. "Ben feels like an asshole for talking the way he did, for the record. He apologized to me, too. Even though I don't really care."

“We’ve all talked that way before.” Frankie can admit that. The only reason it became a problem is because of who she is to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t care. “But it’s good he apologized. He really loves you.”

"And I really love him." She promises, absolutely serious. "As his friend, I hope you know that."

“Even as your dad.” It’s a title that always makes him smile when either one of them uses it. “I want you to be with someone who loves you. That’s all I want. He’s a good man.”

"I know it's new..." she sips her coffee as they sit together. "But do you mind that I've started using that name?"

“No.” That’s something he would never mind. “Not at all, I’m….glad you feel comfortable calling me ‘Dad’.” He admits with a small smile. “Just hope that one day that you’re proud that I am your dad.”

"I am proud." Even when he was just her boyfriend's friend, she had always liked Frankie a lot. He's a good guy who doesn't give himself nearly enough credit. "I'm proud of Mom and I'm proud of you, too."

“That…that’s great.” He nods, enjoying the conversation and feeling proud of the fact that she is happy to know him.

"I'm going to clean up and go to Ben's." Pushing back from the table and standing, Rachel puts one hand out to squeeze his shoulder and starts to pick up dishes and stack them in her arms. "Whatever you and Mom end up talking about...just know how much she loves you. My whole life she's never looked at another guy the way she looks at you. I know you mean the world to her."

“You have no reason to really believe me, because of me being gone from your life the entire time you were growing up, but I don’t want to hurt her. Ever again.” Frankie promises. “I think we deserve to be happy.”

"I think so, too." Rachel agrees, but instead of letting the moment get too serious, she throws her father a grin and nods toward the backyard. "So go mow the lawn so she can have a good ogle. I'll clean up from breakfast before I go."

Frankie snorts, aware that her knowledge of that meant she had been eavesdropping, but he doesn’t mind it. “Thanks,” he tosses her his own grin and pushes back from the table to at least clear his plate. “Plus, it’ll be good for her not to have to do the grass.”

******

“I don’t think you will be less than a mama to her.” He hums as he transfers the baby into your arms. “She will only know you as her mother, especially the way you already love her.”

“Sounds like you’re planning on staying.” And while it’s just an observation, your heart leaps up into your throat so you have to swallow it back done just to breathe.

“If that’s what we decide.” He won’t push his way in. Luna yawns and leans her head against your shoulder in a move that makes him smile. “We can talk about it later. She’s sleepy and I need a shower.”

“I’ll put her down for her nap. You go clean up, love.” Honestly? You dread the thought of Frankie leaving again. Even having him leave to go to work will have you in a state of anxiety for a while, even if you’re doing your best to hold it together for the girls’ sakes. Luna needs a steady caregiver and Rachel absolutely does not need to see you anxious or worrying over her father.

“Come talk to me after you get her down?” He asks, knowing it won’t take him long to shower. He would probably be dressed by the time you get her down.

“Absolutely.” Not having to talk over the baby’s head is a good place to start, if nothing else. You lean in when he moves to kiss your cheek again and then part, with Frankie heading to the bathroom and you heading into what is now Luna’s nursery.

Frankie has been trained by the military. He was never an untidy person to start, but an entire career in the Army had taught him how to clean and be efficient in showering. He does take a little more time today, trimming his beard and shaving, wanting to clean up a little more for you.

As predicted, by the time you get Luna settled down for her nap, you hear the shower shut off down the hall. A small stop off in your own room might just be to check your hair and that you haven’t had a bit of bacon stuck in your teeth all morning. Once you’ve decided he’s had enough time to dress and you can’t stall anymore, you grab the baby monitor and go down the hall to knock on his door.

Because of the shaving, Frankie is still wrapped in a towel, secured at his waist. Still, he doesn’t hesitate. “Come in.”

"Luna's down for her uh— her, her nap," you report, only barely stammering when you see Frankie standing by the bed and sighing inwardly at the way your mouth runs dry.

“Good.” He doesn’t smirk, although he wants to. You alternate between staring and looking away in embarrassment.

"It's gonna be hard to talk if I can't look you in the eye." Which is stupid, because it's not like he wasn't the first person in the world you were naked with – but here you are flustered like a teenager all over again.

“Does it bother you?” Frankie asks, looking down. “That I’m not dressed? You knocked on my door.”

"It doesn't bother me." But you do feel the need to clarify, for the sake of the situation. "It's just very distracting."

“Distracting, huh?” Frankie was never more confident than he was with you and since being here, that has started to come back. “Wonder why that is.”

"Because you're handsome, Francisco," you huff, fully amused, and roll your eyes at him for effect.

“And you’re gorgeous, gatita.” He murmurs.

"We should probably have that talk." Instinctively, shutting the door comes with stepping inside, even though it isn't necessary. Maybe it's a leftover reflex from seeking privacy in the apartments where you grew up.

“Okay.” Frankie moves over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats to slide on under the towel so you won’t be uncomfortable.

"You want to go first?" The only place in the room to sit is on the guest bed, and you perch on the end with your hands under your thighs and nerves jittering out of control.

“You look like you need get things off your chest.” Frankie hums. “You can go first.”

"I'm just...trying to think about what comes next." Your fingers twist in the blanket, making you look even more nervous than you feel. "I make plenty enough to support this family while you get things cleared up with your license. This is a stable home for Luna with actual family to help look after her. "If what you want is to be back together, we're in a very good position to make it work."

“I have my retirement.” Frankie reminds you. “I don’t expect you to support us. I want to take care of you too.” He never wants to take advantage of you. He wants to give you more than he ever takes.

"Do you actually still enjoy flying? Is it something you want to get back to? Or is it what you were doing because you were made to?" It's a fair question, and one you don't ask easily. But you get the feeling that before this, Frankie didn't get a lot of options.

“I love it.” Frankie admits. “I’m fucking good at it, completely in love with it. Why?”

"I wasn't sure if Marie had given you a chance to actually choose what you love to do, instead of just what would make money," you admit. "I was going to offer that you could take your time. Pursue whatever you wanted to, or even be a stay at home Dad for a while if that's something that interests you. I just..." One hand sneaks out from under your thigh and reaches for him as you sit on the bed. "I want you to be happy, baby. Truly happy."

“I—” Frankie’s never thought about being a stay at home dad. “I volunteered for flight school. Being in the air, flying, it’s like second nature to me now.” He tells you, kneeling down in front of you. “But…I wouldn’t mind staying home with Luna.” He admits. “I would be happy with that for a bit. I could fly part time. Spend most of it with her, still get my thrills from flying.”

"I don't want you to do what you feel you have to." That point can't have enough emphasis for you. It really is the backbone of everything you want for his future – that it is a future he chooses for himself out of passion and excitement. "If flying is what you want to do, then find the job that makes you the most excited. That lets you balance and be happy and not run yourself into the ground like I know you've been doing because you're still the same Frankie that I fell in love with when we were just kids."

“What I have to do is to be a good example to Luna, to Rachel.” He tells you. “To give them everything I can and make you happy too.”

"And I have every faith that you'll do that." Just once, you lost your faith in Frankie Morales because of fear. You're not going to let it happen again, when you're finally in a position for both of you to really have everything you've ever wanted.

“Can I kiss you again?” Frankie asks, looking into your eyes.

It's like feeling a light switch flip somewhere in your body, and you light up all over. Including your brightest smile. "I really want you to."

Frankie smiles, huffing out a small laugh as he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours again.

The momentum tips you backward on the bed, laying you out on the bed underneath him and making you reach up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. It's not a small kiss or a tentative one, but one that blots out the rest of the world, making sure the only thing you can possibly think of is him.

It’s been a long time since he has been so enthusiastic about kissing someone, but this is just like your first time all over again. He’s nervous, excited. Age and experience are the only things keeping his hips from rocking an already hard erection against your stomach as he covers your body with his own.

If anyone was trying to tell the difference between you and Frankie as teenagers and you and Frankie now, they would find the task almost impossible. An all-consuming kiss, wandering grasping hands, and only the barest thread of restraint are all hallmarks of the two of you together. If he had still been wearing that towel it would be gone in an instant, but as it is one of your hands slides all the way down to the waistband of his sweatpants and grips in earnest.

“Fuck.” Drowning in you is where he wants to stay. Barely breathing and pulling himself away to kiss down your neck. Wanting to kiss every inch of you. “I— I got checked out.” He groans against your neck. “Physical. I’m clean.”

The pause that gives you is immediate, freezing under him in embarrassment. “I—I haven’t yet. Since…it’s only been a few days. I have condoms though.” With all the upheaval since ending things with Santiago, getting tested had slipped your mind.

“It’s – Pope’s clean.” He knows his brother in arms. He knows how the man is. He might have been a man whore before, but he doesn’t sleep with multiple women. If he was with you, he was tested and only slept with you. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I—” Maybe its impulsive. Or overly emotional. But when Frankie meets your eyes all you can do is tell him the truth. “I just want to feel you again.”

Frankie groans and nods, nudging his nose against yours and kissing you again. “I want that too.” He insists, pulling away to start peeling your clothes off of you as efficiently as possible.

The pair of leggings and light dress you had reached for this morning in an effort for minimal fuss might as well be nothing at all in the face of Frankie’s determination. The thin cotton dress is up over your head in no time and the leggings peel off of you with all the difficulty of a two-piece puzzle. “I didn’t expect this…” you admit quietly, telling him I’m not so many words that you would have at least picked a matching bra and panties set this morning if you thought there was a possibility he would see them.

“Neither did I,” his smooth cheek would suggest otherwise, but he grins and leans down to kiss down your chest. “But I don’t care about panties, hair, or anything else. I just want you.”

It’s useless that he felt the need to put on pants, because now you’re pushing them off his hips with both hands and biting back a groan at the softness of him. He’s filled out, because of course he has, and the scars from his missions echo your stretch marks in all the years that have been lost between you.

“Gatita…” Your nickname comes out like a prayer, his lips worshipping every inch of your skin.

“Bet it’s been a while since you’ve groaned that name.” It’s certainly been long enough since you heard it like that, a fact that shivers through you with increasing excitement.

“Not true.” He admits with a small smirk as he looks up at you. “You were still my favorite jerk off memory.”

“Still moaning my name while you get yourself off?” Someone that’s simultaneously the sweetest and filthiest thing you’ve heard in ages and you open your legs wider to let him rest in that valley between your thighs. “Let’s see if we can give you something new to think about.”

He gives another filthy groan, aware that things have changed, but he doesn’t care. Your stretch marks are gorgeous to him, you gave birth to his child. Every mark is special. You are just as sexy to him as you were when you both were teenagers. He pulls your bra down and wraps his lips around one nipple as he slides his fingers between your folds to find your clit.

“Fuck, Frankie!” Careful not to be too loud since Luna is napping down the hall, you bite back letting a real shout out and it turns into more of a growl. Your hands are on him instantly, grasping at his shoulders, curling in his hair, and holding him in tight against you as your hips snap up to seek out his thick fingers.

He chuckles darkly, very pleased to find that you are reactive and vocal in your older years. Keeping you quiet had been a favorite game of his.

It isn’t really that different from when you were young. The desire is there as clear as day, coursing through you and sparking with every touch. Every kiss is endlessly deep, like you hold the key to each other’s lives somewhere inside yourselves and the hunt for that missing piece is as deliberate as it is lazy.

Fingers circle your throbbing sex, slicking themselves up with the arousal that is pouring out of you before he dips them inside. Remembering how you loved to be fingered when you were younger, even letting him do it on the subway under a jacket.

If it were anyone else, you might be embarrassed at how thoroughly dripping you are for him already. But Frankie was the first to feel how wet you get from something as simple as being kissed just right, and the hope that is making your pulse beat wildly out of time right now is that he will also be the last. The bookends of your lives might always have been meant to be each other.

The key to making your legs shake and your pussy clench around him is to start slowly. Pushing two fingers deep and curling them up as your walls stretch around him. Groaning at your nipple and flicking his tongue over the stiff peak.

For as well as he remembers your body, it might as well be yesterday that he last touched you and not twenty-five years ago. Your back bows and you moan again, fingernails scraping against his scalp in the way that always makes him growl gorgeously.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses in pleasure, pulling his fingers back and enjoying the sucking sound that they make in your sopping wet pussy. Only to press his thumb to your clit and plunge them back deep again.

The whines and whimpers he pulls from you are as deliberate as any musician playing their instrument in an orchestra. He still plays you expertly. Like muscle memory. He is the one who taught you so much of what brings you pleasure, and you did the same for him. It's all you can do in this moment to get your mind into high gear like the rest of your body, and reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his cock.

"Fuck." He groans, rocking his hips up towards the long-wanted touch of your hands. "You always touch me— fuck," he moans your name. "You touch me like no one else ever has."

"Always make me feel so good, baby," you pant out, body twisting every second to be able to be as close to him as possible. "Always want to return the favor."

"You will." He promises. "Let me make you feel good."

"You always do." The promise is absolute, because he really always knows how to make you feel better than anything else ever could.

His fingers continue to pump into you, working you higher and higher as every sensitive nerve ending in your pussy is set on fire by his touch. The tell-tale sign is when your legs begin to shake, thighs tightening and pussy clenching around his fingers. The long strokes of your hand over his cock stutter as pleasure starts to short-circuit your mind, making you forget everything except how good you feel. Frankie has always been good with his hands, but he's definitely learned a few tricks over the years.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers like a vice and he keeps pumping them into you. Wanting to wring you of every second of pleasure you will give him. The quiet cry of his name is like a shot of lightning through his system. "Good girl, fuck gatita. You're so good for me."

It's not you who is being good right now, but Frankie who is treating you so well that when you cry out in pleasure there are actual tears in your eyes. The peak of that pleasure that he's been building you up to is so high that you almost get the sensation of falling when your body finally tenses, shaking you apart at the seams so that the only part of you that hangs on as you start to cum are the parts of you that he has claimed as his own.

His lips still skim over your body as he works you through it. Whispering praises into your skin in Spanish as he watches your face in awe. Struck by how beautiful you are, crushed that he has been so stupid as to walk away so long ago. Determine to make up for lost time.

Whimpering when the aftershocks leave you limp underneath him, both of your hands urge Frankie back up your body, needing to kiss him more than you need air in this moment.

He hums proudly as he shuffles up, kissing you lazily with a grin curving his lips. “Sounds like you just came, gatita.” He teases quietly.

“You’re a menace, Frankie Morales.” The observation is as true now was it was twenty-five years ago.

"Your menace." He adds, smirking slightly as he kisses you again. It sounds amazing, being yours again. He's always been yours in his heart, but now...it's a second chance for both of you.

“I love you, baby.” Another kiss for him is gentler this time. His face is full of promises and his eyes shine bright in the early afternoon light that streams in through his windows.

"I love you." He vows softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek. "I want to make love to you."

“Please.” It might sound like begging, and maybe it is, but it’s been far too long since the last time you laid in this man’s arms and right now you don’t want to be anywhere else.

Every touch is calculated, timed. Meant to show you how much he is cherishing you and this moment means the world to him. He kisses your lips and whispers his love for you once again as he shifts and lines up with your welcoming entrance.

Every stitch of clothing between you is gone along with your inhibitions. Nothing to interrupt you as long as Luna stays asleep and you are definitely not going to do anything to wake up that angel. You'll swallow down every cry or pour it into kissing Frankie and just basking in the beauty of having him back in this moment.

"I love you, gatita." They were the same words that he had whispered to you when he had pushed inside you the first time, repeated now as he slowly starts to sink into you. Watching every micro expression you make as he feels like he is coming home.

“I love you s—so much.” You’ve never been overtly emotional about sex. Not really. You weren’t the kind of girl who cried at the emotional moment of losing your virginity or got choked up over a loving vow made in the heat of the moment. But being so connected with Frankie again almost has you in tears at the sheer rightness of this moment.

Frankie’s arms slide under you, pulling you close as he starts to pull his hips back. Not wanting there to be an inch of space between you when there doesn’t have to be. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispers. “Not letting you go again.”

The promise rolls through you with such seriousness that you cling to him a little more tightly. “Never going to let you go.” When his hips tilt forward again, filling you and pressing your bodies together just that much tighter, you could swear you feel one of the cracks in your heart knit back together.

His own heart doesn’t ache anymore, the missing piece that has been gaping in his chest is returned to him. Slotted right back into place perfectly and making him whole. Kissing you again as age and emotions make this time last much longer than your first together.

Moans and praises stay stifled not because of a small apartment with family nearby, not because of friends or because the moment is stolen or illicit, but because you’re drowning in kissing each other the entire time. Every movement is fluid, moving one into the other so it is impossible to tell where you end and he begins, all that matters is that you’re not letting go. Nothing else matters if it isn’t something you can do together — because you’ll never be apart again.

Nothing has ever been as magical as this moment, beyond the first moment he held Luna after she was just born. Nothing can compare to the utter tranquility in his soul, the quiet in his mind as he gives and takes from you in equal parts.

Who knows how long you stay in that bed, turning over each other, clinging and moaning low into drawn out kisses. Who knows how long you stay there or how many times you change positions, keeping each other as close as possible while you work through the bliss of reunion up to the precipice of pleasure. By the time his hips start to stutter and the coil of orgasm starts to tug at the pit of your stomach, you’re on top of him — riding him even as you pour your heart into sobbing praise.

Looking up at you in wonder, all he can do is watch as you splinter yourself into pieces on top of him. Mixing and mingling with him until he is tugging you back close and devouring your mouth in another kiss. Breathing his amazement into you.

You shatter together, finding that remarkable peak of pleasure all at once, and holding tight to each other as you ride out the aftershocks as one.

It goes on forever. Or at least it seems too. Both of you drifting down together until you are collapsed against his chest and breathless. Frankie aching with the first good pain he’s felt in such a long time.

“I love you, baby.” This is it. This is home. The closest to paradise you have ever been or will ever be is in this man’s arms and you’re not going to let another second of your life pass without him being a part of it.

“I love you too, gatita.” He wraps an arm around you and strokes your bare back softly. “I had a thought today, one that’s horrible, but it’s true.” You hum, lifting up to your elbow to look at him curiously. “I wished that you were Luna’s mother. That she was our second baby together.” He chuckles. “Or that late in life ‘whoops’.”

“You never know,” you hum softly, cradled on his chest with your knees still bracketing his hips. If you never move again, you’ll be only too happy to be this close to him. “I still have a couple of years in me as far as baby making goes. Only a few, but they’re still there. And Luna…Frankie, I already love her. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to her myself.”

His brow lifts in surprise. “Would you really want that?” He asks seriously. “Another baby? With me?”

“I don’t know if it’s possible or safe,” you remind him gently, lifting your head to kiss him again. “But what if I made an appointment with my doctor to get checked out? Let her tell us if it’s a bad idea before we get our hearts set on it?”

“Whatever you want.” Frankie agrees. “I’m clean.” He promises you softly. “I’m never touching any of that shit ever again.” He told you about the coke and you had taken it surprisingly well, but he wants to remind you that he’s serious.

"I know, love." It was a long and twisted road that led him to that, and Marie was the one driving the proverbial car, so you know it's behind him for sure. But you also know Rachel would never forgive him if he relapsed and something happened to little Luna, and he has the love of two daughters hanging in the balance now. "I also know, whatever happens, I love you and I'm going to be right here at your side."

“My license is going to be reinstated.” He whispers quietly. “One of the board members told me. It’s not official yet, but he….wanted to let me know.”

"Honey that's— that's fantastic." You dive in to kiss him again before reluctantly sliding off of him, letting yourself be tucked into his side instead. "We're gonna make it work this time, Frankie. Every bit of it."

“Even if I don’t fly right away, I have my retirement. My disability.” He promises. “I can help you. I need to help you.”

"We'll make up a budget, and we'll make sure everyone is contributing to the house somehow." The grin playing at your lips is soft, and you brush some hair out of his eyes. "Luna can contribute with giggles. The adults will take care of the rest."

“She also blows great raspberries.” He jokes, still slowly caressing your back and hoping this moment never ends.

As if the mention of her name was enough, the sounds of movement from over the baby monitor are nondescript for a minute or so before the soft cooing of a wakening baby turns to the blustering that comes before cries. "Well..." you huff a small laugh and lift yourself up on your elbow. "At least she let us finish."

Frankie laughs and taps your hip. “I’ll get her.” He promises.

"I'm gonna clean up and then I'll meet you downstairs?" The domesticity of the whole thing makes you smile, and you lay back on the pillow again to admire him as he hauls himself out of bed to pull on his boxers and grabs the baby monitor.

Frankie coos when he opens the door, instantly moving over to the crib to get Luna out. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s gotcha.”

It is okay. Life may not be perfect yet but the promise of it is there. He has you back, he has both of his daughters, and he’s going to make it work this time. You all are. As a family.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer @shakespeareanwannabe

TSR: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @darkheartgatita @anoverwhelmingdin @thisishwrworld

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x female reader #Frankie Morales x f!reader #Santiago Garcia #Francisco 'Catfish' Morales #Santiago 'Pope' Garcia #The One That Got Away #Feral Frankie Friday #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier fanfic #TF fic

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wandaslittlelove · 9 months ago

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Just This One Thing

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: angst/with a happy ending, reader almost marries a man

“Wanda?” I say to the redhead that just burst into my room seemingly out of breath. “You can't be here” I say, fixing my dress.

“I know,” she says quietly while walking closer to me. She stops just a couple inches away from me while looking over my dress and everything. “I just” she takes a deep breath “I had to see you” She whispers once again as she begins to play with the rings on her fingers.

“You need to leave.” I say sternly as I turn away from her trying to cry.

“Detka please. I'm so sorry for everything. But I promise I'll do better. I'll be better. Just please.” I say nothing and I hear her let out a sad sigh. “Let me walk you down the aisle. Just like we always planned. Then…Then I'll leave for good.” I hear the trembling in her voice and with a sigh I turn to face her.

As I get a good look at her I see how red her eyes are and the tears that are coming down them. She’s wearing my bridesmaid dresses so obviously someone had to have helped her. Noticing my staring, she speaks up.

“Natasha let me in. She also got me the dress.” I nod at her words and make a quick reminder to have a talk with Natasha later. “Look, I know you're upset with me. I want to make things right but I know you want nothing to do with me. So let me do this one thing for you and then I'll leave.” I contemplate her words as thoughts start racing through my head.

I don’t want her to leave but I know it's for the better because if she stays I'll fall right back into her arms. Her warm, safe, strong arms. Nothing compared to the man I'm about to marry. He barely pays attention to me, hangs out with his friends all the time, not to mention his “work vacations” or “overtime” which I know is him really just sleeping with Amanda from HR.

“Wanda I-” I'm cut off when she walks forwards, taking my face softly in her hands. I look at her in shock but quickly melt at the tears gathered in her forest green eyes. The eyes that I had fallen in love with years ago and can never seem to get over.

“Just this one thing princessa.” After a few minutes pass I see her deflate and she pulls away. I'm embarrassed to admit that I almost let out a whimper from the loss. As she turns to leave the door I panic and run up to her.

Next thing I know my back is against the door with her lips on mine. I forgot how soft her lips were. How gently she held me when kissing even if it was heated.

After a while we both pull away and she rests her forehead against mine.

“Detka I.”

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I don't want to be with him. I want to be with you.” I ramble quickly as I hold onto her tightly. The sound of music can faintly be heard in the room and I know now that I was supposed to be walking down the aisle already.

Wanda seems to hear this as she glances at the clock then back at me.

“You have to make a decision fast. Choose me and we’ll leave right now. I'll text Nat and tell her. Or choose him and… and I'll go.” My mind seems to be racing again as I hold onto her tightly. I know that if I choose Wanda then Natasha will end the whole wedding. But if I choose my fiance. The guy I'm supposed to be saying “I do” to right now then the person I’ve loved for what seems like my whole life will leave with all the happiness I have left.

So with a quick kiss to her lips I hold her hand nodding. And with a smile she quickly drags me to her car before sending a quick text to Natasha.

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thehollowwriter · 7 months ago

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I think we should talk more about the mysgony when it comes to parents in media, and how fathers are favoured and praised for the most the most basic shit while mothers are demonised for making mistakes or being bad. This is gonna be a long one, buckle up.

I hate Mrs Rosehearts as much as the next guy, but it's unfair that Mr Rosehearts is not given similar criticism for allowing his wife to treat Riddle the way he does. I hardly see people bring him up apart from mentioning that Riddle's parents probably have an unhappy marriage, and some people say something along the lines of "poor Mr Rosehearts, struggling with a wife like that".

Of course, we don't know enough about his character to gauge how Mrs Rosehearts treats him, bit it's clear he just passively stands to the side when it comes to whatever Mrs Rosehearts wants to do with Riddle. That itself is very harmful and it's own form of abuse, imo.

The same applies to Alador Blight from the Owl House. He's praised for being a wonderful dad that finally came through and stood up to his "horrible wretched bitch of a wife" (who, if she was a guy, would probably have more people analysing her and trying to find ways to sympathise with her just saying)..

And while, yes, he did stand up to her and that's a good thing, the general consensus is he was a brilliant dad from the start that was held back by his wife's wicked ways. But... that's not true? His first appearance is him telling Amity to stop being friends with Willow. He ignores his children constantly, and, like Mr Rosehearts, stands passively to the side when Odaliah treats her children like her property.

He's a neglectful parent at best and just as concerned with image and status at Odaliah at worst. But... that stuff is just forgotten. Most people just say "we thought he was bad but it turns out he was manipulated by his wife". He is HIS OWN PERSON. You cannot just blame everything on his "evil manipulative wife" (which is also smt that sometimes happens irl when both parents are abusive). He is still fully capable of making his own decisions.

And again, it's unfortunate, but if Odaliah were to be given his treatment or if Alador were a woman, the general response would be "That's sad but not an excuse! I can't believe she was forgiven!"

The worst I can think of atm, is Silco and Vi from Arcane. Now ofc they're not married. But the circumstances are similar.

Silco is praised to the high heavens for being one of the best dads in animation (#1 goes to Doofenshmirtz ofc, which I agree with) and the reasons for this are because he... shows his care, puts Jinx first, and loves her. Wow. Fucking groundbreaking am I right. The bar is soooo high/s

The thing is, Jinx is a child soldier. She works for Silco, protects his shipments of Shimmer, takes out the enemies that need taken out, etc. He found her as a young child, and when we cut to the present, she's murdering people without so much as flinching, even delighting in it, and suffering badly from trauma and hallucinations.

Obviously, Jinx was not given the care she needed, and was instead trained to assist Silco.

Am I denying Silco loves her? Of course not! He clearly does. But that's just not good enough. He's a loving dad, but not a good one. He's not the father that neither Jinx nor Powder needed.

Meanwhile, we have Vi. Vi loves Powder, protects her, cares for her, tries to keep her out of harm, stands up for her, and so on. She cares so deeply for Powder, and you can see it. The moment she got out of prison, her first goal was to find Powder.

However, because she hit Powder once, and shouted at her, she's apparently an abusive monster who never cared about Powder. Reminder, she hit Powder because her entire family was killed in front of her and then she learned Powder was the reason that happened. She was like... 14? And she immediately left to calm down. She did not abandon Powder, she left to take a breather because she realised she was too angry. And when she came back, she was drugged and arrested.

Silco is a grown adult who purposefully flooded the streets of the Undercity with a highly addictive drug, turned Powder into a soldier, and is generally a terrible person, even if he is a three dimensional amd well written antagonist.

Vi started the story as a teenager suffering poverty and discrimination just like Silco, had to deal with her own parents death, then her adoptive family was killed in front of her, and then she was forcefully taken from her sister. And yet, people are convinced Vi is a terrible and abusive sister who never loved Powder?

The only example worse than this, methinks, is Stella and Stolas from Helluva Boss.

Stella is a shitty mother who ignores her daughter, which the the audience is shown via a scene were Octavia is having a nightmare and she tells Stolas to deal with it. She frequently screams and swears at Stolas and throws things at him, with no regard for her daughter's presence or feelings.

This is pretty terrible, right? Of course! Everyone knows Stella is a horrible mother.

Stolas on the other hand, is praised for being such an loving and caring father, who tries his best. He even has a song with Octavia!

Well, he also: openly talks about having sex with Blitz and how much he likes it while she was right there, told her people want her money and her body, generally doesn't pay much attention to her either bc he's wallowing about Blitz not loving him back, and doesn't give her feelings much regard.

And yet, the misogyny extends beyond just Stella because people generally agree that Octavia is ungrateful and doesn't appreciate Stolas enough. They get mad at her for disliking the fact that Stolas is cheating on her mother with an imp who's been nothing but rude to her and ruining their family further, and even mock her for feeling unloved. Hell even Brandon, one of the creators, has allegedly recently called her a "cockblocking slut" which, frankly, is a disgusting thing to say about a 17 year old girl.

Idk man I'm just tired.

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calaisreno · 6 months ago

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Couple

865 words / Prompt: Imperfect

“We’re not—” John begins, but realises the futility of saying it again.

“You’re a lucky man.” Hopkins winks at him. “I’d make a play for him myself, but he’s obviously taken.”

He watches her walk away while he stands at the bar, waiting for another pint. She’s just the kind of woman he once would have hit on. A fun flirtation.

Now he doesn’t have the energy. And he’s wondering when that happened.

Sherlock is watching him.

He should be used to it by now. People always assume they’re a couple, and really, he doesn’t mind so much. He’s stopped saying he’s not gay because it’s misleading, and he would rather be honest. But it’s nobody’s fucking business who he is.

Sherlock must know. God, they’ve known each other for years, lived together for months now, since he and Rosie moved back. They’re practically co-parenting, and often exchange the same weary look that only the parents of a toddler can wear.

But Sherlock looks sad, he thinks. If John is honest with himself, he’s a bit worried that Sherlock is tired of the John-and-Rosie show, the trail of destruction Rosie leaves everywhere she toddles. The cases always used to bring them together, and now, even if they have a babysitter, John’s often too exhausted to go out with him.

Even this, a night out with the Yarders, Rosie at home with Mrs Hudson, is less fun than John had hoped. Sherlock doesn’t care for pub nights, but he tags along because John presses him to be more social.

He moves towards Sherlock, who’s sitting on the periphery of the noisy group. People don’t socialise with him much. Even the women who look at him with appreciation give up after a brief exchange. Sherlock can manage social occasions when necessary, but he’s clearly wishing he were somewhere else.

He slides into the seat opposite. “I’m glad you came.”

“Why?” Sherlock gives him a sharp look. “So I could watch Lestrade’s team get pissed?”

“No, I’m glad because… I like being with you.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows rise. He gives an amused huff. “You live with me.”

“Yeah, I do. But at home there’s always some mess to clean up or Rosie to deal with. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t your favourite thing.”

“I don’t mind.” His mouth curves into a smile. “I like being with you, too.”

John nods, takes a swallow of beer. “Stella was just making the usual assumption. We look like a couple. And I was wondering, are we?”

“Are we a couple?” Sherlock’s face does something complicated: surprise, discomfort, and then careful indifference. “People are idiots.”

“I don’t care about people. I care about you. Does it bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Because you don’t… I know you care about me and Rosie, but you don’t do…” The word is on the tip of John’s tongue, but he’s looking into Sherlock’s eyes, feeling completely obvious.

“Romance,” Sherlock says. “It’s a medieval construct, John, an idealisation of a reality that is often messy and contentious. People fall in love and marry; they run headlong into disappointment and divorce. I abhor the idea that we must put on blinders and pretend everything is perfect. It’s not, and never has been.”

John feels his heart sink a bit. “Yeah, you’re right.” He touches the side of his pint glass, watches the condensation run down.

He’s thinking about his own failed marriage. He’d loved the idea of Mary, an escape from the past, the possibility of a future with a person who loved him. He’d built an idealised life in his head, and it hadn’t taken long for him to realise how mistaken he’d been. The night Mary died, he’d planned to talk with her, tell her what he’d realised about himself. He didn’t know where that would take them, but it had to be said. He’d only delayed because of Sherlock’s text.

“Love,” Sherlock continues, “has nothing to do with romance. It’s not perfect. It’s a decision, one we keep making because it’s important.”

Their eyes meet. John is looking up into Sherlock’s face, remembering when he said, we might all just be human. “Important. To you?”

“Yes.”

The group is suddenly louder, laughing and jeering at some remark. No one is looking at him and Sherlock.

Those grey eyes are still gazing at him.

“Love is important, John. I know I don’t often express sentiment, but I do feel it. I do love you.”

At the look on John’s face, Sherlock’s smile turns to something sadder.

“I adore you and Rosie, and I love the messiness of living with you. I don’t want a perfect life. I want you. I want us.”

“So, you’re saying… you want us... to be a couple?”

“We already are, John. What that means is up to us. Do you want more than what we have?”

“God, yes.” The words are out of his mouth before he thinks them. “I do. Want you. If you…?”

“Yes.” Sherlock is smiling now, a full, bright smile that practically lights up the room.

John leans closer. “I love you too, Sherlock.”

The kiss is messy and imperfect. And glorious. Nobody’s watching.

#mayprompts2024

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reidmania · 1 month ago

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sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter nine, decode)

‘but now I wonder why, I let your confusion keep me up at night, I'm so tired. Re-read every single undertone and I overanalyzed it, front, back, and beside it, where else can we go? there's nothing left here to decode. Done lookin' for signs in the gaps and the silence. It's just getting old, there's nothing left here to decode’

summary; you await the regret, but it’s welcome seems to be postponed by spencer and hormones.

warnings; smut, 18+ MDNI. fem reader, mentions of ghosting, arguing, they are so messy angst, oral, f receiving, fingering, slight overstimulation, overwhelmed reader, comforting spencer, mentions alcohol but nobody is drunk, reader had half a drink but is completely and utterly in her right mind guys, everybody is in their right mind, SOFT dom spencer, really sad bc its them, mentions reader having a whore phase, which makes sense cause she was single for a while before spencer guys!!!!!

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules s @ameerakane20 @lucere @cultish-corner @psyches-reid

When you suggested Spencer taking you back to his house, it was safe to say it was purely an emotional and hormone based decision. He was there, and you missed him. Now sitting on his sofa your body seemed to hold every ounce of realisation, that you were seriously really embarrassing yourself right now.

You were disappointed, simply. In your emotional decision, that you were allowing him back, maybe not emotionally, definitely not emotionally, but physically. He didn’t deserve the right to you in any way, thankfully you cared more about him knowing your mind, than seeing your body.

You were sure if you convinced yourself this was just another meaningless hookup on a friday night after a long day, you could pretend that you weren’t planning on having sex with the one person that you swore you’d never let get close to you again.

Maybe it was a punishment for him, that he would get to know you physically, and thats all. Your connection now would be physical. He wanted more, or he did before when he asked you out and worked his way into building your trust, only to have broken it.

Maybe it was a punishment for you.

Maybe this was a lesson you really just had to learn the hard way, time after time again.

“Do you want coffee?” Spencer asked, your head turned to look over your shoulder, eyebrows pulled in, confusion washing over you. You weren’t here for coffee, you weren’t here to just hang out with him, to spend the night with him, you were here for..

Something, you didn’t know.

Maybe sexual relief, maybe self sabotage because the hurt he provided was the most of him you could get. You weren’t sure. Maybe you hoped that if you had sex he would tell you why he suddenly switched up on you.

Or maybe you just wanted to have sex with him.

“No.” You answered, standing up from the couch, your feet found themselves walking to the kitchen where he was. His home layout engraved in your mind because of the amount of time you had spent there. It used to be a second home filled with warmth and laughter, now it felt like different. In the same way things between you and him felt different.

You saw his back first when you stopped in the open doorway of his kitchen, he obviously noticed your presence and turned around, leaning his hip against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Whats wrong?” He asked, eyebrows pinched as he noticed the look on your face.

You huffed, “Im confused.”

He frowned, stepping closer till he was in front of you. It was awkward, yet any regret of the decision you had made subsided when your eyes flickered down to his hands, as he clenched and unclenched his fists, obviously dealing with the tension much like you were.

“I know— I’m sorry, I want to tell you-”

a huff left your lips, shaking your head, you groaned, “Not about that- Well yes about that- But- Not right- okay. Twenty minutes ago you were asking me if you could kiss me after ghosting me for over a month with no explanation, and now i’m in your house, to have sex with you and you’re offering to make me coffee?”

Maybe it was more embarrassing in the way you explained it, or maybe it was really just that embarrassing. You didn’t care, that was something you could deal with when you were home, dealing with the similar amount of regret that would come.

He seemed to find it amusing, that made you mad, not any less attracted to him right now, but much more annoyed. “Im trying to make you feel comfortable.” Despite his amusement he was honest and genuine when he leant a little closer to you.

Of course he was, he was good at that, making you feel comfortable, safe, secure. You had to remind yourself that no matter how comfortable you felt, this was an emotional decision, thats all it was, it was because you were horny, not because you were going to let him back in.

“I don’t want to be comfortable. I thought you bought me here to have sex.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

He raised his eyebrows, “You asked me to bring you here.” He pointed out.

“Because I thought you wanted to have sex!”

“Okay, alright. Gosh. Someone is needy.” He mumbled as he stepped closer, and you were trying to be nice for the sake of getting what you wanted, you were trying to be civil for the sake of your sex life (and the lack of it in the last few months), but the glare that followed his words was inevitable.

“Spencer, I will go home right now and I swear to god I will never talk to you again.” Maybe it would be sweet funny banter if you weren’t dead serious when you said it, he seemed to know that, the way his hand reached out to brush a hair away from your face before his thumb lingered on your skin for a moment too long.

His touch wasn’t comforting, you wouldn’t let it be. In order for this to remain purely a hormone based decision and act, you would need to continue to remind yourself of the fact that he lied, broken promises, hurt you, and wouldn’t tell you why.

This was a hormone based decision, not a i miss you and i will take sex because its all i can get based decision.

“Are we going to have sex?” You asked, voice quieter now. His hand had been caressing your cheeks for the moment too long, his eyes boring into every single feature and aspect of your face, and he was silent, the moment was too intimate for the reasoning you were giving yourself for this whole situation. So you felt the question was necessary.

He hummed, “Do you want to have sex?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. You were pretty sure you made it clear what you wanted. “Clearly.”

“Be nice.” He muttered as his thumb trailed over your jaw.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You argued.

He chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. Because you both knew he had lost the right to tell you what to do, not that he ever took advantage of that right when he had it, he was always very sure you could make your own decisions and take care of yourself, but at that time, when he did tell you to do something, you listened. He lost that. He lost the right to a lot of things. The intimate moment wouldn’t be started by laughter and sweet kisses that turned into more, the moment wouldn’t be sweetened by the sound of your music playing in the background. He lost that.

He had lost the right to your love, yet unfortunately he still had it all.

He softly placed his lips on yours. Not that it was really soft, because you had learnt that he was incapable of kissing you like he didn’t need it to survive. Every soft kiss was a kiss you placed, his were all full of every emotion. If he wouldn’t tell you what he was thinking, you’d feel it in the way he kissed you. Right now, it was an ‘I miss you’ kiss.

You kissed him back the same, you weren’t sure if he knew the emotion he poured into every kiss he gave you, maybe it was a subconscious thing, you weren’t sure if he’s notice the similarities between the way he kissed you, and the way you kissed him. The same ‘i miss you’ kiss.

His hands gripped your waist, he nudged your thigh with his knee, before stepping into the space between your feet, you stumbled with each step he took, your feet following his backwards. The kiss was never broken, his lips still pressed desperately against yours, there wasn’t a build up, it didn’t start slow, it was just this. It was just whatever was left of you and him.

You continued stumbling backwards until your back was against the wall and his body was pressing yours further against the plaster, his hands were everywhere, pushing your shirt up at your waist to run his thumb over either side of your stomach while your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt.

There wasn’t a lot to think about, you weren’t sure you could think even if there was a lot to think about. If you thought too long you’d realise what you were doing, you knew that. You didn’t want to come to the realisation. You didn’t want this to end.

“Is this okay?” He asked against your lips, before pulling back so you could answer properly, clearly. his fingers trailed up underneath your shirt, nudging the material of your bra.

You nodded, letting out a harsh breath as your finger curled around the materiel of his t-shirt. Your head fell back against the wall as he moved back slightly, lowering himself so he was on his knees in front of you. You didn’t have time to react as his hands bundled up the fabric of your shirt, pushing it up before holding it just under the wiring of your bra.

“W- what are you doing?” You breathed out as you lowered your head, looking down at him. You knew you were going to have sex, so why you were confused as to him imitating sexual behaviours — you weren’t sure. Maybe you were starting to come to your senses, maybe you were just on edge.

He didn’t answer for a moment, his free hand coming to run down the side of your waist, the soft touch sending shivers down your spine, the coldness of his fingertip against the warmth of your skin set it on fire. He leaned up and pressed his lips softly against the skin right above your belly button, looking up at you through his eyelashes, and for a second you swore you forgot about everything.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, not directly answering your question as to what he was doing. You knew what this was, Spencer — while always making sure to hear you verbally agree and give him the go ahead during the sex, he would be doing it for everything now, because things weren’t the same.

And he knew just as well as you did, that any moment you may change your mind and hate his guts. And he wouldn’t blame you. “Yes” you whispered as your breath hitched, he hummed against the skin of your stomach, his lips continuing to brush over the skin. His hand continued rubbing up and down the soft skin of your side.

“You need to relax.” He mumbled softly as he kissed under where he had bundled up your shirt. You hadn’t realised you were so tense, you didn’t know if you could be blamed, not only was he on his knees in front of you, but he was Spencer. Of course you were tense. You couldn’t remember the last time the thought of him alone didn’t make you tense.

You huffed, your fingers carding through his hair. “Don’t tell me what—” you didn’t even get to finish your snarky comment before he was saying your name, leaning back on his heels to look up at you. His hand dropped your shirt and both his hands trailed to your hips. You frowned as you looked down at him, and at the loss of contact.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled, thumb dipping into the waist band of your pants, not a sexual movement, but to gently rub the skin of your hips under where the elastic had settled, he didn’t ask the question to get an answer. It wasn’t even a question. He knew you were mad at him.

You nodded. You didn’t know what there was to say. You were mad at him, you were hurt by what he did and you’d be lying if you said that being here like this was him didn’t further those emotions, they continue to surpass the hormones that put you in this position, with Spencer kneeling in front of you. You wanted to have sex with him, you didn’t doubt that, and if you did end up regretting it, it would be self regret out of embarrassment, not necessarily for having sex with him. You were feeling a lot of emotions, and they were all confusing and contradictory with one another.

He nodded back, still looking up at you. “I know sweet girl, Im mad at me too. But for this to happen you need to relax okay? I can’t do anything when you’re this tense with me.” He mumbled out, the name made your stomach twist with a mix of butterflies and discomfort at its familiarity. Your breath was shaky when it left your lips.

You leant your head back against the wall, taking a few deep breaths, trying to relax your muscles and your nerves. It was hard, the tension in your muscles wasn’t just because you were about to have sex and the anticipation was catching up to you, sure maybe that played a part in it, but the tension came from the weight of every lingering memory of what you was suppose to happen, what he did, what he didn’t do, how much you hated yourself for being here with him, and how much you loved him. That wasn’t the type of tension you can just relax.

Spencer watched, eyes never leaving you as his hands continued to rub gently over your sides as if his touch was suppose to be soothing, maybe it was and you were just too in your head to realise it. Maybe every touch felt the same because you could tell each one carried a the weight of his guilt and it kept getting heavier. You wanted this, you did. You were making this decision in your right mind, there was nobody else to blame.

“Would you feel more comfortable if we went to my room?” Spencer asked, he leant up again, kneeling properly so he was closer to you again. Your head fell forward to meet his eyes as he stared up at you, eyes wide but not pleading with intention, care and concern maybe, a lot of guilt and a whole lot of love. You had to ignore that, because it contradicted the truth you had made up in your head in order to deal with his lack of.

You frowned, “I told you, I don’t want to be comfortable.” You mumbled. You were consumed enough by his scent now, with just him close to you, to be in his room where the entirety was so him, to lay in the bed you spent your nights and mornings tangled in one another, you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it, you weren’t sure there was enough convincing you could do to yourself for you to continue to believe that this decision wasn’t driven by the undying need to just be with him.

Because that was embarrassing.

You chose to keep your pride as much as possible, although it continued inching away when you looked at him. That was also embarrassing.

“Well, Im not doing this if you’re uncomfortable.” He said back.

“Fine.” You settled.

“Fine.” He replied in the same tone, but he smiled, quickly grabbing your hand and placing his lips along your knuckles before intertwining your fingers and standing up straight. It was playful. He was comfortable. He was okay about this and you felt like every moment was killing you.

He was holding onto your hand tightly as he led you down the hallway. That was intimate in a way it made your chest weigh heavier, uncomfortably so. Familiar in the way it made you feel as if you were home, you weren’t sure if you currently enjoyed the feeling on his hand in yours, but you certainty weren’t pulling away, because the loss of his touch felt worse.

“Can you please take off your shoes and get on my bed?” He asked, once you had entered his bedroom. You were already suffocating in him. Taking in every little difference, his books had moved from his bedside table to his drawers since the last time you were here, he got a different lamp resting on the bedside, he had a plant.

Yet the more you looked around, those little differences didn’t make your chest burn until you noticed that so many things were the same. Your old phone charger that had broken one time when you were staying over remained in place on his shelf where you had placed it then forgotten about it, a small tube of your lipbalm on his bedside table, the book you had started and never finished was the only book that hadn’t moved to his drawers.

You looked back at him, your chest impossibly tight. You could hardly remember what he had asked you to do. You could hardly think. The regret was sinking in as all of the hurt came back, any thought that had clouded that memory prior seemed to disappear because his bedroom remained just as much you as it did him.

“What?” You breathed out heavily, a mass of air you didn’t even know you were holding in. The minute it left your lips your head spun.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he squeezed your hand, the movement was suppose to be comforting but your chest tightened. This was suppose to be a careless moment you’d regret later, not now, not before you had even gotten the chance to do anything. “I asked you to take your shoes off and get on the bed. You don’t have to.” He tried to offer to ease your mind, maybe contradict you if you even dared to argue for him not to tell you what to do. He asked.

“Oh” your lips parted as you looked down and kicked off your shoes. You let go of his hand and breathing felt a little bit easier. You moved towards the bed, because while this was embarrassing, having sex with him after he broke your heart — bursting into tears and running out like you really wanted to, would unfortunately bruise your ego more.

You settled back in the comfort of the mattress. It was so much comfier than yours, yet he use to argue how much better your bed was. You would argue differently. It took you a while to realise neither of you actually cared about the comfort of the bed, just the owner of it. Spencer looked at you for a moment from where he was standing.

“Are you going to come over or what?“ you huffed, impatience getting the better of you. Maybe also the fact that if he didn’t do something you were pretty sure the comfort of his bed, and the surrounding scent would either wind you into tears, or sleep.

He cringed, stepping forward a few times until he was sitting down next to you on the bed, body facing yours, yet he kept a safe distance, hands remaining in his lap, “You don’t look like you want this.” He mumbled.

You frowned, you weren’t great at keeping your emotions off your face regardless of how good you were at keeping them out of your mouth. Spencer also learnt your body language, he studied it as if he was going to be tested on it, he knew you better than you wanted to admit, which made it all hurt more. Because you let him know you.

“I do want this.” You said, and you did.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He tilted his head a little bit, eyes locking in and searching yours for any sign of doubt, hesitation, he knew it would be there. So did you. After everything you decided you deserved a moment to hesitate, and after everything Spencer wouldn’t argue with that. You tilted your head to the side, reaching up, the back of your fingertip coming to brush against the spine of the book you had been reading, only about half way through. It was what you would read on the nights you spent at Spencer’s, comfortable silence filling the air while you both read.

“I need to get a copy” you muttered absentmindedly. If Spencer made any sort of face or reaction you missed it, your gaze focused on the book and the memories that ran with it.

He reached out to brush his hand over your thigh gently. “You can have that one.” He said, before shuffling so he was settling where your knees were pulled up. His hands were everywhere again, his touch gentler, because the emotions in your mind were showcasing in your body language. He leant forward, gently nudging your knees apart as he leant in more to push your t-shirt up again. “You can have anything you want.” It was a promise, a quiet barley audible promise.

You almost wish you hadn’t heard it because your own words followed, “Besides you?” You shivered as he positioned himself on his knees between your legs, fabric of your shirt bundled up in his fists, he paused at your words, tensing. You saw it.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, keeping his eyes away from your face, at focused on his hand that had finally continued moving again. “Can I take this off?” He asked, referring to your t-shirt, not answering your previous comment, maybe it was a question, you weren’t even sure. his eyes flicked to yours and you nodded. Then he was pulling your shirt up, hand moving to your back to help you sit up a little bit before pulling it off over your arms. Suddenly you were very aware of how cold the air was around you. Or maybe in was just the air between you and Spencer that was so cold, despite the warmth of his hand on your skin.

His hands were everywhere, again, feverishly even, he was leaning up, and then down to connect your lips in a kiss that was so full of emotion it shocked you, a different emotion, a different type of his. He was apologising. Or maybe you were making this up in your head in order to make sense of what was going on. You kissed him back, your hand moving to cup the back of his head, but then he was pulling away, kissing down your jaw, each breath that left his lips was hot against your skin.

He kissed down your neck, lingering on a specific sensitive spot that made your lips part and a soft gasp to pass through, before he continued his pathway down, kissing and swiping his tongue out over your collarbone, his hands moving to reach up to your chest, gently groping you over the fabric of your bra, you sighed, he groaned.

His forehead came to rest against your collarbone, when his hands slipping behind your back, running his fingertip over the clasp of your bra, a silent question. You arched up, a silent approval.

When your bra was removed, there was no time to process the cold air that caused your sensitivity to rise, for insecurity to creep in, his lips closed around the soft skin of your boobs, his hand gently squeezing the one his mouth wasn’t on. “Do you still want me?” He mumbled against your nipple, as his tongue swirled around it.

Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering closed. Maybe it was your turn to avoid answering a question. You knew what he was referring to, you mumbling earlier about how he would give you anything besides himself. His question wasn’t out of insecurity, it was out of awareness.

You let out a sound when his finger grazed over the rise of your chest, before he was pulling back from the skin he had been at, his lips trailing down your stomach again, kissing over the waist band of your pants as he shuffled to be laying on his stomach. You weren’t sure a clear thought process was possible when he tucked his fingertip below the elastic.

“Off?” He asked.

You nodded. Words were lost.

He didn’t ask the question expecting an answer— you were glad because words failed you, maybe he asked it because he wanted you to think about it. Whether you liked it or not, he knew you. He spent months learning you inside out, he said it a hundred times that he would forget everything he had ever learnt if it meant knowing you.

You hadn’t take that seriously.

His hands tugged the material down, you were lifting to help as much as possible. Once they were halfway down your thighs. He was letting out a breathy laugh, sitting up the slightest bit to pull them off your legs. The positioning was awkward but it only lasted a second before your knees were parted again.

You could feel his breath against your thigh as his lips trailed over the skin. You were really glad he didn’t ask the question expecting an answer, because you were pretty sure if you opened your mouth a gasp would leave it. A breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You were also glad because you didn’t know the answer. You didn’t know if you did still want him. You wanted to know him, to understand what happened, what went wrong. You wanted things to go back to the way they were before.

Whether that be before he left, or before you met him.

You wanted him, you did. But he was right to question you, because as much as you want him, you cared too deeply about your pride, about the trust that had been broken, the false hope and the lies, you cared too much to know if you would ever forgive him for that.

“Breathe, sweet girl.” He mumbled, breath hot against your skin as his kisses grew firmer, with parted lips as he moved up the inside of your thighs. You did, you let your lips part and the air to flow out, then back in. He hummed in acknowledgment.

“Spencer, please.”

If this was any other time, two and a half months ago, Spencer would’ve made a comment about your good manners, or teased you playfully. He knew better now. He didn’t say anything as his fingers tugged away at the remaining material, slipping his fingers under the hemming over your underwear, then they were being tugged down your legs, in that same awkward positioning.

Your chest rose and fell with anticipation as his breath grew hotter and closer to where you wanted him, then his hands were moving from there positioning on your thighs, his thumb gently brushing over your folds, you sighed, he looked up.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” He mumbled as if it was the most casual thing ever. You refused to acknowledge the way your stomach burnt with the mixture of butterflies and hurt. You didn’t have time to reply before a gasp was leaving your lips as he leant down, his tongue dancing over the same as his fingers had only moments prior.

Your hand reached out to grip his hair almost instinctively as you leant up on your elbow, his tongue worked over you as if this was all he would ever need. You were embarrassed of the sound that left your mouth when his lips latched onto your clit, tongue flicking against it. Despite your embarrassment, Spencer seemed to think opposite of the sound as a groan left his lips against you, the vibrations only furthering the feeling.

“Spencer.” You moaned, your body no longer capable of being held up by your elbow as you dropped against the bed, flat against the bed, head turning to bury your face in the side of the pillow. Your back arched, hips furthering against his face. He didn’t seem to mind as his free arm wrapped around your hips, tugging you even closer.

His tongue lapped over you, the sound was so embarrassing if you weren’t caught up in the pleasure of it all, and the emotions that seemed to follow him, you would’ve noticed. His fingers moved to brush his thumb over your clit as his tongue slipped inside you, before out, then lapping you again, tongue and lips everywhere. The feeling was overwhelming in the best way as your back arched.

“Im sorry,” he mumbled against you, before his tongue slipped inside you again, you weren’t sure if it was his words or the feelings that made your eyes glaze over, instinctively causing you to squeeze them shut. “Im sorry.” He mumbled again.

You could’ve believed him.

His finger brushed down, his thumb nudging your hole as his lips moved back up to your clit, then his thumb was replaced with his middle finger, slowly easing inside you. You moaned at the feeling, he almost mirrored it against you, his hand easy in and out.

“I miss you,” He whispered against your clit, finger curling inside you as if to puncture his words, or maybe to keep you from replying. If that was the case, it worked, because your head furthered into the pillow. You could hardly process his words or the hurt they sent to your chest over the growing need in your stomach.

“Spencer.” Maybe his name was all you could say. It was suppose to be a warning, not to go there, not to touch the topic, but it came out as a moan. He added another finger as his tongue flicked over your clit again, lips latching on and sucking as if his life depended on it.

His pace grew, mirroring the growing knot in your stomach. His tongue and lips worked harder against you, because he knew you and he could feel it. You might’ve muttered out a warning but either way it would’ve been muffled by the pillow your neck was twisted awkwardly into, he didn’t mind when you came on his fingers. You knew he didn’t from the way his fingers slipped out and were replaced with his mouth.

“Too much” you had cried out as your hips shifted away from him. He was off you instantly. Leaning up and licking his lips. He placed lips gently against your thigh before he was shifting to sit up. Your eyes were closed so you missed the way he stared at you, before running his hands through his hair as shuffling out from his space between your legs.

You could feel the absence, your eyes opened to find him collecting your clothes from where they had been stripped of around the room. You frown. “What are you doing? I just- I just needed a moment?” You leant up on your elbows, despite the fogginess in your mind.

He frowned when he stood up straight after picking up your t-shirt, his eyes bored into yours and you wish you understood the emotion swirling through them, but you didn’t. You didn’t at all. He just placed your clothes beside you on the bed, before sitting on the edge of it, his hand reaching out to gently brush over your thigh.

“Im not going to have sex with you.” He mumbled, and you weren’t sure what the emotion was that was sent rippling through your body, anger? Hurt? Embarrassment? Rejection? Gratitude? You were suddenly unable to differ them.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you sat up further; reaching out for your t-shirt because you suddenly felt way too exposed in front of him. You tugged it over your head as you spoke; every muscle in your body tense. “Why not?” You barely whispered, your chest still heaving on the come down of your orgasm.

His hand continued rubbing your thigh gently. He looked at you and said your name and you knew what it meant. He felt guilty. You weren’t sure if it was the guilt for everything that had happened or if it was the guilt for possibly having sex with you when he knew he wouldn’t stick around. You wanted to laugh and mumble how that never bothered him before; but you didn’t.

You suddenly felt really embarrassed. “God.” You mumbled out, realisation and regret washing over you as you reached out for the rest of your clothing, shuffling uncomfortably to get dressed as fast as possible, Spencer was quiet, his hand slipped off your thigh when you moved to tug your underwear and pants back on.

“Don’t do- Let me clean you up”

“Get the fuck off me.”

It was an instant switch. An instant reminder that this wasn’t anything other than a horny decision. That things between you and him weren’t okay, and may never be again. A reminder that no matter how much you indulged in the idea that this was nothing more, that this wouldn’t haunt you, you were in love with him, and this was hurting you. He was hurting you, and you let him. You would never forgive yourself for loving him.

He said your name but your mind had shut off.

He frowned when you didn’t reply of acknowledge him, he frowned further when you — disorderly dressed moved to get off his bed, your hair a mess but you couldn’t seem to care.

He reached out for you, “I want to explain, if you hate me after you can go and I’ll never bother you again, I promise. Im sorry? Okay. For everything. I shouldn’t have let this happen- I shouldn’t have taken you here. Im sorry— I love you, Im sorry.”

Your eyes closed when the words left his mouth and your muscles relaxed, not with relief but because you no longer had the energy to remain tense, your arm didn’t pull away from the gentle grip of his hand, the only thing keeping you from leaving. ‘i love you.’ He loved you and you didn’t believe him. You were mentally debating whether you even wanted to stick around to find out anymore, or if you needed to get out right now.

“I hate you.” You were lying. You were hurting him before he was hurting you. You hated that, that this was what was left of you and him. You hated that you wish you meant the words, you hated the way you knew he didn’t believe you, you hated the most that you didn’t believe you either.

He didn’t flinch at your words. You hated that too. “Can you wait till after I explain to decide if thats true?”

You weren’t sure you were capable of thought anymore. You were pretty sure he had taken your entire sense of self, curled it up in a ball and thrown it so far away because you were unable to find it since the day you had kissed him in your kitchen all those months ago. Every aspect of what you had with him, and who you became, you weren’t sure it was for the better.

You definitely doubted it was, when your feet remained planted on the floor, and your gaze met his. “Fine.”

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brooooswriting · 8 months ago

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Please I need a part two for oh I know!!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🩷

Oh I know pt. 2

Part 1

It had been some weeks since your discussion with Leighton and she kept being supportive and encouraging about every decision you made. It got to the point where you felt bad about not being out, especially since you’d love to show her off. You felt the worst when it was her birthday coming up.

“So, my parents and my brother are coming down for my birthday and we are going out to eat. Do you want to join?” She questioned as she typed on her phone. You were chilling in the spare apartment your parents had near campus, and you often went there when your roommates were too much.

“Are the others also going to be there?” You didn’t wanna make it too obvious but you already knew that the blonde figured out why you asked.

“No, but that doesn’t have to mean anything” she tried to convince you.

“Cause you’re someone who brings here friends to her family?” She sighed, knowing that you were right and she dropped the topic after inviting you to go to the theta party after she’s done with her parents. You said you’d try to come and dropped the topic too.

At least you tried, but the whole night, you could only think about how sad she looked even though she tried to hide it. She's been the best girlfriend one could be, and the fact that you couldn't celebrate her birthday with her because you were scared actually made you mad at yourself.

Coming out to your parents/family still scares the living shit out of you but if Leighton's family accepted her, they'd surely accept you too. Plus, coming out to your friends and her family didn't mean that you had to come out to yours too. After a lot of contemplating you finally made up your plan.

“So, where are you guys going for your birthday tomorrow?” you asked as the blonde laid in your arms, a movie playing on the small TV you had in your apartment.

“Oh, the fancy place down the street. It's my dad's favorite lunch place and I'm fine with whatever” Her hesitation was obvious but you decided to ignore it as you were too scared to reveal anything of your plan.

“That's nice. What are you going to wear?” a happy squeal left her mouth and she picked up her phone to show you pictures of her outfit, explaining each detail while your hand rubbed over her waist.

Later that night you walked Leighton home. “Good night baby” You checked your surroundings before you pressed a couple of soft kisses to her lips, trying not to let her notice your nerves building up. “Good night” she pressed a last kiss to your check before disappearing.

At midnight, you texted her happy birthday, how much she meant to you, how much you appreciated her, and that you couldn't wait to see her. She obviously didn't answer until the following day. You shot her a quick answer before getting ready, needing much more time as your nerves went wild. You wore a nice suit with nothing really underneath, styling your hair neatly and doing some natural make-up. Leighton's present was wrapped up and sat on the kitchen counter, your keys and everything else you needed next to it. Nervously shaking you sat on the counter before the clock stroke 2:45 meaning that you had to leave now.

You parked your car at the edge of the campus and walked to the blonde's dorm. Leighton was known for being quite punctual so you didn't knock, instead just standing in front of the door, her present and some roses in hand. You didn't have to wait long as the door opened and revealed your beautiful girlfriend in the doorway, her back turned to you as she still talked to her roommates. “Alright, I'll see you guys later,” she said before turning around, nearly running into your arms. “Y/n? What are you doing here?” she questioned as she looked you up and down.

“I wanted to be your date to your birthday dinner,” you said and shot her a smile. “Happy birthday my love” you added, holding the flowers toward her.

She grabbed the flowers with a confused look before looking back at you. “But I thought you said no?” she played with the leaves of the flowers and leaned against the doorway, unsure of what to think.

“I did…but you're way too awesome to hide and I want to be able to go out with you and give you the life you deserve. I'm not scared of coming out if it means being able to be with you in public. I am in love with you and I want people to know” you explained with a sheepish smile.

Leighton smiled at you and hugged you, “I'm in love with you too.” She pulled back to kiss you passionately. Your hands immediately went to her waist as you reciprocated the kiss. The two of you only pulled back when you heard some awws coming from behind the blonde. Her roommates were standing in the common room of their dorm, staring at you with big smiles. Leighton grumbled and pulled the door shut before pulling you along as you had to get going. “Are you sure about this? I don't want you to regret this”

You chuckled and pulled her into you as you two walked to your car. “I am 100% sure about this. There is nobody I'd rather be out with than you.” The youngest Murray smiled up at you and left the topic alone. You opened the car door for her, acting as if you didn't see everybody on campus staring at you, then closed it before getting in yourself. Your hand placed itself on her thigh while she answered some of her happy birthday texts, a comfortable silence taking over the car. Your nerves got worse with each mile you drove but every time you looked at the girl next to you, you calmed down again. She was definitely worth it.

When you pulled up you already saw the Murrays standing in front of their Range Rover. You parked behind it and gave Leighton a nod before getting out and opening the door for her, holding your hand out to help her get out. “You gonna be fine” she whispered to you as you closed the door and walked up to her family after giving your keys to the valet parking.

“Hello, my name is y/n y/l/n. I am Leighton’s… girlfriend. It's a pleasure to meet you” you said to her parents, shaking each of their hands before settling back to your spot between the siblings. Some anxiety lifted off of you when they smiled at you.

“Well, it's great to meet you y/n. I'm Henry and this is my wife Mimi. Should we go in?” they were extremely nice to you and started to walk in when you two gave them a nod. You were walking behind the rest, your hands intertwined and a big smile on your faces.

The dinner went amazing, her parents were so nice and accepting that your heart ached at the thought of your family never being like this. But when Leighton giggled at some comment Nico made and her parents countered, you couldn't think about anything else but the beauty of this moment.

When dinner was done, and your discussion with Henry over who would pay was over, you walked outside to retrieve your cars. The sun was nearly setting by now and the family still had to drive some hours to get home. “It was really great meeting you y/n. And remember you're invited to the family meeting next month” Mimi said as she hugged you goodbye.

“It was really nice to have you here” Henry said and went to shake your hand, “but don't you dare hurt her” he whispered, still too loud as Leighton groaned behind you.

“I won't sir, I can promise you that” you answered and moved on to say goodbye to her brother when he nodded at you.

Not long after you sat in your car again, your hand placed in hers as you drove back to the campus. “They love you” she happily grinned at you as you drove. “Thank you, for doing this. I know how scared you were” she added.

“This was the greatest thing that I could have done. Thank you for your patience and support baby” you countered as you parked the car and pressed a kiss to her lips. “So, changing and then to the theta party?” she gave you a happy nod and jumped out of the car.

That night you danced together on the dance floor, made out right next to it and went home together with everybody knowing that you were each others. You were happier than every, even though you knee that it was only a small amount of time until your parents would figure it out. But that was a problem for another night.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #tslocg x reader

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oneawkwardwriter · 9 months ago

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Hi i love ur writing. Sorry this is long but could you do a Caspian x pevensie!reader whose susan’s twin and like he chose her over susan and like they meet in prince caspian and fall in love and he “proposes” but then she can’t come back to narnia.

BUT THEN… she goes back with E Lucy and Eustace(whose kinda her enemy in a funny way) for some reason and she’s with Caspian and it’s just them on the Dawn Treader and Lucy tells caspian how sad she’s been the year they were back.

Can it just be really angsty and fluffy at the same time🤭🤭

Sorry this is long i just love ur writing💋💋

Prove Her Wrong

pairing: Dawn Treader!King Caspian x Pevensie!fem!reader warnings: angst obviously, dw it's also fluffy, mentions of drowning (no one actually does, but it feels like it for a moment), amicable banter, pining, regretting decisions, use of y/n (I'm so sorry) summary: both you and caspian have been miserable a/n: aahh, I love this idea so much! Also, thank you for giving me an excuse to watch the movies again, really needed that. I did kind of twist the plot to make it fit better, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Sorry it took this long to write it, my schedule's been packed for the last couple of weeks, I hope the fic makes up for it. wc: 2.6k

It had all happened too fast to comprehend. One second, you're standing in your cousin's room looking at a painting. The next, you're engulfed in a massive ocean trying to keep your head above the surface.

Too busy looking for the younger children, you hadn't even noticed the change in the atmosphere. Everything had gotten a little brighter, the air more fresh, the sky more clear. But you were preoccupied trying to make it out alive as the currents tried to pull you below the surface.

"Lucy!? Edmund!?" You yell out with what little breath you had left. "Eustace!? Anyone, where are you!?"

Somewhere to your right (or left, seeing as you had no sense of direction anymore), you heard a faint voice you recognised as your younger sister calling out for you.

"Lucy!" You manage to get out as you try to swim towards her. As you come closer, you were able to make out the two boys as well.

"What happened, where are we?" Eustace calls out, arms flailing around him as he tries to keep his head above water.

You share a fleeting look with your younger brother and sister, and something in your gut tells you you know exactly where you are.

"We're back, aren't we?" Edmund asks, confirming your suspiscion. But before you can answer his question, a ship dooms up, and it was approaching you rapidly.

"Swim!" You shouted, trying to put a safe distance between you and the ship while also trying to keep the others closeby.

You heard a few loud plunges into the water, and when you turned around for a moment, you saw some of the crewmembers swimming towards you. A moment later, you felt a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist.

"It's alright, I've got you." An all too familiar voice reassures you. You turned around, only to be met with a slightly older version of the man you had been forced to leave behind the last time you had left Narnia.

"Caspian..." You say breathlessly as you look into his eyes.

"Y/n..." He responds, equally out of breathe and clearly both surprised and confused to see you here.

Together with the other crewmates, he helps you onto the ship, even Eustace who is screaming fire and demanding to back to England. Someone hands you a warm blanket, which you gladly accept and drape around your shoulders. You glance at Caspian, and for a moment your gazes lock, before he is pulled away by Edmund.

"Did you call for us?" He asks, to which Caspian shakes his head.

"No, I didn't. Not this time, at least," Caspian answers, glancing over to you once more as he does.

You're interrupted by a shrieking Eustace, who is swatting away a large mouse sitting on his chest.

"Get this filthy animal off of me!" He screeches as he scrambles backwards.

"Pretty sure that mouse is far cleaner than you are, Eustace," You say as you roll your eyes and shake your head. "It's good to see you again, Reepicheep."

"It is a delight to see you as well, Your Majesties," He responds, bowing down for a moment.

Caspian walks up to the stairs that lead to the quarterdeck and addresses the crew. "Men, behold our castaways: Edmund the Just, Lucy the Valient and Y/n the Righteous; High King and Queens of Narnia."

All the men on the ship went down on their knees and bowed deeply in respect of you. No matter how many times you had been called Queen, it always sent shivers down your spine.

Caspian led the three of you towards the King's quarters, which doubled as his study, leaving Eustace in the care of the crew, who had fainted when he had seen Tavros the minotaur. You had been given some dry clothes that fit you like a glove, although your shirt was a little big and had a vaguely familiar scent to it.

In the middle of the room, a huge map of Narnia was sprawled out across the table. You scanned over it, your finger absently tracing the coastal lines as you lightly smiled to yourself. You wouldn't admit it out loud, but you had missed being here when you were back in England.

With Peter and Susan off to America, you been left to stay at your aunt and uncle's house with your younger siblings. At first, you had thought it wildly unfair to be stuck in England whilst your older brother and twin-sister got to live with your parents across the Atlantic ocean.

Eventually, you had calmed down and accepted your fate. Most of the time, you could be found lightly fidgeting with the one possession you had been able to take back with you from your last adventure in Narnia; a simple silver ring you kept on a piece of string around your neck. It reminded you of a time where you didn't feel like the second option, a feeling that haunted you often when being compared to your twin.

"It has been three years since we won Narnia back from my uncle," Caspian explains as he points towards the map, "There is peace in the entire country now."

"And have you found yourself a Queen in those three years?" Lucy asks, making you look up from the map. She truly didn't mean any harm with the question, but Edmund lightly nudges her side and gives her a stern look.

"No," Caspian says with a light chuckle to alleviate the tension, "not one to compare with your sister..."

"Hang on," Edmund interrupts, "But if there's no wars to fight, and no one's in trouble... then why are we here?"

"That's a good question. I've been asking myself the same thing," Caspian answers. "Before I tried to take the throne back from my uncle, he went after my father's closest advisors, the seven Lords of Telmar. They fled to the Lone Islands, but no one has heard from them since."

"So you think something's happened to them?"

"Well, if it has, it's my duty to find out," Caspian says rather solemnly. He looks over at you, trying to get a read on you, but your eyes are glued to the map in front of you.

"What's east of the Lone Islands?" Lucy asks, pointing towards the map where it just says The Great Eastern Ocean.

"Unchartered waters," Drinian, the captain, answers. "Things you could barely imagine. Tales of sea serpents and worse..."

"Sea serpents?" Edmund asks, his face lighting up at the sound of something dangerous to battle against.

"Alright, Captain, that's enough of your tall tales," Caspian interrupts. "You are free to go wherever you want on this ship, it is as much yours as it is mine."

It's a silent cue for Edmund and Lucy to go with the captain and explore the ship, while you stay in the quarters, leaning against the table, your eyes still locked on the parchment. After the door shuts, Caspian speaks up once again.

"Can you at least look at me?" He asks, his voice much softer and hesitant now. "Please?"

You lightly sigh as you look up at him, your eyes instantly finding his. "I'm sorry I left," You say truthfully, even though you sound rather defeated.

"Don't apologise, I- I shouldn't have asked you to stay." This time, it's Caspian who lets his head fall and gaze upon the map. "I knew you couldn't, yet I asked you anyway. I am sorry, for putting you in that position, that was selfish."

"It's alright," You somewhat reassure him, "Aslan knows I would have been just as selfish had roles been reversed. But we can't change the past, and we mustn't let it stand in the way of our future." You take a deep breath as you take a step closer to him. "You deserve a bright future filled with happiness, Caspian. Don't let me stand in the way of that by holding onto something that can't be."

It's the right thing to say, the logical thing to say. You're from a different world, there's no way of knowing if you'll be able to stay in this one after the adventure is over. It guts you to the core to walk out of the King's quarters, it tears your heart apart, but you try to shake it off as you go out onto the main deck.

Luckily for you, you're able to take your mind off of it when you notice your cousin Eustace talking to a regular seagull.

"What on Earth are you doing talking to a bird?" You say, a somewhat smug tone laced in your voice. You're called the Righteous, not the Humble, and for good reason.

"I just assumed that-" Eustace begins, his face turning a light shade of pink.

"That just because a mouse can talk, so must a bird?" Maybe it's a coping mechanism for the shattered heart in your chest, but you let out a light chuckle. "Oh cousin, you have a lot to learn about how things work here. Good to know you can't claim to be the smartest person in every realm." You shake your head and hear a few crewmen chuckle along.

The sky gets darker as the evening falls, and the crew celebrates the your arrival with festive spirits. Sea shanties are sung, dancing goes hand in hand with a lot of laughter and a couple of bottles of liquor are brought out.

Despite the gloomy thoughts that have been haunting you for the day (and the days before that), you laugh and leap along with the crewmen. Even Eustace loosens up a little, although keeping it modest. The only one who seems unaffected by the joyious celebrations is the king, who sits on the staircase and watches the others, or rather, watches you.

At some point, he is joined by Lucy, who due to her young age can't participate in the drinking and adult activities. She sits down next to him and keeps quiet for a little while, before speaking up.

"What's bothering you, Caspian?" She asks softly. "Is it the Lords?"

"For the first time in a long time, it actually isn't, my friend," He says truthfully, letting out a sigh. "It feels like even when she is this close, she is still worlds away."

He didn't have to say your name in order for Lucy to understand. It's the same way you didn't need to mention his whenever she would find you staring mindlessly at the wall or out the window back in England. You would always have that same tragic look in your eyes while you fidgeted with the ring around your neck, no matter how hard you would try to mask it whenever Lucy got your attention.

"You know, she feels the same way right now," Lucy responds, feeling incredibly sorry for both your misery.

"She's evidently better at coping with it than I am." The words came out more bitter than intended, but Lucy couldn't really blame him.

"Out here, maybe. But back in England," She refrained from saying 'back at home', never having been able to call it home when she had missed Narnia too much. "Back in England, she was a mess. A beautiful, poised and collected mess, but crumbling down on the inside."

Caspian didn't speak up, but simply looked sorry and felt even more remorseful than he already had.

"She kept the ring, you know," Lucy continues, "Oh, she would never say it out loud, but it was obvious she regretted leaving Narnia, leaving you most of all. I'm pretty sure she would give anything to stay this time around, if you'd ask her again."

"She told me to let go of a future with her, said she didn't want to stand in the way of my happiness," Caspian argues solemnly, "Sounded a lot like she wanted to move on from all of this."

"That's what she thinks is the right thing to do, because it makes more sense," Lucy counters. "Prove to her that it isn't."

With that, she stands up from the stairs and walks out into the crowd. Turning around one last time, she says:

"Oh, and maybe do something about the beard, it might remind her of the man she fell in love with."

Caspian lightly rolls his eyes at her comment, but decides to take her up on it nonetheless when he retired to the barracks below deck. For the sake of privacy, he had given his quarters to you and Lucy to stay in while you were on the ship.

Later that night, when everyone was passed out in their beds, Caspian went onto the deck to get some fresh air, where he soon notices you, leaning on the railing while you looked up at the stars.

"Still having trouble sleeping?" He asks as he stands next to you.

"Insomnia doesn't go away so easily, it seems," You softly chuckle, having to do a double take when you notice he has shaved. "I was almost getting used to that beard, but I'm glad you shaved it off any way."

"What is it with the hostility against my facial hair?" Caspian comments as he raises an eyebrow at you. "I thought it made me look ruggedly handsome."

"Who'd you have to look ruggedly handsome for before we showed up today?" You ask in a mocking way, making you lightly snicker when Caspian takes on a defensive tone. "Oh, stop it, I was merely teasing."

"Teasing, are you now?" He asks, a mischievous glint sparking up in his eyes as he leans in just a little. "That's not very Queen-like behaviour, now is it?"

You lightly sigh, letting your head fall for a moment before you speak up. "Perhaps I've gotten a bit rusty," You note, "I haven't been a Queen for a while now, you know?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's like riding a horse," Caspian assures you, "It's not something you can unlearn, even if you don't practice anymore."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing. Might make the next time I leave more easy..."

"You're still planning on leaving after this adventure?" Caspian asks, his voice growing a little more quiet. "You can stay, you do know that, right? You did the first time, surely you can-"

"Caspian, please," You interrupt him, pushing away from the railing and taking a few steps back, "It's too difficult, you know that. I can't just leave my family behind, and I can't ask them to stay."

"You don't have to do that. I am certain there's a way for you to move freely between realms," Caspian suggests, "And if there isn't, we'll find a way. Somehow, things like this have a way of working out."

He takes a step towards you, reaching out but refraining from touching you just yet. "Besides," He continues, "Time goes by much slower there than it does here right? We can figure this out and they won't even notice you're not there."

He searches for your eyes as he takes another step towards you, a silent longing in his eyes as he does. "You don't have to come with an answer right now. Whether it's tomorrow, next week or at the very last second, I don't care as long as you're certain that whatever you choose is something you actually want, not what you think is right."

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. "Okay," You say after a while. Your eyes are still closed, but a small creeps up on your lips.

"Okay?" Caspian echoes, his eyes sparking up, even though he's not sure he heard you correctly.

"Yeah," You say, opening your eyes to look into his. "Okay, I'll stay. But I might change my mind if you don't come here and kiss me, because-"

Luckily, he cuts you off mid-sentence by pulling you in and effectively using his lips to shut you up. You can feel him smile against your lips, and you can't help but reciprocate the gesture while your hands run up into his hair.

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