#from two or three years old brought into a terrifying woman’s care

[starwarmth]

We were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss Havisham still had Estella’s arm drawn through her own, and still clutched Estella’s hand in hers, when Estella gradually began to detach herself. She had shown a proud impatience more than once before, and had rather endured that fierce affection than accepted or returned it.

“What!” said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, “are you tired of me?”

“Only a little tired of myself,” replied Estella, disengaging her arm, and moving to the great chimney-piece, where she stood looking down at the fire.

“Speak the truth, you ingrate!” cried Miss Havisham, passionately striking her stick upon the floor; “you are tired of me.”

Estella looked at her with perfect composure, and again looked down at the fire. Her graceful figure and her beautiful face expressed a self-possessed indifference to the wild heat of the other, that was almost cruel.

“You stock and stone!” exclaimed Miss Havisham. “You cold, cold heart!”

“What?” said Estella, preserving her attitude of indifference as she leaned against the great chimney-piece and only moving her eyes; “do you reproach me for being cold? You?”

“Are you not?” was the fierce retort.

“You should know,” said Estella. “I am what you have made me. Take all the praise, take all the blame; take all the success, take all the failure; in short, take me.”

“O, look at her, look at her!” cried Miss Havisham, bitterly; “Look at her, so hard and thankless, on the hearth where she was reared! Where I took her into this wretched breast when it was first bleeding from its stabs, and where I have lavished years of tenderness upon her!”

“At least I was no party to the compact,” said Estella, “for if I could walk and speak, when it was made, it was as much as I could do. But what would you have? You have been very good to me, and I owe everything to you. What would you have?”

“Love,” replied the other.

“You have it.”

“I have not,” said Miss Havisham.

“Mother by adoption,” retorted Estella, never departing from the easy grace of her attitude, never raising her voice as the other did, never yielding either to anger or tenderness, “Mother by adoption, I have said that I owe everything to you. All I possess is freely yours. All that you have given me, is at your command to have again. Beyond that, I have nothing. And if you ask me to give you what you never gave me, my gratitude and duty cannot do impossibilities.”

“Did I never give her love!” cried Miss Havisham, turning wildly to me. “Did I never give her a burning love, inseparable from jealousy at all times, and from sharp pain, while she speaks thus to me! Let her call me mad, let her call me mad!”

“Why should I call you mad,” returned Estella, “I, of all people? Does any one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I do? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half as well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool that is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up into your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!”

“Soon forgotten!” moaned Miss Havisham. “Times soon forgotten!”

“No, not forgotten,” retorted Estella. “Not forgotten, but treasured up in my memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have you found me unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving admission here,” she touched her bosom with her hand, “to anything that you excluded? Be just to me.”

“So proud, so proud!” moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her grey hair with both her hands.

“Who taught me to be proud?” returned Estella. “Who praised me when I learnt my lesson?”

“So hard, so hard!” moaned Miss Havisham, with her former action.

“Who taught me to be hard?” returned Estella. “Who praised me when I learnt my lesson?”

“But to be proud and hard to me!” Miss Havisham quite shrieked, as she stretched out her arms. “Estella, Estella, Estella, to be proud and hard to me!”

Estella looked at her for a moment with a kind of calm wonder, but was not otherwise disturbed; when the moment was past, she looked down at the fire again.

“I cannot think,” said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence “why you should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation. I have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been unfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness that I can charge myself with.”

“Would it be weakness to return my love?” exclaimed Miss Havisham. “But yes, yes, she would call it so!”

“I begin to think,” said Estella, in a musing way, after another moment of calm wonder, “that I almost understand how this comes about. If you had brought up your adopted daughter wholly in the dark confinement of these rooms, and had never let her know that there was such a thing as the daylight by which she had never once seen your face—if you had done that, and then, for a purpose had wanted her to understand the daylight and know all about it, you would have been disappointed and angry?”

Miss Havisham, with her head in her hands, sat making a low moaning, and swaying herself on her chair, but gave no answer.

“Or,” said Estella, ”—which is a nearer case—if you had taught her, from the dawn of her intelligence, with your utmost energy and might, that there was such a thing as daylight, but that it was made to be her enemy and destroyer, and she must always turn against it, for it had blighted you and would else blight her;—if you had done this, and then, for a purpose, had wanted her to take naturally to the daylight and she could not do it, you would have been disappointed and angry?”

Miss Havisham sat listening (or it seemed so, for I could not see her face), but still made no answer.

“So,” said Estella, “I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.”

Great Expectations, ch. 38

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[alg1905]

2 Demons 1 Angel Ch4 Abigail: The Forgotten Past

Abigail

I knew both of their voices. The silly mask covering Damian’s eyes hid nothing from me. I just didn’t say anything about it yet because there were more important things to talk about. His rhythm thumped fast. His looks are similar to Daniel, but I am sure they are complete opposites. The large man next to him, I also knew. Hamia. I knew that this was my hamia. It was so long ago.

Damian asked, “What are you two talking about?” He was looking back and forth at me and Jason.

Jason was still staring at me.

I bit my lip. “It was a long time ago. I was a kid.  I was tortured by… him.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Who?”

I hesitated. I was looking at the floor biting my lip, I remembered what Daniel said to me. Damian cared about him.  He did right in Damian’s eyes. He treated Damian differently than us. I could never care about him, the one who caused so much pain.  The one who took… them.

Jason spoke for me “Your grandfather.”

I slowly nodded.  Damian looked utterly annoyed, but he was hiding his confusion well, I could still tell.  I mean I have been studying that face for the better part of my life. 

Damian’s voice turned cold.  “Explain.”

I took a deep breath. “The… the old man took me away and he hurt me … for a long time. At some point Jason found me chained next to the pit.” My voice trembled.

“You were probably three or four.  This was the time when I stayed with the league.  For years I didn’t remember much about my past, so Talia made me her personal babysitter for you Damian.”  This part sounded familiar to Damian as he was nodding to Jason. “You were about seven when my memory started to fully come back, I couldn’t leave as I was bound to serve Talia.  Once I had my memory back, I noticed Ras going down to the pits nearly every night, about every third night he would bring water.  After six months of this I decided to investigate. I waited and followed him down, hiding behind a bolder. What I saw … there are no words.” He said looking at me. “After Ras went back up, I went to get a closer look.  I saw you battered, scared, branded, and when you heard me-“

I cut him off “I thought it was him again. Before that night, I thought me and him were the only things that existed.  I knew nothing else. Then …” my voice trailed off; Jason picked back up.

“You were terrified, and I tried to calm you down.  I asked your name, and you hesitated and said ‘child’.” 

I flinched at the name. No at the brand, I was given that still haunts me till this day. Damian noticed but didn’t say anything, though I am sure he will ask later.  Damian’s face appeared to be stone, but I saw the tells.  ‘His left hand tensed around the table because of rage, the slight quivering of his lip not wanting to believe one thing out of our mouths’. He hid them well, but not enough for me not to notice. His rhythm pounding faster, as if he should be running.

Jason continued, “I knew she couldn’t live without a name, something to call her own. I thought and gave you the name Abigail. I told you my name was Jason, and I wasn’t there to hurt you. You were so scared. I quickly undid your chains and picked you up, I couldn’t… leave you there. When we came up, alarms went off and I tried to get you out of there. There were assassins on our tail, and they hit me with something.”

“Metal stars.” I whispered. “Many hit you, you were still running. Finally, he came and stabbed you before we could escape. There were others trapping us, he was… about to kill you when a woman came to us with a kid trailing behind.  She told him no, that she would decide your punishment.” Hot tears rushed down my face, “I thought he still took you and killed you. I don’t remember anything after that other than pain.”

They were both staring at me, Damian was visibly showing his shock. “I am going to check on Daniel”. I said, walking into the other room.  I had told them the first part of my story, I needed to breathe before I brought up anything else.

[amberthefantasy]

Nitimur in Vetitum

chapter one: sanguis (blood)

"Lucretia Julia Caesaris, or as she would be known to history, Empress Lucretia, is one of the most powerful women in the history of Europe, if not the world. However, just hours after the death of Gaius Julius Caesar the 19 year old could never have imagined what she would become." -Roman Women: The Women Who Influenced the History of Rome by Paul Chrystal

Ides of March in the Year of Caesar and Antonius (15th March, 44 BCE)

Lucretia was terrified, but even that may not be a strong enough word to describe her emotions in this moment. Her father's corpse was laid out before her, blood still seeping from the wounds upon his body. No words would come to her, even as Silvius placed a hand on her back and attempted to lead her away from the corpse. "No," Lucretia snapped, pushing her husband's hand off, "I will stay with him."

"Lucretia, he is gone. We must find Marcus Antonius and figure out what must be done," Silvius said in his regular shaky voice. 

"No," she repeated, "go if you will, find Antonius. But I will remain by my father's side until his bones have burnt to ash and his blood has watered the roots of the earth."

"You, woman, are too stubborn for your own good," the man snapped, but he didn't argue with her again, simply turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"Why pater? why was he the man you chose? and why did you leave me alone with him?" Lucretia had spent years of her life after when it would be proper for a Roman woman to marry without a single suiter. Her father had always told Lucretia that she could pick her husband, a man she enjoyed. That was until December of the year before, when he had informed her that she was to marry Silvius Fabius Maximus, a friend of her fathers. Lucretia had been furious. Until the exact day of her wedding, she'd screamed and raged at her father. Silvius was not a very attractive man and they'd never been close.

But Lucretia was a roman woman, and roman women did what they were told. So in ianuarius of that year, they had married. Though Lucretia had refused to let him into her bed. He could try, and he had, multiple times since their wedding but Lucretia would not change her mind. She didn't care for him and she would not lose her virtue to a man she did not care for.

Now, just two months later, here she was alone and bloodied. Holding the limp hand of her murdered father.

There was no sound in the darkened house.

--

It was a long while before anyone entered the house. Calpurnia, her stepmother, had retreated to her chambers in tears when the body was brought in. Now she returned to the tablinum where Caesar's body lay. Three slaves followed behind her, two with buckets in hand. "Lucretia, my sweet, we must prepare the body"

Lucretia blinked, "a moment more stepmother."

Calpurnia sighed, "Nerva, place the cypress at the door." One of the slaves bowed, taking two branches in his hands and heading towards the entrance way. "Come now sweet Lucretia, we have grieved for hours. His body has cooled, we must clean it and prepare for the proper ceremonies."

Lucretia sat still for another moment, her hand laid across the cold body of her father, "yes, yes we must."

Lucretia stood and took one of the cloths from a slave who she did not recognize. She dipped the cloth into one of the buckets and pressed the water onto his bloodied arm. Calpurnia smiled and began to help, "where is the undertaker?" the older woman asked. 

"From what I've heard, the streets have been cleared. No one will come here, not for him ," Lucretia whispered, it was bad form to speak loudly around the recently deceased. "Gaius Julius Caesar."

"Gaius Julius Caesar," Calpurnia repeated, and from them they fell into silence. Simply pressing soaked cloths into the bloody skin of the dictator and watching the watered blood run onto the tiled ground beneath them.

--

It was after dawn the next morning when they were joined by another. And soon many friends of her father's joined them in the household. Silvius had managed to find Marcus Antonius and had brought the consul to their home to plan their next move. 

Now Lucretia and Calpurnia were forced to sit in the atrium and wait for the men to tell them what to do.

"I hate this," Lucretia finally snapped, "sitting here, waiting for them to finish their plans. Plans that no doubt will be foolish and rash, given the temperaments of the men in the room."

"Come now my sweet, what else would you have be done?" Calpurnia said softly, reaching out to take Lucretia's hand.

"I don't know, perhaps we shall go to the murderers and take the blood that is owed us!"

"You would have them hunt the conspirators down and kill them all? That is not possible, many support those men and they have many powerful positions-"

Lucretia scoffed, cutting her stepmother off mid sentence, "I would have my own knife pearce their hearts."

"Lucretia-" Calpurnia began with a chiding note to her voice.

"Do not! Do not chide me for wanting vengeance upon those who have slain my father!" Lucretia snapped at her, standing in a single sharp movement.

"It would not be-" Calpurnia tried again.

"-proper? No it would not, but I do not care, my FATHER was murdered and I will have my revenge upon his killers," she hissed, leaning towards the older woman with narrowed eyes.

"What are you ladies discussing?" Marcus Antonius's voice cut off whatever Calpurnia was going to say in response.

"How I shall take my vengeance upon those who killed my father," Lucretia said, turning to him with a smile.

"Oh? Well, perhaps you shall, but not today. Today I will call a senate meeting and then we shall open your father's will once I have discovered the extent of the conspirators' plans," Antonius told her, already fixing the toga clasp at his shoulder.

Lucretia nodded, watching the man, and some others that had joined in the planning, exit the house. "Do not fret my love," Silvius's voice came from close beside her as he placed his hand upon her hip. Lucretia cringed away from him and shot a glare to her right. He didn't react, "Antonius shall ensure we are safe."

"I do not care for my safety, I want my vengeance." Lucretia repeated, pushing his hand away and returning to her father's side. "And I will have it, I will."

--

Lucretia was furious again. Antonius stood before her, the two were alone as Calpurnia had left to retrieve her father's will from its place in the Temple of Vesta and Silvius had escorted her. "What do you mean you have given them an amnesty?" Lucretia hissed.

"It was best for us all, Lucretia. If I did not grant them an amnesty for the murder they would have named it a tyrannicide, then all would be lost." Antonius said in a placating voice.

"They could not name it such. If they named the murder a tyrannicide then all my fathers laws and appointments would be null and void. They would lose all positions granted to them by him, and the people would be furious."

Antonius raised an eyebrow, "you... know quite a bit about politics then?"

"My father wanted me educated as he would educate a son," Lucretia proudly stated, raising her head slightly. She had expected that reaction, she always got it. Men were always surprised when she revealed her knowledge on these things. She told truth, as to why she knew them, her father had gifted her many books and scrolls full of things that women would not often be taught. He had also spent hours telling her about the decisions he was making in the Senate. She was after all his only blood child, so she had to be informed of the family's political moves.

"How kind of a father he was," Antonius said, though there was an odd note to his voice. At that moment Calpurnia and Silvius reentered the room.

"Porcius," Calpurnia called to one of the slaves, "read this for us."

The pale slave took the will and opened it. The door opened suddenly before he could begin speaking. "Cousin Atia!" Lucretia called, standing to give the new arrivals a proper greeting. 

"Cousin Lucretia," Atia smiled, her daughter Octavia stood behind her smiling, "how I have missed your presence, but oh what a terrible way to meet."

Lucretia nodded and smiled softly, taking Octavia in hand and greeting her as well. "Yes well, you have arrived just in time to hear his last wishes."

The three took their seat and Lucretia waved towards the slave, "well, read on."

He bowed, cleared his throat and began. "I, Gaius Julius Caesar do hereby confirm that this is my final will and testament. Having made due provision with the well-being and security of my honest and dutiful wife, Calpurnia, et cetera. I leave the sum of 75 denarii to every enrolled citizen and I gift my gardens to the citizens of Rome to use as they please.

My name and the remainder of my estate, with all legal obligations and benefits, all remaining property, gold, silver, and other monies, I leave to Gaius Octavius. Who is henceforth to be regarded for all intents and purposes and my lawful son and heir."

There was silence. "Gaius Octavius? Cousin Gaius?" Lucretia asked softly.

"My Gaius..." Atia whispered, "adopted... heir?"

"Well, isn't that wonderful," Antonius said, though he didn't sound like he found it wonderful.

"Gaius, he will be..." yes Lucretia could work with Gaius. From what she knew of her cousin, he was a good man, a young one and a promiscuous one, but a good man nonetheless. And if Lucretia could get him to see that her marriage was failing, that would change things. As her new pater familias Gaius would be able to request her marriage be annulled because of its lack of consummation. She just hoped he would return to Rome and accept his adoption.

"Now we have a funeral to plan." Lucretia said.

--

16th Day before the Kalends of May (16th April, 44 BCE)

This day Lucretia was delighted. Gaius was returning to Rome. For two weeks now, Lucretia had been full of both delight and righteous anger. The day of her father's funeral, on the 13th day before the Kalends of April, those who led the murder of her father had fled the city. This had made Lucretia happy of course, they deserved to fear the anger of the people they had wronged. But it had also made her angry for it robbed her of the chance to plot her vengeance.

Today though, she felt the delight more than the anger. Her cousin, her new pater familias if all went well, was returning to Rome to claim his inheritance. Lucretia hoped that the young man would be helpful in her plans. 

"Lucretia! He's here," Atia called.

Lucretia smiled, standing and heading to the entrance of the home. Once she reached the door, she saw the man that had returned to Rome. Gaius's hair had grown out some since he had left for Greece, now it sat just above his shoulders in soft waves. His tunic was pale in colour and tied with a golden belt. "Gaius!" Atia called for her son, taking his head in hand.

"Mother," Gaius smiled, offhandedly giving one of the slaves his horse's reins, "I've missed you."

One of the men behind him dismounted as well, and smiled at Atia. "Agrippa," she smiled, kissing him as well. "I am happy you have returned with my son."

"I am happy to have returned as well," the man, Agrippa said. Lucretia had heard of him, though they had never met face to face before.

"Cou... sister," Gaius said with a smile.

"Brother," Lucretia stepped forward to give him a kiss in greeting, "you are accepting the adoption then?"

"Of course," Gaius said, glancing at his mother, who pursed her lips but didn't speak.

Lucretia looked between them for a moment, before turning to the other man. "I do not believe we have met, I am Lucretia Julia Caesaris of the Julii."

He smiled at her and stepped forward to kiss her cheeks, "it's a pleasure, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa."

They smiled at each other for a moment. "Well," Gaius cut in, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "what have I missed?"

NiV masterlist / full masterlist

[ladylauviah-blog]

Caliente Family

1st generation: Nestor & Dulcinea & Pollination Technician 7

Life was hectic - both Dulcinea and Nestor had their share of affair with Pollination, but Dulcinea was the one to fill for divorce, when Nestor became pregnant. He along with Pol were raising Tango (Nestor's and Dulcinea's son) and Flamenco (their son).

Nestor and Dulcinea lived separately for a few years but they reconciled when Tango was a teenager. They married again, Pol stayed with them and began dating male maid. Things were looking good, especially when Dulcinea gave birth to two more kids - Samba (a girl) and Merengue (a boy).

They all died peacefull from old age.

2nd generation: Tango: The oldest Caliente boy. He was a doctor who loved fun and money equally. He was the most handsome sim ever. He married Frida Goth, they had two kids - Jive and Carioca. Carioca was a surprise baby, as Jive was one and only planned boy they wanted. But still, Carioca was loved, cared for and she inherited family home when time has come.

Tango died recently - living long and really fullfiling life. His life was mostly boring, but he never complained. Neither did Frida. She also is fortune/pleasure sim and actually she is looking after hers and Tango's grandkids nearing her end from old age. But who knows, maybe she will see greatgrandchild or two.

Samba: Well, her life was full of fun, love and romance. She grew up to be a romance sim who took virginity of most of her colleagues and friends - and she certainly wasn't picky, boy or girl, no difference. It really is a miracle that she didn't end with surprise baby even once. She was romance/family, so when she was nearing her 40's, she finally settled down. Her husband was also a surprise, to be honest - the one and only Primo Fiorello, a widower at that time. They were both very happy together and Samba bore three children - Aurelio, Lucilla and Giovanni. When she died in childbirth with Giovanni and was brought back by Primo, she was terrified of death and fleeting age, so she seek out a vampire and made a deal. She became undead and was watching over her family till Primo lived - he didn't want to be a vampire, so he died peacefully of old age. When his time came, Samba kissed all her children goodbye and disappeared into Downtown. She calls them from time to time to check on them, or to invite them to visit some fun places together.

Merengue: Well, for most of his young life he tried to pursue Tina Traveller, who was super popular with the boys at that time. He had a few rejected kisses but ultimately burning passion connected both of them at college and they even got engaged. Sadly, Tina broke up with Merengue when she met Garrett Goodie (Newson, adopted by Goodies). Merengue decided to build himself a perfect woman - a robot - but before he accomplished this goal he died struck by sattelite, to huge distress of whole his family.

And Flamenco, the one and only: He was half alien, so he was green. Dulcinea raised him better that two men at once, so he loved her dearly as his own mother. Then came college, quick marriage with his long time girlfriend Nighat Al Mahmoud. He was doing two things he liked most - working with Film Industry and making babies. He and Nighat had five kids - in order, Tina, Gina, twins Nina and Dina, and their baby brother Vin, who was a surprise baby when Nighat was like 50 years old. Also, only he inherited his fathers green skin. Recently they both died from old age, but they got the chance to meet all their grandkids.

3rd generation: Tango's kids:

Jive - he was a little nerd from the beginning, who wanted to be doctor like his dad. He accomplished this. Had huge problems with his love life but ultimately managed to woo Beryl Ruggbyrne. She, as a romance sim, wasn't sure if she does the right thing, but being pregnant all the time in big mansion was easier than being pregnant all the time in little apartment that her first fiance had. Jive and Beryl had four kids together - Muineira, twins Rumba and Salsa, and Fandango. They left Tango's and Frida's mansion to their kids and moved to small apartment. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, Beryl got admitted to Mental Asylum. Jive waits for her return patiently.

Carioca - Wasn't sure what she wants from life for a very long time. Had a few flings, but after college decided to say yes to August Goodie, her kinda boyfriend from teenhood. They fell in love (or they think they are in love) and had a baby boy together, Carmel. Unfortunately, August has ugly nose, and Carmel inherited it. Oh well, not the looks are the most important…

Samba's kids: Aurelio - aspiring actor, struggled financially for many, many years till he got a few profitable jobs. He was also trying with a few women, with no luck, till new girl moved to aparment below his. Love struck both of them and Aurelio got married to Priscilla. They tried a few years for kids and recently welcomed a son, Evaristo.

Lucilla - family sim with no idea for herself. She was dating Crumplebottom Heir, Edward, and when they both became adults, they married, so Edward could get and male heir. They succeded and Lucilla gave birth to twins, Ermes and Elvira. Lucilla struggles with weight gain and altough she is lazy as f-, she tries her best. Still, Edward loves her as she is, no drama here.

Giovanni - this little home wrecker destroyed one cute relationship because he wanted someone to fuck him. Really. Had a friend - Mathilde Goth - who was in a happy relationship, even pregnant then, but still he seduced her. They slept together. So, Mathilde was feeling guilty, she dumped her boyfriend and ended her pregnancy while she still could. Fortunately Giovanni is a fortune sim with a soft spot for aliens, so he won't be sad when Mathilde won't became pregnant with him - she now can't have babies. She silently believes that Giovanni will be abducted by aliens so she will have a baby of her own.

Flamenco's kids: Tina - got married to James Marsh, older brother of Tiffany Marsh (who is John Burb's mother). She was focused on her career for most of her adult life but had one child with James, boy Matthew. James is constantly cheating on her with his stepmother, but she doesn't know. Matthew does, though. And he is silent about this.

Gina - got married to Damien Danders, younger brother of Diane Danders (who is Daniel Pleasant's mother). Wanted a big family, but only had one boy, Lucas. She was disliked by her in-laws because she's part alien. Damien had a violent strike in their marriage and she was sitting for years near ticking bomb. Damien, shady businessman (more on him later) got her admitted do Mental Asylum.

Dina - popularity sim. Story wrote itself, as she met Michael Bachelor by complete accident - they hit off and married. She became step-mom for his two kids, and had a son of her own. He is green. Also, Dina climbed top of politics career and became mayor or Pleasantview.

Nina - fortune sim. For reasons unknown to me, as a young adult wanted to have a baby, even though she was completely single then and was pursuing medical career. She met Mike Steel, who was mending his broken heart, she led him to bed and has his child. Mike felt responsible so he asked Nina to move in and marry (altough he was terrified she would say "no"). She said yes and they learned to love each other. They recenlty moved into Strangetown.

Vin - the youngest of Flamenco kids. Got married to Beatrice Bachelor (who is Michael Bachelor's daughter from his first marriage). He inherited his family home, but recently they sold it and build completely new one. They have two sons together, Ciro and Noa. Noa inherited green skin and his moms red hair - cutest combo ever.

4th generation: Muineira (Jive and Beryl) - single, aspiring to be known book author, lives with Frida and his brothers. Salsa (Jive and Beryl) - married to Haneul Huang and moved in with him. Young teacher, still tries to befriend her in-laws. Rumba (Jive and Beryl) - involved with Daisy Dreamer (younger sister of Darren Dreamer). She moved in with him and lives with him and his two brothers and grandmother. Fandango (Jive and Beryl) - just became and adult. Had a brief fling with girl named Honey, but they separated. Maybe he will get involved with Tara Kat, who moved into town recently.

Carmel (Carioca and August) - a teen who has completely no luck in love. Wants to be a plantsim or marry an alien. Obvs has a thing for color green.

Evaristo (Priscilla and Aurelio), Ermes and Elvira (Lucilla and Edward) - still a babies and kids.

Matthew (Tina and James) - married and has a baby of his own, Rex.

Lucas (Gina and Damien) - married his girlfriend, Miverva Goth (adopted daughter of Wulf Goth - Morty's twin brother) and they have three kiddos together - boy Blaise and twin girls Laetitia and Laura.

Artem (Nina and Mike) - recently became and adult and married Freya Beaker (who is Bjorn Beaker's younger step-sister).

Dylan (Dina and Michael) - popularity sim who wants to follow his mothers politicial footsteps. Single, lives with his mom, dad, uncle and aunt.

Ciro and Noa (Vin and Beatrice) - nothing much to say here. Ciro is a teen and Noa is a kid.

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.114 - Mending the Trust

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

Kiera confronts Simon about his lie.

Angered, Kiera returned to the ranch with that familiar, yet terrifying gleam in her eye. Sitting outside their home in the driveway, she then became more infuriated at the fact that nobody was there with Baler being at school, Simon being at work with the twins, and Eva being at her weekly brunch date with her friends. Ain't life just good? She scoffed to herself, putting the car in reverse before heading to the station to see Simon for herself after learning the information received from Laswell. How many secrets is my own husband keeping from me? 

Once parked at the police station, she scoffed to herself as she saw Simon's car sitting in the parking lot. Expecting the worst due to her past experiences, she expected him to be leant up against his own car with a younger and far more beautiful woman who had nothing tying her down... No kids, working a part-time job, and looking for a nice military man to take care of her needs. I bet he will by the time I'm done. Leaving her purse in the car, she walked into the station and through the metal detector before walking to the front desk. "Good afternoon, ma'am. Who are you here to see?" 

"Lieutenant Riley." 

The younger woman looked back towards his office that was the last door of the corridor. "Um... Did you have an appointment?" 

Kiera arched her brow and scoffed, "So his own wife needs an appointment to see him? Especially when he has our children?" 

"Oh- Ma'am, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that he was in a meeting a half hour ago. I-I'll call him." 

She rolled her eyes out of impatience and proceeded to walk down the hallway, gently opening the door to see him sitting at his desk - fully dressed in his uniform and tactical vest set aside, his elbow on the desk while his other hand gripped the armrest of the chair while three other chairs sat across from him: two men and a woman. 

Slowly, Simon's eyes moved towards the door to acknowledge the unannounced visitor, aggravation in his eyes before he realized it was Kiera, his gaze softening at the sight of his wife, a brief smirk splaying on his face. 

"Then I figured we could-" The older man stopped mid-sentence. "Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Riley." 

She flashed a weak smile, "Where's my children?" 

Oh, fuck, she's going to be mad... Simon sighed to himself, immediately regretting his decision to leave the infants sleeping in the bassinets that were in the holding room across the hall - only doing so to keep them asleep during his meeting as they had been restless the entire morning without their mother. 

And to make matters worse, the only person that offered to watch them while in his meeting was the flattering 29-year-old corrections officer who offered to watch the babies during her lunch break. 

Of course, this was only the number of times Simon had ever seen her. He had no physical attraction towards her, but she certainly did. What woman wouldn't? A tall, handsome former military man who prioritized his children over anything thrown his way was definitely in every woman's fantasy one way or the other. 

"Across the hall, love. I finally got them to sleep before my meeting started." 

She nodded before exiting the room, knocking once on the door across the hall before she was greeted by the brunette holding her son comfortably in her arms. "Can I help you?" She asked sweetly. 

Kiera's heart sank into her chest as well as anger spiking through her mind. Who was this woman caring and nurturing her son? How many times had she done this already when Simon had brought the babies to work with him when Kiera would have a doctor's appointment or attend a work meeting? "Just checking on my children since they're not in their father's office with him." She scoffed. 

"O-Oh, I'm sorry. Simon never mentioned he had a wife..." 

"Is that right?" 

"I mean, it's never been brought up, but I assumed he did by suddenly coming back with a ring on his finger," She breathed a giggle. "They're sleeping so well. They were causing him trouble this morning." 

"Uh huh. How many times have you watched them while he's working in the office?" 

"Quite a few, I suppose. He'll have them for almost the whole day until he has a meeting, then he'll call me and ask if I can watch them for about an hour or so. It's not throughout his entire shift. He just doesn't want them to be bothered while he has his meetings because of the radios going off and the Chief talks really loud." 

Well, that's somewhat reassuring, I guess... 

Just as Kiera was going to reply, the door to Simon's office opened, revealing the three individuals that she had seen before, walking a single file line back down the corridor, except his Chief stayed behind for a few moments, "Well, Riley, I'll leave ya to it. Your wife looks like she's eager to speak with you," He teased with a warm smile and the same mustache her father had, immediately pinching her heart at the thought. "Now Kiera, please don't break anything! He's got a new lamp on his desk, and it was a lot of money!" He poked. 

"Oh, I don't plan on breaking anything." She forced a laugh before he softly shut the door behind him. 

Simon knew that look in her eye and as happy as he was to see her, he knew it wasn't going to be the warm welcome he was expecting. He watched as she took a seat in front of his desk, noting the familiar, yet scary gleam she had in her eye. Busted...

"How'd it go with Laswell?" He asked, watching her cross her legs and cupping her knee with her hands, the diamond on her left hand sparkling with the impaling sunlight beaming through the blinds. 

"Oh, you know, the usual," She replied sarcastically. She knows something. Especially when I feel like I'm the one being interrogated... Simon gulped to himself, forcing himself to keep his composure. "I just have one question for you, Lieutenant." 

Fucking hell, here it comes... "Hm?" 

"How long were you expecting to hide this from me?" 

"Hide what?" 

"Okay, here's another question: how stupid do you think I am?" She scoffed. 

He huffed, "I don't think you're stupid, love." 

"So how long did you think you were going to keep this secret of yours from me?" 

"What secret?" 

"Does September 21st of this year ring a fucking bell?" She scoffed, watching him break eye contact with her. "Oh, and on top of that, I found out Makarov is in some prison but still running a group of PMC's to invade Urzikstan-"

"Konni Group." He answered lowly.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you already fucking knew that," She scoffed. "Just like you knew Graves was still alive and teaming up with Alex and Farah in Urzikstan?" 

"Graves is alive?" He questioned, his tone holding no sense of surprise nor dread, Kiera instantly knowing that he had known all along and chose not to tell her. 

"I'm not here to play games," She scoffed, standing up to walk towards the door before Simon stood up to stop her, putting himself between the door and her to prevent her from leaving. "Move." 

"Love, stop," He sighed, gently holding her shoulders. "I'm not playing games with you-" He tried to reassure her with a soft tone to his voice. 

"Should've told me that before you started gaslighting me. But wait, you've had quite a track record with not telling me things that're important, haven't you? From reinstating your status in the S.A.S a month before our wedding, to not telling me Graves was alive after I was sure that fucker was dead when you were the one who said you didn't feel a pulse after the fact, and not telling me that you have some woman in the room across the hall with our children asking her to watch them when you're in your apparent meetings. I'm not doing this." 

"Kiera-"

"Move." She stated again, hating that she had to talk to her own husband this way just to get her point across. 

"Love, listen to me. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to worry. You already have so much to worry about and the last thing I wanted to do was add on to that when I could have it taken care of myself-"

"Oh, now you're sorry? You didn't think to come clean when you looked me dead in my eyes while we were on our fucking honeymoon stuffing our faces with cheesecake and popcorn in Las Vegas when I deliberately asked you if you'd go back and you told me that you wouldn't because you had 'priorities'?" 

He sighed, looking down at the floor after not being able to handle the pain in her eyes at the fact that he did lie to her, but he felt he was doing her a favor by keeping that worry out of her mind. "I'm sorry." 

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't have lied to me in the first place," She scoffed. "I've said what was on my mind. Now move. I'm getting my children and going home." 

"No, you didn't," He shook his head. "You didn't say what was on your mind." 

"Oh, so you want me to really hurt your feelings today if I were to say what was on my mind?" She arched her brow. 

"Yeah, I do. I can take it." 

"I'm not sure about that. By the time I'm done saying what's on my mind, you'll want a divorce and you'll hit up that pretty young brunette over there taking care of our children when you don't feel like watching them-"

"Stop," He warned, his voice heaving a threatening tone. "That'll never happen. I'm sorry I kept this from you, love. I did it because I didn't want to worry you even more, especially after all of the shite we've been through already-"

"So even then how would you have told me you reinstated your status, huh? When it was time for you to fucking deploy so you could use that time apart to your advantage and not have to worry about arguing about it when you got back?" 

"I was going to tell you, Kiera. It just wasn't the time to-"

"I bet Soap already told Teeter." 

"He hasn't." 

"Well, ain't that going to be fun? What's next? Are you going to tell me that you really didn't kill Shepherd and he's out galivanting with Graves in the middle east?" 

"I did kill him, Kiera," He spoke lowly. "I can promise you that." 

"You know, it's a damn shame I have to find out things like this from a former supervisor and not my own husband," She scoffed, shaking her head to fight back tears of what felt like betrayal. "You should've told me the truth when I asked you that night. I was looking for reassurance, Simon, and you still lied to me." 

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to ruin our honeymoon by telling you that-"

"So you left it to Laswell to call me when things are about to go to shit?" 

"No, I had no idea Laswell was going to even call you. We're not even expected to deploy. I just reinstated for good measure just in case." 

"You should fucking know that if it has to do with Makarov, there's no 'just in case.' You can mark my words that you will end up deploying. Especially when Price finds out that Konni is invading Urzikstan and Farah and Alex are on the frontline with Graves. What're you going to tell our kids when they're asking where their daddy is going, huh? What're you going to tell Baler - who looks up to you, by the way - that you're leaving for God only knows how long while, and just in case I need to remind you since you've had a hard time remembering lately, that we've been trying to have another baby. You'd rather risk leaving all of that behind for some fucker that's trying to invade a country that we don't even have anything to do with?-"

"He's trying to start another World War, Kiera, bloody fucking hell!" Simon retorted, aggravated at the fact that she was right but also felt like she was insulting his decision. "I'm doing it to protect you and our kids! Do you really want to be having to wake up every morning to the possibility of having to wear a gas mask before you even go outside because of radiation? Having to worry about your state being nuked? Have you even thought about that?" 

"I'm well aware," She rolled her eyes. "And what do you think is going to happen when our children have the risk of growing up without a father? Having to ask where their dad is while I'm possibly pregnant with our third?" 

"Kiera, with all due respect - it's not about you-" Oh, fuck. I didn't mean it like that! 

A harsh moment of silence fell between them, "I guess it's not." She frowned, moving around him to open the door to his office. 

"Where are you going?" 

"Home, Simon. I'm taking the kids with me." 

"No, I'll bring them home when I leave in an hour." 

She arched her brow with that same scary gaze, "Then I suggest you get them out of the hands of another woman and watch them like you promised me, or is that a hard thing to keep too?" 

[dollythesheepp]

Veronica - Chapter 3

You can read in on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44050953/chapters/111352018

Betty had once been in a car accident herself. She was 12 at the time, back in 1986. It hadn't been anything serious, but her mother's low inhibition thanks to her constant drinking and the slippery roads of wintry Ohio hadn't been a good combination, making their old Sedan skid off its course and hit a light pole; the incident led to 200 dollars lost at the mechanics and a cut on Betty's forehead since she wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

Her mother had felt horrible, overtaken by guilt, but that didn't stop her from drinking. After Betty's dad had left the two of them, her mother would constantly turn to a bottle of booze for comfort, until eventually, that habit killed her in 1998, leaving the then 24 year old Betty to fend for herself. Even with both of them coming out alive, Betty struggled to feel safe inside a car for months, it terrified her to think that they got lucky and that they could have been seriously hurt or died.

As she walked up the stairs to the Sawyer-Dean household, her mind brought her back to that moment and she couldn't help but wonder if Veronica felt the same way.

She reached the top of the stairs after JD, who waited for her, casually leaning on the stair newel. The second floor was not much different from the first, meaning it was equally as big and Betty would probably get lost a lot during her stay. She followed JD around, who led her to a bifurcated hallway, with three doors on one side, and two more on the other. JD pointed his head towards one of the doors and said it was his room, but instead of entering it, he went for the door next to it.

Betty had seen the elevator next to the staircase, it looked recently installed and it was hard to miss. When she entered the room, she expected to see Veronica in a wheelchair, perhaps with a few bruises, or maybe a leg or arm in a cast. But she couldn't have foreseen what she saw instead.

Nothing would have prepared her to see Veronica laying on a hospital bed. There were no casts or bruises, but she looked far from okay. She didn't move, not even when her husband leaned in to kiss her on the forehead and caress her hair. She didn't seem to notice his presence at all, or Betty's for that matter, instead she was perfectly still as a doll, not moving a finger. She was looking at the ceiling, her eyes seemed glossy and empty, the only indicators that she was alive were her chest moving up and down and her blinking every few seconds.

"Ronnie, this is Betty," JD said softly to his wife, who remained unmoving. But the way JD treated her made Betty feel a tad bit better, it was clear that he still loved her, and at least she was being well taken care of. "I told you about her, remember?"

Betty simply stood there, inches away from the bed; her chest tightened, and she found herself holding her breath, unable to react. She wasn't going to cry, was she? She didn't even know this woman. But then she remembered her conversation with JD no more than five minutes before. Veronica's daughter died and then only a few months later she gets into a car accident and ends up bedridden. How much tragedy can one family take?

Betty didn't know how much Veronica could process in her state, she didn't even know if the actual Veronica still existed. Was she even aware of what happened to her or to her child? Could she feel her husband's presence next to her? Was she still there, somewhere, listening and understanding everything but unable to communicate, tettered inside the prison that her own body became? Or was everything that she used to be, everything that made her her gone, and all that was left was the empty shell?

Betty was so lost in her own thoughts that she failed to notice the other person present in the room until JD spoke up. "Betty, this is Martha, Veronica's nurse," he said, gesturing to where the other woman was standing.

Like Jason and Veronica, Martha appeared to be in her early thirties. She was wearing white pants and a white cotton cardigan, with a lilac shirt underneath, and she had her bag on her shoulders like she was about to leave. She gave a sweet smile and shook her hand.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses on her face and unintentionally Betty copied her movements, doing the exact same thing with her own glasses.

"You too," Betty replied, reciprocating the smile the best she could. Martha seemed like a very sweet person.

"She looked tired so I thought it was best to put her to bed a little earlier," Martha said, this time talking to JD, who gave her his full attention. Betty looked at her watch, surprised to see it was past 10 p.m. "I already gave her all of her medication so she should be good for the night."

"Did she already eat?" JD asked, looking at his wife. Veronica blinked but unsurprisingly didn't give further response. Martha nodded yes with her head. "Great, thank you, Martha. See you in the morning, then."

"Bye, Mr. Dean," Martha said. Playfully, she squeezed one of Veronica's legs when she passed by her bed. "Bye, Ronnie. See you tomorrow!"

She waved goodbye to Betty and walked out of the room, closing the door gently. Then, it was just the three of them in the room and Betty had to try her hardest not to stare at the poor woman. Thankfully, JD broke the silence.

"I just remembered, I haven't shown you the office yet. Just give me a minute," he said. He turned on the table lamp beside Veronica's bed, and this time leaned in to kiss her on the cheek and whisper a soft 'goodnight, love'. Veronica's brown eyes followed him as he walked away. He opened the door, making way for Betty to exit first, turned the lights off, and left, gently closing the door after. His movements were robotic like he was used to that routine by now, and did everything automatically.

As they walked down the stairs to return to the first floor, neither of them said another word.

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

[silverdelirium]

STICKY WASHING MACHINE | D.M

summary: draco fucks scorpius’ nanny on the laundry room

warnings: breeding kink, rough sex.

———

“so do you accept?” asked draco to the girl who only stared at him with mouth slightly agape. “i-i mean i guess” she replied, not meeting his eyes.

“see you on monday then” nodded draco and turned on his heel, walking away.

y/n really didn’t know how they ended up on the topic of her being draco malfoy’s son’s nanny. it really wasn’t much work, a three year old baby just needed attention, food and sleep. but still, me out of all people? she thought, why did i even agree?

but here she was, beaming at the sight of scorpius’ new drawing which consisted on draco’s exaggerated tall figure, y/n and scorp. she sometimes felt bad that astoria was never in the picture, in every sense. she had left draco after scorpius turned 3 months old and never came back, draco explained this when they first reencountered, apparently it never really affected him. considering it was an arranged marriage.

“wow baby this is so good, i bet you’re gonna be an artist some day!” you exclaimed at him. he giggled and turned pink but a loud yawn cut his smile off. “i think it’s time for your nap, come on” she said, standing up and dusting off her skirt, scorpius holding up his arms.

y/n settled scorpius on bed and he was asleep in seconds, she chuckled and just snuggled the blanket closer to him. her eye caught a peek of scorpius’ laundry basket. sure, she was just a nanny that was supposed to take care of the child and that was it, the clothes were the elf’s work. but scorpius was terrified of them so draco took care of his clothes, y/n decided to just take his clothes to the laundry room and throw them inside the washing machine.

as y/n made her way to the laundry room, draco came through the fireplace that was at the whole other wing of the manor, making y/n unconscious of his presence.

draco gave a big sigh and immediately entered the kitchen for a glass of wine, opening up the cabinet that had one of the bottles opened already, courtesy of draco’s previous stress.

he knew scorpius must be asleep, taking notice of the silence that resonated through the manor’s atmosphere. in his midst of thinking, a few drops spilled from the rim his cup when he inclined it too harshly, making them spill on his white shirt. draco gave a groan at this and threw his head back.

narcissa always told draco that it was better to immediately wash clothing items if he ever spilled something on them. so he grumpily made his way to the laundry room.

as he got closer he could hear shuffling of clothes and a low humming, eventually stopping at the doorway to catch sight of y/n bent over, placing small clothing items into the washing machine. he went wide eyed at the peak he caught of her lace pink panties, cunt perfectly outlined.

draco was frustrated, sexually more than ever. he always found y/n hot, even in hogwarts, he remembers having a huge crush on her during fourth and fifth year, but they never really talked except for the polite hello’s and brief conversation when they were partnered in class.

right now, all the past emotions were coming back. and he wanted nothing more than to fuck her like he never did to a woman before. for hours and hours until she turned into nothing but a blabbering mess.

y/n eventually straightened up and went to pick more clothes, but she was met with a paralized draco on the doorframe.

“oh- hello draco, i didn’t know you were back” she saluted politely, going back to scorpius small basket that was placed on top of the dryer.

draco was snapped out of his trance at her voice, he swallowed hard before responding, “evening, just came to- uh put this in the washing machine” he gestured to his shirt, making her look at his chest but eventually trailing down to his very apparent bulge.

he saw how her eyes went wide but she said nothing and just gulped and nodded, gaze not meeting his.

the laundry room really wasn’t that big, making it hard for draco to pass y/n to go to the washing machine that was placed next to the dryer. but he still came in contact with her. his clothed cock pressing perfectly into her ass, a small gasp escaping her while draco grunted at the friction.

they both stilled.

y/n was the first to turn around, groin now pressing into her front, he was breathing heavily. and like magnets they connected together, tongues exploring each other’s mouth. draco’s hands rubbing her ass, down until the back of her thighs were in his large hands. he tapped them lightly, signaling her to jump, which she obliged instantly and jumped, draco hoisting her onto the washing machine.

he disconnected their lips to travel down to her neck, a small whine escaping her when he found her sweet spot. draco absolutely devouring the skin and littering it with purple hickeys. he eventually pulled away to take a good look at his little piece of art.

y/n brought him back into a heated kiss while unbuttoning his shirt, his own hands finding way to the hem of hers. once he shrugged off his shirt he helped her pull hers off, throwing it onto the floor. he pulled away from the kiss once again to look at her soft mounds that sat perfectly in a bra, he groaned at the sight as his cock twitched on his trousers.

“can i take this off sweet thing?” he asked, tone low as he hooked a finger on the bra strap.

y/n eagerly nodded, draco wasting no time and unclasping the bra in a quick motion, disregarding it to the side, mouth immediately attaching to her nipple while his hand toyed with the other. she gave a moan at this breathing heavily and leaning back on her palms, panties soaked and pussy throbbing.

draco kissed his way down to her stomach, dragging her skirt down until it hit the floor. he stepped back and admired with pure mesmerization at y/n’s form, tits with perked up nipples, dampened panties and breathing hard. “look at my pretty princess” he said, unbuckling his belt and lowering his pants low enough so his dick popped out.

she went wide eyed for the second time that evening at his size. draco was much bigger than anyone she had ever been with and he was just a very big person in general, she wasn’t sure she could take him all.

draco stroked his cock up and down slowly, tip red and leaking with pre-cum. he got closer to her and moved her panties to the side, eyes glinting when he saw her bare cunt, dripping.

“so wet baby” he said as he passed two fingers over her folds, y/n shuddering while he brought them up to his mouth and hummed at the taste, watching her face heat up.

“taste so good too” he growled, inching his face closer to her and leaning their foreheads together while his fingers plummeted themselves slowly into her, a loud moan escaping her lips.

he started moving them at a slow pace, almost torturous. watching intently as she released small whimpers and moans, his cock twitching every now and then.

he started scissoring his fingers inside of her, going faster. “ah! yes draco right there” she moaned out when he curled his fingers, touching that spongy spot inside her. “yeah? think you can take my cock now?” he questioned.

“yes” she replied quickly, pussy clenching at the thought of having him inside her, finally.

he seemed to notice this and chuckled, removing his fingers and dragging them to his cock once again, coating it with her juices. he guided it to her entrance and drenched the tip with her arousal, making y/n buck her hips up and whine.

“sh sh sh, now be patient little girl” he warned, fingers lightly tapping her clit, making her jolt and quickly shut up as she waited in anticipation.

draco entered y/n slowly with a groan, a strangled moan leaving her throat. he let her adjust to his size for a few moments before starting out on a decently fast pace, making her throw your head back and release several moans the faster he went, breasts bouncing everywhere, much to draco’s delight.

he settled for a brutal pace that had the washing machine shaking, watching her eyes go crisscross when he reaches to rub her clit.

“fuck baby look at this pretty pussy squeezing me, so fucking tight” he groaned, looking down at her juices dripping out, thighs glistening. “you have no idea how many times i’ve dreamt about this” he said, voice strained. she hummed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down to another steamy kiss, he greedily ate every moan she made, her legs starting to tremble.

“fuck baby im close” he said when she pulled away for breath. “me too!” she replied, his thumb assaulting her clit harsher.

“yeah? gonna cum all over me? and then let me put my fucking cum inside you until your fucking pregnant?” he teased, moving his hands to grip her ass, y/n gave a loud moan in response and rapidly nodded, orgasm right at its peak. “fuckfuckfuck yes draco!” she screamed as she came, legs completely shaking and letting that coil snap while he fucked her faster, riding out her high while chasing his.

“shit, gonna cum so hard inside you and give you my kids princess” he groaned, his thrust sloppy when his orgasm hit him, releasing a loud moan as he came.

after they both calmed down from their highs he sighed in pleasure and looked down to her puffy cunt, he pulled out slowly and watched as her pussy spurted out both cums. he collected some on his fingers and held them up to y/n.

she opened her mouth and kept eye contact as she sucked on them, humming at the taste like he had done previously, making his once soft cock perk up immediately. she was gonna be the death of him.

she giggled at his reaction and got off the, now sticky washing machine due to their arousal on it, leaning her top half over it and arching her back. draco’s mouth agape at the view.

“round 2?” she taunted.

but right as draco was about to fuck her into tomorrow, a small paddle of feet could be heard in the distance with a faint “daddy? y/n?”.

———

part two

🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @helleli @metaraxia @daddybutmakeitagirl @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Remember to Forget Me | S.R

My gif

This is for this build a blurb requested by @andiebeaword which got way out of hand. Ending is happy but slightly ambiguous.

Fic title taken from a Blink-182 song.

**There will categorically not be a part two for this so please don’t ask.**

📱Finding something on their phone you shouldn’t have

🤔Amnesia

⚠️Love Triangle

🤰🏼Pregnancy

👂🏻Overheard something they shouldn’t

Summary - decision making has never been your forte so deciding between the two men you were dating was an impossible feat. Until a car crash changes everything and even if your brain doesn’t remember, your heart certainly does.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader (some Luke Alvez / Fem! Reader)

Category - angst with a fluffy ending.

Content Warnings - some Luke x reader but it will have a Spencer x reader happy ending, angst, love triangle, vague mentions of sex but still SFW, swearing, typical CM related case stuff, mentions of car accidents, minor description of injuries, pregnancy, panic attacks, brief mention of prison and PTSS, anxiety, depressive thoughts, brief mentions of Maeve, amnesia, very brief mention of dilaudid.

Word Count - 12.4K

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If indecisiveness was a virtue, you’d give Aristotle a run for his money. 

Decision making had never been a strong suit of yours, ever since you were a small child and could never decide what toy you wanted to play with or what you wanted to eat for dinner. 

Your mother always said, “the risk of a wrong decision is preferable to the terror of indecision.”

You would vehemently disagree. You would much rather not make a decision than make the wrong one. At least in your indecision you didn’t risk completely ruining things. A wrong decision was unthinkable. 

Your hesitancy to make decisions had never been much of an issue thus far in your life. Sure, sometimes it meant you would go without your morning coffee when Starbucks added a new menu item and you couldn’t decide between that and your old faithful. 

Sometimes it would mean you wouldn’t end up watching TV after work because you couldn’t decide between a movie or binge watching a series. 

And maybe there had been a few occasions you’d flaked on drinks with your friends because you simply couldn’t pick an outfit to wear. 

But for the most part, your favour for sitting on the fence has never been detrimental to your life. 

Until it came to dating. 

Settling down with one person was the ultimate decision, one which terrified you. Surely when it came to the man you would spend the rest of your life with, your mothers sentiment couldn’t possibly be true. 

The wrong decision of whom you’d spend the rest of your life with was certainly not preferable to not making a decision at all. 

Wouldn’t it simply be easier to be alone than to choose the wrong person? 

As such, monogamy was a hard concept for you. You were not known as a one man kind of woman. 

You always made your intentions clear with whoever you were dating, they weren’t always going to be the only man in your life and if they couldn’t handle that then you weren’t the woman for them. 

For the past six months or so you had two men in your life, both who brought very different things to the table and who you cared for deeply in different ways. 

They were so different they might as well be chalk and cheese and you would implore anyone to choose between them. 

You met Luke Alvez at the dog park when you were walking your three year old Siberian husky Duke. 

During a game of fetch, Duke had brought back much more than his chew toy. 

You barely had a chance to register Duke and his new friend, a beautiful Belgian Shepherd, heading towards you because you were more entranced by another beautiful creature. 

He was fresh from a run, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and soaking the fabric of his t-shirt. 

He looked like an honest to god mirage as he jogged towards you, chasing down his errant dog. 

Luke was not only incredibly easy on the eyes, he was gentlemanly, he brought you coffee while the two of you watched your dogs tumbling in the grass together. 

He was also strong and assertive, taking control of things which you sorely needed when you were so indecisive. 

In the bedroom, Luke was firm yet soft, caring with just enough roughness. 

He was sharp angles, muscular and deliriously gorgeous. To top it all off, Duke and Roxy had become the best of friends. 

And you could have been really happy with Luke, maybe he could have been the man you would consider settling down for. 

If a few weeks later you hadn’t met Spencer Reid. 

To say Spencer was the opposite of Luke in every single way was an understatement. 

Whereas Luke could be best described as gorgeous, Spencer was pretty. He had the prettiest eyes and smile you’d ever seen, almost knocking you for six the first time you’d met him. 

You’d been in a local bookstore, a stack of books in your arms so high you could barely see over them because of course you couldn’t decide what to buy so you were buying everything. 

It had been inevitable that you would bump into someone, and you had, your pile of books crashing down to the floor. 

You bent down to retrieve them and when you looked up someone was crouched in front of you, helping you gather them up.

Those hazel eyes and lop-sided smile as he handed you some books almost melted you on the spot. 

As he handed you the copy of Alice in Wonderland, he started telling you facts about Lewis Carroll, aka Charles Lutwidge Dodgson and his affinity for photography before he became an author. 

You hung off his every word, he sounded so sure of himself as he spoke. You would come to learn Spencer was only ever sure of himself when reciting facts and usually he was much less confident. 

He invited you for coffee in the bookstore cafe which you had eagerly accepted. 

For all intents and purposes, Spencer Reid was marriage material. 

He was without a doubt the kindest man you’d ever met, although he wasn’t without his share of darkness. He told you all about his time spent in prison for a crime he didn’t commit and how it had changed him to the point he sometimes didn’t recognise himself. 

But he was still incredibly kind and sweet, often sending you flowers or showing up with coffee just because he was thinking about you. 

And the sex was equally as mind blowing with Spencer as it was with Luke, just in different ways. 

Whereas you and Luke’s bedroom activities were somewhat animalistic, with Spencer it was slow, sensual and often went on for hours. 

You cared deeply for both men. But you’d always shied away from decision making so why start now? 

You weren’t hurting anyone. You made sure both Luke and Spencer were aware you were seeing someone else, that you weren’t solely dating them. 

They’d both been ok with it, at least they’d told you they were. 

But really, both men wanted more from you. Only neither of them wanted to risk losing you over forcing you to make a decision. 

Turns out they were a lot more alike than you thought. 

***

Spencer stifled a yawn as he exited the elevator, running his hands through his messy hair to try and tame it. 

He hoped it wasn’t noticeable that he was still wearing yesterday's clothes, trying to cover it with a cardigan from his go bag. 

He’d fully intended to go back to his apartment after dinner with you last night. But when you’d started kissing him on the sidewalk outside the restaurant and inviting him back to your place, he would have been an idiot to decline such an offer. 

Spencer was utterly smitten with you. He’d known from the start that you were seeing someone else and he tried to be ok with that. 

But the truth was, Spencer was falling in love with you and he knew it was going to end badly for him. He knew he should probably walk away before he got his heart broken. 

But you were a hard woman to give up. 

He strolled into the round table room where the rest of the team was already gathered, giving Emily an apologetic look for his tardiness. 

He’d told you he didn’t have time for that shower quicky this morning, but you’d been persistent. 

He set his satchel on the floor and slid into the chair, not noticing the eyes on him. 

“Everyone else is seeing this right?” Matt spoke up.

“The fact that the kid is wearing yesterday's clothes? Oh yeah, I see it.” Rossi chuckled, causing Spencer’s cheeks to flush red. 

“Is that a hickey?” Luke laughed, pointing at Spencer’s neck and Spencer slapped his hand away. 

“It most certainly is not.” He pulled his shirt collar up to cover his neck and the definite hickey you’d left on him. 

“Fun night, Reid?” Emily smirked at him.

“Can we…can we please just…the case, Garcia?” Spencer shrunk down in his chair. 

“Don’t sweat it.” Luke patted his back. “You should see the marks my girl leaves on me.” 

This only caused Spencer’s blush to deepen.

You were aware both the men you were seeing worked for the FBI but you had no idea they worked together. 

And Spencer and Luke also didn’t know the woman they were seeing was one in the same. 

Conveniently neither men had actually ever mentioned the name of the woman they were seeing. For almost six months it had never come to light that they were competing for the same woman’s affections. 

“Ok, that’s where I draw the line. My beautiful, fragile ears do not need to be tainted by talk of newbie’s sex life.” Garcia stepped in and Spencer was extremely thankful for the spotlight to be off of him. 

Garcia presented the case, a local one to which the whole team was pleased. 

Spencer’s attention waned in and out, subconsciously running his fingers over the hickey that felt like it was burning his skin. 

“What are you doing?” He chuckled as you sucked on his neck. 

“Marking you.” You moaned against his salty skin. 

“F-fuck, Y/N.” His toes curled at the sensation. “If my team sees that I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You don’t want them to know you’re getting some good loving?” You giggled, continuing to suck on his flesh. 

When your hand moved down his body towards his shaft, Spencer’s protests died somewhere in his throat. 

“Reid? Did you hear me?”

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Emily’s voice. 

“Huh?” He blinked a few times. 

“You and Alvez are going to the crime scene.” She repeated. 

“Oh yeah. Sure.” He chewed on his lip. 

Luke laughed and nudged Spencer in the arm as he got up from the chair. 

“She’s got you whipped.” The other man chuckled. 

“Oh like you’re so much better.” Spencer scoffed. 

“It’s true, I got it bad.” Luke admitted as the two men headed across the bullpen. “Only problem is, she’s not the commitment type.” 

Spencer frowned a little as he followed Luke towards the elevators. 

“I have the same problem. She’s seeing this other guy. I don’t know anything about him but I feel like I have to constantly compete with this stranger.” 

“I hear you.” Luke sighed as they stepped inside and he jabbed the button for the ground floor. “But trust me when I say man, anyone competing with Spencer Reid will surely lose.” 

Spencer smiled softly at Luke as the elevator started its descent. 

“I hope you’re right. She’s…perfect.” 

They fell into silence after that as the elevator took them to the parking lot, both lost in thoughts about the same woman.

***

Two days later two more bodies had shown up. 

Luke and Spencer felt like it was Groundhog Day as they drove across town towards another crime scene. 

Luke had a stupid smile on his face, one Spencer knew to mean he’d gotten laid last night. 

He didn’t want to pry, but the drive was long as they sat in traffic so he couldn’t help himself but ask.

“I’m assuming by the stupid look on your face that you were with your girlfriend last night?” 

“Not my girlfriend. She’s very strict on that.” He chuckled but Spencer heard the sadness in his voice. “But yeah I was.” 

“What did you get up to?” Spencer asked innocently but the second he saw Luke’s cheeks redden, he regretted his question. 

“Oh…you know.” Luke hummed. 

“Oh. Oh.” Spencer swallowed, turning his attention out the window. “Cool. Awesome. Cool.” 

“Because you don’t spend as much time as humanly possible between the sheets with your girl?” Luke laughed. 

“No comment.”

“What are you, twelve years old?” Luke reached over and slapped him on the arm. “Your hickey the other day speaks volumes anyway, man.”

“She’s…feisty.” Spencer confessed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so much sex in my life.”

“Good for you.” Luke smiled, happy for his friend. “I can’t wait to meet her.” 

“I…don’t think she’d be up for that. It’s strictly casual.” 

“Understood.” Luke nodded and after that the conversation filtered out. 

They arrived at the crime scene and as expected it was a near carbon copy of the others. This was definitely the same unsub. 

“I find it hard to believe with the level of sophistication this unsub is displaying that these kills are his first.” Spencer mused as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves. 

“Agreed. We should call Garcia and have her look into unsolved homicides with similar MO’s.” Luke patted his pockets for his phone but came up empty. “Shoot, my phone must be back in the SUV.” 

“Use mine.” Spencer fished his phone out his slacks pocket and handed the old device over to Luke. 

“Thanks man.” Luke looked down at the screen as Spencer went about inspecting the corpse.

An outgoing text message was already open on the screen, time stamped around an hour ago before they’d left Quantico. 

📲 Y/N Y/L/N: Hey, so I was wondering if you were free tonight and fancied doing something? All being well I shouldn’t be done with work too late. Let me know. Spencer.

Luke’s blood froze in his veins, hyper focused on the name the message was sent to. 

It couldn’t be, could it? Surely there was no way he and Spencer were seeing the same woman? 

It only occurred to him then that he actually didn’t know anything about the woman Spencer was seeing, not even her name. 

He knew you were seeing another guy, but again he didn’t know anything about him. 

Was it possible that the same woman who had left the hickey on Spencer’s neck was the same one who left scratch marks on Luke’s chest? 

“You ok?” Spencer glanced up at Luke from where he was crouched on the floor. 

“Uh yeah sorry.” Luke shook his head. “Don’t know how to use this ancient piece of junk.” 

Luke quit Spencer's messages and found Garcia’s number, distracting himself on work rather than focusing on his discovery.

***

You sighed as you contemplated your evening plans. Spencer had texted you that morning asking if you wanted to do something tonight and a few hours later Luke had texted you too. 

Decisions were not your forte. 

If you were honest with yourself, you knew which man you liked more deep down. 

Luke was amazing but there was just something about Spencer that captivated you. 

But that also scared you. Because Spencer Reid was the kind of man you could easily fall in love with, settle down with, but that’s not what you wanted, right? 

Your heart yearned for Spencer whereas with Luke it was more physical. 

But you had seen Luke last night, so it was only fair you saw Spencer tonight. And he had been the first to text you. 

You quickly shot off messages to both men before you could change your mind. 

See, you could make a decision every once in a while. 

📲 Spencer Reid: Sure Doc, what did you have in mind? ;) 

📲 Luke Alvez: Missing me already? I’d love to but I already have plans. Rain check? :)

***

Luke and Spencer’s phones went off alerting them to text messages almost simultaneously. 

Luke was driving back from the crime scene so he wasn’t able to check his phone. Spencer on the other hand moved so fast he made himself dizzy. 

He couldn’t stop the stupid smile that spread to his lips when he saw your reply. 

“Got a date?” Luke half-smiled at him, seeing the goofy expression on his friend's face. 

“Uh yeah.” Spencer blushed, tapping a reply before putting his phone away. 

Luke tried to hide his disappointment. If they really were seeing the same woman then he knew his message wasn’t going to put a smile on his face. 

He wasn’t sure why he was reluctant to tell Spencer. They could talk about it and clear things up, because there was no way they were dating the same woman. It had to be a coincidence.

But if it wasn’t a coincidence, Luke wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He didn’t want to burst the bubble. He already knew you were seeing someone else, did it really matter if that someone was Spencer? 

On second thoughts, yes that did matter. And he really didn’t want to know if he and the good doctor had been sleeping with the same woman. 

He’d rather live in blissful ignorance. 

***

You hated the way your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the messy haired genius as he made his way through the crowds in the bar towards you. 

He was just so damn pretty, you really couldn’t be blamed for the way you melted at just one glimpse of him. 

He wore a signature Spencer outfit, black slacks, scuffed converse and a navy shirt but had forgone his usual tie and cardigan. 

He was a little out of breath when he reached you, plopping down into the booth next to you, panting slightly. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” He smiled apologetically at you. 

“It’s ok, you’re worth waiting for.” You hooked your hand around the back of his neck and drew his lips to yours.

He visibly relaxed at your kiss, allowing himself to calm down now he was here, in your presence. 

He cupped your face as you parted your lips to deepen the kiss. 

No matter how many times he kissed you, Spencer would never get over the butterflies it induced. 

When you pulled back you were smiling at him and you stroked an errant curl back off his face. 

“I got you a soda.” You nodded to the table where his glass of soda sat next to your wine. 

“Thank you.” He placed one hand on your thigh under the table and used the other to take a sip of his drink. 

“How’s work?” 

“Same old. You know I don’t like talking to you about that stuff. It’s…pretty gruesome.” 

“I’m not a child.” You pouted a little and Spencer’s eyes were immediately drawn to your lips. 

“You most certainly are not.” He put his drink down and cupped your cheek again. “Why are we wasting time here?”

You smirked at him and leant in closer to him. 

“You want to get me alone, Doctor?” 

“More than anything in the world.” He smirked back. 

“Let’s get out of here then.” You gave him a quick peck before shuffling out of the booth. 

You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along with you towards the exit of the bar.

***

Your plans to get Spencer to the bedroom as quickly as possible were thwarted by your overly excited dog. 

Duke was instantly jumping all over the both of you, covering you in slobbery dog kisses.

“Ok, ok boy, down.” You laughed, patting his head. “I don’t think Spencer enjoys it as much as I do.” 

“I don’t mind.” Spencer tried to insist, despite the fact he knew about every single one of the bacteria that lived on dogs tongues.

He’d do just about anything for you, for you to see he was the one and only man you should be with. 

Even if it meant catching a nasty disease from your dog.

Spencer spent a little time petting Duke much to the mutt's enjoyment. But before long you were pulling him away from the dog. 

“Did you come here to pet my dog or can I interest you in pussy instead?” 

Spencer hissed through his teeth, a shudder passing up his spine as he turned his back on Duke. 

He dropped his satchel on the floor before wrapping his arms around you. 

“I’ve always been more of a cat man.” He teased as he pressed his lips against yours. 

You dragged him towards the bedroom while he deepened the kiss. 

Clothes were shed on route, littering your apartment and by the time you reached the bed you were both naked. 

The two of you spent all night until the early hours of the morning fumbling between the sheets. 

And when you eventually fell asleep wrapped in Spencer’s arms you knew you could be happy this way for the rest of your life. 

But in order to do that, you’d have to first end things with Luke. 

And that wasn’t something you were ready to make a decision on. 

***

“What does this other guy have that I don’t?”

You looked up from your book at him, a slight frown on your face. 

The dogs were curled up together asleep on the floor and you were on the couch with your feet on his lap. 

“Huh?” You closed your book.

“This other guy you’re seeing. What does he have that I don’t?” Luke questioned you. 

It had been a week or so since he’d seen the text on Spencer’s phone and he’d grown more paranoid with each passing day. 

Only he couldn’t bring himself to actually ask you or Spencer about it. 

“Don’t start that.” You shook your head. 

“Start what?” 

“That’s the kind of prelude to asking me to choose between you. And I won’t do it.” 

“What’s he like? Just tell me about him.” Luke reached for you and pulled you closer until you were straddling in his lap. 

“No way. What kind of foreplay is that?” You chuckled as he ran his hands up and down your sides.

“Humour me?”

“Nuh uh. I don’t kiss and tell, Alvez.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“What’s his name?” Luke started kissing down your neck to try and loosen you up. 

“His name? Oh it’s noneofyourbusiness.” 

“You’re cruel.” He spoke against your skin. 

“Luke,” you stilled him, cupping his jaw and guiding him to look at you. “Stop this, please? Can we not just enjoy the time we spend together?”

“I hate the idea of you with someone else.” He confessed. 

It wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought to. He didn’t let himself dwell on the fact you were dating someone else. 

Until he found out who that someone was. 

Every time he looked at you or Spencer he couldn’t help but think of the two of you together. Was Spencer a better kisser than him? Was Spencer better in bed than he was? 

It was sending Luke spiralling down a rabbit a hole. Yes he hated the idea of you with someone else but more specifically, he hated the idea of you with him. 

You sighed and slid off Luke's lap and onto your feet.

“You knew the deal when we started seeing each other. I’m indecisive. I want to have my cake and eat it too. I made it perfectly clear when we met that I’m not a one man kind of girl, Luke. If you can’t handle that then…”

Luke stood too and quickly took hold of your hands. 

“I can handle it.” He said even though he wasn’t sure he could. 

He didn’t want to share you with Spencer. But he also didn’t want to lose you.

“Are you sure? I’m not going to magically wake up one day and decide I’m all in, Luke. I’m not going to change.”

“I know. And I’m sure.” He smiled at you but you didn’t believe him. 

But he knew the situation and he was a grown man. If he wanted to pretend he was ok with this you weren’t going to argue with him. 

You just hoped it didn’t come back to bite you in the ass. 

You allowed Luke to kiss you and your thoughts melted away as he started leading you towards the bedroom. 

God how you loved the way he made you feel. But why were you thinking of Spencer? 

***

A few weeks later Luke was still keeping his findings on Spencer’s phone to himself. He tried to push it to the back of his mind as best as he could but he couldn’t help but feel as though he was competing with the younger man. 

Whilst Spencer probably had no idea. 

Luke knew Spencer was with you last night because of the new set of hickeys on his neck and the dumb smile on his face. 

Luke liked you a lot, more than a lot, but he didn’t know it was enough to have to deal with this. 

Spencer was blissfully ignorant to the whole thing, so caught up in the way he felt about you that he was in his own little bubble. 

But bubbles have a tendency to pop. 

He was heading down the corridor to go and check with Garcia on a case they were working when he heard voices around the corner. 

Spencer was not one for eavesdropping, he minded his own business and left people to theirs. 

But for some reason he found himself slowing and soon he was at a complete standstill, just out of sight from the voices. 

“I want to take her away from the weekend but I don’t know if she’d be up for it.” Luke’s voice carried to Spencer’s ears. 

“Trust me, Alvez, a woman wouldn’t turn her nose up at a weekend away.” Tara laughed. 

“My friend has this great little cabin out near Roanoke. The dogs would love it up there. And you know…I’m sure we would too.” 

“Oh she has a dog too?” 

“Yeah, a Siberian husky called Duke. He adores Roxy.” 

“Duke and Luke? That’s cute.” Tara chuckled again. 

Spencer fell back against the wall, the rest of the conversation fading away. 

A Siberian husky called Duke. 

Could it possibly be the same Siberian husky called Duke that Spencer allowed to cover him in saliva every time he went to your place? 

Surely it couldn’t be the same Siberian husky called Duke that had laid his head in Spencer’s lap while he read on your couch? The one that Spencer had walked with you on multiple occasions? 

Surely life wasn’t so cruel for Luke to be the man he was competing for your affections over? 

There was no possible outcome where anyone in their right mind would favour geeky Spencer Reid over strong and handsome Luke Alvez. 

Spencer was fucked. There was no way this would end well for him. Luke was twice the man he’d ever be. 

He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his palms. 

All the times he and Luke had discussed you and he’d had no idea you were talking about the same woman. 

Did Luke know? Was Spencer just some kind of joke to the two of you? 

Before he could spiral down into his detrimental thoughts, he heard footsteps coming his way. 

He quickly pushed himself away from the wall and started back down the corridor before Luke and Tara saw him. 

But he was left reeling. 

He couldn’t help picture Luke’s hands all over you, kissing you and rolling between your sheets. 

Luke was everything Spencer wasn’t and Spencer was sure now it was inevitable he was going to get his heart broken. 

What was he going to do? Did he confront Luke? Confront you? Or did he just sit idly by and wait for you to leave him because Luke was better than him in every way? 

Of all the women in DC, how was it possible you’d both found the same one? 

Spencer had a difficult decision on his hands. Usually he was pretty good at split second thinking, he had to be in his line of work. 

But like you, Spencer found himself shrinking away from making a choice. Because surely any choice he made would end in heartbreak? 

*** 

Subconsciously or not, he wasn’t sure, but Spencer started distancing himself from both you and Luke. 

Every time you text him he would reply that he was busy with work and couldn’t see you. 

It killed him to do so and he knew he was only digging his own grave. The less time you spent with Spencer meant more time for you to spend with Luke.

More time for you to fall in love with Luke and not Spencer. 

Really he should have been spending as much time with you as possible, monopolising your time so you didn’t even have a chance to think about Luke. 

But Spencer didn’t think that would work. He remembered Luke saying to him once, “anyone competing with Spencer Reid will surely lose.”

Maybe anyone who isn’t Luke Alvez. 

Spencer was undoubtedly in love with you and he knew how dumb that was. You’d always made it clear you weren’t looking to settle down and that you weren’t the monogamous type. Spencer knew this. But it didn’t stop him falling for you. 

He knew that made him an idiot but he couldn’t help himself, it had happened without his knowledge for the most part. 

After another few weeks he noticed Luke’s demeanour changed drastically one day. And it was so unfair that Spencer’s first hope was that it was because of you. 

He didn’t want to see his friend upset and heartbroken, of course not. But if the two of you were over, maybe Spencer stood a chance? 

He hated thinking that way. Luke was his friend and their friendship was more important than any woman. 

Right? 

Right?

If that were so, why did an overwhelming sense of joy run through Spencer’s veins when he heard Luke telling Matt, “my girl dumped me.” 

Spencer felt terrible for the contentedness he felt hearing those words. He spent all day wondering if he should call you. 

Even once he was home he stared at the device like it was taunting him. 

Should he call you? 

Weirdly, just as he had this thought, his phone started ringing. 

The number flashing on the screen wasn’t one he knew and he frowned slightly and pushed himself up from the couch as he placed the device to his ear. 

“Hello?” 

“Uh…Spencer?” A female voice, not one he recognised. 

“Who is this?” He started pacing. 

A stretch of silence met his waiting ears and the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention.

He’d been an FBI agent long enough to know when he should be afraid of silence. 

“My name is Lauren. I uh…got your number from my friend's phone.” 

“Friend?” Spencer stopped by the window and glanced down at the street, his eyes quickly taking in the surrounding area. 

Should he be scared? 

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Spencer’s footing faltered, stumbling away from the window slightly as her words engulfed him. 

Yes, he should be scared. But not for the reasons he thought. 

“What’s going on? Is she ok?” Panic ripped through his body, coursing up and down his veins and spreading like wildfire. 

His chest tightened, causing his breathing to grow ragged as he started pacing again, unable to keep still. 

“She was in an accident. Her car was side swiped by a truck. She’s in surgery. When they retrieved her phone, your contact information was on the screen like she planned to call you. And she talks about you…a lot. I thought maybe she’d…want you here or…” Lauren trailed off as a small sob left her lips, catapulting it’s way to Spencer’s ears. 

Spencer froze in his pacing, letting her words wash over him and sink into his pores. 

He immediately felt tears trying to push their way from his eyes but he couldn’t cry. Not now. There would be time for that later. 

Now he needed to focus. 

Action first. Breakdowns later. 

“Where is she?” He kept his voice levelled, hoping to calm the woman on the phone. 

“G-George Washington University H-Hospital.” She choked out. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Spencer informed her before hanging up the phone. 

***

The drive to the hospital was a blur and Spencer didn’t think he would have possibly been able to drive if it wasn’t for his years on the job. 

He focused on his training. Stay calm. Keep breathing. Focus on the bigger picture. 

Never let emotions get in the way. 

He had to tuck away all the things he was feeling. He couldn’t dwell on the things Lauren had told him. 

You talked about him. A lot. You were going to call him. Why? 

It had been weeks since he’d last see you. Why were you going to call? Did you miss him? He certainly missed you. 

Would he ever get a chance to find out? 

In the waiting area of the trauma surgery wing of the hospital, he spotted a terrified looking woman around your age he assumed to be your friend Lauren. 

He cautiously approached her, she was staring at the tiled floor and he didn’t want to startle her. 

He’d dreamed of you introducing him to his friends but he never expected it to be under such circumstances. 

He stopped in front of the girl and cast her in his shadow which caused her to glance up. 

Her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks streaked with tears. She blinked a few times as if trying to focus. 

“Spencer?” She swallowed, her voice low and croaky. 

He nodded stiffly, hands planted firmly in his pockets. 

“You must be Lauren.” He chewed on his bottom lip. 

“Thank you for coming. You’re just like she described.” She shot him a shaky smile. 

Spencer felt his cheeks burn. 

You’d described him? You talked about him. Was that why you’d broken up with Luke…?

…Luke. 

Shit. 

Luke would want to know you were here. Spencer couldn’t in good conscience keep this from him. 

“Excuse me a moment, I need to make a call.” He smiled softly at Lauren before turning away and going to find a quiet place to call his friend. 

***

Luke had a lot of questions which Spencer expertly deflected over the phone. 

There would be time to explain everything later. 

By the time Luke arrived at the hospital you were out of surgery and still unconscious. 

Spencer slumped in the worn leather chair in the room, vigil at your bedside while Lauren went to your apartment to get you some clothes and other bits. 

Spencer ghosted his fingers over your cold skin, tracing from your knuckles to your biceps, skirting around the needle from the IV. 

Your face was littered with cuts and bruises. You’d suffered a head trauma and superficial wounds but other than that you were relatively intact. 

Spencer wished that offered him comfort. But the head trauma could mean you never woke up and if you did you might never be the same again. 

He’d do anything for you to open your eyes again. He’d make a deal with the devil if he had to. He’d go back to prison if it somehow meant you’d be ok. 

Time passed by steadily. He counted your shallow breaths, eyes flicking between you and the heart monitor. 

He wished there was something he could do. He felt utterly powerless just sitting idly by as you fought for your life. He felt about as useful as the chair holding up his exhausted body. 

The door tentatively opened and heavy boots on the floor alerted Spencer to his company. 

Luke stepped inside the room, bringing with him the brief noise wafting in behind from outside the silent room. 

The door closed and the quiet returned just as quickly as it had left. 

Luke kept his eyes on you as he padded around to the chair opposite Spencer. Spencer observed him carefully. 

He’d been crying, he could tell in the way his eyes were bloodshot. Was Spencer supposed to be crying? Wasn’t that a reasonable reaction in this situation? 

But crying wasn’t going to help. Crying wouldn’t get you to wake up. It wouldn’t prevent any damage that had been done to your brain. 

Luke spent a while looking over your battered body, rubbing his fingers up and down your arm like Spencer had been doing moments before. 

When he finally glanced up, Spencer was already looking right at him. 

“Is she going to be ok?” His voice sounded as though he’d just be awoken from a long sleep. 

Spencer’s body heaved with the weight of the sigh he exuded.

“I don’t honestly know.” 

Luke’s eyes instantly glazed over with tears again. 

“How did you know about us?” Luke sniffed them back. 

“I uh…heard you talking to Lewis a while ago about a Siberian husky called Duke. I wanted it to be a coincidence but I knew it wasn’t.” Spencer barely recognised the sound leaving his lips as his own voice. “And I’m going to assume by the fact you weren’t surprised I was here that you knew about us too.” 

“Remember a while back when I used your phone to call Garcia? You’d left a message from her open on your screen.” Luke swallowed, lounging back in the chair.

“You’ve known that long?” Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Luke ran his hand over his jaw, the stubble growing there rough against his finger tips. 

“I don’t know.” He sighed as he spoke. “I guess I was scared. I meant it when I said anyone competing against Spencer Reid would lose. And I did.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.” Spencer was quick to counter. 

“She dumped me for another guy. You can’t tell me that wasn’t you.” Luke looked and sounded heart broken and it made Spencer feel guilty for some unknown reason. 

If he’d known from the start it was Luke you were seeing, would it have made a difference? Would Spencer have taken a step back, bowed out before he’d gotten in this deep? 

He had no way to know. 

“I have no idea Luke. I haven’t seen her in weeks so I really don’t think it was me she was talking about. The truth is, we don’t know how many guys she was seeing.” Spencer felt his chest constrict at the sheer thought. 

How many guys were there? 

Before Luke could respond, not that he had anything to say, the door opened and closed again revealing a slightly disheveled looking woman. 

She smiled softly at Spencer before her brows creased as she took Luke in. 

She looked him up and down a few times before the frown faded. 

“Luke?” The woman croaked.

“Uh…yeah?” Luke looked between Spencer and the woman. 

“I’m Lauren, Y/N’s best friend. She told me about both of you.” Lauren shrugged. 

Ever the gentleman, Spencer quickly hauled himself up from his chair to allow Lauren to sit with her friend. 

She nodded a small thanks before sliding into it. 

Spencer awkwardly retreated to the corner of the room, feeling every bit as uncomfortable as the situation called for. 

“I spoke to the doctor.” Lauren placed her hand on top of yours and kept her eyes on you. “He doesn’t know if or when she’ll wake up. He also doesn’t know what state she’ll be in if she does wake up. It doesn’t bode well for the baby.” 

Spencer and Luke’s eyes caught each other in an instant. 

Both men’s faces paled, turning them both white as sheets. 

They subconsciously questioned each other. 

Did you know?

Who’s is it? 

Who’s going to ask?

Luke seemed to lose the unspoken battle and with a sigh he looked away from Spencer to Lauren. 

“Uh…did you say baby?” 

Lauren looked up at Luke and then Spencer. Both men had matching confused expressions.

“She didn’t…she didn’t tell you?” Lauren’s eyes were wider than Spencer thought was even possible. “Well shit.” 

“Which one of us was she supposed to tell?” Luke spoke again, his voice much more even than Spencer would assume his own would be. 

“I…I don’t know.” Lauren sighed, reaching to stroke your cheek softly. “She was ten weeks. She had a noninvasive prenatal paternity test done the second she could. She called me this morning and told me she’d gotten the results. I’m not even sure she’d looked at them herself yet.”

“To do a DNA test she would have to have our DNA.” Spencer finally spoke and as expected his voice pitched as he spoke. 

“It wasn’t exactly protocol, but she said something about having one of your toothbrushes and a hairbrush? I guess you left them at her apartment.” 

“Were there any other guys apart from us?” Luke sounded much like he was interrogating a criminal. 

“Not as far as I’m aware. And she told me everything.” 

Luke’s eyes cast back upwards towards Spencer. 

“One of us is the father of her child.” His voice cracked now as though he was just realising the weight of this. 

“Yeah.” Spencer croaked back, swallowing a sizable lump that had formed in his throat. 

Spencer felt like the walls were somehow closing in on him. The room got smaller and smaller around him and everyone else in the room became hazy. 

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with a baby which could be his. But it could also be Luke’s. 

And if you didn’t wake up, the baby wouldn’t make it to term. He might have to grieve for a baby that he would never know was his or not. 

His breaths started to wrack his whole body. He knew he was having a panic attack but he didn’t know how to stop it. 

Deep breaths Spencer, deep breaths.

It didn’t work. His breathing became more heightened, his legs wobbling beneath him as he swayed on the spot. 

A figure moved closer to him but Spencer couldn’t see enough to work out who it was. 

“Reid? Reid?” The voice was far off, almost ghost-like. “Reid, can you hear me? You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Yes.” Was all he could respond. 

“Can you breathe with me, Reid?” Luke kept a firm hold on his shoulders while Spencer nodded dumbly. “Deep breath in, hold it, hold it. Exhale. Inhale, hold it. Exhale.” 

Spencer tried to focus on Luke’s words and his breathing. 

In and out. In and out. In and out. 

Slowly his breathing started evening out and Luke let go of him so he could pour him a glass of water. 

Spencer’s hand was still shaking as he took the plastic cup and brought it to his lips. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled between sips, using his free hand to rub his eye with his palm. 

Luke recognised the gesture as something he did a lot after his release from prison. Spencer never really had gotten over his PTSS and Luke could see the stress of this situation bringing it to the surface. 

“You ok, man?” Luke asked him softly. 

“Uh, yeah I think so.” Spencer exhaled. “I uh…I need to go.” 

He placed the cup back on the side table and collected his bag and jacket. 

Neither Luke or Lauren argued with him. 

He gave you one last glance as he headed to the door. 

Once he was in the comfort of his own home, Spencer finally let the weight of the situation come crashing down on him. 

He barely made it to his couch before he broke, tears streaming heavily from his eyes as he curled up into a ball and sobbed. 

He was so undeniably in love with you but he may never get to tell you that. He may never get to know who’s baby you were carrying. 

And even if you did wake up, what if the baby was Luke’s? How did he possibly begin to reconcile the fact the love of his life was carrying another man’s baby? 

The dull ache in his heart spread rapidly, encompassing his whole chest. If he didn’t know any better he might think he was having a heart attack. 

No, not a heart attack, he thought, clutching his chest. Another panic attack. 

He forced himself to focus on his breathing. In and out. In and out. He kept his eyes trained on one spot on the wall and tried to empty his brain of everything that didn’t directly pertain to his breathing. 

It had been a really long time since Spencer last suffered a panic attack and now he’d had two in one day. 

He had them a lot as a child but as he’d grown older he learnt how to control his panic before one set in. 

He’d been in more dangerous situations over the years than he cared to count. He’d faced down hundreds of serial killers, been abducted and put in prison and not once did he allow himself to get in this state. 

But there were too many potentially bad outcomes to this scenario for Spencer to trick his body into calming down. 

He forced himself to sit up and leant forward until his head was between his knees. He focused on the carpet beneath his feet and breathed in and out. In and out. 

The statistical probability of you waking up and the baby being his and your wanting to be together as a family was so slim that no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t calm himself. 

His heavy breathing was causing his head to spin which in turn caused the carpet beneath his feet to spin. 

He felt like he was losing his touch on reality. And at some point his brain's only option was to shut down entirely in an attempt to protect him. 

Everything suddenly went dark and finally Spencer had a small sliver of peace. 

***

When he woke he was in a crumpled heap on his living room floor. His body ached from sleeping on the uncomfortable wooden surface and his head throbbed. 

He rolled onto his back with a groan, rubbing his eyes with his palms. He was still fully dressed, shoes included. He had no idea of the time other than the fact sunlight was streaming in through the windows. 

He pushed himself up on his elbows and then slowly into a sitting position. 

He felt like he’d been repeatedly bashed over the head with a two by four and the ache spread down his neck and spine. 

He was far from well rested. 

Just as he considered crawling into bed and trying to get an extra few hours sleep his phone alerted him to a new message. 

He groaned again, fishing it out of his pocket. 

It was Garcia. They had a case. 

How the fuck was he supposed to get his mind to focus on work with everything that was going on? Hopefully work could provide him a much needed reprieve from his thoughts.  

With too much on his mind, Spencer didn’t even think of showering or changing or even brushing his teeth, just made a strong cup of coffee to go and left the apartment. 

His morning ritual oversight didn’t even occur to him until he stepped into the bullpen and headed to his desk. 

“Why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” JJ gave him a suggestive nudge in the arm. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He didn’t meet her gaze, scared if he did he would crumble in an instant. 

“Have you showered? You smell…ripe.” She took a step backwards and really took in his appearance.

His shirt was wrinkled beneath his cardigan and his tie was almost completely off to one side. His hair was matted, she knew he didn’t do much with his hair but he hadn’t even seemed to run his fingers through it like normal. 

“I uh…no I didn’t.” He shook his head.

“What’s going on?” JJ frowned in confusion, instantly worried about her friend. 

The door to the bullpen swung open and Luke slumped in just then. He’d at least changed clothes but he looked nearly as haggard at Spencer. 

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.” He set his bag down on the desk and before JJ could say anymore Emily’s door opened. 

“Round table room.” She informed them all before marching towards the room herself. 

Spencer was thankful for the distraction. 

Luke shot him a glance before Spencer had a chance to move too far and with a sigh Spencer hung back a little. 

“You feeling any better, man?” Luke spoke in hushed tones. 

He seemed genuinely concerned for Spencer whilst Spencer had just been looking at Luke like his competition. They were still friends, he reminded himself.

“I don’t even know.” Spencer admitted. “I had another panic attack when I got home and ended up passing out on the floor I guess. I didn’t even shower or change my clothes this morning.”

“I can tell.” Luke teased although his heart didn’t sound in it. “We need to tell Emily what’s going on. She needs to know what’s going on with us.”

Spencer pulled a face as they started up the stairs.

“I don’t relish the idea of anyone knowing we were dating the same woman. Let alone the fact she’s pregnant with one of our kids.” Spencer groaned, saying it out loud. “But you’re probably right.” 

They reached the round table room and the conversation came to an end as they slipped into the two last remaining chairs. 

Neither of them could properly focus on Garcia’s presentation of the case. 

Not when your life and the life of your unborn child lay in the balance.

***

The case was at least a local one, neither Spencer nor Luke could have brought themselves to leave the state while you were in hospital. 

After Emily gave out assignments Luke coaxed Spencer into joining him in Emily’s office. 

The last thing Spencer wanted was to have anyone find out about this horrible situation he’d found himself in. 

And as he listened to Luke explain everything to Emily, it was clear she wasn’t too enthralled by the situation either. 

“Oh boy.” She sat back in her chair, blowing a large breath out of her mouth. “That’s…I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do…”

“Thanks Emily. We just thought you should know.” Luke spoke on both of their accounts. 

He kept using terms like we and us but Spencer hadn’t said a single word. 

“Just try and focus on the case as much as you can. I know it won’t be easy but there’s nothing you can do for Y/N until she wakes up.” 

“If she wakes up.” Spencer muttered under his breath but both Luke and Emily heard him. 

“You can’t think like that, Reid.” Emily spoke softly, as though he was a child who needed protecting from the harsh realities of the world. 

Maybe he did. 

“I can’t not think like that.” Spencer suddenly pushed the chair back and stood up. “She might not wake up. I’m not going to let my hopes get up by thinking she will. She may very well die and we might never know who’s…who’s…” he trailed off when his breathing started getting erratic. 

For fuck sake, not again, he thought as he fell back to the chair.

He put his head between his knees and forced himself to breathe. 

In and out Reid. Just in and out. It’s not fucking hard. 

A hand between his shoulder blades startled him. It started rubbing up and down his spine while a voice mumbled, “it’s ok, Spencer. Deep breaths.”

It seemed like some kind of joke that Luke had to keep calming him down like this. Luke was dealing with the same situation as him, he wasn’t fair he had to keep looking after Spencer this way. 

“He had a panic attack at the hospital too. He said he had one last night as well.” Luke’s voice sounded distant even though he was right next to him. 

“Are you ok to work the case?” Emily sounded even further away.

“I think so, yeah.” Luke replied while continuing to rub Spencer’s back. 

“Spencer? Spence, can you hear me?” Emily sounded a little louder now and he felt her presence crouching next to him. 

He didn’t want to speak for fear of losing his breathing rhythm so he lifted a hand and gave her a thumbs up. 

“I’m going to have Anderson take you home. You’re no good to us like this. Once you’re feeling better you can still consult on the case but you need to go home, ok?” 

Spencer wanted to argue but he knew it would only raise his blood pressure and cause his breathing to grow frantic again. 

So instead he gave her another thumbs up. 

Luke stayed with him, stroking his back but he heard Emily leave the room. 

Once the two men were alone Spencer forced himself to speak, head still between his legs. 

“S-sorry.” He panted slightly, trying to keep control of his breathing. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

Spencer took a few more breaths, hoping he’d calmed himself enough and sat back to look at Luke.

“How are you…h-how are you so ok?” Spencer had tears behind his eyes. 

It was a strange one eighty from the hospital yesterday when Luke was breaking down and Spencer couldn’t bring himself to feel the weight of it all. 

Once he’d let the weight sink in, he couldn’t shake it. 

“I’m not ok.” Luke shrugged. “I’m just…trying to get through it.”

Spencer simply nodded, knowing that whatever he said could very well cause him to panic again. 

Luke stayed with him until Anderson came to take him home. He was grateful the rest of the team were out of the office working the case because he really didn’t need to explain to everyone what was going on. 

Luke watched him being led out of the bullpen with a heavy heart. 

Of course he was scared, terrified really and he wanted your baby to be his more than anything else in the world. 

But if it wasn’t his, Luke wouldn’t be destroyed by it. But Spencer certainly would. 

He was crazy about you, besotted by you. But maybe he didn’t love you the way Spencer did. 

***

Spencer spent three days locked inside his apartment with way too much time to be stuck in his thoughts. 

Every time he bordered on having a panic attack he thought maybe going to see you would help alleviate some of his fears. But the thought of seeing you unconscious again, fighting for your life only sped up the process of his inevitable attack. 

At last count Spencer had suffered seventeen panic attacks over those three days. Some were completely debilitating, lasting until he ultimately passed out and some were much more manageable. 

He’d not felt this level of anxiety since he was a child being profusely bullied for not only being incredibly smart but for being much younger than his peers. 

For the first time in a long time, Spencer considered drinking. Alcohol was a sedative so he thought maybe having a little to drink would help ease his fractured mind. 

But he also knew those effects would only be short term. Drinking alcohol disrupts the balance of chemicals and processes in the brain. When he sobered up it would only make his anxiety worse. 

By day three logically he knew he needed to shower as his pungent odour followed him around much like the large rain cloud. 

But actually doing so required more energy than Spencer had left in his body. 

Instead he sat in the tub with the shower running overhead, still dressed in his silk pajamas. He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared straight ahead as the water flowed around him. 

He sat in the tub like this for almost an hour, trying not to dwell too much on the fact the last time he’d bathed like this was after his release from prison. 

For weeks after his release Spencer hadn’t been able to shower properly. Maybe it was because prison showers were one of the worst experiences of his life. 

Being naked in front of his fellow inmates and guards with absolutely no privacy while he bathed was the most demoralising moment of Spencer’s life. 

So for weeks after he’d come home, showering was too much for him. It was a slippery slope for him to be resorting to his coping mechanisms after prison but he didn’t care. 

He hadn’t eaten much of anything in those three days. He drank copious amounts of coffee with his usual gratuitous amount of sugar which was probably the only thing keeping him going. 

He remembered eating a slice of dry toast as bread seemed to be the only thing in his sparse cupboards. He couldn’t pinpoint when exactly he’d eaten though. 

Lauren texted him most mornings and evenings, usually just a simple “no change”. 

Luke had tried to call several times as had Emily but he ignored them. He continued to ignore Luke when he came to his apartment yesterday too. 

“Reid, I know you’re in there. Please just let me know that you’re alive at the very least.” 

It was very reminiscent of the period of Spencer’s life after Maeve’s death, when his team would come over and beg for some sign of life out of him. 

You’d think after all the trauma suffered in his life, Spencer would have developed better coping mechanisms. But still the only way Spencer knew how to deal with his emotions was to shut down entirely. 

Of course it wasn’t healthy, he was well aware of that. He just had no idea how else to deal with them. 

He finally forced himself out of the tub when the water started to run cold. His bathroom was quickly soaked from the water pooling off his pajamas but if he noticed he didn’t do anything about it. 

He slumped through to his bedroom, water rolling down and seeping into the carpet. He stripped off the sodden clothing and tossed them in a pile on the floor to deal with later. 

Without bothering to dry himself off he pulled on a clean pair of boxers under a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old CalTech t-shirt. 

He sagged onto the unmade bed and rolled over onto his side, pulling his limbs close to his body. 

The lamp was still on but he’d be damned if he was moving again. 

He knew he wouldn’t sleep, he didn’t even know what time of day it was if truth be told. His curtains had been drawn since he’d been sent home three days ago so he had no idea if it was day or night. 

He also didn’t care. 

His pillow beneath his face became wet quickly as it collected the water rolling off his hair. His clothes clung to his damp body but neither were cause for concern. 

He stared at the half open bathroom door for some time. He’d lost track of time days ago so he had no way of knowing how long he just stared. 

When his phone started to ring from its place on the nightstand, his initial reaction was to ignore it, just like he’s done every other time it’s gone off the past three days. 

However this time, something in Spencer’s gut told him he needed to answer it. He didn’t know why. But he’s also not in the business of ignoring his gut. 

Pushing himself up from the mattress a groan escaped his lips as his body screamed for rest. He ignored it and reached for the device. 

Lauren’s name flashed on the screen and Spencer’s chest tightened in an instant. She hasn’t called him the past three days. Only text. 

What did that mean? 

Fumbling with the device he answered the call as fast as he could before holding it to his ear. 

“Hello? Is she ok?” His panic set in immediately. 

A long stretch of silence met his ears and his panic only grew. 

“Lauren? What’s happened? Please say something.” 

“She’s…she’s awake Spencer. Y/N is awake.” 

Before Spencer knew what was happening he was crying. There was no warning to it, one second he was completely dry eyed and the next he was practically sobbing down the phone.

“Oh my gosh.” He moved without the forethought to do so, locating his converse and slipping them on his feet. “I’ll be right there.”

“Spencer, there’s something you should know. She’s-“

“I won’t be long!” He barely registered Lauren’s words before he hung up, grabbing his overcoat and throwing it on top of his pajamas. 

Phone and keys in hand he fled the apartment faster than he’d moved in days, maybe ever. 

You were awake. You weren’t dead. It had to be some kind miracle. 

Hopefully the universe would grant him another miracle in the form of your baby being his. 

***

He blinked a few times, looking at Lauren like she could very well have grown two heads. 

She waited patiently for her words to sink in. 

Spencer continued to blink rapidly as though that would help him process her words. 

After a while of this Lauren spoke again.

“Did you hear me?” She was blocking the door to your hospital room although she was much smaller than Spencer and was sure he could get past her if he wanted to. 

“Yes.” He finally spoke. “She…she’s got…”

“Amnesia.” Lauren swallowed. “She doesn’t remember anything Spencer. She doesn’t know me or you or Luke, let alone who her baby belongs to. Hell, she didn’t know her own name.” 

“Amnesia.” Spencer repeated as though saying it himself would cause it to make more sense. It didn’t. “Is it…permanent?” 

“The doctors aren’t sure at this stage. She needs to be properly assessed and even then they won’t know for sure.” 

“Can I see her?” 

“You can but you need to bear in mind she won’t remember you. I’ve told her who you are and that you could possibly be the father of her child but she’s very confused right now.” 

“My mother has dementia, I can deal with confused.” Spencer sighed. 

“Right. Ok.” Lauren didn’t really know how to respond to that so instead she stepped aside and allowed Spencer access to your room.

Spencer had learnt with his mother it was best to just keep positive. Act as though everything was normal and field the confused questioning when it came.

Stepping into the room and seeing your eyes open and looking at him made his heart swell. He smiled softly as he came closer to the side of your bed. 

He wanted to reach out and touch you but he refrained. He didn’t want to risk agitating you. 

“Hi Y/N.” He slid into the chair next to the bed and forced his tears to stay buried behind his eyes. 

“Spencer, right? That’s what she said.” You nodded your head towards the closed door where Lauren stood just beyond it. 

“That’s right. Spencer Reid.” 

You narrowed your eyes on him with a small nod. 

“She said you might be my baby’s father.” 

“Apparently so.” Spencer nodded too. 

“But there was another guy?” 

“Luke. Alvez. Should I call him?” Spencer didn’t necessarily want to call Luke but he’d do anything you wanted. 

“Not right now. My head is enough of a mess as it is. You know each other?” You frowned at him. 

“We uh…work together. I don’t think you knew that though. We only realised recently we were dating the same woman.” 

“Well this is a nice little mess I’ve gotten myself into isn’t it?” You placed your hands on your stomach which was yet to show signs of the small fetus growing inside of you. 

“None of this is your fault, Y/N.” Spencer went to reach for you but refrained once again. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” 

It was easy for him to say, all you could do was worry. You’d woken up in a hospital with no idea how you’d gotten there, no idea who you were or anything in your life for that matter. 

How could you not worry? 

But there was something very calming about Spencer’s presence. The look in his eyes when he told not to worry made you momentarily calm. 

You could understand why you must have liked Spencer. He was incredibly attractive even if he was wearing…were those pajamas? 

He had kind eyes and a soft, gentle smile. His voice was tranquil and you could see it written all over his features how much he cared about you. 

Did you love him? And if you did, why was there another guy involved? 

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” Your voice cracked a little as you spoke. 

“What have you got to be sorry for?” 

“All of this. I’m sorry I don’t remember you.” A tear escaped your eye and this time Spencer couldn’t stop himself. 

He’d shot up and cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears suddenly falling steadily with his thumb. 

His hands were large and slightly calloused. They were warm and comforting. 

“Don’t you apologise.” He told you softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me?” 

You nodded but your tears continued to fall. Spencer wiped away every last one of them. 

Your brain might not remember him but you were sure in that moment that your heart did. His touch was so familiar and those hazel eyes staring lovingly at you tugged at something inside of you.

You wanted to remember him. You needed to. Because you were sure your heart knew him intimately. You just wished your mind did.

***

Luke arrived a few hours later after Spencer finally found it in himself to call him. 

Spencer went in search of coffee so he could give you and Luke some time alone, the whole time his mind was racing. 

What if you remembered Luke and not him? Spencer was sure Luke Alvez was much more memorable than he was. What if you never remembered him? What if all your memories came back except ones of Spencer? 

Spencer wished he wasn’t such a pessimist all the time but it had been ingrained in him. Bad things consistently happened to Spencer, how could he be expected to be optimistic? 

He knew he was going to spiral if you didn’t regain your memories of him. He knew his mental health would be on a steady decline if you couldn’t recall him and if your baby was Luke’s he would surely crumble entirely. 

He frightened himself when his brain threw out the idea of getting high. Dilaudid never failed to take his pain away, even if it was only temporary. 

No. This had to stop. 

He didn’t relapse when Maeve died. He didn’t relapse after prison. He wasn’t going to relapse now. He couldn’t. He would not destroy his sobriety over this. 

But he may very well destroy his mind instead. 

Silence flooded the room when he rejoined you and Luke and slowly you drifted back to sleep, leaving Spencer and Luke awkwardly sitting vigil at your bedside. 

Eventually both men called it a night and went their separate ways home only to return the following morning. 

You smiled wearily at the two men as they both took their seats either side of your bed. 

“How did you sleep?” Luke beat Spencer to the punch. 

“I don’t know.” You confessed with a sigh. “Doctors and nurses come and go every few hours so it’s hard to say.” 

You looked from Luke to Spencer and back again before focusing on your hands. 

“I had a dream last night.” You mused, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“What kind of dream?” Spencer asked and your eyes darted towards him. 

“I’m not sure. It was…it was so realistic.” You continued gnawing on your lip. “I was in a bookstore and I had this great big pile of books and I guess I dropped them? I remember Alice in Wonderland and…”

“Charles Lutwidge Dodgson.” Spencer’s heart skipped a beat as he spoke. 

“Yeah.” You croaked. “He was a photographer before he was an author?” 

“He was.” Spencer nodded, feeling tears pricking his eyes. “You walked into me because you didn’t see me over the obscene pile of books in your arms. I helped you collect them up and when I saw your copy of Alice in Wonderland, I told you some stuff about Lewis Caroll.” 

“It wasn’t a dream?” You sounded so relieved. 

“No.” Spencer smiled shakily at you. 

You both momentarily forgot Luke’s presence until he cleared his throat, forcing the two of you to look at him. 

“Y/N,” he stood up and came closer, taking hold of your hand. “You might not ever remember everything but I’m pretty certain that you and Spencer…” he trailed off glancing up at Spencer.

“Me and Spencer what?” You goaded him to continue. 

“You two are perfect for each other.” Luke confessed even though it pained him to do so. 

The way the two of you looked at each other was so different from any way you’d ever looked at him. 

Luke was crazy about you. Spencer was in love with you.

“What…what are you saying?” Spencer spoke now, a slight crack in his voice. 

“If your baby is mine, I promise I will be there for him or her. You have my word on that. Just before your accident you broke up with me and I’m pretty certain it was because you were in love with Spencer. And I know him well enough to know that he’s in love with you too. So if it’s my kid I will be there for them, but as far as we go…I’m taking myself out of this equation.” Luke sniffed back any tears that might fall and let go of your hand. 

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking over at Spencer. 

“Luke I…”

“It’s all good, man. Really.” Luke offered him a weak smile and before he could change his mind, he backed towards the door. 

It hurt, of course it did. But he’d be ok. He’d bounce back, he was sure of it.

As he hurried down the corridor towards the exit he found himself smacking right into someone.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” He reached out and steadied the person's shoulders, guilt written all over his face. 

“It’s ok.” They smiled at him, slightly amused. “Maybe slow down a little next time.”

“I’ll uh…bear that in mind.” Luke couldn’t help but smile as he looked into the sparkling eyes in front of him. “I’m Luke by the way. Luke Alvez.”

“Lisa. Lisa Douglas.” 

***

The silence in the room was almost deafening after Luke left. Neither you or Spencer knew what to say to ease the tension. 

It was several long, painful minutes before you finally broke the silence.

“Was he right?” You croaked. 

“About what?” Spencer asked even though he knew exactly what you meant. 

“Were you in love with me?” 

“No.” Spencer shook his head, but was quick to continue. “Not past tense. I am in love with you. Presently, right here and now I am in love with you. And future tense because I know I always will be.” 

“Was I in love with you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He stepped a little closer to your bed. “You're a very indecisive person, that’s why you were dating both of us. You had a hard time making small decisions let alone big ones. You weren’t looking for anything serious but I still fell in love with you anyway. Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.” 

You reached for him and grasped his hand in yours, pulling him even closer.

“I don’t remember any specific events. But I think I’m recognising feelings, if that makes sense? I don’t know exactly what I felt for you Spencer but I know it was big. I know you meant a lot to me, I can feel it in my heart. And I’m also sure that falling in love with you would be the easiest thing in the whole world.” 

Spencer wiped his eyes with his free hand, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Do you think maybe…if I kissed you it would…I don’t know, jog something?” He cupped your face. 

“It surely couldn’t hurt.” You smiled and then Spencer was pressing his lips against yours.

Your heart practically exploded out of your chest and if you didn’t know what you felt for him before, you certainly did now.

You were in love with this man. You didn’t need all your memories back to understand what you felt in your heart. 

Your heart had a memory of its own. Your heart had a collection of memoirs all dedicated to Spencer Reid. 

He deepened the kiss and your certainty only grew. 

Behind your closed lids, images flashed before your eyes. 

A cosy bookstore. A stranger with kind eyes and messy hair. The smell of coffee and the sound of laughter. 

Walking hand in hand through the park. Glances at your tall companion as all manner of facts left his lips and floated to your ears. 

Lips meeting under a starry sky. Fumbles between sheets. Exchanging loving looks. 

Soft forehead kisses and whispers of “goodnight”. 

A letter in the mail stamped by the hospital. 

Frantically jumping in a car, phone in hand. 

And then a crash. 

The kiss ended and you looked at Spencer wide eyed as he stroked your cheek. 

“Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He frowned at you. 

“I think…I think I remembered something.” You swallowed. 

Spencer took hold of your hand again and squeezed it tightly to comfort you. 

“What is it? What did you remember?” His voice gave way to his fear. 

You briefly looked away from him before looking back whilst rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. You looked at him with wide, slightly fearful eyes. 

A letter in the mail stamped by the hospital.

The words “Paternity Results” emblazoned on the top of an official looking document. 

Two words. A first name and a last name. 

Your baby’s father. 

But for you, it didn’t matter who the father of your baby was, because for the first time in your life you’d made a decision. And it had been an easy one. 

Your car accident could have killed you. It was enough for you to realise tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. 

And you decided you wanted to spend every tomorrow you did have with Spencer Reid. 

You smiled at him and brought his hand to your lips and brushed them over his knuckles. 

“I love you Spencer.” You told him softly. “Even if I don’t remember loving you before, I know that I did. And I know I always will, ok?” 

“O-ok.” He nodded, chest constricting more with each passing second. 

Taking a deep breath and holding his hand tightly, you whispered, “I think I remembered who the father of my baby is.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist -

All ships & genres -

@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @sexy-dumpster-fire @thebloomingeagle @dirtytissuebox @smurphyse

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[baroquebucky]

touch

soulmate au where when you touch your soulmate you see glimpses of your future with them; the winter soldier touches you and realizes there’s so much more out there

series masterlist // next

part one

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u all enjoy this !! i am a sucker for soulmate au’s <3 let me know what u guys think and if u guys want a part 2 !!!

Bucky awoke to the sound of the guards unlocking the door, the metal creaking as Alexander Pierce walked in, waving the guards off to leave the two alone.

“you have another mission today” the man spoke smoothly, bucky getting up from his small bed and staring at the man infront of him, “you need to finish this before it gets out of hand” pierce spoke, eyeing the soldier as he stared blankly ahead.

“Do you understand?” He questioned, bucky looked at him, nodding his head silently as the guards took him out, taking him to get ready for his mission.

He had stopped resisting, he had nothing left, he couldn’t remember much and he had no idea who he even was. Bucky followed the motions, suiting up and grabbing his weapons alongside the other HYDRA agents.

You frowned at steve and natasha, grumbling to yourself as Sam let you into the house.

“im y/n, sorry about these two” you smiled at the man, extending your hand out and turning to your two friends.

“thank you for coming y/n, we really need you” Steve spoke, natasha nodding in agreement as she dried her hair slowly.

“yeah, yeah everyone always needs me” you joked, sitting next to them and rubbing your eyes, “woke me up from my nap so this better be good” you spoke, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back.

Steve and natasha explained the situation, telling you what they knew about the winter soldier, you soaked in the information, attempting to google him but coming up with almost nothing.

“hm, so you want me to do what, exactly” you questioned, looking at the trio staring back at you.

“fight with us, help us, we have to stop HYDRA” Steve spoke, looking at natasha before continuing, “i don’t know who to trust and” he sighed, “we know we can trust you, are you in?”

You smiled, getting up and pulling the three in for a hug, sams eyes going wide.

“of course I’m in, i care about you guys too much to let you die alone” you chuckled, pulling away, looking at Sam before speaking up, “no ones dying by the way, right?”

The four of you were on the rooftop, getting information out of Sitwell, laughing when natasha kicked him off.

“What about that girl from accounting, Laura?” Natasha spoke, looking at Steve as he thought about the woman’s name.

“Lillian! Lip piercing right?” Natasha nodded and Steve shook his head.

“yeah I’m not ready for that” you laughed at the two lightly.

“you should get with the time have a little fun!” You teased, Natasha smiling as you sided with her, nodding her head excitedly.

As Sam brought Sitwell back you began the interrogation, threatening to throw the man off for good is he didn’t start talking. Your eyes were steely and they let you handle him, getting all the information you needed.

“i didn’t know you could be so-” sam stopped, trying to find the right words.

“evil?” Natasha offered.

“terrifying?” Steve chuckled and Sam nodded.

“Insight launched in 16 hours” you spoke up, checking your phone, Natasha nodded speaking up after you, “we’re cutting it kinda close here.”

Steve looked ahead with furrowed brows nodding his head, “well use him to bypass the DNA scans and bypass the helicarriers directly.”

Sitwell scoffed next to you, blabbering on about you something, you rolled your eyes, going to say something when someone reached through the window and threw him out, your eyes going wide.

“what the fuck!” You screeched, looking up and seeing who you assumed was the winter soldier.

Your eyes were wide as you stared out the windshield, a tug in your chest as you saw him sliding across the concrete, steadying himself with his metal arm.

Natasha pulled her gun out, aiming at the man. A car rear ended you, pushing you forward and knocking your wind out. The soldier jumped atop the car, holding on tight as the truck behind you pushed you all foward.

Sam pressed on the breaks, trying to steer away from the other cars. A metal hand reached through the windshield and tore the steering wheel out from his grasp.

“shit!” Sam yelled, eyes wide as the car drove into another, Natasha reaching her gun and shooting in hopes of hitting the masked man.

Steve grabbed onto the three in the front, looking back at you with wide eyes.

“go!” You yelled, scrambling to open the door before the car crashed into the wall.

“hang on!” Steve called, jumping out, with you bracing yourself for the impact seconds after, you flew out the door, hitting the ground with a thud.

You ran to join natasha and Sam, ducking behind cars to avoid the bullets, finally pulling out your pocket knife and hitting one of the men in the chest, running again as they shot at you three even more.

You and natasha jumped down, holding onto her as she shot something under the bridge to swing from.

The two of you landed safely, you pointed to the shadow of the solider, running alongside her to shoot at the man.

You both aimed and fired, hitting his giggled and causing him to turn back. You let out a sigh, hoping they would give you a minute to recover. You both ran for cover as he leaned back over, machine gun in hand and shooting wildly.

“fucks sake” you let out, breathless as you aimed to shoot back at him, running for cover once again, hiding behind the parked cars. Your eyes focusing on the bus steve had fallen into, relief flooding your body when you saw him jumping out and hiding behind the shield safely, eyes moving to the highway and seeing Sam shooting from above.

“I’m gonna leave this recording here, ill sneak up behind him and then you try and get him, we can double team him” Natasha spoke, you nodded, letting her record the memo before setting it down and running.

Your heart raced as you saw the soldier approach the vehicle, waiting for the right moment to strike. As Natasha ran to tackle him from behind you noticed the amount of people still around you, the explosion next to you sending people flying.

“shit” you mumbled, running to help them as Natasha held her own.

“get out of the way! Run! Get out of here” you yelled, pointing at those in frenzy to run in the opposite direction, you glanced over your shoulder, Natasha being thrown into a car.

As you turned to help her you noticed a little girl crying, alone. You debated for a second before running up to her, taking her in your arms and handing her off to some random adult who was fleeing.

Natasha had messed the man arm up, joining her in her sprint as you all yelled for people to move and to take cover. You heard the whirl of a bullet and natasha groan, doubling over next to a car.

“take of her!” Steve yelled, holding off the soldier. You let eyes were wide, putting pressure on Natasha wound and looking around.

“you’re gonna be fine” you told her, looking into the car and breaking the window with your elbow, opening the compartment in the passengers seat and smiling when you found a first aid kit.

“come on” you mumbled, moving her gently and cleaning the wound, doing your best with what little you had. You tried to bandage her, the sound of the bullets hitting Steve’s shield making your hands shake.

“go help them, I’ll be fine” Natasha groaned out, you hesitated before nodding, running to where Steve was.

You hid behind a car, watching as he shoved a knife into a van, barely missing Steve’s head.

You jumped from behind the car as Steve reached to grab his shield, hitting the metal armed man, you used your body weight to twist him back.

Visions flashed in your eyes, quick flashes of a man with a charming smile and beautiful blue eyes. The sound of laughter echoing in your ears as the mask fell besides you. You saw the two of you cuddled up on a couch, you saw two two of you watching a sunset while on a picnic, giggles falling from your mouth.

Bucky saw it too, his mind flashing with pictures of a life he didn’t recognize, seeing you, his mission in them. He saw you cuddled at his side, he saw you on a stage together singing with lyrics on a screen, he saw the two of you rescuing a white cat from the rain. Bucky saw you holding out a present for him, a bright smile on you face, he saw you throwing flour at him in a kitchen, cookies baking in an over.

He stayed on the ground, memories who he used to be flooding his mind, hope of who he could become clouding his judgement.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he looked up at you, standing in front of Steve with an equally shocked look on your face.

“it’s you” you breathed out, your heart tugging in your chest as your eyes met his blue ones, they were cloudy and they were broken but god, you already loved them.

“it’s you” he whispered. A year rolling down his face before HYDRA agents surrounded you all.

“Bucky?” Steve spoke, finally getting a good look at the man.

The super soldier stayed quiet, panic in his eyes and he looked at you, setting his weapon down. You made a move to run to him, but Sam flew in, knocking him feet away from you, Natasha soon launching a grenade.

“no!” You screamed, running to where he was. He was gone.

“No! Please i just found him no!” You cried, sinking to you knees, Sam ran over to you, holding you tightly as you sobbed, agents surrounding the four of you and telling you all to get down on your knees.

You sobbed into sams chest, only leaving his embrace when the agents ripped you from him.

Buckys eyes were wide as he sat in the chair, his heart racing as he recalled your face, your hair. He recalled the flashes he saw, his future with you.

He had something to hold onto, he had something to fight for, someone to survive for. He thought about the man who was next to you, he was familiar, he was in his old memories.

Buckys mind raced, knowing they would wipe his memories, he soaked in every last detail, praying he could hold onto to what he had after they wiped him.

He could hold onto you, his hope.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Waiting for you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

i wrote it over like a month ago, but kept it for today, i hope yall will like it! it’s a cute bestfriends to lovers fic, so yeah... happy holidays, hope you are having an amazing time!

word count: 13k

masterlist

Harry Styles has been a household name around your home, but not for the reason many would think. While for the rest of the world he was the famous singer, former member of One Direction and recent solo artist, the guy who performs at the biggest arenas, wins awards and sings his heart out through the radio, for you and your mom he was the goofy, curly haired boy who lived across the street with his mum, sister and stepdad.

You still remember all too clear the first time you met him. You and your mum just moved into your new home after the nasty divorce of your parents, ready to start a new life. You’ve barely turned twelve, it was quite the awkward stage of your teenage years, you were still trying to find yourself on the rocky road of growing up. Moving to a whole new town and switching schools were terrifying and you had quite a few nightmares about possible outcomes of being the new girl in the neighborhood.

You and your mum just finished unpacking the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and you wandered behind her, curiously peeking at the guests under her arm as she held the door open.

“Hi! We saw the trucks and thought we would say hi! I’m Anne and this is my son, Harry,” the nice woman greeted your mum and stepping aside she gestured towards the teenage boy standing next to her.

His green eyes fell to you almost immediately and you forgot to breathe for a moment. You were not the kind to crush that easily on guys, well, not until you laid your eyes on Harry. He smirked at you, nodding in your way in such an easy-going manner and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

Anne and your mum quickly became good friends. She was the rock your mum definitely needed after such a bad year behind her and you were glad she found support in such a wonderful woman as Anne. Their newly funded friendship got stronger day by day until the two families just… simply felt one.

Growing up the Styles siblings and Anne came and go in your home as if they lived there too. On many occasions you came home from school only to find Anne in the kitchen while your mother wasn’t even home. Anne always knew when your mum was working the night shift at the hospital where she was a nurse and always made sure you had a warm dinner on those evenings, often inviting you over to just stay at theirs while your mum was away working. Birthdays, graduations, Easters and Christmases, they were all spent at either yours or at the Styles home, strengthening the bond between the two families.

You have always had a strong friendship with Gemma, but maybe because you were closer in age or for something else, but you became the closest with Harry. Two peas in a pod, as your mums liked to call the two of you. You weren’t just neighbors or good friends, it was clear to anyone and to both of you as well that you were the best of friends. You were there for each other at the best and worst of times, before and after Harry’s launch to stardom. You were there with him all along, sometimes physically, sometimes just through text messages and reassuring calls when he just needed a piece of his home away from home. Late night calls and talks were your usual when he was on the road and he made sure to only talk about his life after you’ve told him everything about yours, even if the most interesting thing was that you were able to buy three socks for the price of two. Harry listened and cared for everything that happened to you, not letting you think even for a moment that he would forget about his best friend when he is on the other side of the planet.

The two of you grew up together and while his life consisted of concerts, screaming fans, telly appearances and award shows, your mundane everydays went on the same was as any normal young girl’s: you graduated from high school, went to uni and then started a career for yourself. As time was moving it became a little more and more complicated to stay as close as you used to, though, both of you terribly busy with your own personal lives, so the calls, texts and meetings became less frequent, but you were always able to pick up from where you left, it was as easy with him as it could be.

Maybe that’s why you grew to love him in a more than friendly way through the years. Slowly, but surely you started to realize what an amazing man he really was –is. It was impossible not to fall for him, however you valued your close friendship more than to just ruin it with dropping a bomb on Harry. You always thought he doesn’t feel the same way, so you were sadly left with your daydreams and fantasies about him only your bedroom walls heard.

This year it’s gonna be the tenth Christmas you get to celebrate together, quite the anniversary. There were only two years when you didn’t see each other during the holidays, the first one because you and your mum spent it in Canada with some relatives that live there, and the second one was because Harry couldn’t come home a few years ago, having a too tight schedule. But this year, everyone made sure to make it back home in time. Harry called you three month before Christmas to check in if you are still gonna coming home.

“Would be an idiot not to. Can’t wait to stuff my head with cookies!” you chuckled.

“Have you found your sweater yet?” Harry questioned, the muffled noise of the traffic around him broke through the line as he was on his way home when he called.

“Not yet. But I’ve been looking. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win this year,” you smirked in victory.

“Oh, not so fast with the assumptions, little girl!” he warned you making you laugh.

The two of you had a kind of tradition. Every year, you go on mission to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could find, and then perform a chosen song at the karaoke machine after dinner, entertaining the rest of the family. Those performances are the best memories you nurse. Your absolute favorite one was just a couple of years ago when Harry’s sweater was filled with weird looking reindeers in quite inappropriate poses, he even added a glittery pair of sunnies and he sang I Want To Break Free from the Queen. Everyone was on the floor laughing as he took the living room by storm as if it was the Maddison Square Garden filled with thousands of screaming fans, while it was just the five of you.

He won that year, Hell, even you voted on him, giving him the cleanest win of all times, but you swore to live up to that performance and you really feel like this year is gonna be your chance to live up to that promise. You have quite some tricks up your sleeves.

These past couple of years you were anxiously waiting for the holidays to roll around, because you knew you would get to spend so much time with Harry and through the year, even with several occasions of the two of you meeting, you missed him dearly. Sometimes you selfishly wished he would have just stayed the boy across the street so your lives could take tracks that run at least close to each other, but you always reminded yourself that his work was his life and you would have never taken away his true passion and happiness. Besides, you love watching him perform from time to time, that was just one of your favorite sides of him, see his eyes shine so bright as he sang to his fans. You used to envy the fangirls, it always seemed like he had a special connection with them, but you realized that you were one of them. You felt the same excitement when he stepped on the stage, you bought all his albums, even though he made sure you’d be one of the first people to get your hands on it. You had a second copy of them, because buying it gave you the extra jolt of happiness and the feeling that you were a tiny part of his success too. You watched all his music videos, knew the lyrics to his songs and cheered on him whenever he won another award. Difference was that at the end of the day you could call him and tell him how proud you were of him and he stared back at you with that beautiful grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks, telling you that he wouldn’t be here without you. You always knew he just said it to make you feel special, but he insisted it was the truth.

“I’m telling you. It you weren’t with me I would have gone crazy already, pulling a Justin Bieber or summat. Don’t think you are any less than what you are, that’s just daft.”

Every time he said something along those lines those damned butterflies in your stomach went crazy and you tried your best to ignore them. You didn’t always succeed, but the effort was there.

 Now it’s two days before Christmas and you are already standing in your old room after coming home from London, leaving your small but cozy little apartment empty until the next year. The walls are still the same lilac color you chose when you were fourteen, a twin bed is pushed against the wall under your window, the wardrobe’s door is littered with old pictures from high school and ones you cut out from magazines. You just never got around to take them down and after a while it brought you a comforting sense every time you came home. A warm nostalgia took over you when you saw them, so they eventually stayed.

Your suitcase is lying on the floor as you unpack some stuff you’ll be using often during your stay, but you don’t get far in the packing when you hear an all too familiar voice coming from downstairs. Leaving your stuff as it is you rush down and throw your arms around Anne from behind, who is standing in the kitchen with your mum.

“My sweet angel! How are you?!” she cheers turning around in your hold to hug you back, giving you a tight squeeze before she pushes you away so she can have a good look on you. “Swear you get prettier every time I see you!”

“Stop it, my head’s gonna get big,” you chuckle feeling yourself blushing a little.

“Never gonna stop praising my daughter,” she smiles and gifts you with a cheeky wink.

Anne was never shy to let you know that she thought of you as a second daughter and you still remember how it felt when she called you that for the first time. It felt nice to know that you could count on her no matter what.

The three of you chat in the kitchen, Anne asks you about your job and how things have been going, she hasn’t seen you in a while. You missed the times when you could just go across the street and have a talk with her whenever you wanted, but since you’ve moved to London, Harry wasn’t the only one you didn’t get to see as often as you would have wanted. Your job and life overall got you so busy sometimes, you barely had time to call your own mum.

“Harry is arriving this evening. Wanna come with us to fetch him up at the airport?” she asks you and of course you say yes. You wouldn’t miss the chance to greet him with a bone crushing hug just after he lands.

However, as the time nears when you’d have to leave to the airport, Anne calls you up and asks if you could go on your own.

“I didn’t finish cooking and Gems is in an online meeting. Would you mind if you went alone?” she asks and though it sounds a little made up, you don’t question her.

On your way to the airport you are nervously drumming on the wheel, the thought of seeing Harry excites and worries you a little. It’s been months since you last seen him in the flesh and though you’ve talked plenty of times on the phone and in video calls, it’s just not the same. You find yourself wondering if he still smells the same, if you’ll fit the same way into his embrace as before. When you were younger you often liked to think about the two of you as two pieces of legos when you hugged. Your frame just fitted so perfectly against his body, he was your absolutely favorite person to hug.

Standing in a corner at the terminal, you keep checking the board until his flight’s status changes to landed. Then your eyes are glued to the sliding glass doors, knowing well it’s gonna take him some time to get his bags and walk out, but you are just way too excited to finally see him again.

People start walking through the doors and your head perks up every time you see a slightly tall frame, only to realize it’s still not him. Until it is.

You can’t bite your growing smile back when you spot him, a beanie and the hood of his hoodie covering his mop of hair, sunnies hiding his eyes, but you’d recognize him even from just the tiniest detail. You push yourself away from the wall as you see him look around, probably searching for his mum and sister, because he was already on his way when Anne decided it’s gonna be you who fetches him up, so he doesn’t know about the change.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture?” you ask teasingly walking up to him and for a moment you can tell he believes it’s a fan who recognized him, but his face quickly changes once his eyes land on you.

“Fo’ fuck’s sake, you had me for a second,” he breathes out, his arms already reaching out to pull you against him and you gladly envelop yourself into his hold. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles tightening his arms around you, and you don’t mind it. As you face is pressed into his shoulder you smile when you realize that he still smells the same. Like home.

“Your mum asked me to come and get you because she didn’t finish cooking. But if you ask me she just wanted to surprise you with me. You happy to see me?” you smirk up at him letting your head fall back so you could look into his eyes.

“Always,” he grins before placing a soft kiss to your temple and letting go of you.

The two of you leave the terminal before anyone could recognize him and packing his stuff up into the car you head back home.

You hand your phone over to him once you hit the road so he can be in charge of the music and it’s no surprise when he starts playing Christmas music straight away. Grinning to yourself you glance over at him and see him scrolling through your camera roll like the nosy little gremlin that he is.

“Hey! I did not give you permission to snoop around my phone!” you warn him, but don’t try to snatch it away from him, there’s really nothing he shouldn’t see, besides, half of those pics have been sent to him through messages.

“Just tryna catch up w’ you,” he mumbles under his breath, continuously opening up photos he is interested in. “New couch, eh?” he asks showing you the screen for a second.

“Yeah, bought it a few weeks ago. You like it?”

“Looks comfy. I should try it out sometime.”

“You never sleep on my couch, what are you talking about?”

“Right, you always drag me t’ your bed,” he snorts and you gasp at him, smacking his chest gently.

“That’s so not true! You always just arbitrarily make yourself comfortable in my bed and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” you correct him.

There hasn’t been many times when Harry crashed at your place, but when he did, he always slept in your bed with you, and the two of you have shared a bed a few other times prior too. It’s nothing new, though it does have a deeper meaning for you than for him, you think. Waking up with Harry snoring lightly next to you, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he is in this intimate state, you just wish you could see him like this all the time.

Harry smirks at you cheekily, scrunching his nose as he chuckles.

“’Cause I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else, Love,” he says before turning his attention back to your phone while you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.

It’s quite late by the time you get home, you’ve run into some traffic, but it just meant more time with Harry. You gladly listened to his stories and you are happy you got some alone time with him. Parking up to your driveway you help him unload his bags before locking the car.

“Wanna go to the Christmas market in the morning? Promised Gemma I’d go with her and Michal,” he asks, slowly walking down the driveway towards his home.

“Uh, sure,” you nod smiling. Not that you had any other plans, the holidays are reserved for family and the Styles’ are family.

“Great, I’ll be here at ten. And thanks for the ride,” he smirks waving goodbye and you watch him cross the street before he disappears in his home and you do the same.

“Y/N? Is that you?” your mum calls out when you walk in.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you ask, hanging your coat before you join her in the living room.

“Not,” she smiles giddily. “Was everything alright at the airport?”

You throw your legs over her lap and she squeezes your ankles playfully.

“Yeah, everything fine.”

“How is Harry?”

“Cheeky and smug, as always,” you huff smirking.

“Can’t wait to see him. I feel like I haven’t seen ‘im in ages.”

“When are they coming over tomorrow?”

“Anne said she’ll come around four to help me cook, the rest I don’t know. Dinner will be done around seven though.”

“I’m pretty sure Gemma and Harry will be here along with Anne,” you snort, knowing well they wouldn’t miss a chance to come over, especially Harry. He has been talking nonstop how he’ll be glued to your hip once he is back home, making up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

“They surely will,” your mum chuckles before you both turn your attention at the telly.

You go to bed way after midnight and finish up the packing you left abruptly when you left to get Harry. Shuffling around in your room you glance out the window and see that the light in Harry’s room is on too. Peeking out you lean against the window’s frame, thinking about the times when the two of you sat in the window, talking on the phone after curfew, keeping your voice down so your parents didn’t wake up, sharing secrets and your silliest thoughts. With Harry, you never felt like you had to keep anything back, he would have never judged you for anything, you could be your true self around him and vice versa.

A tall figure appears at the window and as Harry glances out his window he is quick to see you sitting on the window sill, your head resting against the frame. The two houses are not far away from each other and you see him grinning as he sits at the window as well, pulling out his phone, a moment later yours starts buzzing on the nightstand. You quickly grab it, and go back to the window.

“Creeping on me, eh?” he hums into the phone and you roll your eyes at him.

“Was just admiring the street lights, don’t flatter yourself, your head is getting too big,” you huff, but you can’t push your smirk down.

“Admit it, you were hoping to see me roam around naked, weren’t you?”

“As if I haven’t seen you like that before,” you snort making him laugh too. It’s true, Harry has never been shy to get rid of his clothes and he also doesn’t bother to draw the blinds whenever he is changing. You once saw him butt naked when he was nineteen, and when you told him to close the blinds next time he is changing, he just shrugged with a smug smile.

“’M not ashamed of anything, Love,” he told you and you had to turn away because you were blushing for sure.

“Right, you’re a fan of putting yourself on full display when you’re naked, almost forgot,” you chuckle shaking your head. “Millions of girls have the picture of you, lying naked on their walls.”

“You one of them?” he cheekily asks.

“Nah, doesn’t go well with the vibe of my apartment.”

“Shame. Though I think it would definitely look amazin’ above your bed, Love.”

“Now would it? I don’t know about that.”

“I’ll get you a copy framed,” he smirks and you can see it clear even from the distance. “Y’ know what? I’ll make you an exclusive one. One that nobody else has, how does that sound?”

“I can’t believe you, Styles,” you chuckle shaking your head. “I’m not gonna answer this, just gonna head to bed. You should too.”

“So we’re not sharing any secrets like we used to? Thought you’d have something fo’ me.”

“You know everything, Harry,” you sigh with a soft smile, though your heart skips a beat. He does know everything, except one big, fat, heavy secret you’ve been carrying around for way too long, that will probably stay with you forever.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Night, Harry.”

“Good night, Love,” he murmurs and you know he is smiling, thought he steps away from the window as he says goodbye and you do the same before ending the call.

 ***

 “Hey! That’s mine!” you protest as Harry steals another roasted chestnut from your little paper bag, but you can’t stay mad at him when he is smiling at you so sweetly.

“Sorry, tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”

“Sure,” you snort and just let him get as many as he wants. You wouldn’t have eaten it all anyway.

It’s quite cold out in the town, but at least there’s no rain or storm, so the weather didn’t try to ruin your little trip to the Christmas market.

Gemma calls out for Harry to show him something and you just keep wandering between the booths, enjoying the atmosphere quite a lot, you have no idea when was the last time you got to come to the market, though you always loved coming when you were younger.

Finishing up your chestnuts you throw the paper bag into a trash can and turn around to find the rest of your little group, spotting Harry and Gemma deep in discussion next to a booth that offers handmade ceramic mugs. As you walk closer it almost seems like as if they were having a fight, which is just odd, they rarely do that.

“Just get your head out of your arse!” you catch Gemma telling her brother who only groans in frustration before he spots you, a smile plastering across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” he beams.

“Everything alright?” you ask looking at them.

“Sure, just Gemma is being a little nosy, is all,” Harry waves in dismiss. You glance over to Gems, but she is already back in discussion with Michal so you decide to drop it. “You ate all the chestnuts?” Harry asks offended, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, it was mine, so of course I ate them!”

“Selfish,” he narrows his eyes at you, but you both know it’s just a joke.

You walk further down in the aisle, occasionally stopping at some of the booth when you spot a place that offers hot chocolate in cute little mugs that you can take home with you if you’d like, or just take it back and get your money back.

“Oh look!” you gasp excitedly and head towards the hot chocolate booth. The old lady smiles brightly at the two of you as you take a look at all the choices. “Oh my god, they have caramel flavored!” you cheer, basically already drooling at the thought of a good, caramel flavored hot chocolate.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?” the lady smiles warmly at the two of you and you freeze at her assumption.

“Oh we—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“A caramel flavored and a plain one, please,” he orders, without even batting an eye about how the lady just called you a couple. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought, but you try to calm yourself. He probably just didn’t want to get into explaining that you two are not an item and let her think what she wanted.

The nice lady hands you your mug and you take Harry’s as well as he pays for both of them. You would try to argue with him and pay yours, but you are already used to how stubborn he is and he never lets you split anything, it’s always on him.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Harry calls out to the lady before the two of you leave. You peek at him handing him his mug, looking for any clue that would give away if this little scene got him just as bothered as it did you, but he looks perfectly fine and relaxed, so you decide not to bring it up. You’re sure he didn’t think much of it.

Your little stroll stretches into the afternoon, the four of you decide to have lunch out there too, then you just opt for a walk in town as Gemma wants to do a quick last minute Christmas shopping, so by the time you get home Anne is already over at yours helping your mum with dinner. Tonight you are all eating at yours, then tomorrow it’s the Styles’ turn to host, this is how you agreed this year.

“Woah, it smells amazing!” you call out walking into the house. The delicious smells fill up the whole place and you hear the two women giggling in the kitchen.

“Hi Honey, how was the market?” your mum greets you, a glass of red wine in her hand and the same goes for Anne.

“Great, we have a new mug,” you say holding up the emptied out hot chocolate mug. Stepping to the sink you wash it quickly and drying off you put it away in one of the cabinets.

You stick around in the kitchen and not so much later Harry comes over, the two of you leave your mums alone and get comfortable in front of the telly.

All channels are filled with holiday movies and you don’t mind, really, you like them all even if you’ve seen them a million times, you still find them funny and cute. Harry feels the same way, so when you settle on Love Actually he doesn’t say a word.

What startles you is that he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs over his lap, a small shriek escaping your mouth since you weren’t expecting him to do that. You’re sitting sideways, your legs are bent at the knee and Harry is kind of hugging them as his eyes are glued to the screen.

You find it rather hard to focus on the movie when Harry’s fingers keep fidgeting on your legs, they keep running up and down, sometimes he lays his hands flat on your knees, there’s no spot he hasn’t touched since you started watching the movie.

About an hour into the film he turns to you and you look at him in question.

“’M in the mood to cuddle,” he announces and starts moving around, not even letting you protest as he basically crawls to your lap, resting his head on your stomach as the two of you lay on the couch.

“Am I now your personal pillow?” you ask chuckling, but you wouldn’t want him to move for anything. Feeling him weigh down on you just feels so warm and simple but amazing.

“The best one,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your side as you let your fingers comb through his curls.

You keep massaging his scalp and he lets out soft moans when you go over a soft spot, you can’t help but chuckle as he melts under your hands. His fingers start drawing circles on your side and the movie is long forgotten by you, all you can focus on is how great it is to have Harry so close to you. He is known to be a physical person, you are used to hugs and touches, but it seems like he is a little needier now than the usual.

You don’t mind it though, you just try to enjoy the moment, because it can end anytime.

Gemma and Michal come over a little before seven, and while your mums finish up the cooking the four of you set the table. You grab the crystal glasses and start placing them to the table, Harry lending you a hand. Once the table is all set you shuffle into the kitchen to see if there’s anything you can help with, Harry following you behind, placing a hand to the small of your back.

As you stand and wait for you mum to finish up the meals so you can help carry them to the table you feel Harry’s hand wander over to your hip, giving it a squeeze as he stands closer, so his chest is pressed against your back.

“Harry?” you ask a little out of breath.

“Hm?” he innocently hums.

“What’s with you today?” Turning your head to the side your eyes lock with his, but he just shrugs smiling.

“Guess I just missed yeh a lot.”

“You’re weird,” you chuckle shaking your head, but don’t make an effort to push him away. His touch feels way too good to put an end to it and you just want to be selfish a little longer.

His hands leave you when the two of you help to bring the food to the table, and you almost wish they would just return, but you gotta swallow the thought.

The food is amazing, as always. You all sip on some wine, just having a genuinely good time, enjoying that all of you are back at one place, something that rarely happens now that all three of you kids are all grown up.

At one point Harry rests his arm on the back of your chair, no one seems to notice but you. All these little things have been driving you crazy all day and your mind seems to be playing a nasty game with you. There’s no way Harry thinks of these details more than what they are, a friendly gesture towards an old friend of his.

When Gemma is telling a story about some weird guy she met at work Harry reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear, his finger lingering over your neck a little longer than you would have expected. Turning to face him you give him a questioning look, not sure what to think about his needy and touchy self all of a sudden.

“What?” you mouth him, but he just smiles at you absentmindedly, curling a strand of hair around his finger, playing with it for a moment before letting go of it and going for another lock. You reach up and pull his hand away, feeling yourself heating up from his touch, but when you are about to let go of his hand he grabs yours, lacing your fingers together with yours as he rests them on his thigh.

“Harry…” you breathe out, glancing at the others, relieved to see that they are not paying much attention to the two of you.

“What? Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks with a smug smirk and you roll your eyes at him.

“As I said, you’re weird,” you mumble under your breath looking down at your now empty plate. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.

“But like, the good kind of weird, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you chuckle shaking your head at him.

You try to tell yourself he is just needy because it’s been so long since you last saw each other. It can’t be more, you push even the smallest thought to the back of your mind, though it surely lingers there throughout the evening.

He helps you with washing the dishes, you stand arm to arm at the sink as you scrub the plates and hand over to him for drying. He gently hums to himself all along, swaying his hips, bumping against yours. At first you resist it, but then you catch the rhythm and start moving along, so your hips meet in the middle before swinging to the opposite side.

“What’s the song?” you ask finishing up the last plate.

“Just something random,” he shrugs smirking over at you. You hand him the last plate, he is still singing, making up gibberish lyrics to his song and once he puts the plate down he throws the kitchen cloth to the counter and easily grabs your waist pulling you against him as he starts swaying with you to his impromptu song. You let out a small shriek at the sudden movement, but eventually melt into his hold. The humming slowly turns into an all too familiar melody as Harry starts singing Sweet Creature into your ear, slow dancing in the kitchen while you hear your mums and Gemma laugh outside somewhere.

Your hands run up his arms and stop behind his neck as you lock your fingers and let him hold you close, his palms are pressed to your waist, fingers gently stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deep breath and his cologne fills your nose, one of your favorite scents, sometimes you just wish you could spray it on your pillow so it would always smell like him.

“Sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home…” he softly sings, leaning back just enough for your eyes to meet. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, it’s not the first time you feel so intimidated by him, like you could pass out any moment, but this is a little different. As if his eyes were telling you another story, but you can’t completely make up the words.

“Sweet creature, when I run out of road, you bring me home, you’ll bring me home.” He finishes the song, hums the closing melody and you watch him in complete awe. Your lips part when you catch his gaze move down to them and you swear you see him leaning closer, as if he is about to kiss you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he is so close, just a few more inches and you’d taste those perfect lips of his, the ones you’ve been dreaming about for way too long.

It almost happens, it seems, but just when that last push is about to set in Gemma waltz into the kitchen and you step back faster than light, pushing him away even though the sudden lack of his touch is more painful than you were expecting.

“You guys—Oh, what’s up?” she asks stopping at the door and you feel yourself getting redder with each passing moment, the heat crawling up your neck, ears cheeks, right to the top of your head. What were you thinking? You let yourself believe Harry would ever kiss you, this whole scene was nothing more than just a friendly moment the two of you were sharing.

“I’m—sorry,” you breathe out making your way out of the kitchen, right up to your room to have some well needed space.

“Way to ruin everything,” Harry snickers at his sister.

“You joking? You wanted to kiss her in her mum’s kitchen?” Gemma snaps at him in disbelief.

“We were having a moment,” he mumbles rubbing his face with his hands. “Up until you stomped in with your big mouth.”

“Well, if you were havin’ a moment, just make it happen again.”

“As if it’s that easy, Gemma!” he scoffs throwing his hands in the air.

“Man up and tell her how you feel, don’t have to complicate it too much,” she shrugs before walking out and leaving her brother alone. Harry growls in frustration, the gears in his head turning wildly as he is trying to figure out how to come clear to you about his feelings.

 Meanwhile, up in your room you get out your laptop and busy yourself with checking up on messages and emails you’ve been ignoring, hoping that the uneasy feeling in your chest will ease very soon. Your hands were shaking when you locked yourself up in your room, but as you get focused on other tasks you slowly gain your balance back.

You kind of even forget that the Styles’ were over, you only realize that you abruptly pulled yourself out of the evening when there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come on in!” you call out and a moment later Harry’s head pops in, eyes softly falling on your sitting figure on the bed. “Hey,” you smile at him faintly.

“Hey. Thought you were sleepin’s or summat.” Coming inside he closes the door behind him then sits on your plush rug in the middle of the room.

“Just… sorted some work related things out,” you sigh.

“Working during the holidays? Tha’s not healthy.”

“I know, I’m done,” you smile shutting the laptop down and putting it aside. “Sorry I disappeared, I just—“

“No worries,” Harry shakes his head. “Mum and Gems went home, they thought you were sleeping too, tha’s why they didn’t say goodbye.”

“Oh, alright.”

“But I thought we could have a sleepover,” he peeks at you with a boyish smile.

“What, like we did in middle school?” you chuckle.

“Yea, thought it would be fun.”

“Well, I don’t think my bed would fit us comfortably and we don’t have the mattress anymore that you used to sleep on,” you tell him looking around.

“Nonsense, I’m not tha’ big,” he insists hopping to his feet and throwing himself on the bed, ignoring that you’re already there. His body takes up more than half on the bed , limbs wrapping around you as he brings you down to the mattress next to him, you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips.

“You’re like a gigantic baby, Harry!” you laugh as he keeps you down on the bed with his arm.

“It’s perfectly fine for two people,” he mumbles with a smirk, closing his eyes as his head sinks into your pillow.

“Do you ever get no as an answer?” you ask looking at him in awe. You can never get used to seeing him so up close, like not many get to.

“No,” he huffs in satisfaction, his arm bringing you closer to him and you just giggle at him.

“I’m not sleeping just yet, gotta have a shower first.”

“Do what you want, I’ll be here,” he mumbles but you snort at him.

“You’re not sleeping in my bed without having a shower,” you tell him before you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom.

You have a quick shower and get done with all your evening business. Returning to your room you find Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as he is scrolling through his phone.

“Does mum know you’re staying over?” you ask him as you throw your used clothes into the hamper, moving around the room while feeling his eyes on you.

“Yeah. ‘S all good.”

“You need a towel?”

“Yes please,” he says pushing himself up from the floor.

“Clothes?” you ask with an arched brow. He just grins at you and it’s enough of an answer. “Here,” you give him the shirt and sweats he has left at yours quite some time ago, along with a clean towel.

“Thanks,” he smirks before leaving to occupy the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long in there, you’re lying in bed already when he returns, smelling like your shower gel, strawberry and melon.

He throws his clothes to the chair in the corner and then lies beside you on the bed. You scoot over to the wall to give him space, but he is quick to bring you closer to him once he has made himself comfortable. You lay your head on his shoulder as you are both scrolling through your phones.

When you had enough, you throw yours to the nightstand, and stay cuddled up to his side.

“Do you remember the last time I slept here?” he asks tossing his phone to the nightstand and bringing his arms around you.

“Mm, was it at my twentieth birthday?”

“Yeah. You were so wasted,” he chuckles and you smirk to yourself

“But you took good care of me.”

“I did. You were so cute, rambling about how much you love me when I took you home from the pub.”

You bite into your bottom lip. You still remember that night vividly. Your birthday party had gone a little wild and you had gotten drunker than you intended to. Luckily, he was there to bring your home and he stayed in the bathroom with you as you threw up everything you ate and drank that evening. Then he made you take a shower, got you fresh clothes out and helped you get into bed. He slept next to you that night, holding you in his arms, gently caressing your back and upper arm as you fell into your drunken slumber. In the morning you told yourself he just did what any other friend would do, helping you out when you were clearly knocked out, but he made you breakfast in the morning since your mum was working all night and morning and he stayed over later the afternoon to make sure you were alright.

What you told him in your drunken state about loving him, it wasn’t just your friendly side, it was your drunken self coming clear to him, telling him that you are in love with him, but he didn’t take it seriously and you were too ashamed and awkward to even bring it up to him after that, so it was all forgotten very soon.

Following that you planned on telling him how you feel, several times. You even wrote a little speech you planned to give him when the time comes, but you couldn’t do it. The fear of losing him if he doesn’t feel the same was stronger than you expected and every time you had the chance to come clear, you chickened out. The thought of losing him as a friend is way worse than having to push your feelings down... forever. You just can’t imagine your life without Harry in it and you can’t risk losing him.

The two of you talk for quite a while, laughing about the good old times, until you both fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up and feel Harry wrapped around you, his head lying on your chest as he is snoring softly. He truly is like a big baby, an arm thrown over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours. Good Lord, how amazing it feels to have him so close to you!

Reaching up you tangle your fingers through his hair gently so he doesn’t wake up, his soft curls glide between your fingers easily and lifting your head you kiss the top of his head before letting yourself drift back to sleep.

When you open your eyes the next time the situation is the opposite, you are the one cuddled up to Harry’s side who is scrolling through his phone with one hand, keeping the other one on your arm.

“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he chuckles softly when he sees you awake.

“Mmm, what time is it?” you ask letting your head rest on his chest a little longer.

“Quarter to nine. You can sleep a little more if you want, it’s not that late.”

“No, I promised mum I’d help her wrap gifts,” you sigh rolling over to your stomach as you push yourself up to your elbows to look at him. “Love the double chin you got going there,” you tease him sleepily and he just smirks.

“Yea? Quite cute, right? Worked a lot on it,” he jokes running his finger over it before letting out a chuckle. “Ready for our battle today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. You are going down this year, Styles,” you tell him pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Harry only pushes himself further on the bed enough to rest his head against the headboard.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t be that sure about tha’,” he warns you, but you are feeling pretty confident about your performance this year. There’s no way he can top it.

“We’ll see. Alright, I need a coffee. Want something for breakfast?” you ask him crawling out of the bed.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Your mum is already in the kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee while reading the paper. She doesn’t find it even a bit weird that Harry spent the night at yours, it’s been quite the usual for you. Harry helps you make eggs and bacon and the three of you eat together, having a lovely time and you genuinely feel like it’s just like in the good old times when you were still living home and Harry wasn’t Harry Styles, but the boy from across the street.

He goes home after breakfast to help his own mum with the cooking for tonight’s dinner and you don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend time with your mum, watch movies and relax. It’s nice to unwind after such a busy year behind you.

Not long before five you go to take a shower and get ready to head over to the Styles’ and you pack everything you’ll need for the evening: gifts, ugly sweater, accessories. Harry is going down this year for sure.

It’s a little past six when you and your mum walk across the street, Anne’s Christmas lights are putting the little town house into the spirit for sure. You don’t even ring the bell, just walk straight in, like you always do. The Christmas tree stands tall in their living room and the table is already nicely set. Gemma and Michal are snuggled up on the couch while Harry is helping Anne in the kitchen with the finishing touches.

“I’m rooting for you this year,” Gemma winks at you when you set down your bag in the corner that has everything you’ll need for your performance.

“He’s gonna lose this round,” you smirk proudly, very sure in yourself.

Harry greets you with a bright smile and a tight hug when he walks into the living room, as if you didn’t just see each other a few hours earlier.

When the food is ready you all sit down to eat, and though you’re trying your best to focus on the conversation, you’re getting excited about tonight’s karaoke battle.

“Anxious much?” Harry asks you quietly.

“Why are you asking?”

He doesn’t answer, just places a hand to your thigh stopping it from shaking, making you realize you’ve been probably bouncing it all along. He smirks at you as you just roll your eyes at him.

“’S okay, you can handle one more year of losing,” he teases you and you give him an arched eyebrow.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Harry,” you warn him, but he just squeezes your thigh again before bringing his hands back up to the table, leaving you a little breathless with his touch.

You all help clean up the table after dinner and when it’s done, you gather in the living room to open gifts.

When Harry’s career launched, the first few years you felt anxious about gifting him, because you felt like you couldn’t give him enough. He had all the money and bought everything he needed for himself, there wasn’t much you could give him. But when one time, you admitted to him this struggle of yours he assured you that it doesn’t matter what you give him, it’ll always be precious to him.

“You thought about me, you took the time to buy something for me, and that’s more than enough, Y/N,” he told you and though it took you time, but you got used to it. Especially when you saw the same excitement in his eyes every time you gifted something to him, you slowly but surely realized he wasn’t expecting a Gucci suit, but a thoughtful gesture.

Gathering in the living room you open the presents one by one and just as always, everyone was quite creative with the gifts. You can’t help but still feel a little anxious when Harry grabs his gift from you. Giving you an excited look he unties the little bow on the top and tears the wrapping paper off.

“Y/N!” he breathes out, eyes softening as he pulls the knitted cardigan out of the box.

“I always saw you wearing all sorts of cardigans and so I finally had a reason to learn how to knit, so I thought I would make one for you,” you ramble as he holds up the baby blue cardigan that has little daisies all over the front. It took you an entire week to just make the daisies, you worked on the whole cardigan for more than two months, usually in the middle of the night, staying up until unholy hours to finish in time.

But Harry’s smile is worth it all, he is beaming, clearly so in love with what you made him, so you breathe out relieved. He then puts it aside and wraps his arms around you pulling you into the tightest hug.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” he mumbles and kisses your temple and you breathe in his sweet scent, burying yourself in his embrace, hugging his waist.

When you part, Harry reaches for a box from under the tree and hands it to you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he wrapped the gift himself, the silver wrapping paper is a little uneven, but the huge rainbow colored bow on the top is the perfect touch that makes it like a piece of him.

You carefully tear the paper off, peeking inside you just see a plain box that doesn’t give much away. Glancing up at Harry you see how he is anxiously biting his bottom lip, even though you’d be happy with a gift as small as a candle. It’s the thought that counts.

“I-I wasn’t sure if this was the one you mentioned to me, so I hope it’s gonna be alright,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on your hands as they open the box, while you try to think back what you have told him about that caught his attention, but you just can’t recall what you wanted to get so badly you told Harry about it.

As you open the box you don’t process what it is immediately, the plastic wrapper making it hard to figure it out, but when you carefully pull out the object, you gasp in surprise.

“Harry!” you breathe out as you pull off the plastic of the old, vintage polaroid camera. It’s not one of these new types you can buy in stores easily, this is a classic, must have quite a history behind it.

Now you vaguely remember talking about longing for an oldschool, vintage camera, but it was months ago and you’ve forgotten about the whole thing since these devices cost a fortune because there aren’t many left from them. But now there’s one in your hands, because Harry not only listened to you, but he remembered and went out of his way to find you one in amazing condition.

“This must have cost a fortune!” you huff, your heart pounding in your chest, though you already know it doesn’t matter to him.

“This face is worth every penny,” he smiles at you softly before you throw yourself at him for another round of hugging. This man surely knows how to have you wrapped around his fingers.

The two of you sit on the floor as you figure out how to make the camera work, Harry bought everything needed, so you have a few packs of films as well. When it’s all done you bring it up to your face and aim it at Harry. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re about to snap your first photo and he tries to snatch the camera away, but it’s too late, the flash goes off and the device pushes out the undeveloped picture.

“You wasted your first snap on me?” he protests rubbing his eyes after the flash blinded him for a little.

“It’s not a waste,” you tell him as you patiently wait for the picture to finally appear.

Slowly, the colors start to show and in a couple of minutes Harry’s face appears, his hand reaching in the direction of the camera, looking out of focus, only his face appearing clearly. He looks so delicate, his eyes dazzling as a soft smile plays on his lips. This moment now will live forever not just in your mind, but on this photo.

 Harry goes out with his karaoke performance this year for sure and you’d be actually anxious about him winning if only you didn’t have the absolutely best performance right in your pocket.

His sweater this year features some really ugly looking penguins and a horroristic reindeer on the back, it’s really ugly and you can’t even imagine who thought it would be fine to make it and then sell it. His choice of music is also excellent, he has a great eye for songs you’d never imagine him perform and then shock everyone with it. This year, he chose Rude Boy by none other than Rihanna, and it’s fantastic, no one can make it through the song without crying. Harry makes sure to put on his best show, even dancing and twerking unapologetically, trying everything to win the battle and you are amazed by his effort. Above all the fun and jokes, he nails the song, that’s undeniable. It always baffles you how he can just slay any and all genres, even the ones that stand a million miles away from his style.

When the song is over, you all cheer for him, because he truly deserves it. He grins down at you in victory, but you just give him a challenging smirk.

“You can just give up now, if you want,” he teases you as you stand up from the couch and the two of you trade places.

“Oh, I think you should be the one to worry about losing,” you warn him grabbing your bag. Stepping to Gemma you whisper into her ear, instructing her to put on your song when you call out from the bathroom, since you are planning on do a grandiose entrance. When she hears what song you’ll be singing she gasps.

“Oh my fucking God, no way!” he looks at your with wide eyes.

“What? What is it?” Harry asks, dying to know what you just told his sister, but you shake your head at him.

“Patience,” you tell him before locking yourself up in the bathroom.

This year, you didn’t find the sweater, the sweater found you. On one of your thrift tours, you were digging up a huge pile of clothes when you came right across it and you knew what you needed to do.

Putting on the sweater you fix up your hair quickly before putting on your party glasses, the one that lights up if you switch it on. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror and smirk at your reflection knowing well you’ll have everyone dead when you walk out.

“Gemma! You can start it!” you call out with your hand on the doorknob, waiting to hear the music. Gemma quickly starts in and you haven’t even stepped out, you can hear a round of gasps.

Best Song Ever blasts through the speakers and you walk out trying your best to imitate a younger version of Harry, wearing the absolute ugliest Christmas sweater ever, that has the faces of One Direction all over it, filling up every inch of the fabric, and all of them have poorly photoshopped Santa hats on, it’s just literal trash and ridiculously perfect for the battle.

You grab the mic and start singing as everyone screams in the room. You jump, sing and even do the dance moves the boys do in the original music video, and when you look at Harry you see him staring at you in disbelief and total defeat. Everyone knows you won, nothing can top this performance ever and you could burst from the sweet feeling of victory.

By the end of the song everyone is up on their feet dancing and singing with you, a mini party forming in the middle of the living room and you all scream the last lines as the song comes to its end.

“I think we don’t even need to vote this time,” you say when the music stops, everyone screaming in agreement while Harry stares down at you, trying to hide his growing smirk.

“Where did you even find this?” he asks chuckling as he takes a better look at the sweater.

“At a thrift store, it called out my name, knew it’d be perfect.”

“It really is ugly, if I’m being honest,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again. “And the song… I accept defeat, you earned this victory, Y/N,” he tells you bowing and admitting your victory.

 Later that night everyone is so keen on watching Holiday, you agree to stay even though you feel your eyelids heavily weighing down, threatening to close with each passing moment. You let your head rest on Harry’s shoulder and he presses his cheek against the crown of your head.

It’s not a surprise you fall asleep halfway into the movie, but what you weren’t expecting is to wake up and find yourself not on the couch anymore, but in Harry’s bed. It’s dark, only the moon is shining through his windows and as you turn to the right you see that he is sleeping peacefully next to you on his back, one arm spread next to him, hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Squinting your eyes you look at the digital clock on his dresser, it reads 3:23 am so you’ve been asleep for quite a few hours now. You don’t even remember him bringing you up here, but you’re definitely not mad that he didn’t bring you home, just up to his room.

Rolling to your side you give yourself a moment to adorn his beauty without fearing he would catch your wandering eyes. Everything seems so perfect about him, the line of his nose, his cupid’s bow that delicately rolls into her lips. The crease between his eyebrows, his soft skin on his cheeks, down his neck that runs into his broad shoulders and inked, strong arms. You truly think there’s no man that could compare to him and you are lucky enough to live your life so close to him, be able to touch him, hear his voice whenever you miss him, see his smile and share a connection with him.

It’s so silly, but you think of him as your personal ray of sunshine in your life. Just the smallest things about him can brighten your worst day, he’ll always have a special place in your heart, no matter where life takes the two of you.

Watching him sleeping you allow yourself to break free from your doubts and fears and scooting closer you shyly curl up to his side, your head resting on his shoulder, but you can’t even make yourself comfortable before you feel him moving under you.

Sucking on your breath you think he’ll push you away, not wanting you so close, but instead, he pulls his arm from under you, curling around your frame as he pulls you tight to him, almost making you lie on top of him. Your whole body is pressed against him and you mingle a leg between his long ones under the soft sheets. You let out a long huff at the warm touch of his body against your skin, completely lost in him.

“You alright?” he mumbles in his sleep laced voice, his eyes remain closed.

“Yeah. Is this okay?” you nervously ask as you lay your hand flat on his stomach. He brings his hand that was hanging from the bed on his other side and covers yours, as he squeezes you tight to his side.

“’M all yours,” he breathes out, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You’re sure he didn’t mean it like that, but it warmed your heart to hear it from him and you let your mind play with the thought that there was more behind his words than a friendly manner.

Nuzzling your head into his chest you close your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat you let yourself fall back asleep.

 Your morning is filled with coffee, pancakes, laughter and great company. Harry doesn’t let you leave without having breakfast with them, so you sit with the Styles family and laugh about the craziest stories from your teenage years.

“Remember when we tried to run away?” Harry grins at you, his red mug that had white polka dots all over it in his hands as he eyes you.

“Oh, how could I forget that?” you huff and Gemma turns to you with surprise in her eyes.

“Wait, I didn’t know about that!”

“Because we didn’t get too far,” Harry laughs. “We were, what, like fifteen?”

“Yeah, it was a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday,” you nod smiling.

“I had a fight with mum about God knows what, then stormed over to Y/N’s and talked her into running away. So we packed our backpacks and left.”

“Where did you go?” Michal asks with an amused grin as he listens to the story.

“We didn’t want to go into town, running into anyone we know, so we thought we would just go straight out to the meadow that’s there,” Harry says gesturing towards the window. The edge of the town is not so war, and a huge meadow lies there, a little stream running across it. “We walked for quite long, but then it started to get dark and we had nowhere to go, so we just ended up coming back home. No one even noticed we were gone, they thought we just went out to bike or something,” he finishes laughing.

“You knew about this?” Gemma asks Anne.

“Yeah, he came clear the next day, thinking he would piss me off with it, but I didn’t care, he came back for dinner, so it was alright,” Anne explains laughing.

It’s been so long since it happened, but I still remember it vividly, only that it was a more dramatic memory back then, now I can only laugh at it.

“We should go for a walk today,” Harry prompts to you.

“Wanna run away again?” you tease him.

“Always,” he chuckles.

You help cleaning up and agree with Harry to meet outside in an hour to take a walk to the meadow. Going home you take a shower and wash the dishes your mum left in the sink when she left for her morning shift. You put on a pair of boyfriend jeans, a warm sweater and your jacket with your trusty boots and you walk out the house right when Harry steps out as well. He grins in your way as the two of you meet in the middle of the street. He holds his arm out for you.

“M’ lady?” he smirks as you link your arm with his and the two of you head out for your little walk. It’s a gloomy day, might rain later as well, but it’s dry so far, so you’re just hoping to get home before it starts raining. Your runaway attempt wasn’t the only time the two of you came out here, it was kind of your place when you felt like having a break from everyone else. You biked out here, brought your favorite snacks and just ran around, enjoying the stillness.

However it also holds a bitter memory as well.

A little further down among the trees happened Harry’s first kiss and you witnessed it, feeling your heart break to a million pieces when you saw him lock lips with someone who wasn’t you.

Debby Hamilton was a friend of yours in sixth grade, you’d say, your only friend beside Harry and the three of you often hung out together around that time. Debby was a delight, you always desired to be more like her, boys liked her and she knew it damn well, but it didn’t make her cocky and egoistic. You always thought Harry had a crush on her, why would have he? They kind of looked cute together.

It was a Friday afternoon and Harry asked if you wanted to come out and listen to his new cassette he got for his old Walkman he refused to get rid of as technology was evolving. You figured he’d want Debby there as well so you invited her along, but didn’t tell Harry. He never made a move on Debby and you thought he was just looking for the right time.

That afternoon, you were supposed to meet them out there at five, but you didn’t leave until half past five and it takes about twenty minutes to get out there. Though you gave them the alone time technically, it still startled you when you found them under one of the oak trees, Debby leaning her back against the tree as Harry stood in front of her. She was smiling up at him sweetly, saying something to him and you were just about to call out for them and apologize for being late when Harry ducked his head and kissed Debby right in front of your eyes.

That was your first and probably worst heartbreak and you were only twelve. You felt betrayed, hopeless and naïve to think Harry would ever have a thing for you when there were girls like Debby. You left without letting them know you were there. When Harry asked you later why you didn’t come you told him you felt sick to your stomach, which wasn’t a total lie, you had quite the nausea after seeing Harry with Debby, but he didn’t have to know all the details.

He later told you about kissing Debby and you pretended like you didn’t know about it. However they never dated and not long after their kiss Debby drifted away from the two of you. Not that you minded, you had a bitter feeling every time you had to look at her after that, jealousy raging in your chest knowing that she got Harry’s first kiss.

He didn’t bring it up after and you weren’t keen on talking about it, but you still know which tree they were standing under and now as you near the area you see that it still stands tall near the tiny stream.

Peeking up at Harry you see that his eyes are focused on the same tree, but then he catches you looking.

“Memories?” you innocently ask, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t even know why you asked. It’s been over a decade since that kiss, you are both adults, but you still can’t help the sadness that washes over you at just the thought, why would you want to get him talk about it now?

“’S just… that’s the tree I kissed Debby when I was twelve,” he mumbles with a shrug. Biting into your bottom lip you look at the old oak tree nodding your head and before you could stop yourself, you speak up.

“I know.”

“What? How would you? I never told you,” Harry asks stopping, a puzzled look pulling on his face.

“Well I… It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, regretting ever opening your mouth.

“It does. Tell me!” he pleads standing in front of you.

“I know it, because… I was here.”

“You what?”

“I came, I was just very late. And when I arrived you two were standing there and I saw you kiss. I thought I shouldn’t interrupt whatever was happening so I went home and let you two be,” you explain, changing it up a little bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why is it important that I saw it? It doesn’t change anything, right?” you ask with a smile that you intended to look innocent, but deep down it’s filled with pain.

Harry opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then remains silent and you are done talking about it, so you just quietly keep walking, Harry catching up with you a few moments later.

It’s awfully quiet after your revelation, it seems like Harry is deep in his thoughts and though you’re dying to know what’s occupying his bright thoughts, you’re kind of afraid you’d hear something you didn’t want to.

The two of you soon head back home and slowly, but you forget about the whole Debby thing. Harry starts talking again, but he looks a little keyed up still when you reach your street.

“Wanna come over later?” you ask standing on the pavement in front of your house, it’s just an innocent question. Harry nods his head.

“Sure. Is your mum working?” he asks glancing at the house, though he knows she is, the car is not on the driveway.

“Yeah. She’ll be home around six.”

He nods again and you want to ask if he is alright, but you decide not to. You share a quick hug before he heads over to his home and you do the same. The house waits for you in silence and when the door clicks behind you, it weighs down on you heavier than you were expecting. You hang your jacket, kick your boots off and throw yourself to the couch, covering your eyes with your arm as you huff out in frustration. You feel silly for getting upset about such a small thing even after so much time, but you just can’t help it.

You barely realize the sound of the front door opening, taking your arm off your eyes you see Harry walk in, eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his handsome face.

“Harry—“ “I was waiting for you that day,” he simply says as you sit up with wide eyes, confused about what he is really talking about.

“What?”

“That day, we agreed to meet out there to listen to my new Stevie Wonder cassette, but you didn’t show up, Debby did even though I didn’t invite her out there.”

“Well, I did, thought you wanted her there too,” you explain, startled by the situation.

“I would have invited her if I wanted her to be there, but I wanted to be with you. Only you.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you breathe out, not seeing where he is going with it.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he huffs and he is right. You don’t. “I wanted to meet you, but you never came, or at least I thought. Then Debby showed up, I was frustrated that you weren’t there and she was being all nice, telling me how cute I looked when I was worried and it all just happened so fast and… I didn’t even want to kiss her.” He looks properly upset telling you the story and he takes a deep breath before his eyes meet yours with a hard stare. “I wanted to be with you,” he repeats.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

He shakes his hair, not even letting you finish, because he knows what you wanted to say and that you still don’t understand the meaning behind his words.

“Y/N, I wanted to kiss you,” he then finally says and you suck on your breath as he continues. “Well, not right then and there, but I’ve been meaning to kiss you, I just didn’t know when. I thought that if we have a moment that afternoon I’d do it, but you never came and I was mad and disappointed. I hated myself for kissing Debby, because I didn’t really want to, it just… happened. I wanted to tell you, and I intended to do it when I told you we kissed, but you acted so happy, I figured you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did for you. So I didn’t tell you the rest, but…” He sighs in defeat, looking for words, but he ran out.

“Why are you telling this to me now?” you ask a little out of breath, your head feeling heavy at the new information you just heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw us and why did you go home without a word?” he asks ignoring your question.

“I… don’t—“

“Don’t try to lie.”

Gulping hard you lick your dried lips as you stare back at him.

“Because I was… jealous.” Your voice comes out only as a whisper. Harry’s lips part as he takes two steps closer to you.

“You had feelings for me?” he asks and you just nod your head, not trusting yourself with your voice. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

“I do,” you whisper your answer and Harry lets out a sharp breath as he leaps across the room in your way. You jump to your feet, thinking that he’ll lash out on your for keeping it a secret and you open your mouth to explain yourself, but you never get to speak up because as Harry reaches you, one hand snaps to the back of your neck, the other one to your waist, yanking you against him as his lips crash to yours.

You gasp in surprise, but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back, your numb mind blindly reacting to his sudden action. Your hands snake up to the back of his neck as you pull him closer, returning his hungry kisses. His soft lips feel so smooth and warm against yours and when his tongue runs along your bottom lip you whimper letting your tongues meet in the middle.

He is intoxicating and it doesn’t help that your adrenaline level is up in the sky, you’ve fantasized about it way too many times, and now that it’s happening your body is burning in flames. He kisses you all over and over again, his body pressing against yours hard and when he even leans in making you lean back, you lose balance and the two of you fall to the couch, both of you gasping as you are forced to part your lips.

“Fuck,” you chuckle as Harry is basically lying on you, holding himself up on his arms, but you feel him everywhere.

“’M sorry, I got a little carried away, but I’ve been dying to do this since forever,” he admits chuckling as he lifts his head and looks down at you with those bright green eyes of his.

“Really?” you breathe out, only slowly processing what’s really just happened.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you hiding behind your mum.”

“Idiot, you were just a kid, you weren’t in love,” you chuckle, running up your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the soft curls. He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Oh, I was, I just didn’t know it yet.” Leaning down he pecks your lips softly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. Though I was growing impatient these last few years.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“You can’t imagine,” he huffs shaking his head. I almost kissed you the other day in the kitchen, but Gemma completely ruined the moment.”

“I’m sorry I ran away, I was just—“ “No need to apologize. I guess it all played out well after all, right?” he smirks and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I guess,” you breathe out and the smile slowly fades from your lips. “And now what?” you ask quietly, staring up at him.

“Now… We’ll try to make things work. Test the waters. I’m very serious about this, Y/N,” he tells you. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life so I’m not gonna let go of you now.”

“You have no idea how happy this is making me,” you choke out feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh Love, please don’t cry,” he begs and leaning down he kisses your tears away. “I’m right here, with you. Sorry it took me so long you get here, but I’m here now.”

“I know,” you huff blinking away the tears as you pull him down and press your lips to his. “I love you, Harry,” you whisper against his perfect lips. You feel him exhale sharply as he keeps kissing you before he lifts his head so your eyes meet again.

“I’ve always loved you.”

 Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

[uwuwriting]

A little early for that w/ Todoroki, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: hii can i req a hc of todo, shinsou, and bakugou seeing y/n taking care of eri then they’ll be like “i want a baby with you” :D - anonymous

Don’t get me started on the latest BNHA chapter. I just don’t want to talk about it. I’ll try to make a double upload today so maybe expect a song fic after this one Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Todoroki Shoto 

-It was during Eri’s visit during christmas that it hit Todo. 

-You were dressed in a Santa costume just like everyone else with Eri gripping your hand as you took her around the room explaining all about Christmas celebrations. 

-It was a very mundane moment if you think about it. 

-You were being kind and caring to a child who had suffered immensely at the hands of Overhaul and you wanted to show her what the holiday was all about. 

-Now that he thinks of it, it shouldn’t have struck him like it did. 

-His chest became warm and fuzzy, his cheeks heating up a bit as he stared at you and Eri. 

-Then you kneeled down and brought Eri into a hug, raising her into the air so she could place an ornament on the class’s tree and it was game over for him. 

-He prides himself in being a rather collected person but at that moment he lost all sense of control over his emotions. 

-His mouth hung open and his chest started to squeeze, knocking the breath out of him. 

-He couldn’t help the thoughts of the both of  you owning a house somewhere not very far from Tokyo, waking up to you every morning , making breakfast with you and enjoying all the moments you shared. 

-Then other images flooded his mind. 

-Sitting in the living room as you steadied your toddler, a perfect mix of the two of you, helping them waddle towards him. 

-Him helping them place the ornament at the very top of your Christmas tree every time you decorated.

-He could see your smile so vividly he almost thought it was real. 

-It was a ridiculous thought for a 16 year old to have and he knew it but in that moment he let himself imagine it. 

-Before he knew it you were standing next to him, Eri running off to Aizawa excited to share what she just learned about christmas,  arms crossed over your chest as you let out a happy sigh. 

- “My santa work is done for the day.”

- “You would make a great mom” 

- *pikachu meme*

-He sensed your confusion *and so did your dead ancestors*

- “I want to be next to you when that happens.” 

-Girl you got whiplash from this whole conversation. 

-You couldn’t decide if you were soft and giddy since he basically said that he wants to start a family with you or if you were terrified because he said he wants to start A FAMILY WITH YOU WHEN YOU’RE BARELY 16. 

-In his defense he didn’t say he wanted to start now. 

-So you kinda calmed down. 

- “I-um thank you Sho. I think you would make a great father too.”

-Blushy blushy baby after that one. 

-Some denial sprinkled on top because trauma but blushy blushy boy. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Okay now third year Shinsou is a stressed Shinsou. 

-A third year you is a stressed you. 

-And a field day with your now ten year old somewhat trauma free adopted by your homeroom teacher child was what you both needed. 

-Shinsou is like a big brother to Eri at this point. 

-He has babysat her one too many times to not be considered at least a stable figure in her life. 

-You had decided to take a stroll in the park, the autumn air and all the pretty leaves making it a sight to behold. 

-Plus it had a pond with ducks. 

-And you love ducks. 

-Shinsou had brought some bread crumbs so you could feed them and that’s what you were doing when it hit him. 

-That weird domesticity. 

-You were crouched down on Eri’s height, one arm wrapped securely around her small waist so she wouldn’t fall into the pond and the other was outstretched with a piece of bread, motioning to the ducks to approach you. 

-It was a nice scene, picture perfect if you asked him and it did something to his heart strings. 

-Just like Todo he imagined walking home with you after a tiring day at your agency, your hands intertwined, matching golden bands circling your ring fingers. 

-He imagined a little Y/N being next to you and not Eri. 

-Vibrant purple hair sticking out at every which direction as they would throw bread at the ducks maybe even calling him over when one got too close. 

-He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed you standing in front of him, waving your hand over his eyes so you could get his attention. 

- “Earth to Toshi!” 

-You giggled when he shook his head, his eyes wide as he stared at your smiling features. 

- “Eri is hungry-” “You are hungry Y/N-chan!!!” “- and she wanted to go get some good old onigiri from that new shop that opened down the street.” “Lies…”

-You side-eyed the little girl who outed you, her own eyes staring right back in accusation as you let out a sigh saying under your breath “I’m hungry”

-He couldn’t control his laughter as it bubbled from his lips, ruffling Eri’s hair while giving you a kiss on the lips as he circled his arm around your waist and took Eri’s with his other one. 

- “Can’t say no to my girls now, can I?” 

-It was later that night when he voiced his thoughts. 

-You were asleep in his dorm, laying basically on him with your head tucked in his neck as you breathed evenly. 

- “It’s a little early to think of kids but I can’t wait to have one with you.” 

-And with that he fell asleep his dreams being filled with images of you.

Bakugou Katsuki 

-You managed to get him to say that???

-Mister tough as balls?

-Mister imma roundhouse kick you if you look at me with affection in your eyes?

-Someone get this girl a medal. 

-But in all seriousness it was a very motherly move. 

-You were in your second year, the events of the war with the villains still haunting all of you so everyone was keeping an eye on their loved ones and their classmates. 

-Bakugou was no exception .

-Seeing people getting hurt severely, seeing himself so defeated and hurt during those battles had rattled him and he would always linger close to you, a slight paranoia having taken his place in his heart the past few months. 

-You understood why he did it, why he hovered next to you most of the time and if you were being honest it didn’t really bother you * except from that one time you went to the bathroom and he called you three times in a row bc he couldn’t see you and panicked*

-Eri was running around with Kaminari and Sero, the three of them playing tag with the one brain cell they all shared at the moment. 

-Suddenly, Eri tripped and fell, scraping her knee on the pavement, small tears forming in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. 

-In a flash you were next to her, a hand massaging her knee around the area of the wound while the other one was cupping her cheek, your thumb making small circles on the girl’s cheekbones. 

- “It’s just a scratch. See? It’s not that bad.”

-Bakugou was just staring at the scene unfolding in front of him, his immediate thoughts being that you looked so motherly in that moment. 

-The concern and the reassurance reminded him of his mother when she would calm him down after he got hurt, before she became a pain in the ass *as he likes to say*.

-Without him even realizing it he made a mental image of your shared family. 

-A house in the outskirts, with a yard, maybe a dog running around. 

-But most importantly a little demon that looked like you, climbing onto your shared bed on his day off, nestling in between you two as it went back asleep.

-You making breakfast while having them in your arms. 

-He really wished he could see that now. 

-But he’s a little young and you wouldn’t really like having a baby before finishing high school sooo he kinda buried it. 

-He told you about it when you both were in his dorm getting ready for a movie night. 

-It was a more aggressive approach but you got the point of his little rant. 

- “I want to spend my life with you too Katsu.” 

- “SHUT UP SHITTY WOMAN!”

- “OI!”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @wolfkid22​ @letscheereachotheron​ @ezoyscorner​ @luluwiie​ @threeamwriting​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​

[writingmyanxietyaway]

Triangles | Rio - Berlin

Requested by anon:  Hi! Love your blog btw. Would you mind doing an rio x reader x berlin imagine, where tge reader is tge same age as rio and tgey have a thing going on and berlin lijes the reader and is jealous. Reader is park of the team and plays hostage. And when they have to undress to their clothes berlin cames uo to reader and orders her to do so. And rio is like super angry, but can't do anything avout it to not reveal their relationship and the fact that reader works with them. Thank you.

Word count: 1.5k

Warning: swearing, angst, mention of blood

Note: hi! thank you so much! i hope this is what you meant! hope you like it, enjoy! x

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

‘Vienna, 2 minutes out,’ you heard over your ear piece. You were part of the heist, yet your role was to be a random stranger amongst the other hostages. Every detail, every escape plan, every weapon was discussed with you in the room. El Profesor was aware of the risks only one brave hostage could bring, so you were there to keep things cool if things went sideways.

You were also Rio’s girlfriend. You two had been dating since the start of that year, when you met at a convention for technology. When you met you two hit off immediately and had been dating ever since. Little did you know you’d both be asked to do this job, unknowing of the other. But things got a little complicated when Berlin came into the view. You two had had a love affair a couple of years back, but when you parted ways you promised never to talk about it again.

You glanced around and saw your watch counting down the last minute. You were nervous, excited and a little hesitant all at the same time. You wanted to be part of the action, not sit on the floor for six days, but here you were.

When you heard loads of commotion coming towards you, you felt your heartbeat pick up. It was happening. You saw the red suits come into view and you smirked. Guns were held in the air and screams filled the entrance - the alarms loudly ringing in the background. You stepped back a little, wanting to see your boyfriend one last time before you went to the others. You saw one of them approach you and he quickly lifted his mask to kiss you one last time.

‘Promise you’ll be careful?’ you whispered against his lips. He nodded and smiled at you, placing a hand on your cheek.

‘Always, sugar.’

He pulled you away from behind the stairs but not before pulling his mask back on. You saw Berlin burn holes in your head from the side of the stairs. Was he jealous? As you focussed on your role, you trashed in his grip, playing your role as an innocent visitor. He shoved you to all the other hostages and joined Berlin and Tokio. You faked a few tears here and there and tried to mingle with the others. Some of them were crying, some of them were in complete shock and unable to do anything. You felt slightly bad about traumatising them so badly, but you knew the plan and that was to leave without harming anyone.

-

It was now a couple of hours later and you noticed they had brought out the red suits, boots and masks. Berlin did his intimidating little talk and you all got a suit. You didn’t want to change in front of him, in front of anyone for that matter. The only man you ever wanted to see your body was Rio. You were a tough girl, but changing in front of people always made you anxious. You caught Rio’s eye when he stood on the stairs, but when Berlin moved in your direction you couldn’t help but desert your attention to him. He stopped in front of you, smirk plastered on his face.

‘Change into your suit, woman,’ he dared. You hated that smirk. What you did all those years ago was a mistake and you were contstantly reminded of that night in your sleep.

‘No,’ you stated, ‘Not here.’

‘Oh, we’ve got ourselves a brave girl on board! Hear that everyone?! This one here thinks she can do whatever she pleases.’ He took his gun and pointed it directly to your stomach. Your stare hardened. Who the fuck did this man think he was?

From the corner of your eye, you saw Rio step forward but Denver quickly held him back. He whispered something in his ear and he turned around.

‘Strip. Now.’ Berlin demanded. You knew you had to, that was the worst part. Being the only one of the hostages not wanting to wear a suit and not get shot would definitely get suspicious. You angrily took of your jacket, your jeans and changed into the suit. You felt embarassed, weak and insecure. That was a dick move and he knew it.

He stepped closer to you when you were done and whispered in your ear, ‘That’s the good girl I know. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, is it?’

You gagged at his words and he quickly disappeared up the stairs. Denver nodded at you and clapped Rio on the back. It had been such a long time since you had felt so vulnerable and for no good reason Berlin kicked you right back to that time. You had to talk to Rio. And quickly.

-

You were chosen to work in the offices and count the money. Nairobi was the supervisor. It had been more than three days since you had seen Rio and you had to talk to him. When Nairobi passed you, you dropped a wad of cash on the floor and leaned over, catching her attention.

‘I don’t feel good.. Can I please use the restroom?’ you asked her, raising your eyebrows. She nodded and grabbed you by the arm, not before threatening the other women you were working with.

‘I really need to talk to Rio. Please, Nairobi,’ you begged. She quickly nodded and went to get Rio. Pacing back and forth, you anxiously bit your nails. When the door opened, your heart dropped to the floor.

‘What did they do to you?’ you gasped, running towards him. You held his head in your hands as you inspected his face. He had a bruise on his cheek and a black eye. ‘Please tell me who did this to you, Ani.’

He looked at you through his lashes and winced when you stroked your thumb over his bruise. He looked completely broken, bags under his eyes and shrunken posture.

‘It was Berlin, wasn’t it?’ you asked. You didn’t even have to ask, you already knew. That bastard couldn’t let you go, could he? You huffed and pushed passed Rio. ‘Wait here.’

Berlin was eating when you stomped through the door. He didn’t notice you at first, but when you smacked your hand on the table, everyones attention went to you.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure, sweetheart?’ he smuggly asked.

‘You know exactly why. What the fuck were you thinking? Smashing his face in, just because you can’t let something go that happened years ago? How old are you? 10?’ you sneered. ‘If you’re jealous, just say that. But hurting someone else because you can’t talk about your feelings is fucking ridiculous.’

The room fell silent, your speech even silencing Denver. They didn’t know you had met before the heist and especially about your relationship. You saw his tough façade fade as his eyes flickered from your furious face to the sandwich he was eating. He knew it was wrong and he regret it the moment he saw how broken Rio was. The young adult was terrified and it made him realise he had turned into the man he promised not to be anymore.

‘You seriously don’t have anything to say about this?’ you huffed. ‘You haven’t changed a fucking bit, Andrès. Stay the fuck away from me and Rio or you’ll end up just like him.’

When you left, Berlin felt humiliated. Not that you’d called him out like that, but humiliated to have let his anger take over his common sense. You had every right to respond the way you did, he would have done the same for you. Why did he feel so jealous? He was the one who broke things off, not you. He’d thrown you away like many of his other treasures, yet he couldn’t let you go. Rio was way better for you. He treated you like a princess, talked to you about his feelings and could give you a much better life than he could have given you.

‘So, wanna explain what the fuck just happened?’ Denver carefully asked. Berlin cracked his knuckled and took a sharp breath. They weren’t supposed to know and frankly, it was none of their business either. So he shoved his chair back and went looking for the both of you. The least you deserved was an apology.

‘- a dick.. he won’t do it again, I’ll make sure of that,’ he heard you say soflty. Rio hissed when you wiped away a small drop of blood just under his eye and you remorsefully sighed. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you.’

‘No, I’m the one who should apologise,’ Berlin stated, stepping into the room. He could see Rio flinch and your stare harden. ‘I’m sorry. I let my anger cloud my reality and I snapped. There was a point where I was you Rio and I regret to this day that I let her go. I got jealous because I realised she was everything that I needed and more, but I saw that too late. I was immature and for that I want to apologise.’

Your eyes softened and you thankfully nodded at him. You turned your attention to Rio who held out his hand to Berlin. Berlin took it and shook his hand firmly.

‘Don’t let her go, Rio. She’s too precious for that.’

.. .. .. .. ..

Berlin Taglist

@nkjktk​ - @michaellangdonenthusiast​ - @hamiltonsofcrap - @nicke0115​ - @pinkrapunzel

[shinidamachu]

I need some Inuyasha as a great father (more like DILF, amirite?) headcanons, can you help me out?

I'm here to serve!

• It isn’t until they’re happily married for at least one or two years that the possibility of children are brought up.

• At first, they took that time to relearn each other, enjoy their company and make the honeymoon phase last a little long. They did spend three years apart, after all. There’s so much time to make up for, so many catching up to do before they’d even think to throw a kid into the mix. Plus, being a modern woman, Kagome would know how to avoid pregnancy the best her new circumstances allowed and how important that time alone is for a newly-married couple.

• They never actually had the child talk because Kagome just assumed that’s where their relationship would naturally lead to, given her motherly tendencies and Inuyasha’s history of ultimately giving her everything she wants. For his part, Inuyasha knew she wanted to be a mother someday and he'd be lying if he said he never indulged the fantasy of fathering her children. However, he has serious trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that, in reality, Kagome would still be up for it if he were to be the father. He could never dare to ask of her more than she has already given him. Be that as it may, it was not a big deal because it was not a dealbreaker. Nothing was.

• But with time, Kagome would have noticed how good Inuyasha is with Hisui and the Mirsan twins. How his relationship with Shippo had developed from a sibling banter to a makeshift paternal relationship. How people like Shiori and Bunza would look up to him like he was some kind of movie hero. How every kid in the village seemed to adore him despite his grumpy demeanor.

• And Inuyasha would have noticed the way Kagome would look at him whenever he so much as interacted with a child, the way her smell would spike significantly.

• She, of course, was the one to make the first move, jumping him one night, after they had spend the whole day stuck with babysitting the Mirsan children and popping the question.

• Inuyasha was relutant. There was a part of him that was adamant on making her happy and even believed having babies would make him happy too. On the other hand, he was terrified. Terrified of how her body would react to childbirth, of if her spiritual powers would accept his demonic energy. But mostly, about what would happen once the baby was born. The last thing he wanted was for Kagome to go through everything his mother had to go through. Or for another kid to face the same prejudice he did. Besides, he grew up with no father figure whose steps he could follow. He didn’t know how to be a father.

• Kagome assures him that they won’t have a baby until they’re both ready and on the same page, that they have time and that Inuyasha will be a great father.

• Inuyasha believes her.

• Then it is him felling some type of way whenever he sees Kagome around kids. And something deep inside desperately wishes to find out what would their children look like, what would it be like to hold and take care of someone born from their love.

• Finally, he caves.

• Inuyasha wants a big family, considering how lonely his childhood was. Kagome finds it pivotal for their first-born to have a sibling, since she had Sota and their relationship was one of the most important things in her life. That’s why they’d have two children minimum, preferably a boy and a girl. However, giving how dangerous and uncomfortable childbirth can be, especially without the perks the modern era provides, I don’t think they’d have more than three.

• Naturally, Inuyasha relies on Miroku for advice and the latter is more helpful than not. Except for the times Inuyasha asks or says something that makes it way too easy for Miroku to mess with him. Like the time he told Inuyasha that if he doesn’t get Kagome whatever food she craves while pregnant, the baby will be born looking exactly like that food. And Inuyasha believed him.

• And if you thought Inuyasha was protective of Kagome before... oh boy! He’d be almost overbearing, but Kagome would see it as endearing. Most of the time. Sometimes, though, a woman has got to have her privacy. He also becomes more attentive, more gentle, sweeter.

• After their first child is born, Inuyasha gets a makeover of sorts. He’s always borrowing the Fire Rat to Kagome and the baby anyway, so he figured it’d be more practical to just pass the clothes on to them already and get something new for himself.

• It’s white.

• Inuyasha becomes taller, stronger. And often lets Kagome experiment with his hair with braids, top nots... and ponytails.

• Old Myoga is the first one to notice the resemblance. And it’s true. He’s the spitting image of Toga. Former enemies and allies often mistaken him for Toga and Kagome thinks the look on their (and Inuyasha’s) face is hilarious.

• Sesshoumaru does not care for it (I stole this one from @heavenin--hell).

• Inuyasha hates his human nights even more because now his vulnerability also means he might not be able to protect his family as he usually would (Together Changed by @goshinote and @lostinfantasyworlds inspired this one). Plus, the black hair and lack of dog ears confuses the baby, who cries and fusses for a good while until realizing it is, in fact, Inuyasha holding them (this one I saw in an adorable fanart I can’t find).

• But since he needs way less sleeping than humans and he spends the New Moons up anyway, Inuyasha gets a lot of quality time with their infant at night, which allows Kagome to actually get a good night sleep unless the baby is hungry.

• The Beads of Subjugation get dooled and chewed on. A lot.

• A little contest takes place between Kagome and Inuyasha about what the first word of their first child would be, with Kagome going for “dada” and Inuyasha going for “mama.”

• Kagome wins.

• Inuyasha’s fighting style changes. He still says some snarky remarks, but now it’s more to push his opponent‘s buttons down so they would get sloppy than anything else. After all, he has a child to think about and provide for now. He doesn’t have the luxury of gambling with his life anymore. He has a home to come back to and therefore won’t be taking any chances (credit to @born-for-eachother for this one).

• And so he becomes more lethal on the battle field. Pragmatic. Objective. Calculating. Decisive. Cold blooded. Much like... Sesshomaru.

• He had never been more offended on his life than the day Sango pointed this out to him.

• When the kids grow up a bit, Inuyasha and Kagome start to tell them bedtime stories, with the PG version of the story about how the met and defeated Naraku being their favorite.

• Kagome tries to be a reliable and calm narrator while Inuyasha exaggerates the events and the voices, almost always breaking objects of their house in the process.

• After hearing one too many times about the Beads of Subjugation, their child tries to “sit” Inuyasha. Of course it doesn’t work, but he still makes a big deal out of throwing himself on the ground every time they say the word just to hear them laugh.

• The first actual toy Inuyasha buys them is a ball, just like the one he had as a kid, at the same time accomplishing a childhood wish through them and ensuring that they would always have someone to play with.

• Kagome is more protective of their physical state while Inuyasha is more protective of their emotional one (see Fist Fight by @omgitscharlie)

• Inuyasha goes to Totosai and asks him to make a weapon out of one of his fangs to each of their children once they get old enough for it. Not necessarily a sword, just something of their choice and that better fits their personality.

• He would be a just father, doing his best to show no favoritism, treat his children equally and make sure no one felt overlooked or unloved.

• But truth be told, if one of their babies turn out to be a daughter, he would definitelly let her get away with almost anything, no matter how much of a gremlin she is. Daddy’s little girl would have him wrapped around her tiny fingers.

• Life never treated Inuyasha kindly. From a very young age, it was kill or be killed. It wouldn't be too far off for him to think the exact same thing could happen with his kids, therefore he tries to prepare them, to tough them up so they can take it.

• And I believe this sentiment would be significantly amplified with a son, because it would involve the whole “suck it up”, “men don’t cry” and “man of the house” aspect of it. The “it is your duty to protect your mother and sister when I’m gone” too, especially because he couldn’t protect Izayoi himself.

• It’s “tough love”, but it’s love nonetheless. And in the right dose, which I believe Inuyasha manages to nail, it can be very important for one’s development and growth.

• But it’s hard to imagine him being as tough with a daughter. Probably because he sees so much of Kagome on her that the mere idea of seeing her cry simply breaks him.

• Kagome would actually have to step in when it comes to disciplining and saying “no”, because he simply wouldn’t have it in him to do so.

There’s actually a really nice post by @keichanz I reblogged a while ago discussing precisely that, but I can’t find it to save my life (should I start to properly tag my reblogs? No, it’s a lot of work and I’m right not to).

Anyway, that’s all I got for now.

Peace out.

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

stolen glances, stolen cauldrons

To kick off the final week of the fest, we have the rarest of pairs, brought to you by @lanaturnergetup - the saying ‘opposites attract’ has never been more true than in the case of Madam Rosmerta and Mundungus Fletcher! Read it below or on ao3 here

username: lanaturnergetup pairing: mundungus fletcher/madame rosmerta warnings: none summary: As with most bad experiences in her life, Madam Rosmerta would find that her affair with Mundungus ‘Dung’ Fletcher started out with too much to drink. (or: the Dungmerta story.)

As with most bad experiences in her life, Madam Rosmerta would find that her affair with Mundungus ‘Dung’ Fletcher started out with too much to drink. 

Rosmerta had a clear idea of what she wanted to do with her life: it was why she left Hogwarts right after taking her NEWTs (Transfiguration, Charms, and Arithmancy) and went straight next door to Hogsmeade, where she asked the grumpy barman at The Three Broomsticks for a job.

“I don’t need an assistant,” he’d said.

“I’m not offering to assist you,” Rosmerta said, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I’m offering to be your colleague. Your… partner.” 

“It’s not a very womanly thing, is it? Running a pub?” he had said. The way his gaze had lingered over her curvy body made Rosmerta force back a groan.

“Perhaps this place could use a womanly touch,” she had said sweetly.

He had gotten flustered and said… “Well… I’ll think about it.” 

She had come back the next day, and the next one, and then had finally been hired. It’d been very bad pay, at first – five Galleons an hour, working every day – but by the time she was thirty, old John had retired and left the pub to her able care.

And it was able. The Three Broomsticks flourished under her care over the next few months, turning into a spot where both Hogwarts students and other wizards – residents of Hogsmeade and visitors alike – felt warm, safe, and comfortable.

Or at least they had felt warm, safe, and comfortable, until one day when a sopping wet man came bursting into the pub, stepped up to the bar, holding two suspicious-looking sacks, and announced, “It’s bleeding wet out there, it is.” 

Rosmerta narrowed her eyes. “It is raining, yes,” she said.

“Yeah, fucking pouring, innit,” said the man. “Could I get a drink? Something warm. Firewhiskey, if you have it.” And then, taking a good look at her, said, “Oh, hello. You’re new. John’s gone, is he?” 

Rosmerta prided herself on her customer service. Everyone who was at her pub felt welcome, and that was because she did not let any signs of her judgement or anything less than politeness show on her face. However, something about this man set her off, and made her feel anything but friendly. “He’s been gone for a few months. Retired,” she said. “And I’ve been working with him for many years now.” 

“Guess I didn’t see you. You’re usually in the back then, are ya? I’m Mundungus,” he said. 

Mundungus couldn’t have been older than his early twenties, which would explain why Rosmerta didn’t recognise him from Hogwarts. After over ten years of working at the pub, Rosmerta knew how to spot a dodgy sort. And Mundungus, with his shifty expression, lanky hair, and eager eyes, was undeniably dodgy.

Usually, she would serve him one drink and then (politely) ask him to leave if it made the other patrons uncomfortable. Instead, she did something that, later on, she would never come to regret.

She smiled at him. 

Rosmerta was many things: a barmaid, a businesswoman, someone who nearly failed her Care of Magical Creatures OWL because she was terrified of a Niffler. But one thing she wasn’t was falsely modest: she knew she was not an unattractive woman, and she knew the effect that her smile tended to have on the male population – and, on a few notable occasions, the female population, too. 

So she should have known the mistake she was making when she smiled at Mundungus. 

“I’m Rosmerta,” she said. 

One thing led to another, as things seldom ever did for Rosmerta. She had been with her fair share of men before – and a few people of other genders for good measures – but never like this, never this suddenly. One minute, Mundungus – “Call me Dung” – was staying for a second drink, and then a third, all the way up until closing time, and the next minute, they were giggling tipsily to each other as she led him to her rooms above the pub.

The next morning, once the remnants of the mead had faded, Rosmerta felt less kindly towards Mundungus; especially when she woke up to an empty bed and no trace of Dung anywhere. 

That was that, for a while. She didn’t see him for several months and Rosmerta chalked it up as just another encounter – perhaps more spontaneous than her other romantic encounters had been, and more drunken, but nothing special nonetheless. She would later think of that, their first meeting, as less like another encounter and more like a bad idea, one that she would later regret, one that eventually ended up with Mundungus Fletcher being one of seven people banned – for life – from The Three Broomsticks. 

She next saw him six months later. It was raining again when he walked in. She was beginning to associate rain with him; she never knew when either of them would arrive and ruin a perfectly good day. 

“What can I get you?” she greeted him, when he loped up to the counter.

“Ah, come on, Rosie,” Dung said, “don’t greet me like I’m a stranger.” 

She levelled him with her best unimpressed look. “Firewhiskey?” she said. 

Dung grinned. Not a shifty smile – which Rosmerta was already beginning to recognise as his usual smile – but something softer. “You remember,” he said.

Rosmerta rolled her eyes. “I remember all my customers’ orders,” she said. This was one of the many things that made her – in her own unbiased opinion – very good at her job, and the best barmaid The Three Broomsticks had ever seen.

“Still,” Dung said. “You remembered mine. S’special, innit.” 

Rosmerta took one look at him and knew two things with certainty: 

One, that this was one of the most ridiculous men she had ever met.

Two, that he would definitely end up in her bed by the end of the night. 

She was proven to be right. Much like last time, Dung stayed on until the closing time of the pub, not moving from his seat even when Rosmerta had to all but physically kick out a hag who was vastly overstaying her welcome. 

When she finally flipped the sign on the door to ‘closed’, she turned to see Dung looking at her, grinning lasciviously. “What?” she said.

“Nothin’,” Mundungus said. “You didn’t kick me out, is all.” 

“Yes, well,” Rosmerta said waspishly. “I knew you’d refuse to leave.” 

“You’re a smart woman,” Mundungus said, and before she could respond, he was kissing her, his sweaty hands on the small of her waist, and there wasn’t much she could say.

This cycle went on for longer than Rosmerta cared to admit. For the next… Merlin, it was years. For the next few years, it followed the same pattern. Rosmerta never sought Dung out, but he would arrive in her pub every so often, like a rotten penny. He’d stay till closing hours, tell her stories about his ‘business dealings’, as he called them, and then sneak his way up to her place with her. Always with the same shifty smile, as if he couldn’t quite believe what they were doing.

(Rosmerta couldn’t, either.)

Perhaps it would have gone on like that in perpetuity, and they would have remained two ships that passed – and fucked – in the night every now and then, if it weren’t for the incident. 

It happened during a particularly rainy day. Miserable even by Scotland standards, the sort of day when it poured and poured outside and there wasn’t so much as a single spec of sunshine in the grey sky. 

It was a particularly miserable day. Since it was a Wednesday, and not a Hogsmeade weekend for the students of Hogwarts, today’s clientele skewed old, and they skewed grumpy. Rosmerta had to admit that she was feeling grumpy as well. Being a barmaid wasn’t easy when all your customers were grumpy idiots, and the weather outside was certainly not helping.

Of course, it was then, at the most inopportune moment, that Mundungus Fletcher strolled in, wearing pale green robes and carrying a suspiciously heavy sack. He walked up to the counter, gave Rosmerta his now-familiar shifty grin, and said, “Pint, please.” 

“What’s in the sack?” Rosmerta said. She recognised the differences in her own tone: cutting, on edge, as opposed to flirtatious or anything close to banter.

“Well – there were these cauldrons, see,” Mundungus said. “I nicked them off Warty Harris – but really, he stole them from old Sid first, so I–”

“Do you mean to tell me,” Rosmerta said, slamming the pint glass down with more force than was necessary, “that you’re bringing stolen goods into my pub?” 

Mundungus looked even shiftier than usual. “They’re not exactly stolen, Rosie–”

“Don’t call me that,” Rosmerta said coldly. “You can’t bring that in here, Dung.” 

Mundungus looked hurt. “Well,” he said, sitting up. He took a long sip from his pint, and then set the glass down. Rosmerta couldn’t help but notice how the liquid sloshed over the rim of the glass, onto her freshly cleaned counter. Everything Mundungus did seemed to be annoying her today, setting her off. “You’re in a mood today, aren’t ya?” 

“You could get in trouble,” Rosmerta said. “And so could I. This pub’s important to me, and if you get arrested–”

“Oh, lighten up, won’t you?!” Mundungus said, standing up. “I wouldn’t have ever gotten involved with you if I’d have known you were so fuckin’ uptight sometimes, and –”

That was loud enough that the pub seemed to hear it, and the way everyone in the vicinity turned their heads around, the way they looked at her – 

Something inside Rosmerta snapped, and it was then that she knew, beyond a shadow of any reasonable doubt, that sleeping with Mundungus Fletcher had been a grievous mistake. Why had she ever thought it was a good idea? Why had she indulged herself? It had started with a drink but it had led to this, to everyone in her pub hearing Mundungus Fletcher announce loudly – so loudly – that they had been involved. It was the most humiliating experience of her life, and she realised that it was over, that she couldn’t make this mistake, ever again.

“Get out,” she said, very quietly. “Get out of here. Take your cauldrons, take your useless self, and leave. You’re not welcome here anymore.” 

From then on, she had two rules: whenever Mundungus Fletcher walked in, she had someone else serve him, and, more importantly: no fraternising with customers, and absolutely no fraternising with Dung. Not now, not ever.

So that was that. 

***

Mundungus ‘Dung’ Fletcher had no idea where things had gone wrong with Rosmerta. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, but her moods were more mercurial and ever-changing than the bleeding ocean, in his opinion.

They had a good thing going, or so he thought. Every now and then, when the Leaky Cauldron wasn’t cutting it, and he didn’t dare risk the Hog’s Head, he’d go to the Three Broomsticks. She knew him; she knew his drink preferences and that he always liked to sit at the counter to be close to her, she was on the same page as him. She understood him.

When he first met her, properly met her, he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, though – although she was, with her curves and quick smile – it was that she was magnetic. 

Which was why he had tried his luck with her, the first time. Why he kept going back to her pub. Why he had been so excited to show her the cauldrons – and it really had been a good story, about Warty Harris and Sid and how he had come into possessions of cauldrons of dubious legality. 

But… never mind, then. That was that. He wouldn’t be welcome there anymore, that was for sure, so he would stick to London for now.  Tom at the Leaky Cauldron never bothered him. Tom never got on his case about any products – which were all part of his business, thank you very much – that he happened to smuggle in.

But Tom also didn’t have the sparkle in his eyes that Rosmerta did. He didn’t make Mundungus feel alive.

Over the next few weeks, Mundungus tried his best. Really, he did. He stayed in England, conducting all his business dealings from London. He stayed away from Hogsmeade. Go, she had said. Go, and don’t come back. He wasn’t welcome there, so who was he to protest? 

The next few weeks went on like that. He tried not to think about her, about how the thick bottoms of the cauldrons he dealt with reminded him of her, of how the sunshine glinting on the silver goblets collecting dust in his flat (he was waiting for a good buyer, see) reminded him of the glint in her eyes, how she was so sharp and witty and always seemed to know what to say, how she just had to sniff a bottle of Firewhiskey to know the year it was produced. 

And now he didn’t know how he could show his face around her – which was maybe what she wanted.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her, though. He couldn’t stop missing her. She had always been too good for him. She was bright and shiny in all the places he was rusted and broken and wonky. She was smart where he was dim. She had her pub, the love of every person in Hogsmeade. All he had was his business – which, to be fair, was flourishing – and the odd errand he ran for Dumbledore. 

“You’re not allowed in here,” Aberforth told him, when he walked into the Hog’s Head an indeterminate amount of days later.

“I’ll go soon,” Dung told him. “I’m meeting Dumbledore here, Ab.” 

Aberforth grunted. “One hour,” he said. “And then I’ll throw you out, if I have to.” 

Mundungus sighed. He was used to being kicked out of pubs by now. Hogsmeade, in particular, was getting him very used to it. 

One hour later, Albus Dumbledore, setting his glass of wine down, said, “Do you think you will find yourself capable of the task?”

Mundungus, who hadn’t been paying too much attention – he thought the mission was something about Mad-Eye Moody, but he wasn’t too sure – said, “Oh, er. Yeah, I reckon so.” 

“Is everything alright?” Dumbledore asked, oddly kind in the way that only Dumbledore was, in the way that always had Mundungus agree to missions that scared the living daylights out of him. 

“Yeah,” Mundungus said. “Yeah, sorry. Everything’s fine.” 

“If perhaps I could be of assistance…” 

“It’s really okay, Professor,” Mundungus said. He hadn’t been at Hogwarts for years, but he’d never fallen out of the habit of calling him that. It was probably because Dumbledore terrified him almost as much as the missions he sent him on did. 

“Then we will meet soon,” Dumbledore said, getting to his feet in a sweeping motion of magenta robes. 

Mundungus stood up as well, and nodded. “Alright, Professor,” he said. Hopefully he would remember the mission by then, but for now, he had more pressing concerns on his mind.

“I will not keep you here any longer,” Dumbledore continued. “I have business here with the barman.”

Mundungus recognised the dismissal for what it was, and stood up. He had had three Firewhiskeys and nothing to eat, so he was light-headed and his feet seemed to move with no real input from his brain. He stumbled out of the Hog’s Head, and then started to walk down the road.

It was getting dark outside; winter was approaching, and the sun set earlier and earlier these days. It was a quiet day, so the Three Broomsticks wasn’t too full, but he circumvented the main entrance and went to the back, to the staff entrance that Rosie had showed him months ago – was it last year? He wasn’t sure.

Rosmerta met him at the door. She was holding a crate of Butterbeer and, upon the sight of Mundungus, dropped it on his foot.

“Ow,” he said, sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

“I told you not to come here again,” she said. She sounded stern, much like she always did to him.

“I missed you,” Dung said plaintively. “Rosie, I don’t know what I did wrong, but–”

He had been thinking about it. He didn’t know where it went wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have… done whatever it was he did that annoyed her. Bring his cauldrons into the pub? Bring up the fact that they were… whatever they were? 

“You don’t know what was wrong about bringing stolen goods to my pub and then embarrassing me in front of my clientele?” Rosmerta hissed.

Mundungus grinned. So he’d been right about what had upset her. She was ashamed of him. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. 

“Don’t smile at me in that gormless way,” Rosmerta said.

“No, it’s just – well, now I know,” Mundungus said. 

“Now you know what, precisely?”

“What I did wrong!” Mundungus said. “And I won’t do it again.”

“Which bit won’t you do again?” Rosmerta said. She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him, somehow still managing to be the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

“Any of it,” Dung said. “All of it. Whatever you say. Just… I can’t stop thinking about you. Let me make it up to you, come on.” 

Rosmerta looked at him for a moment. “If I let you in,” she said, “no one can ever know. What goes on between us. You can never announce it like that again.” 

“I won’t tell anyone–”

“And you cannot bring any of your shit in here again,” she said.

“I won’t,” Mundungus said immediately.

Rosmerta looked at him for a long moment, and then visibly deflated. With a long, drawn-out sigh, she uncrossed her arms. “Okay, then,” she said. “You can come in.”

And Mundungus, his cheeks aching from how much he was smiling, went in.