#i am not happy with the outcome i just needed this gone of my desk tbh

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

It Was Just A Dream... Chapter Two

Summary: Frankie is all moved in, or is he? A cute game of cat and mouse has an ending you wouldn’t expect, Frankie’s mood swings end with an outcome neither of them expected.  Words: 5,000+ Rating: 18+ Adult Themes Warnings/Triggers:  Addiction, Falling for Your Brothers Friend, Language, OFC is somewhat described as someone with longer hair, but no race/eye color/body type  

A/N: I don’t know much about addiction, just the things that I googled and seen portrayed on TV. This is completely an AU. I had the beginning of this story pop in my head randomly and thought it sounded fun to explore. Sure we all love Frankie was that sweet puppy dog…but what if he had his own inner demons he had to battle with.  The ‘coke charge’ was mentioned in TF and I kinda wanted to explore that side of him. 

**This is written asa  first person, and it's my first time writing in first person, so please be gentle with me. I also include Frankie's POV which will be Bold and Italics

It took two days, four, well three and a half strong men moved all of Frankie’s stuff. My house might be small, but the best part. Despite only having two bedrooms, the bedrooms are huge. The guest room is slightly smaller than my master and there isn’t an attached bathroom but still plenty is space for his stuff. I kept the small desk there, well honestly that was the only thing I had there. Five years of living here and my guest room was still empty. Mostly why I think Benny volunteered my space, I was also someone he knew. All of Frankie’s belongings were still in taped boxes. We didn’t know how long Benny was going to be gone, it made sense to bring more than just a duffle bag of stuff. 

It's been two weeks since he had moved in, his clothes still in boxes, extra bedding still in boxes. He’s been wearing the same gray sweatpants and black shirt since he got here. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a man in specifically gray ones as much as the next girl, but he hasn’t changed. I don’t even know if he has showered. Seeing him all mopey is making me mad and slightly frustrated. I know he would much rather be back at what has been his home for years, but he needs help and I want to help. I just have no idea what I am doing. I’m feeling guilty making him move, and I know I shouldn’t. 

Thanks to having no social life I had a lot of PTO built up, I’ve been off these two weeks trying to help him feel at home. It’s been mostly awkward living with him when it shouldn’t. Awkward grunts, one word answers, he eats alone despite my best efforts. Yesterday he came out of his room and talked to me, it was about a cricket outside his window that just wouldn’t shut up. It was the first time he seemed to be normal? Is that even the right word, what is normal? 

It’s late afternoon, and he had been in his room the entire day. Walking past his room and I see him sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the boxes sitting along the wall picking at his fingernails. He has had mood swings that have him going from happy to sad in seconds.  I thought about walking past him again, keep going on with my day.  But I couldn’t stand seeing the boxes still stacked. It felt like he was ready to move as soon as Benny stepped foot on American soil again, and I was terrified of seeing him live like he didn’t belong here.  I stop and gently tap on the open door, “hey…you want some help with those?”

He doesn’t look up at me, instead he just continues to stare at the box, “there’s just so much, I don’t know where to start” he takes a deep breath hanging his head 

I walk into his room, he is still sitting on the bed. I grab the top box labeled ‘shirts’ and then turn back towards him. I tap his foot with mine, motioning with my head he needs to move. He stands up and watches as I drop the box on the bed and start grabbing a few shirts and put them in one of the many empty drawers. I hear him sigh with disapproval and I look at him “What?” I groan in frustration 

“They need to be folded neatly, and by color. As well as style, but it’s fine…it’s fine. I’ll just do it later” he rubs the back of his neck

Call it being a perfectionist, I call it someone who was trained that everything always had to have order.  Everything needed to have crisp lines, be organized.  Having its rightful spot, years of military training would do this to a person and I was all too aware that it wasn’t fine.

I pull the shirts back out of the drawer, hoping he doesn’t see my eye roll and I set them back in the box. I didn’t expect this to be easy, but I also didn’t expect I was going to have to be his mother and not a friend. I didn’t think I was going to have to tell Frankie to eat, to take a shower. All the things I thought he already knew, was he like this in rehab? “Then refold the shirts and put them in the drawer” shit was that too aggressive? “I think I might make you feel more at home if you do” I put a hand on his shoulder gently rubbing it. 

I watch as he takes a shirt out, folds it meticulously. The edges of the shirt are perfect, he sets it on the bed, his hand running over the shirt, taking out any wrinkles. Every shirt has an order, by color, type, it is memorizing watching him as he moves. Folding every time with such perfection. I have to shake my head and snap out of it, I grab another box and open it to find it stuffed with boxers. He is completely focused on his shirts as I work to put the boxer briefs in a drawer hoping the fold in half method works for him. 

I pull out black pair after black pair.  There was an occasional gray mixed in. After seeing him in those gray sweatpants for the past two weeks my mind can’t help but imagine him in these and how great they would make his thighs look, his…’stop.  Don’t think about that. He’s now your roommate you can’t do that’ all those thots fall when I pull out a baby blue pair with little cat heads wearing headsets. Different types of helicopters fill the empty space between the cat faces. I can’t but giggle holding them up, Frankie stops what he is doing and looks up, “care to explain these” holding the boxers in the air and shake them, I arch an eyebrow at him smiling 

He reaches across and snatches them from my hands “nope…” he paused for a moment fold the boxers in half “you got them” he places them on the bottom of the drawer under the pile of black ones 

“I did?” I truly don’t remember. One would think someone would remember getting boxers that looked like that 

“Yeah, Christmas a few years ago” he returns his focus to the shirts in the box

”Oh my God, you’re right. I did” I laugh

”You said, that I was impossible to shop for, and you wanted something unique to remember you when I was away” 

Frankie is the most impossible person to shop for. He always would say he didn’t need anything, he said to not waste money on a guy like him. He wasn’t worth it. I watch Frankie roll his eyes as I tell him again that he is impossible to shop for. A hint of a smile begins to appear and I think that we might have a breakthrough. I finished the box I was working on, broke it down and leaned it against the wall. Frankie pulls out his last shirt and folds it, setting it on the top of a pile. Grabbing the small stack he turns and starts to put them in the top drawer. I grab the box and start to break it down when I see a film strip inside. I reach in and grab the photos. 

I stare at them, a clean shaven, wide-eyed twenty something Francisco Morales. I had a photo from this shoot, but I never saw these two. It was before his first deployment and the guys went and did some ‘glamor shots’ as a gag gift. Frankie’s in a purple shirt and leather jacket. His brown hair falling perfectly into place. The first photo his hands are in his back pockets. Showing off his impressive chest and broad shoulders, his smile that makes one’s heart beat a little faster and an instant panty dropper. The other, I swear, he could have been a model. His arms crossed over his chest. His biceps bursting the seams of his jacket, his lips pursed together in a brooding expression. Holy shit, he’s hot…“What do we have here?”

Frankie turns and looks at me, it takes a moment for him to realize what I’m holding in my hand. “Give those here” he reaches for them and I quickly pull them away

”Nope…” I laugh and hold them up, inspecting the photos a bit more

”Lex” he says, a bit more authoritative, it’s deep and it’s sexy. He takes a step towards me, I take a couple small steps towards his open door. I try to keep a distance between us 

I have a small idea, “you want them?” I ask slowly moving backward closer to the door, he starts to close the distance nodding his head yes, “then you’ll just have to come and get them” I smile and turn to run through the door. 

He bolts out of the room following me, I forget how fast he is and how incredibly silent he can be. He’s on my heels in an instant and I run a circle around the couch. Heading past him and into the kitchen, stopping at one end of the small island. He’s facing me on the other side “Lex…” he says.  I smile, laugh and run past his outstretched arm.  

“Gotta be quicker than that Morales” I ran around the house again, waiting for him to turn and find me again. I lose my breath as I’m back in his room, the bed as a barrier between us. I look at the photos and see him strut back into his room. I clearly didn’t think this through completely as I find myself trapped on the one side of the bed. Frankie blocking the only exit. He starts to walk around the bed, he’s standing at the end while I move further up closer to the headboard. I’m waiting for him, I have my escape planned. He fakes a step to the left towards me and I step up onto his bed. The piles of shirts start to fall when I bring my other foot up. He reaches across the bed, “Bad move, Miller” he snarls and wraps a hand around my ankle pulling it out and dropping me to the bed. 

I hold the photos above my head, he pulls me closer. Placing his thigh is between my legs and crawling the bed until  he’s hovering over my body. We’re both laughing and I struggle to keep the photos out of his reach. His large hand captures both of my wrists and pins them to the bed. I squirm below him, trying to break free.  “Stop moving” he grunts, his other hand lands on my hip. Holding me tightly in place, my shirt slightly raised and his thumb slowly rubbing against my bare skin. Our laughter slowly turns into heavy breathing. 

His face is so close, I can feel his warm breath. His eyes are so full of life now, I see the small parts of the old Frankie. The Frankie that became a friend, family, a crush. My heart is pounding and I am pretty positive Frankie can hear it, his hand is setting my skin on fire and I have no idea what is happening. But I want to kiss him, I want him to kiss me, I want to feel his lips on mine. “Frankie…” I whisper 

“Hmmm” he leans closer to me, his nose brushing along mine 

I don’t know what I was going to say, I didn’t imagine us ending up like this. I clearly didn’t think this through and I have no idea what to do. Time seems to move slow, and I don’t know how long we stay like this. His eyes focused on mine, I feel like he is looking into my soul. Does he want me to kiss him? Should I kiss him? His hand still wrapped around my wrists, the other still holding my hip. 

“KISS HIM ALREADY” my inner voice yells. I finally make a move, I close the short distance between, my lips just about to touch his when my phone rings in my back pocket. His hand releases my wrists and he sits up on the bed. I close my eyes, wishing I didn’t take so long to make the move. I reach behind me, pulling out my phone. It was work, I smiled and mouth a sorry to him, sliding the answer button and bringing the phone to my ear. “Hello” I stand and walk out of his room 

“Why didn’t I kiss her? She was right there…would she even want me to kiss her?” He thinks to himself, running his fingers through his hair 

He looks at himself in the mirror. The same sweatpants he’s been wearing for well over a week, he looked like a hot mess. At least the shirt was clean, or he thought his shirt was clean. He sees the unruly hair, the 5 o’clock shadow had turned into a fully grown beard. “Because you're a pathetic loser, look at you. She’d never want you to kiss her” that negative voice inside him says. Frankie shakes his head, hands covering his face. He rubs his eyes and tries to remember Will telling him wasn’t.  But the thing is, Will was never a very good liar and the voice becomes louder and louder. 

“Fishie…hey Fish” her voice brings him back. He looks up at her “hey, you ok?

“yeah…yeah” he says, but her face tells him she doesn’t believe him. 

“uhm, ok.  I gotta run to work for a bit. I’m not sure when I’ll be home but there’s money on the table. Order some take out”  

He nods, giving her his best smile and watches as she walks away. He hears the door open and close.  Standing up he peeks his head out the door, he doesn’t hear her. He just needs to take the edge off. He knows he will feel a lot better when he can’t feel anything again. He knows he doesn’t have much left, but enough to last him at least today. He’ll worry about tomorrow-tomorrow. Thank God he hid the green can well enough that Alex didn’t find it. Just one hit, that’s all he needs.

“Take a shower, you’ll feel better after a shower. You’re better than this” he can hear Will’s voice. 

It didn’t.

“Food, get some food. Don’t do this Cat” the voice says

My phone dances on my desk as I finish some paperwork. I had plenty of PTO built up, but the doctor's office had an influx of new patients and I was one of the few who knew how to enter all the data and get them set up. It wasn’t where I pictured myself when I graduated college with a degree in film.  But it’s a good paying job, and it kept me close to home. 

Fishie 🐟: u like Pad Thai 🍲 

Me: Not really, and I don’t think that’s Pad Thai haha

Fishie 🐟: oh ok what u want? 

I type back a response, telling him to order what he wants. The money on the table was for him to do what he wanted. I might not like Pad Thai, but that shouldn’t stop him from ordering it. I finish typing a few things and grab my phone. I walked over to some of my coworkers who were getting ready to head out as well. I lean against Laura’s desk. She was chatting with a few of the nurses, I watched my phone as the little bubble with dots popped up, then disappeared, appeared again, and disappeared again. I sigh, my head drops. His mood swings are driving me insane. 

Me: I like noodles, with teriyaki sauce if that counts as Pad Thai

“What’s up Buttercup” Laura smiles cheerfully

”Have you ever had to help a friend with an addiction?” I look up, the mouths all open “seriously. A friend, not me” 

“What kind of addiction?” Laura asks, she was my go-to at work. Her upbeat attitude always had the answers 

“Narcotics…” I reply 

Is this friend living with you?” a nurse asks 

I tell them how the friend just got out of rehab, I leave out the part that the friend is a he, and the he is Frankie. I tell them how rehab said something about how they shouldn’t be left alone, doctors orders they need to live with someone in case of a relapse. “Sometimes I feel like I see the person I became friends with, then sometimes hhhh-they are a completely different person. Someone I don’t even know and it’s only been two weeks” 

“Just keep being there for them, don’t push too hard. But they need to know you are there for him. I mean them, no matter what it is, they can trust you” she puts a hand on top of mine 

“You can’t give up on them.  No matter how hard they try to push you away, you push back. They’ll have their moments but like Laura said, you just need to be there. Letting them know you won’t give up on them” 

“Thanks,” I take a deep breath and stare at my phone, he still hasn’t responded “I just wish I knew what he needed, he doesn’t talk” 

“Give it time, he will open up when he’s ready” 

'Did she just say he? How does she know' I think

I walk into the house, kicking off my shoes and dropping my purse off on the little side table. I hear grunting from down the hall. ‘Oh please don’t tell me he has a girl here’ I think to myself moving towards his room. “Frankie?” 

T-Shirts he had just folded and pants were thrown into the hall. I move towards the open door dodging pants being thrown out as I get close, I look into his room and it looks like a tornado hit. The mattress shoved against the wall, drawers empty and pulled from the dresser, clothes thrown around the room. I see Frankie bent over in his closet he had on a new pair of dark green sweats on, he’s shirtless. Little water droplets still cling to his hair and a towel draped over the back of a chair. 

“Where the fuck is it?!” he shouts as I watch him throw more things around. 

“Where is what?” I ask, and instantly regret it 

He turned quickly looking at me, his eyes filled with rage and nostrils flaring. I’ve never seen this look before, and he slowly starts to walk towards me. There’s an evil glint to his eye and it scares me. 

“Where the fuck did you put it Alexandra?” He snarls 

“If you told me what you are looking for…” I tried to not raise my voice, trying to keep calm. He needs me to remain calm. 

“YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR! DON’T PLAY STUPID” 

The yelling intensifies and I know the neighbors can hear us, stay calm. Don’t make things worse. 

What happened to the Frankie from earlier? 

“I need you to calm down, Frankie. Please. Just tell me what you're looking for and I can help” I wanna put my hand on his shoulder, ground him. Let him know I’m here, but he’s breathing heavy, his lip curls up in an evil grin. 

“I know you have it!” he says in an oddly calm manner, “JUST GIVE IT TO ME!!!” He yells 

He takes a step closer, he raises his fist. I flinch as the closed hand comes flying towards me and it connects with the wall inches from my head. “Give it to me now Alex” he growls

“What in the hell is your problem!?” I yell shoving his chest back

“You! Benny! This stupid fucking place. I don’t want to be here!” His eyes begin to water and a tear streams down his cheek, he takes a couple steps back

“Fine, then fucking leave! No one is forcing you to be here Francisco” I try to hold back by own tears “I am sick and tired of seeing you being all mopey and shit.  You don’t want to be here, FINE” 

Shit…I am pretty sure I just over stepped. I go to open my mouth to apologize and there is a hard knock at the door followed by a “Police” 

“You called the Police?” He shouts 

“I’ve been standing in front of you the entire time arguing with you. When would I have had time to call the police?” I say, I back up and move towards the front door. The knocks become more aggressive “I’m coming!” 

I unlock the door and see three officers standing there. They all have a concerned look on their faces

”Good evening ma’am. We got a call about some yelling and wanted to make sure everything was ok” the taller officer said

”Everything is fine. It’s great. Just swell” my words are dripped with sarcasm

“Do you mind stepping outside to talk to my partner Officer James” he looks over my shoulder and sees Frankie, “hey there sir.  Mind coming over here for a moment?” 

He is sitting on the porch as she stands by the car. He fucked up, she’s given up on him. He’s given up on himself. 

“What’s your name?” The youngest officer asks him 

Frankie reads the name printed on his chest. T. Baker. “Frank, my name is Frank and everything is fine Officer Baker” 

Baker keeps asking bin questions.  What happened, did she hit him. Did he hit her? How long has he been living here? What was their relationship? Frankie becoming more annoyed with each question. What did it matter? He fucked things up and he needed a hit more then ever. He was looking for his coke, she found him on a downward spiral but there was no way he was going to tell him that. Suddenly the questions take a turn, when Officer Baker notices a tattoo on his chest. 

“What branch?” 

“Excuse me” Frankie responds confused 

“Your tattoo?”

“Oh yeah, Army. Special Ops, I was a pilot” 

He has a tattoo on the left side of his chest, a helicopter flying. A sun and clouds shaded in the background. The helicopter with incredible detail, one of the ones he first learned how to fly. A few men repelling from the bird.  Just below a group of trees

“Thank you for your service sir.  Wait here, I have some stuff for you” Baker nods his head and walks to the patrol car 

He watches him shuffle down the stairs, he sees Alex and for a moment they lock eyes. His heart nearly stops as he sees the tears in her eyes that she quickly wipes away. He caused this pain and for what, a stupid little hit that was nearly enough to take away the pain. He ruined everything. The afternoon was so great, and now she wants him out. Officer Baker was walking back with a stack of papers in his hand. 

“For the hundredth time, he didn’t hurt me. He would never do that” I groaned. I have said the same thing over and over. Are they trying to get a different answer? Despite Frankie punching a hole in the wall, he would never lay a hand on me. 

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes taking in a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I see Frankie. His eyes locked onto mine. The hurt, the pain, he looks lost. The officer hands him a stack of papers. His hands shaking as he takes them, he turns his head down and he walks into the house. 

“Ms. Miller, if you need anything else please give us a call” the officer sees his small notebook and sticks it in his chest pocket. “Have a good night” he walks past me and heads to his car. 

I head to the steps of my front porch watching the officer who had spoken to Frankie walk down. He stops me before I walk past him, “he’ll be ok. Just give it time. I’ve been there. He’s got a good girlfriend, just be patient with him” 

I stop in my tracks, my jaw drops. What the hell did Frankie tell him? “Wait…what?” I ask. But it was too late, the officer already getting back into his car. I shake my head and walk into the house locking the door behind me. 

It’s getting late and I’m hungry. I walk past the hallway that leads to the bedrooms and notice Frankie bent over picking up the clothes that had been thrown into the hallway. I should say something, I should apologize to him. I get distracted, watching the muscles in his back strain with every movement. ‘Focus Alex’. What is wrong with me, this man just put me through a roller coaster of emotions. I can’t get distracted by something as stupid as watching him work. 

I shake my head and walk towards the kitchen. I hope to find some leftover takeout since I know the fridge is empty. Instead I find the $20 left on the table in the same exact place I left it. I can’t leave, that would require me letting Frankie know, and it might be petty but I really don’t want to talk to him right now, maybe even for the rest of the night. I open the freezer and pray that the ice cream is still there. I open the door and find the pint of cookie dough ice cream still sitting there. I do a little happy dance and grab a spoon. I make my way to the living room and flop down on the sofa, turning on the TV and pop the top off digging in. 

“I fucked up…” he says to himself folding the shirts, putting them back in the dresser. He pushes the mattress back onto the frame and sits on the edge of his bed. He looks up and sees the hole he had punched into the wall. An image of Alex’s face floods his memory. He fucked up so bad that she didn’t even say two words to him when she came back into the house. He left the pamphlets on the coffee table, she’s going to find them. He knows it.

The papers were for local rehabs where VA’s held sobriety classes.  They had everything from AA to NA to Gambling. He didn’t want to go to rehab again, he felt more alone then he ever had there. That’s where he met George, well Steve really. He made it though those 30 days thanks to him smuggling in just enough coke to help them both function like normal adults. Nicole, well she helped in other ways. One keeping his secret and she helped him take his mind off things when he was able to bury himself in her. She wasn’t who he wanted, but she was there.  She was a quick fuck. It didn’t mean anything, and he felt bad when he told her it wasn’t going to last when he left. His mind racing with all these thoughts, he’ll finish cleaning later. He’ll patch the hole tomorrow. Right now he has something bigger to take care of. He needs to repair this whatever-ship he had with Alex. He needs her. 

He plops on the couch next to her, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him, she focused on the ice cream in her hand and the moving pictures on the TV

”Ice cream for dinner?” He asks ‘great icebreaker Morales, you idiot’ his inner demon mocks him 

“Yeah, the perk of being an adult. No one can tell me what to eat Franklin” she stuffs another spoon into her mouth, “that and someone didn’t buy dinner like I told them too” 

‘She called me Franklin…maybe she’s not that mad’ he reads her face, it’s softened…a hint of a smile. Then she said that last part, and it changes to instant regret. She turns to look at him “shit. I’m so sorry that was-“ 

“No…no I deserved that” he interrupts her, “can I have a bite?” 

She eyes him, something between a grin and a smirk on her face. She sticks the spoon into the ice cream and scoops out a tiny pile, moving the spoon to his open mouth. 

“I’m sorry Lex he says mouth full of ice cream

He looks at the ground, he’s picking at his nails. I can see the inner struggle he’s having and it breaks my heart, I have no idea how to help. I watch as his mind tries to find the words he wants to say. I go to open my mouth, but he stops me “I am really sorry” he says again 

“What happened today?” I ask him setting the ice cream on the table and turning to face him 

“I was looking for…fuck…I was looking for some coke. I thought I had some left. I am so sorry. I didn’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. Rehab didn’t do shit” he’s talking fast and I’m trying to keep up. 

He tells me about George, how they were doing just enough to get by.  Nicole helped them not get caught. He doesn’t know how George was able to get the contraband in, but he did. They exchanged information, and he was helping Frankie. He wasn’t doing as much as he used to, which I guess is good, he thought he had some left.  A small tin can was what he was looking for, he was terrified that I found it when we were unpacking. 

“How many days has it been?” I ask 

“I don’t know, maybe five days?” He doesn’t sound very positive 

“Maybe five days? How many days Frankie?” 

“Three…it’s been three days and I am going crazy” he says ‘then we almost kissed and I panicked and I was on edge and just needed a hit’ he thinks to himself 

“ok” she says and stands up. 

“Wait where are you going?” He asks, panic setting in 

He’s worried that she is going to get his bag, she’s gonna ask him to leave. This is too much, this isn’t what she signed up for. She’s given up on him. His head falls back, he wants this couch to eat him alive. He wanted to disappear before and that feeling is ten times worse, now that she knows his secret. 

She comes back a large poster in her hand, the other has a sharpie and stickers. She sits it on the table and sits on the floor next to Frankie. He watches as she makes little boxes, writing dates, making a calendar. Her tongue peeks out of her tongue as she concentrates on the task at hand. He leans forwards, and continues to watch over her shoulder. She looks up at him, “ok did you use today?”

He shakes his head no “I couldn’t find it”

“right..” she puts a little star sticker on today's date “and you said three days since the last time”

He nods. She puts a sticker on the past three days

“What are you doing?” He asks 

That was a great question. What was I doing? This idea sounded crazy in my head, even more crazy as I explained to Frankie. It would be like a reward chart.  Something like when you were a kid and had chores, you’d get a sticker for each thing completed. The more stickers you get a reward. The more I say this, and look at his face of confusion the more dumb this idea sounded. He isn’t a kid, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. 

“This is stupid, just forget it.” I sigh pushing the stuff away from me

His large hands stop the poster from moving, he brings it closer. 

“What is my reward?” He asks curiously 

“Uhm…what do you want?” 

“Pancakes…” he says

”Pancakes? Really?” and he nods “ok how about we start with a week, you make it a week, I’ll make you pancakes” 

“With sprinkles?” His boyish smile is back, his eyes wide and I have a little hope that this stupid, wacky, insane idea might work

I smile and nod at him. I move to sit next to him on the couch, “I’ll have to go buy some. But sure, you can have sprinkles” 

“Hey Lexi, one more thing?” He asks “Can we get some helicopter stickers?”

I smile and cup his cheek, my thumb gently brushing the trimmed beard, “yes Franklin. We can get some helicopter stickers” 

ANN: A huge shout out to @musings-of-a-rose for helping me with this and giving me confidence to post this in first person. I am still terrified of it. @theewokingdead and @heythere-mel for listening to my random ass ideas at all hours. I love each and every one of you.



Looking for more of my fics check out my masterlist. And check out other writers at @littlemisspascal and their library for all Pedro Characters



Just A Dream Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

[wasleichtesart]

Talking to God’s spokesman Companion piece to this Crowley.

[theblvckvenus]

A Starting Point

Summary: Chris’ meeting today didn’t go as planned and turns out you’re the stress relief.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: *18+ only*, NSFW, smut, porn, oral sex (m recieving), dirty talk, cursing, choking, daddy kink

*feedback very much welcomed*

Things had been busy recently as Chris was in constant meetings for his new venture A Starting Point. The site hadn’t gone live yet but he seemed to have daily meetings with Congress men and women which stole his time away from you but left a feeling of immense pride in your stomach. With all that had been going on in the world, your mental health hadn’t been all the good but knowing your Chris was out there trying to change it was helping immensely. Due to virtually everything being closed you’d spent the day inside, wearing one of his shirts, cleaning his place up as best you could, and even preparing dinner which sent a warmth emanating through the house.

6pm and right on cue the front door opened and you heard his heavy footfall through the hallway before you saw the familiar figure in the doorway. Large shoulders filled the wooden frame for a moment and the tense look on his face was briefly replaced with a look of satisfaction at seeing you curled on the sofa in his clothing.

“Evening sweetheart.” He said hands moving up to undo the tie around his neck, as he slowly made his way across the floor. There was an edge to his voice, probably forged in the stress of the day but it played dangerously on your mind.

“How was it?” You asked lightly standing to make your way over to him.

“He doesn’t want to join.” He sighed quietly “Too risky in the current climate.” He mimicked the accent as he closed the gap between the two of you exhaling a softy sigh.

“It’s like they hear my name and their guard goes up.” He growled lightly, hands tightening into loose fists as they snaked round your waist to bunch lightly at his shirt.

“It’s going to be okay.” You said sweetly looking up into troubled green eyes, as you stood in front of him now happy to be returned to his arms. “And if it’s not we will figure out some other way to get to them. But for now you should just... relax you seem stressed.”

As you spoke your arms slid round his muscled torso clinging your frame gently against his. “I am.” He answered quietly his lips pressed against your hair, words almost lost in them. “And you’re right I need to de-stress.” There was that gruff edge again, that lifted your head back up to look at him.

“You want my help with that?” You asked quietly searching his hues once more reading the subtext. He nodded lightly, still toying with the material of his tie in his fist, kissing your head as you watched him.

“That wide eyed look you give me, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do.” He chuckled wryly, hands moving up to cup your soft cheek in his palm, squeezing gently. “You want to help daddy out y/n? After the day he’s had.”

You nodded, in all honesty you’d missed him whilst he was travelling around and it was about time you both got the attention you craved.

“Use your words babygirl because you won’t be able to in a moment.” He said quielty, the hand at your waist guiding you over to the large couch. When he sat down an exhaustion was evident in the heaviness of his body, it hurting you to see it.

“Yes I do. More than anything.” You said quietly, glancing down to meet his gaze. As he regarded you above him Chris widened his legs, sitting in that wide legged position you’d seen too often. As he did you knelt between them, nestling comfortably between his calves.

Your hands moved to the zipper of his suit trousers but suddenly you were pulled backwards sharply by his hand clamped to the back of your neck. “Did I say you could touch yet?” There was that edge again, you hated to admit how much it excited you. Sure nice Chris was great but this one, this one that was so firm and controlled, he was all yours. Shaking your head you settled back against your heels looking up expectantly. It only took a moment for him to free himself, your eyes widening lightly as you saw him stand erect. He chuckled at that same look you were giving him leaning forward to brush your cheek again before his thumb pushed in between your lips opening them for him.

“So pretty. God I wish I could take you with me and keep this mouth under the desk for all those fucking meetings.” He said quietly, his thumb exploring your mouth causing you to drool lightly against his skin. The hand at the back of your neck guided you closer, knotting itself in your braids to give him complete control as he pulled you to his tip. “Remember what daddy taught you.”

It didn’t take more than a moment for you to sink your lips down around his shaft pushing him down to the back of your throat. Your head bobbed up and down the length slowly, mouth so full of him that you could barely breath. One heavy hand stayed at the back of your head controlling the pace, using your mouth as the tool he wanted it to be. You were rewarded with a low moan from Chris and as you managed to lift your eyes you saw his head leant back against the back of the couch, eyes fixed up at the ceiling as he relaxed into you. As much as he was in control you know you were helping him right now, letting him be the force you knew him to be.

The sight of him caused you to speed up your motions lifting your elbows to his knees to hold yourself up between him, as you continued useing your tongue to greedily beg him to release. “That’s my girl, y/n.” The sound of his voice was directed down again, evidence that he was watching you once more and his controlling hand jammed you down hard. Your lips were pressed to the skin at the base of his shaft now, causing you to choke slightly on his dick, throat tightening round him. You used the last of your agency to move your head side to side pushing him round your throat as you did and the primal sound that rewarded you from his lips was unlike any other you’d heard before.

You had only a half second to catch breath before there was a hand tightly around the front of your throat, cutting off your air supply again. His thick fingers pushed your chin upwards so you had no choice but to look up at him and the sight of his darkened green eyes caused you to whimper softly from wet lips.

“You make it all worth it.” He murmured, using his hand on your neck to lift you from the kneeling position, other hand slipping under your thighs to pull you up into his lap. “At least here I know the outcome. You cum when I say, you breathe when I say. Right babygirl.” You couldn’t even nod, eyes still huge and fixed on him, cheeks wet with a smart of tears.

He chuckled angling your hips up lightly teasing you with his tip at your entrance running it through the wetness between your folds. “I know I know it’s baby’s turn now right.” He said slipping his supporting arm out from under you to drop your hips down onto his, forcing himself deep within you. “My good little stress toy aren’t you?”

——

@afriendlyblackhottie

[reidgraygubler]

going in blind (luke alvez/reader)

{image id: gif of luke alvez holding two long sleeved button ups, the one on the left is gray and the one on the right is blue. A german shepard is in the foreground. the caption reads “the blue or the grey? hmm?” end image id}

Title: Going In Blind

Request: No

Couple: Luke Alvez with Visually Impaired Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: swearing (if any), mentions of service/guide animals, mentions of serving in the army, brief mentions of PTSD, blind/visually impared!reader, if I missed anything or something else needs to be tagged, please message me and I will fix that! 

Word Count: 2,885

Summary: Penelope sets Luke up on a blind date with one of her friends… What could possibly go wrong…?

Author’s Note: Welcome to day two of my 7 fics in 7 days event! We have more firsts with this piece of work. I tried my hardest to make this be screen reader-friendly, if this has any problems with that, please let me know. This also blocks off a square on my third (i know) bingo card. It’s for the blind date square on the @cmbingo​ card! Thank you all so much for the love and support!  Check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Are you on tinder?” Penelope asked, looking over Luke’s shoulder. Luke was quick, jumping as he put his phone face down on his desk. 

“What? No!” He looked over at his friend and colleague. He swallowed roughly, knowing that there was no way out of this one. Penelope already had the tools to find the truth. There was really no use hiding that from a woman like Penelope. Even if she wasn’t one of the best hackers he knew, Penelope would have worked it out of him no matter what. 

“It looked like you were on tinder, Newbie,” she glared at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. Luke looked down at his phone for a brief moment, before looking up at his friend.

“He’s definitely doing something,” Spencer chimed in, looking away from his book. “He’s been picking up his phone and looking at it every other minute. That’s not an exaggeration,” he spoke looking back down at his book. Penelope looked back down at Luke with an excited smile. 

“Yes, fine, I was on Tinder. It’s been awhile since things ended with Lisa and I wanted to… put myself out there, as some would say,” Luke spoke as he gestured towards his phone, “and, tinder is a viable way of doing that,” he looked up at his friend and shrugged. 

“What if I set you up on a blind date?" Penelope smiled as she looked down at her co-worker. 

“I… I guess… you can do that," he replied, furrowing his eyebrows. He wasn't too sure what to expect from Penelope when it came to a blind date. 

“Oh sweetness! I know the perfect person!” Penelope clapped her hands together as she looked back at Luke. "I'll give them your number! And then you guys can plan a date or something!" she looked down at her friend with excitement. 

{***}

"Roxy, blue or gray?" Luke looked at the German Shepard that was sitting on his bed. Roxy tilted her head to the side as she looked at her owner. Luke groaned as he looked at his pet, tossing both the shirts to his bed. He looked at the two clothing items before picking up the navy blue shirt and holding it to his chest. 

“Blue might be best. Who doesn’t love blue?” he looked over at Roxxy with a smile before changing into the shirt. “Alright, Roxxy, wish me luck,” Luke whispered as he rubbed the dog’s head. With one last look at the animal, Luke left, hoping to make it there on time. 

Unfortunately for him, time was not on his side and traffic ended up being his new friend. And when he did finally make it to the restaurant, he was a few minutes late. He rushed to the table, hoping they’d still be there.

“So sorry I’m late, I was trying to pick what color of shirt to wear and then traffic was a nightmare on the way here,” Luke chuckled as he sat down at the table across from them. They smiled and nodded, folding their hands over the table.

“Oh, oh it’s okay, really. I was a little nervous myself,” they laughed as they lifted a hand to their chest as they spoke. Luke looked at them and smiled. He silently prayed that this date wouldn’t crash and burn like previous dates he had been on.

But, little did he know, they were doing the same thing. They couldn’t even count how many dates they had gone on that failed harder than a teen who didn’t study for a test. They went into this date expecting it to have a bad outcome.

“Which color did you pick?” they asked like it was no big deal, like maybe he already knew the biggest, most obvious fact about them. They would have assumed that Penelope told him.

“Well, I, uh, I wore the blue shirt… I wasn’t sure which color to wear,” Luke laughed, watching as they started playing with their hands. 

“So that’s what color it is,” they laughed lightly before blinking. The smile they had on their lips was very genuine. They were excited. Of course they were excited, someone was going on a date with them. And, so far so good, right?

Or, so they thought...

“I don’t… I don’t get it… Am I missing something,” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at them. They had their hands resting in their lap. As a certain nervousness took over, they began pulling at their fingers, popping each knuckle. 

“Did Penelope not tell you,” they nervously chuckled, blinking slowly as they shifted in their seat. 

“Tell me…? Tell me what?” 

“I’m blind,” they chuckled again. The silence that fell between both of them was tense. It was obvious that Luke had no clue that they were blind. Of course, they went into this blind date knowing whoever it was might not have known it was a literal blind date. It wouldn’t have been the first, or last, time Penelope left that detail out. 

“Oh… Oh… I’m… I’m so sorry,” Luke muttered as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They laughed and shook their head.

“It’s okay. Really, it’s fine. I knew Penelope probably didn’t tell you,” they chuckled lightly before shrugging.

“I don’t know why Penelope didn’t mention that you… you’re blind,” Luke laughed as he brought his glass to his lips. They laughed and shook their head.

“I honestly wouldn’t put it past her… Wouldn’t be the first time she’s done that to me,” they smiled, reaching their hand out to feel for their glass of water. “Well, I’m not totally blind. I can see shapes if they’re being backlit. So, like if someone was standing in front of the sun,” their smiled and nodded before bringing the glass to their lips. After taking a sip, they carefully placed the cup back on the table. “Does that make sense?” they cocked their head to the side.

“Yeah, yeah it makes sense,” Luke nodded as he looked at them, “So, I picked a pretty good spot then, huh?” he asked as he realized that he was facing away from the sun. 

“Well, I was the one who picked the spot, silly,” they couldn’t help but laugh. Luke felt somewhat comforted by their laughter, laughing lightly in return. “I knew the window seat would help me in that. It’s nice having the shape of my date,” they kept laughing. In their head that made sense, but thinking back about it now, they weren’t too sure if it made sense out loud. 

“How… How did you go blind? If you don’t mind me asking,” Luke asked, his voice soft as he spoke. He wasn’t too sure if it was insensitive to ask that, but he was genuinely curious. If he didn’t find out through them, he would have just asked Penelope. 

“Oh, uh, yeah you can ask,” they laughed again. Luke smiled, it was clear he really liked their laughter. Part of him was happy they couldn’t see how he looked at them. But the other part of him was upset that he couldn’t share the same things he saw with them. “I went blind when I was really young. I was like 5. If it wasn’t a million dollar word that you probably didn’t understand, I’d say it. But, I basically went blind because of an illness,” they smiled and nodded. 

“Wow, I… I can’t even imagine…” Luke started but let his words trail off. Of course, how would anyone ever imagine being blind at such a young age? But they’ve heard that from so many people, and not just people they went on dates with, but friends, nurses, strangers on the street, and even family. They didn’t let it bother them though. 

“Yeah, the number of times I’ve heard that,” they shrugged as they reached out for their glass of water again, “Trust me, it’s fine. I’ve been blind all my life, basically. I’m like a professional at it or something,” a small snicker came from them. 

“Do you have a service animal?” Luke asked, watching as they expertly placed their water back down. 

“His name is Pickles,” they smiled as they dropped their head down, “He’s a Labradoodle,” they felt happiness spread through their body as they talked more about their pet. Although, he was more than just a pet, than just a dog to them. Pickles was basically their best friend and family. 

“I bet your Pickles and my Roxxy would be great friends,” Luke enthused with a laugh. Their head jerked up as if they looked at him the second he mentioned having a dog. 

“Is Roxy a service animal?” they asked, resting their hands on the table. Luke smiled and nodded.

“Roxy helps with my PTSS…” he supplied a proper answer when he realized they didn’t see the nod. 

“Oh my goodness,” they whispered, a sudden anxiety grew in their stomach as they thought of what to say next. But, they didn’t really know what to say. 

“It’s all good now. Roxy’s my best friend. I’d be lost without her,” Luke swallowed roughly before nodding again.

“When did you serve? Where did you serve?” they asked, cocking their head to their shoulder. 

“Uh, several years ago now. I served as part of the 75th Rangers  in Iraq… with the U.S. Army,” his words got quiet as he spoke, but they were just loud enough for them to hear. They smiled and nodded.

“Thank you for your service, Luke,” the date whispered with a soft smile, “And now you work for the FBI."

“Yep! And now I work for the FBI,” Luke laughed and nodded, “Wouldn’t trade it for anything. My team is like my family,” 

“You know, that wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard somebody say that. Penelope speaks so fondly of you,” his companion smiled as they ran their hand across the tablecloth. Their shoulders relaxed as they felt the fabric beneath their fingertips. “Well, she speaks fondly of everyone she knows, so I suppose it’s hard to judge that. But, she does talk about you and your team a lot. More often than anything else. Other than Sergio, of course,” they laughed, which in turn caused Luke to laugh. 

“You’re not wrong. She really does talk about everyone she meets like they’ve done no wrong,” he agreed with a soft laugh. 

“Which is impressive in her line of work, because of everything she sees. But I think that’s something Penelope and I have in common. I think too good of people. I think it would be too hard to work in the FBI, though,” they wrinkled their nose. “I’ve met some pretty shitty people but not serial killers… Not that bad,” they shrugged and dropped their shoulders. 

Thankfully the moment was saved when the waitress came up to the table and took Luke and his date’s order. Playing it safe, they got spaghetti with sauce and cheese. Where as Luke ordered steak with vegetables. 

“That sounds yummy. Hopefully it’s as good as it sounds,” they smiled and nodded. “Sorry I was intense about talking nice about other people. I don’t know. Working for the FBI sounds like it’d be cool, but very exhausting.” 

“It is… It can be mentally and emotionally draining,” Luke nodded as he leaned over the table, resting his elbows on the edge to keep himself up. “But, it makes up for itself… See people be reunited with their families… It’s worth it then,” he nodded as he thought about previous cases he worked on. 

“I’d never be able to do that,” they blinked before shaking their head, “I don’t know how Penelope does it,” 

“A lot of courage. She surprises me everyday,” he laughed. This time it was their turn to appreciate his laughter. Though they couldn’t exactly see his face, they could imagine what was in front of them. The happiness and love he had for a friend. Luke’s date loved that he loved his friends like they were family. 

“Anyways, enough about me and my work…” Luke cleared his throat as he watched his date rest their elbows on the table. “Tell me about you. Like, uh… What kind of music do you listen to?” he raised an eyebrow.

{***}{***}{***}

“You should have taken her seriously when she said blind date," Luke’s date chuckled lightly as the two of them walked down a cobblestone path. Their arm carefully rested on Luke's as they walked. Their other hand held their cane, tapping it across the ground in front of them. 

"I agree, wasn't expecting it to be a literal blind date," Luke returned the chuckle, "But I had fun," he added as he looked down at his date.

"I did too. I'm kinda glad Penelope didn't tell you I'm blind," they laughed nervously. Truth be told, they were scared Luke would have ditched them. It’s happened before, what's not stopping it from happening again? They couldn't count how many times it has happened.

Luke abruptly stopped in his tracks as he looked down at his date. It caught them off guard, forcing them to turn and face him.

"What? Why'd we stop? Did something happen?" As the grip they had on his arm softened a little bit, the grip on their cane tightened. A certain fear filled their body, not sure what was happening at the moment.

"You know…” Luke started, pausing for a moment to find his words. The date pulled their hand from Luke’s arm as they turned to face him more. “I would have come whether Penelope told me you were blind or not," he continued, lifting a hand and resting it on their shoulder. They jumped slightly, not expecting the friendly gesture. 

“I know… Well, actually, I don’t know. Because you wouldn’t be the first person to say that to me,” they swallowed roughly before dropping their head to the ground, “The number of failed dates I’ve gone on… Is a little embarrassing… And, the number of people who knew I was blind before the date and ditched… Is even worse,” they whispered as they stepped back away from Luke. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at his date. He couldn’t figure out why someone would ditch someone as cool as them. So what if they couldn’t see as well as others, or at all? They still deserved to be treated like a normal human. 

“You don’t deserve that,” he muttered as he stared at his date. They smiled and nodded, already knowing that. “And, frankly, this is the best date I’ve been on in a long time,” 

“I’m glad to hear that. It was a pretty good date for me too,” they smiled, as their hand returned to his arm. “Where are we anyways?” they took a deep breath and shuffled closer to his body. 

“Down the street from your apartment,” he replied, looking down the street. 

“Did Penelope give you my address?” they tilted their head up to him as they spoke. Luke’s date wouldn’t put it past Penelope, honestly. They expected it. 

“Yeah, she said I should pick you up. But you said you would take an Uber…” he replied with a nod, “When we left the restaurant, I parked a few blocks away from your apartment, so we could walk… And so this date wouldn’t end,” he laughed lightly. His date couldn’t stop the large smile growing on their lips, feeling their heart pitter-pattering quickly in their chest. 

“You really mean that,” they stopped tapping their cane across the ground as they began trusting Luke. 

“We'll have to do this again,” his date laughed as they turned to face Luke, “I had a lot of fun tonight,”  

“Of course I mean that. I told you...This is the best date I’ve been on in a while,” Luke laughed as he sensed their new level of trust in him.

“I wish this night didn’t have to end,” they said with a bubbly smile. Luke enjoyed the excitement of his date and hummed in agreement. Even though they both wished the night could keep going, the two walked in a comfortable and warm silence to their apartment.

“Yes! We will. Maybe we can walk Pickles and Roxy in the park,” Luke smiled as he looked down at them. 

And just as he got to the bottom step of the small staircase, he stopped for a brief moment before turning to his date. “I’ll see you later,” Luke smiled at them. 

“I won’t,” the blind date smiled as they rested their hand on the railing beside them. Luke froze when he realized his verbal mistake. His mouth opening slightly as he looked up at them with shock in his eyes.

“Aw man, I totally fudged that, didn’t I?” he pointed at the date before shoving his hands in his pockets. They laughed and shook their head.

“No, no, don’t worry. It’s fine. I thought it was funny. It happens all the time, actually,” them smiled and nodded, “I better let you go. It was nice meeting you, Luke,” they grasped their cane with both their hands as they turned to face him more.

“I’ll definitely call you,” 

“I’ll definitely text you,” the date grinned before turning and entering their apartment. 

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @mggsprettygirl​ , @thebluetint​

[sweetestlamb]

Mostrami Amore.

Summary: Cha-young tries to move on from a certain mafia boss. 

Author’s Note: Thank for to everyone who sent in prompts for Chayenzo, it resulted in this mess. I don’t have much to say, I considered making this into a multi- chaptered story but honestly I don’t have time for another ongoing story so if this seems rushed it was a little, I wrote it in one go today. Hope you enjoy this, I stuck in some of my favorite crack ship because I am weak and obsessed. Happy reading! 

p.s takes place after final episode but han seo lives because this is my world and I get to play God. 

Another postcard.

Their delivery becomes sporadic and she’s embarrassed at the giddiness that washes over her each time a new square is sent miles across a wide stretch of ocean, the view on the card most likely lackluster in comparison to the true rendering of Malta. She has spent many hours on her laptop searching for images of the small paradisiac island, yearning to see what he sees and feel just a tad bit closer to him. Most of her life has been spent in solitude with only her work acquaintances filling the void at times, so she expected herself to be more equipped to deal with his disappearance and subsequent absence. But nothing prepares her for those moments at the coffee shop, when she finds herself smiling across a table only to realize there is no miniature espresso cup in the hand of a very dangerous Italian Korean mafia member grinning back at her. 

The smile melts off her face and she swallows the bitter cool sludge in her cup, the beverage tasting exactly as he had described it without him there. 

Nights are the hardest, loneliness coils around her like a snake. 

There was never any other fate for them, she knew that when Vincenzo murdered all their enemies this was their only real outcome. He would always be a fugitive on the run and she an accomplice if he were captured and questioned, it was in both of their best interests if he vanished from the face of the planet. But knowing that does nothing to qualm the ever present feeling of isolation that clings to her skin as she sits alone on her couch, downing makgeolli at a vicious pace. Trying to wash his taste from her mouth, that kiss on loop in her mind and the phantom grip of his hand on her neck. 

It’s those treacherous nights without the plaza members that have become a second family to her and Han Seo following her like the lost puppy he is calling her “Noona” so freely and frequently until she forgets her own name, that she allows herself to feel exactly what she’s feelings. 

Heartbroken. 

Desperate. 

Lonely. 

Rage. 

The last one she hides like a dirty secret in the closet of her heart, she knew what she was signing up for. She has no legitimate reason to be angry, or so she tries to reason with herself. But. This was the same man who had bypassed the security of one of the richest men in Korea and ultimately killed him without leaving a trace. She had watched him do despicable things, blackmailing, threatening, seducing, and murdering others as he saw fit and yet, he hadn’t used any of those dastardly ways to see her. That chance meeting at the art gallery had been the last she had seen of him, Then a few weeks later another postcard with the same message she had boldly uttered at the airport, it feels insufficient after having him in her arms again. She knew in that moment that they would never be enough again. She hadn’t even argued when Mr. Nam claimed he would leave this one on his table instead, she merely nodded and walked away to peruse the new sexual assault case she has taken recently. 

It gets harder and harder to hear Han Seo regaling the wonders of his “hyung”,  her anger boiling deep below the surface like magma waiting to explode and transform into something tangible and destructive. 

“He told me that he has a room for me too. I wonder when he’ll let us visit.” 

She nods absently, staring out the window at the sunlight twinkling in through the blinds but then his words register and the gears in her head churn before running the sentence back through to carefully process them. 

“He---what? You spoke to Vincenzo?” 

The human puppy pouts his lips before tilting his head and dealing a hard blow to her ego and her heart, “Yeah, he sends me letters. I got so scared the first time! He said the letter would self-destruct after I read it and I really thought that was true and I dived across the room to escape but I bumped my head on the table and then...” 

He sent Han Seo letters.  

She had received the same fucking postcard for months on end with the same message she had said to him, and he had time to write Han Seo letters. He hadn’t sent her even one in the time he had been gone. 

“That fucking bastard!”  She explodes interrupting Han Seo’s recount of his near death experience and he looks wide- eyed and taken back by her outburst, she almost soothes him before another wave of anger rushes through her veins. She had accepted the bare minimum because she thought this was all he could give her but it seemed she was being too naïve. He was Vincenzo Cassano after all, he could make anything happen. She had seen it with her own two eyes. If he wasn’t reaching out to her maybe that was a message and she was too blind to see it. 

“Noona? Are you okay?” Han Seo looks absolutely terrified, eyes huge and quivering. She doesn’t bother answering, grabbing her cup of lukewarm coffee and stomping out of the office ignoring Mr. Nam’s calls behind her. She’s tired of being an idiot. 

She throws herself into forgetting him, the same way he seems to have forgotten her despite his words to her that fateful night on the stairs. 

I thought about you everyday. 

Actions speak louder than words and she is done accepting his crumbs. She has never needed anyone, had even accepted when her own father wanted nothing to do with her; she has basically been prepping for this moment her entire life. 

So she goes shopping with Miri, buying gadgets that she has no idea how to use but that the other girl makes sound like things that she definitely needs such as a new home security system, her break in still fresh in her mind. She grins at the pretty smile on the other girl’s round face as she explains the specification of the machines around them and she can see why Han Seo has such a huge crush on the girl, the pretty blush that blossoms on the other girl’s cheek after stating the fact out loud is adorable and she pinches said cheek much to her chagrin. 

“You should worry about your own love life.” Miri teases but the words sting like acid on her skin and she turns away to hide the grimace on her face, but she’s not fast enough and the other girl catches her wrist halting her movement. 

“What? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Mr. Cassano?” Miri whispers the last part, looking around to make sure that nobody overhears them. 

She forces herself to stifle her emotions, trapping them in the back of her mind refusing to let him have this kind of affect on her. 

“I wouldn’t know.” She tries for a emotionless tone but even she can hear the bitterness in her own voice and Miri’s eyes fill with pity and it makes her sick to her stomach, “Don’t. I am going to be fine. Let’s just go.” 

They don’t utter single word in the car ride home. 

After that it becomes painfully obvious that everyone in the plaza thinks something is wrong with her and are teaming up to make her feel better. It’s the packed lunches that keep showing up on her desk without fail, her clothes being steamed and pressed for free, the way that they won’t allow her to be alone and there are countless spontaneous family game nights all ending with her drunk and being carried home. 

Tonight Mr. Tak is the unlucky volunteer, dragging her limp body in her father’s house and she thinks of all the times that they drank here together and a certain person was the one hauling her body to bed complaining and grumbling but that distractingly fond smile on his face that he only ever seemed to shoot her way. Her heart thumped loudly as he loomed over her and leaned in close, getting her hopes up only to brush her hair behind her ears and softly tell her, “Go to sleep now,” and she had never been obedient all her teachers could testify to that but when he looked at her like that she was powerless to do anything else but listen. 

“I miss him.” The traitorous words fall from her lips and vanish into the inky darkness of the night. 

A deep sigh from the left of her, “We know.” 

She feels vulnerable, the worst thing about having a weakness is other’s noticing too. She hates how weak she feels. 

“I am going to forget him.” 

The body supporting most of her weight tenses under her arm and she waits for his response, they all love Vincenzo- he had become their unexpected hero and leader in many ways. They would always take his side, she knows that. 

“If that’s what you need to do to be happy. Then, do it. Loving a man like Vincenzo isn’t easy.” 

She turns to look at him in genuine shock. 

“What? You thought I would tell you to keep waiting with no end in sight? You should know by now, you mean a lot to us too. Your happiness is important to us too, we’re a family.” 

“But we’re the Cassano family,” she challenges unable to accept that they could love her without Vincenzo attached, but Mr. Tak shrugs at the clarification, “We can be the Hong Family too.”

She feels her eyes swimming. 

“I should go inside.” 

She feels sober and more awake than ever, she stays up all night twirling the long strands of her hair in between her fingers. 

Thinking. 

Variety is the spice of life. 

She doesn’t know where she’s heard that but it’s those sage words that are the catalyst for her spontaneous decision. 

“Same as always? Silky with some body?” Her stylist peers into her eyes through the wide mirror and she hears herself say, “No I want a cut and some color.” Yu-jin raises one pretty tweezed brow but nods after a moment’s pause, “Okay. How short are you thinking?” 

And that’s how she starts her day with long thick hair that grazes her lower back and ends it with a short bob that tickles her neck. It feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulder, metaphorically and literally and she loves the face that she sees in the mirror, her eyes looking brighter than they have in months. She feels more alive, like a snake shedding its skin and becoming a newer and fresher version of itself. 

“Your hair?” That becomes the running theme for her day, shocked gaping mouths and hands reaching out for the hair that was once there.  She merely smirks at their palpable surprise, especially Seol-jin who doesn’t recognize her from behind. 

“I haven’t seen a pretty lady like you aro--Oh Ms. Hong! I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you, I am so sorry please excuse me!” The interpretative dancer bolts away leaving her to watch him bemused, she skips to Jipuragi with a pep in her step laughing loudly when Mr. Nam drops his coffee upon seeing her and the brown liquid goes flying and douses him in a sticky hot mess. 

It’s an entertaining day to say the least. 

Moments later when he’s finished cleaning himself up and changing into the cheetah print track suit that he insisted to keeping in the office, he mentions that a new postcard has arrived. She nods at the information, looking at her laptop and it’s only seconds later that she finally looks up and sees that he’s waiting for her response. She doesn’t have one. 

Forcing a tight smile on her face she replies, “Oh that’s great. Just put it with the others.” 

He does. 

But she can feel his eyes on her, his concern heavy and tangible in the air. 

She pretends not to notice and keeps clicking away on her laptop, only glancing over at the card once or twice. But it’s only out of habit. 

Nothing more. 

She starts going on dates with random men. Men she meets in coffee shops, on the streets, in bars, hell one time even the bookstore. She never meets the same man twice and they never get what they want but it does make her feel desirable and that’s all she’s looking for. 

“Where are you going?” Han Seo asks her curiously, Miri by his side as she struts out the plaza new perfume on her skin. 

“On a date. I’ll see you both later.” They both gape at her and can only watch with wide eyes as she sashays away, heels clicking with every step. 

Word spreads like wildfire and no one takes it harder than Mr. An, who calls her a “jezebel” and cries at the front of the law firm for hours, she has to step over him to go get lunch shaking him off when he latches on to her ankles. 

The others just look at her with sad eyes, filled with both understanding and disappointment. 

Much to her surprise the lunch boxes keep coming and her clothes are still pressed and starched to perfection though. 

She also starts taking self defense classes, Korea is much more dangerous than she had first suspected and she has to be able to protect herself because nobody is coming to save her.  Not anymore. 

It becomes a great outlet for her built up anger and her instructor praises her for being a fast learner. She grins and nods before flipping him and twisting his arm around his own neck in a modified sleeper hold. When he taps on her arm she squeezes tighter instead of letting go and he goes limp for a moment before she comes back to herself and releases him hastily with a quick apology, “Sorry!”

He rubs his neck, panting for air and she feels guilty, there's a tinge of that but most of all she feels powerful, more so than she has for a long time. 

It’s crazy but she finds herself asking him for drinks after class and even crazier is that he agrees even with her marks still there on his skin, the area bruised and red. He looks at her like she’s challenge that he wants to conquer, she lets him believe that’s possible. It’s only a bit of fun anyway, she has no plans for anything serious. 

Drinks turn into a drunken cab ride home with his hand on her thigh, hot through the thin material of her tights and they don’t feel right- too small and not rough enough but she’s moving on and she has no time to reminisce. 

There hasn’t even been a postcard lately. Message, loud and clear. 

When she shoves the keys into her door, he’s glued to her body leaving wet kisses on the long column of her neck and she tries to suppress the nausea that swims in her stomach, everything feels wrong and she hates herself for feeling that way. Why shouldn’t she fuck whoever she wants? He is probably doing the same thing, everyday on his beautiful private island. Kissing women that aren’t her and whispering dirty Italian words into their ears as he rocks back and forth, nary a thought of that Korean woman he knew once upon a time. 

Fuck him. 

She rocks back into the purposeful grind of the hips behind her, feeling the hardness that digs into the soft flesh of her ass and finally the door opens and they both tumble in haphazardly and he thrusts a hand under her loose shirt fingering at her breasts before a dark figure moves far too quickly in her peripheral and she hears her date cry out in pain. 

She almost faints at the familiar sight of the one person she never expected to see, the hard glint of his cold eyes as he twists the same hand that had just been fondling her chest. The grip looks painful, the wrist contorted in an unnatural manner. 

“What the fuck? You have a boyfriend?!” Her instructor cries out, voice high pitched falling to his knees as Vincenzo kicks his feet out from under him. 

She rolls her eyes, of course he would come now when she is trying (and failing) to get over him. 

Vindictively she answers the question, ‘No.” 

But that makes Vincenzo twist the wrist in his grip even tighter and she can see the bones breaking so she takes pity on the poor man, he didn’t sign up for a murderous mafia leader after all. 

“Just let him go. You have no right to do any of this.” 

He doesn’t listen right away and absently she wonders if she’ll need to test out her new moves on him, it would be satisfying to deck him square in the face. She dreams of that as often as she dreams of their reunion. Her feelings are...complicated to say the least. 

Then with a grunt, he throws the other man away like he’s trash and growls out, “Get out of here before I kill you.” 

She tries not be get turned on by that. But it’s a hard sell, her body already getting revved up. He’s telling the truth. 

The man wastes no time, jumping to his feet and bolting out the door without one backwards glance. Asshole, he was really just leaving her with a clearly unstable and dangerous man. 

“We need to talk.” Vincenzo squeezes out between clenched teeth, and her blood runs cold but she stares him dead in the eyes tired of this game they’ve been playing, if he’s here to end things she wants to know. 

“Okay. Then talk.” 

She looks insanely beautiful, with her hair cropped so short bringing his eyes to the tantalizing length of her neck. His eyes close in on a spot of moisture on her neck, he feels his blood boiling imagining that bastard touching any part of her.  She’s glaring right back at him, her chest rising and falling and he can’t help but check her out, it’s been months since he saw her in person the photo of her doing aerial yoga above his bed couldn’t compare to the tempest that is Cha-young in real life. 

The flat plane of her belly is on display under the white crop top loosely stretched across her chest which leads down to her slim hips and legs wrapped in white spandex, leaving very little to the imagination not that he hasn’t imagined her in far less many, many times. Too many times to count. Spilling across the silk adorning his king sized bed with only her name on his lips. 

She looks fucking hot. 

That makes it even more frustrating because he can still clearly see that bastard wrapped around her like a snake and his hands going up her shirt---he has to take a deep breath before he breaks something. Or chases that asshole to break his face. 

There’s so much he wants to say to her, so much he owes her. 

I missed you. 

I love you. 

Come with me. 

“Who the hell was that?” He says this instead then watches her eyes glint over into nothing but pure murderous rage. Wrong move. But he couldn’t help it, green eyed raged taking away his decision making abilities. 

“That’s all you have to say? Get out.” 

He wasn’t expecting rose petals and trumpets when he returned but he definitely wasn’t expecting this, her cold glare or another man in his spot. He thought she would wait for him, just as he had done for her. 

“Are you serious right now?” He counters, flabbergasted. 

“Deadly. Get out.” 

He clenches his fist, and then stomps out. Turning back but only to watch the door slam in his face. 

What the hell. 

It had only taken a letter from Han Seo to get him on boat that would take him to an open field and hours later he was soaring through the skies on a hot air balloon, on his way back to Korea. It was insane and he barely had time to explain to his family but Luca nodded at him like this was the only choice and told him that he would take care of everything, and he trusted those words more than he had ever trusted anything in his life.

“Vai a prendere la tua donna( go get your woman).” 

He had nodded, gruffly patting the other man on his shoulder before hopping over into the waiting boat. 

But he wasn’t so certain anymore that Cha-young was his. 

She seems different. Colder almost, she leaves whenever I mention your name and she goes on dates now. I think she’s moving on hyung, what are you going to do? 

Those words had been the scariest thing he had never seen. Scarier than every gun that had ever been pointed at his head. He thought what they had was something special, something that could stand the test of time and distance. He stared at the huge pile of letters on his bedside, all addressed to her. He had written one everyday since they had been separated, but each time he was too much of a coward to send it. In those letters he could say things that he could never say to her face, things like how much he ached without her by his side and how her smile was the only thing that kept him going. In those letters he could regal the ways he loved her, and how deeply she had been branded into his soul, every atom of his body belonged to her and her alone.  He would kill for her, die for her, anything she needed or merely wanted he would provide it, all she needed to do was ask. 

He could only share those feelings in the letters. 

He walks for hours, until he ends up at his old apartment the familiar door greeting him and he sticks his hand in his pocket before he remembers that he gave the key away, with a sigh he starts to walk away before the door creaks open and he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in months. 

“Hyung!” 

A warmth spreads across his back as a solid weight almost knocks him off his feet. He reaches one arm around his body, awkwardly slapping the face that is pressing into his collar. 

“You really chose to stay here.” 

He feels the nod on his shoulder, “Of course. It made me feel closer to you hyung, I missed you.” 

He grunts in response, before turning around and tugging the younger man into a real hug. He had missed the annoying little leech too, he had missed everyone. 

They are still in each other’s embrace for a moment before Han Seo pulls away, sympathy etched deep on his face. 

“She wasn’t happy to see you.” 

“There was someone else there.” He hates the words even as they leave his mouth and Han Seo winces, looking pained for him before tugging him into the small apartment. Everything is just like he left it.  He looks around in awe. 

“I’m sorry hyung. What are you going to do?”

That’s the golden question, he pondered it all the way here and he’s no closer to knowing the answer to that. Usually she is the one that makes the move, she has always been the brave one between them. He back steps and says things he doesn’t mean and she sees through him and smashes down all his walls. That’s how this has always worked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave her alone. Let her be happy.” 

A loud scoff reaches his ears, “Sure. Is that why you sailed across sharked infested waters and trusted a hot air balloon company run my former thugs?”

He smarts at the sarcastic reply and glares before flicking the cheeky brat on his nose, "I liked you better when you were stupid you know. Now you're a little smart ass."

The younger man looks even more youthful as he grins back at him, rubbing at his nose before shrugging.  "I learned from the best."

He has no rebuttal for that so he tries to flick him again, giving chase when he darts off.

It feels good to be home.

He warns Han Seo not to tell anyone that he's here least they give away his location.

So he's not surprised the next day to find the cavalry at his doorstep hands filled to the brim with containers of food. There are tears, mostly from Mr. Nam who won't stop screaming his name and pinching his cheeks to see if he's real and Mr. An who wraps around him like a koala despite his very detailed threats. It's all chaos and so familiar that his heart aches but her absence is like a hole in his chest. Nobody mentions her but they all keep looking at the door, so it's obvious that she was invited but chose not to come.

Because she didn't want to see him.

"You're here to win her back right?" He doesn't know who even utters the words but when he glances up they are all looking at him expectantly.

He didn't know that was what he was indeed here for thought that she would happily welcome him back and they could pick up where they left off but she's made it clear that this won't be the case. This will be the most important fight of his life.

"Yes. I'm here for Cha-young."

He gets enthusiastic thumbs up and a loud giggle from the Yeon-Jin  and Cheol-Wook’s adorable baby, her little hands too uncoordinated to do a thumbs up but she waves excitedly  feeding off the energy around her.

He wonders how Cha-young would look with a baby in her arms, their baby it's a dangerous thought. But one that he can't get out of his mind once he thinks it.

They stay until midnight, forcing him to eat and drink too much soju until he passes out to dreams filled with a round Cha-young, belly swollen and protruding from her body. 

It doesn't take much to learn her schedule(Mr. Nam hands him a laminated copy) and he has to put on a disguise but he enters the shop seconds after her, hearing her order that god awful sewer water she's so fond of.

"An espresso for me." He leans in too close, almost brushing her shoulder and she jolts at the sound of his voice, turning to stare at him as if she's a mirage.

"You're still here?" She whispers and then shakes her head and looks away as if she's hadn't meant to say the words aloud.

It hurts him that she thought he would leave without telling her but he can't blame her, he has been anything but consistent. Instead of answering, he leans forward to hand his credit card to the cashier who glances between them suspiciously before accepting the card.

Their orders are ready in seconds and he follows her as she walks to their table, butterflies in his stomach at the familiar sight.

She turns to him with a glare, "It's just the only available table."

He moves to pull out her chair and she starts at him tight lipped before sitting down. She's in a tight black suit today, two long slits on the side of her pants going all the way up to her thighs. He gulps down his drink to get rid of the drool pooling in his mouth.

"You're upset with me."

She stares at him like he's the biggest idiot on the planet, it's not a look he receives often but she's always the outlier in his otherwise organized life.

"Astute observation." She quips back, sucking loudly at her coffee.

"Why?"

He considered how to go about breeching this subject and in the end had decided on going straight to the source, he had been under the impression that this was working for them.

Her face morphs into a person he hasn't seen for a long time, the Cha-young that would berate him and make him angry enough to curse in Italian.

"Do you think this little of me?"

He's completely lost, "What do you mean? What did I do that was so wrong? Wrong enough for you to cheat on me!" He's panting now, his voice has gotten loud enough to catch people's attention he can feel them watching their table, nosy and invested.

"Cheat on you?"

Cold as ice, her voice is. It almost makes him shiver.

"How could I possibly cheat on you? We're not together. You send me the same postcard with the same message every few months. I have no idea what you're doing in Malta, who you're with. You can't even be bothered to send me a letter, do you think this is a relationship? You think it's enough to pop up like this every once in a blue moon? You've told me nothing about how you feel about me but I'm supposed to be satisfied with whatever you throw my way?"

If he wasn't sitting down his legs would have already given out he's certain about that. Her voice is deadly quiet each word landing and chipping away at his confidence.

"I'm doing the best I can! You knew it would be like this after everything was over, why are you blaming me now? How about you, I don't know how you feel either!"

"I love you! Anyone with eyes can see that, I told you that at the airport too. And again when I took a bullet for you, you didn't think that meant I loved you? I was willing to die for you."

Shit.

It's not at all how he expected them to confess their love for each other, it's hard to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth as she bares her teeth at him.

"So why are you doing this? Why are there other men?"

Why aren't I enough? He wants to say but he's scared of her answer, terrified that she'll say that she can't do this anymore. That he just isn’t enough anymore. 

She stares at him long and hard.

Waiting for something. But he doesn't know what.

"You haven't changed at all. You're still a coward, I'm not interested in guessing anymore. I’m done playing this game.” 

She stands up and walks away, leaving her unfinished coffee on the table.

Unwanted just like him.

She doesn't see him for days and she accepts that her words had done their damage, she had cried until she fell asleep that night. Waking up with swollen red eyes that no amount of concealer would save but thankfully no one commented on her state.

She goes through her day on autopilot and before she knows it she's back home, ready to face her night alone  again. She pushes the door open, half praying he'll be waiting for her but her hopes shattered when she turns on the lights and finds no one.

"It's better this way." She lies to herself, pouring herself an obscene glass of soju. She's going to need plenty of alcohol to get through this pain.

Her head is woozy and heavy when she hears a sound, suddenly alert she stills in her chair before rushing over to get a frying pan walking on the tips of her toes she prowls closer to the clicking sound, finding herself at the window peering at a long lost friend. Placing the frying pan on her window sill she pry opens the window, screeching when the audacious bird flies inside landing on her table as if he belongs there.

"Hey Inzaghi! Get your dirty bird feet off my table!"

He looks at her nonchalantly, making himself comfortable on said table and she sighs before shutting the window and drunkenly swaying over to him.

"What are you even doing there? Do you want to be my bird now, I won't be a very good owner. I won't remember to feed you. I barely remember to feed myself."

Despite being a bird he finds a way to roll his eyes at her before standing up and only then does she notice something on his leg. She looks at him cautiously before moving closer and untying the paper on his leg, the pigeon barely reacts before flying over to her couch. She sighs in annoyance, she's going to have to clean everything after this bird leaves.

She unwinds the string holding the paper together, unrolling the paper scroll. There is a message written inside: the rooftop. 9 pm.

Glancing at her clock the time shines at her.

7:34pm.

"This could be a trap."

It very much could be, she has enemies now. It was a small price to pay for taking down Babel but she's always looking over her shoulders now, so this note could easily be someone luring her to hurt her or get back at Vincenzo.

Inzaghi coos loudly at her as if he can hear her thoughts. This time he finds a way to look exasperated.

She stumbles off to her room.

She needs time to think.

"So she told you that she loved you and you didn't say it back?"

"I was shocked. She was growling at me and looked ready to kill me at the same time." He reasons back, trying to show his hyung his point of view. The younger man doesn't look even a little bit convinced by his logic.

"Okay and? That sounds perfectly normal for you too. You should have shot someone and wrote it back in their blood on the table."

He recoils in disgust at the suggestion, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you actually insane, why the fuck would I do that?"

Han Seo stares deadpan in return.

He puts up a hand trying to stop whatever response he has, "Don't say it."

It doesn't work.

"Pig's blood. Don't forget I saw it all, I've never seen Ms. Hong look so excited before. You're both crazy."

Well, that had been different. It was an old tradition, she simply had an appreciation for the classics.

"And I bet you're defending her right now in your mind. Noona is just like you, that's why you're made for each other. She's the gasoline to your fire."

"You know that would just make an even larger fire right?"

"Yes. I'm smart now remember? I know what I said."

He sighs falling into the comfortable familiarity of the couch, a spring digging into his thigh.

"Why didn't you say it back?" His stills at the barely whispered question, his chest constricting as he recalls the passionate confession. He had frozen, like he'd always known she was the brave one between them. Always doing the unexpected and the time was no different, her words had knocked him off his feet.

"Because I was scared."

Han Seo huffs at his honesty. He doesn't know where the words are coming from but he's tired of keeping it all in.

"Because if anything happens to her it'll break me, I thought it would be better if I kept her at a distance. I thought this was enough. I thought this would be easier. When I think about her I want to drop everything and just be with her and that...was too dangerous. I had to keep my distance."

There's a pregnant pause, just the sound of their breathing filling the void.

"Was it?"

"What?"

"Easier. Is this better? Enough?"

He thinks about Cha-young getting married to a faceless man, exchanging vows and sealing it with a kiss, happy and in love on their honeymoon wanton moans and screams from their room, learning that they're having a baby and her round and glowing with someone else's child smiling brightly as she rubs her belly and it's too much. He wants to smash it all into little pieces.

"No. It's not enough. I need her, without her nothing is enough."

"That's what you should have said to her. Don't glare at me I'm right, but I have an idea. I saw it in an American cartoon."

And that's how he lets his younger brother convince him to send a note to Cha-young using Inzaghi, the pigeon had shown up one night and he'd been so happy he almost kissed the bird.

"How will he know where Cha Young lives?" He asks skeptical even as he ties the note to the birds leg.

"I showed him a picture of her house. According to the cartoon, birds just know.” 

He stares at the younger man, wondering why he's listening to this ridiculous plan.

"This is stupid. I should just text her, Inzaghi is never going to deliver this. He's just a regular pigeon." 

"This is more romantic." He answers matter of fact.

"How is a pigeon delivering a message in anyway romantic?" He challenges already knowing from the shit eating grin he won’t like the response. 

"The same way pig blood was." The brat counters and he doesn't get a chance to respond before Han Seo picks Inzaghi up and throws him out the window, "In the name of love!" He only barely stops himself from bashing his head into the wall, the younger man has to wrestle him to the ground.

It's stupid. They did all of this for nothing the cool breeze makes him pull his coat tighter around his body, exposed to the weather on the open space of the rooftop.

He checks his watch, 9:48.

She's not coming and the worst part is that he doesn't know if it's because that damn bird never delivered his message or if it's because she really doesn't want anything to do with him. The burden of not knowing hurts more than anything.

Expelling the air in his lungs he walks back to the single door that leads off the roof, twisting the doorknob in his hand and pulling it open.

Meeting the shocked face of one Cha-young.

They both just stare at each other before he speaks, "You came."

He can't believe it. Inzaghi had actually delivered the note, somehow the pigeon had found her house and she was here. He almost pinches himself to see if he'd passed out on the roof and this was just a dream.

"I didn't know Inzaghi was a carrier pigeon." She futilely tries to change the subject and he takes a step back, gathering the tattered pieces of his courage. The same courage that had propelled him to kiss her all those months ago on the stairs.

"I'm so happy you're here. I waited for you."

She stares at him like he has two heads before blushing, and avoiding his eyes.

"Come with me." He extends his hands and tries not to be too hurt when she bypasses it and steps around him instead.

At least she was here.

With a quick swipe of his hand he sends the message to his accomplices.

Now.

The lights come on, fairy lights decorating the roof top in a heavenly glow. She spins around in wonder, eyes nearly as bright she's so beautiful it's almost painful to look at her.

Then the music starts.

The soft notes filling the space.

When I walk down a road I don't know well....

She looks around in wonder, staring back at him she can’t believe what’s happening. 

Then the letters start falling from the sky, all the letters he had written to her alone and missing her thousands of miles away. His plaza family smiles down at him, throwing letters from a higher building.

Cha-young stares up at the sky in surprise, hundreds of letters landing all around her.

It had taken a few days for Luca to send them all over and then another day to get the guts to do this, there was no turning back now. He had never willingly made himself vulnerable to anyone else, but according to Han Seo it was the only way he was going to win her back. 

“She just wants to know that you love her too. Show her.” 

He watches anxiously as she picks up a letter, stroking lightly at her own name on the front looking at him with stunned wet eyes. 

“You wrote me a letter.” Her voice is revere and awe that he doesn’t deserve, not after everything he has put her through in the sake of protecting himself but he’s too elated to see her looking at him like that again, like he’s someone important to her. 

“182. For each day we were apart. I told you I thought about you everyday, and every time I did I wrote you a letter.” 

She stares at the letter in her hand, gently ripping it open and devouring the words on the page. Nerves shoot up and down his body as he watches her read his most private thoughts about her, her expressive face for once empty of emotions as she silently reads the letter. 

He waits. 

Breathless and terrified. 

“Why didn’t you ever send them? They were mine so why did you keep them?” He hears an edge in her voice that makes him wonder if she’s only talking about the letters. 

“Cha-young, I don’t think you understand.” 

She breathes out loudly, stomping over to him until they are inches apart and he has no choice but to look into the deep pool of her eyes. 

“I don’t! I don’t understand anything, I thought you had found someone else in Malta and the postcards were just your way of being nice. I thought you didn’t feel the same way I did, you were sending Han Seo letters but you wouldn’t do the same for me. What was I supposed to think? Why didn’t you try to help me understand, you were gone for six months!” 

There’s so much wrong with everything she said, how could he find anyone else when his heart beats for her? How could he forget her when everything he did reminded him of her, he saw her every night in his dreams. But he doesn’t make the same mistake this time, he says what’s important. 

“I feel the same way. I love you Cha-young. I thought this was better for you, that this could be enough. But I was wrong, I missed you every minute of every--” 

“Come home with me.” 

He stops, stares, gapes and then stares some more. 

“What? I wasn’t finished confessing though.” Actually offended that she interrupted his planned speech. He was about to recite one of his favorite Italian love poems for her and then ask her to dance. 

She rolls her eyes dragging him towards the door, “Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time? It’s been six months and you have been here for too long, you have to go soon.” 

She’s right, he has a flight in two days for an identity he borrowed for his escape. 

“Listen to her, just go back to her place and have a good night!” That sounds like Cheol-Wook and then they all erupt into applause and start cheering and hollering, chanting their names and then to his embarrassment they start chanting, “Go have sex! Go have sex!” complete with the monks banging on their drums and he doesn’t think he will ever live down this moment, especially when he sees Miri capturing it on the new video camera he had gifted her. 

He flips them off as an eager Cha-young pulls him away their laughter following them all the way. 

The car ride is too long on the way over and she wonders how quickly she can undress them both as soon as they reach, there is simply no time to waste. 

But once they get to the doorstep he suddenly freezes, tugging her backwards into his chest. 

“This looks familiar doesn’t it?” His voice is dark and smoky and she immediately knows what he’s referring to, and she refuses to give him any reaction. 

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” 

“You let someone else touch you. Here.” He runs a hand up her neck, briefly squeezing, “And here,” she gasps at his hands suddenly on her breast, squeezing harshly at the tender flesh. 

“So what are you going to do about it?” She knows that she’s playing with fire, but that is their foundation. She has never aimed to cool him off or tone him down, she sees the dark side inside of him and loves it, encourages it and feeds on it herself allowing it to bring her darkness out too. 

He kicks the door open, shoving her side and she delights at the rough treatment. She hopes that she is filled with his bruises tomorrow. 

She doesn’t wait for his next move, pulling her shirt up and over her head before tugging off her skirt leaving herself in a barely there lace panties and a matching lace bra that is translucent, her nipples peeking through the sheer material. He stares at her transfixed, his hunger evident in his eyes and in the tent forming in his tight dress pants. 

“Take those off.” She commands and he smirks before obeying, peeling the pants off his thighs standing in his button down shirt and tight boxer briefs that leave nothing to her imagination, every delicious inch of him visible. She steps forward bringing their bodies in contact, before thrusting her hand inside the opening of his briefs. He feels hard and smooth, liquid pooling at the tip and she twists her hand collecting it to ease her slow strokes up and down. His voice hitches as she fingers his balls and without warning she tugs his boxers off, leaving him bare to her eyes. 

Mesmerized by the unencumbered sight of him, she drops to her knees using her hand to guide him to her eagerly waiting mouth. 

His flavor explodes on her tongue and she swallows more, grabbing his hips to drag him deeper into her mouth until she can feel him in her throat, but even after her eyes start to burn and she feels herself choking she doesn’t stop, bobbing up and down hungrily, sloppy wet sounds filling the room in a filthy symphony. At first he lets her control the movement, pliant in her hands but as she increases her speed and suction he starts groaning and huffing loudly and then she feels his hand on the back of her hand, keeping her in place and when she looks up at him he looks wrecked. Eyes dazed and his face red and flushed, she ingrains that image in her mind, for when he’s gone and all she has are her toys. 

She stares back defiantly before he draws himself out of her mouth, a single line of spit connecting them and then he thrusts back into her mouth roughly and she opens her mouth wider to accept the abuse, loving every second of it even as a her throat aches. He sets a frantic pace, his balls slamming against her chin and she doesn’t realize at first that his grunts have transformed into words, too much blood rushing to her head. 

“Mine. Mine, nobody can---ah fuck! Nobody can see you like this. Only me. You’re mine.” 

He fucks her mouth like it’s his to use and do what he pleases, and she’s wetter than she’s ever been listening to him claim her verbally and with the wet push of his dick in her mouth. 

She starts grinding on the floor like a cat in heat and without preamble he grabs her under her armpits and lifts her like she weighs nothing, his dick sliding free from her hot mouth, “I want to make you scream.” He says this like a declaration of love and she throws herself at him, kissing the words off his lips. His tongue swirls in her mouth and she wonders if he can taste himself in her. It makes her hotter and she grinds her barely covered pussy onto his naked length, groaning at the friction even though the thin layer separating them. 

He tosses her onto the bed and she doesn’t even remember them walking, his tongue and his wondering fingers had completely distracted her. 

She lays sprawled across the bed as he stares at her, like she’s feast he can’t wait to devour. 

“Nobody has been in here.” She doesn’t know if he’s asking a question or making a statement, but she feels that his jealousy is real. Seeing her with someone else had done something to him, guilt washes over her. If she had seen him with someone else she would have lost her mind too. 

“Nobody. I never brought anyone home before, that guy was a mistake. I was just hurt and missing you. I’m sorry.” 

He had abandoned her for six months and she didn’t owe him anything but his pain is her pain and they are stronger now, everything has been said. 

“Good.” 

Then he rips her panties away and buries his face between her legs, prying her wide open with his hands and lapping at her with his searing hot tongue. Immediately he has his wish and she screams, loud enough to fill the entire room. 

“Already screaming amore? It’s going to be a long night, I want to make you hoarse.”  

She doesn’t get a moment to respond before he’s back to licking and sucking at her most sacred part, fingers deep inside her as he thrusts and strokes alongside his tongue, his fingers and tongue moving in tandem and she tries to stifle the scream but a particularly deep fuck makes the sound erupt from her throat and her head feels dizzy from the overwhelming sensation. 

He has boundless energy it seems, as time drags by and she feels her body tightening up as he systemically destroys her, he never takes a break or pauses, slurping up all the liquid that drips from her and the sounds of him swallowing are beyond erotic. When a hand runs up her stomach and squeezes at a bouncing breast she can’t contain her moans of pleasure, crying out as his fingers pinching the tight bud of her nipple. 

“Please.” 

He coos in her, “So pretty when you beg.” Then he sticks his tongue as far as it can go and she hears the rush of blood in her head as her body shakes apart and her release gushes from her body, twitching when he laps it all up her oversensitive body recoiling from the overstimulation. 

She has never come like that before, most men have never put in the work necessary to make her come and she wasn’t one to fake it so her experiences with sex with someone else were few and far in between. 

This feels like nirvana. 

“You still with me amore?” The bastard looks so smug, looming above her naked arms on the side of her head, and she had no idea when he took his shirt off. 

“I can’t feel like my legs.” 

He chuckles loudly at the statement, grinning growing wider. 

“Well I can assure you that they’re still there and they will look great wrapped around my waist.” 

Raising to his challenge, although her body is still buzzing she wraps her legs around his waist, they feel like jelly but she finds the strength to follow through with her movement. 

“I was right they do look great.” 

“Well this would look great in me.” She counters, grabbing at his thick ruddy red dick jutting from his body and he rocks into her hand before knocking her hand away and taking himself in his hand. 

“Do we need a condom?” He asks her, looking like he is ready to stop at nay minute if she tells him that they do. 

“No.” 

She has been on birth control since she was a teen and there’s been no one for her since she met him, and she trusts that it’s been the same for him. 

“Thank goodness, I want to feel everything.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s easing into her, slow and steady. She lets him continue for a moment before she tightens her legs around his waist and pulls him in roughly, as deep as she can get him in this position. “Fuck, you’re so impatient.” 

“Shut up and fuck me already.” 

He grumbles at her calling her bossy, but she sighs when he draws out and slams back in with a quick snap of his hips. 

“Yes just like that!” 

He takes direction very well, repeating the motion until the bed starts to creak from their movements, he pistons in and out of her gone all semblance of gentle or slow, they have teetered into a speed that can only be defined as “break neck” and she feels her body sliding up the mattress as he pounds into her over and over again, she latches onto his neck eager to leave a branding mark on him and he groans at the suction, grinding harder into her and gripping her ass to force her to meet his vicious thrusts. 

Absently she feels him peeling her bra from her body, the only remaining item of clothing that has survived their coupling and she knows exactly when he sees the scar. The grotesque knitting of skin that had left a permanent scar on her shoulder, she almost covers it up but when she peels her eyes open he is staring at her mesmerized. 

“Don’t look.” 

He leans down to kiss it, the softest more precious kiss she has ever received in her life. 

He peppers more kisses all over, then strokes at it with a single finger. 

“I should have realized, this was your confession. I was an idiot. I will never be that stupid again, I love you so much. I would do anything for you. Anything.” 

He puts her legs on her shoulder, nearly bending her in half before resuming his thrusts but they are less frenzied now, it feels like lovemaking. Her eyes prickle when he kisses her scar with every downward thrust, whispering, “Beautiful, so beautiful. Every inch of you.” 

She cries out. 

With every thrust he kisses her scar, making her feel lightheaded and naked. 

When he moves them into a new position, her back to his front giving him better access to her scar, she loses herself as he whispers sweet nothings into her ears and litters the spot with warm kisses. 

She falls off the edge with his lips on her scar and him deep inside her, warm bursts filling her up before leaking out onto the bed sheets. 

“Today’s our last day.” 

Waking up next to him is torture, she tries not to ingrain that in her mind but it’s too late it’s already there. He blinks away the sleep in his eyes at her words and then nods solemnly in agreement. 

“Yes for this visit. But I’ll always come back for you.” 

She smiles brightly, “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.” 

They don’t leave the bed except to get breakfast and that ends with her laid across the kitchen table getting taken from behind after teasing him. He can’t seem to keep his hands off her new hair, twisting the short strands in his hands and yanking on them. She catches him looking at her heatedly more than once. 

Then they wind up in the shower, trying to clean up and getting dirtier instead, his hands tight in her hair and around her waist as he hoists her up to pound her into the wall. Making up for lost time. 

They get messages from their entire family, Vincenzo showing her a message from Han Seo asking if he’s going to be an uncle soon. She promises to embarrass him in front of Miri very, very soon. 

Both pretend they don’t feel the day fading away, bringing them closer to their goodbye. 

Tomorrow he will be gone again, but there’s no guessing now. She knows what she means to him now and that’s more than enough. 

She wakes up to an empty bed and a ticket to Malta, the ball is in her court. 

[jimlingss]

hi Kina! may I make a request for a sort of sci-fi au? yn dies but when she opens her eyes, some unfamiliar yet familiar dude takes off his vr goggles and goes “hEy hOw wAs iT?” maybe Joon? or JK? I don’t really mind

↳ Awaken Again

2k || 50% Fluff, 50% Angst || Kim Namjoon

You die with some regrets.

But mostly without. It was a rather unremarkable, mundane life but a happy one where you feel general satisfaction for the choices and decisions you made. Above all, you feel tired. Oh so tired. You’re ready to sleep for a long while. Perhaps forever.

So you surrender to the darkness. Not sure what’s next.

……………………

Suddenly, there’s a burst of light.

It floods your vision, stirring your senses, and a comfortable weight around your head that you didn’t know was there is lifted. A gasp is stolen from your lips, filling your lungs and you realize you’re alive again. It’s hard to see, for your vision to adjust as your lashes flutter, and you squint.

But it eventually does adjust and you see again. Namely, you discover a certain man with sparkling irises and a dimpled smile in front of you.

“Hey.” His voice is deep, soft. It ignites an emotion stowed deep in your heart. “How was it?”

Your mouth draws open and your feeble voice croaks out, “Namjoon?” 

His smile fades as he searches your expression and you fall out of the chair, frantically grabbing onto the sleeves of his white lab coat. You pull him into a hug and cry out, “Oh my god, Namjoon!” 

He’s stiff against your body, not returning your embrace, but you don’t pay any mind. You’re too overwhelmed from seeing him again. “Is-Is this heaven?” you ask while shutting your eyes and savouring the moment. 

“What? No.” He looks over his shoulder and you don’t know where to.

You pull away but keep him in your reach, your hands curled into his clothes. “But if this isn’t heaven, then how is this possible?”

Namjoon’s hands wrap around your shoulders and he takes a step back, lowering his height slightly to have his eyes connect to yours. “Y/N, do you know where you are?”

“What?”

“You’ve woken up to reality,” he enunciates gingerly and carefully. “You were just in a VR simulation for the past few years. We’ve been watching you.”

You don’t understand. It doesn’t make any sense. 

He’s scaring you. “What are you talking about? What’s going on, Joon?”

Namjoon leans back and looks towards the glass window. “Subject two has no recollection of past memories and no grasp of reality,” he deadpans in a monotone. “Will need monitoring for further investigation of potential symptoms and ramifications of simulation 230616.”

He turns back to you, a large distance kept between your bodies. As if you were strangers to each other. He merely says, “Everything will be okay.”

It does little to reassure you. And the Namjoon that you’re familiar with is nothing but reassuring.

Instead of dying, instead of surrendering to the darkness, you’ve been placed in a room with stark white floors, walls, a bed and a tinted window. Fluorescent lights burn your lids and you feel frightened, but it’s coming back to you. Slowly.

You cradle yourself, murmuring, “I am Y/N L/N.” 

They said you were placed in a simulation. “I am twenty eight.” The ninety years you lived wasn’t real. 

“I am a software engineer and scientist at Realtion.” 

You recall some parts as if they were distant memories of your childhood. Blurred. Faint. But even then, they’re merely fragments of a whole mirror, puzzles of a much larger piece. You remember being excited after you were picked to be one of the first to test the simulation. You remember getting into the chair, remembering placing the headset over your head and covering your eyes. You remember the countdown of a smooth, dulcet voice — the same one that had greeted you when it was all over.

The door opens and you jolt.

The person that enters is the same one you’ve been thinking about. 

Namjoon ducks his head to get in. “I don’t know why they make these goddamn doors so small.”

You smile unintentionally. But it’s easy to relax when it’s him.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” he says.

“Interrupting what? I’m being monitored like a lab rat. There’s nothing for you to interrupt.” To prove your point, you open your arms to your surroundings. It’s pretty obvious what they think about you considering the walls and floor are plush. This isn’t any different from a padded cell save for the few furniture pieces.

Namjoon shuts the door and gives you an incredulous expression. “Don’t be like that. They’re just worried.”

“Of my psychological state? Yeah.” You lean against the wall, seated on your bed. “Might be normal though considering I thought that simulation was my reality and I barely remember anything of my actual reality.”

He snorts. “The simulation has a few kinks, but we can iron it out. It might be a bit too immersive.”

You deadpan, “You think?”

Namjoon grins and takes a seat on the uncomfortable white chair by the desk. “It’s good to see you returning to yourself. Everyone’s missed you, Y/N.”

You hum a low note, looking away. 

It’s hard to cope and you’re still traumatizing on multiple levels, but that doesn’t mean your entire personality will suddenly up and vanish. If anything, you know you’re being rather snippy towards everyone — that you’re taking out your anger on them even though it’s unwarranted. It’s not like they were the ones who forced you to step into the simulation. It’s not like they knew this would happen.

But that doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.

Everything you lived for, everything you loved, your entire life — it’s been a lie. A virtual reality.

“Why are you here?” you ask after the silence is prolonged.

“I just wanted to check up on you.”

You pause. “How many.”

“How many…?”

You look back at him, gaze meeting his. “How many people were watching?”

Namjoon hesitates, but he answers you. “Just three. Me, Jimin and Hoseok.”

A scoff emits from your throat and you roll your eyes. You can’t believe all of the private moments in your life were being observed and recorded by others the entire time. You really were a lab rat and you still are.

“It’s confidential, Y/N,” Namjoon says. “You know that. Nothing unnecessary will be written in the final report.”

“It’s still intrusive,” you spit and soften, knees pressed against your chest as if physically curling into yourself is all the protection you have left. “It’s just….it’s just hard to cope with.”

“I know,” he murmurs gently.

“I don’t think you do,” you bite back. “I lived this entire life, this full life and to know everything was just a figment of my imagination, that nothing was real, that we—” You interrupt yourself. “Never mind.”

You know if you get too upset and your blood pressure spikes, a whole team might run in. Or maybe they already know Namjoon’s in here with you.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” he pipes up, reassuring but in the moment you want it least. “The world you were in, it was constructed by your subconscious. You couldn’t control it. And relationships are built on the people who are close to you.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You hope he doesn’t say it, but he does—

“So it’s only natural that we ended up married and with kids and all that.”

You scoff. 

There’s an array of emotions that overwhelm you. Hurt that Namjoon could brush off sixty years of your marriage like that and what was so entirely real to you. Mortified that others saw how your subconscious built an intimate relationship with a colleague of yours. Confused at what you feel, how you yearn for the man across the room who you once called your dear husband— but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

So these feelings aren’t real.

Right? 

“If it’s only natural, then how come we’re not together in this ‘reality’.” It’s a bold question, but there’s no point in reserving yourself. You’ve already lived ninety years, so you know what kind of regrets are born in the face of hesitation and miscommunication. Confrontation is easy after so much experience. “You saw everything, didn’t you? You watched it all?”

Namjoon is quiet. “I did.”

“Then what do you think?”

You want to ask him how he felt about it. If he viewed that life with cold eyes and an impassive mind or if he possibly felt something, even as a bystander. 

“Was our relationship really just a wild part of my subconscious, Namjoon?”

The hurt you feel burrows deeper when he turns away from you in an extended silence. Your lips part, about to tell him to go away, so you don’t confuse the simulation with reality. But he beats you to the punch—

“It was my fault,” Namjoon murmurs and your head whips up to him. Your gazes connect. “That night before you were going into the simulation, I said something I shouldn’t have.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I….I knew you were going into the simulation for two years, so I thought I’d take my chance and if the outcome was bad, I would’ve been gone by then. I was an idiot. I didn’t know this would happen, that it would affect your subconscious so much.”

You slide off your bed, brows furrowed. “What did you say to me?”

Silence.

You come closer to him, raising your voice— “What did you tell me, Namjoon?!”

“I said I couldn’t stop thinking about you!” Namjoon’s eyes are darkened with regret, burning with embarrassment and shame. “We went out for drinks and I drank too much and I told you that if you wanted me to, I would wait for you. Until this was done.” He pulls a hand through the blonde strands of his hair, and he gets up from his spot. “There’s no point. You don’t remember it.”

But you grab him before he leaves, clutching the sleeve of his white lab coat. “What did I say?”

Desperation aches deep within you. A curiosity that eats at your brain.

Namjoon looks back at you and relays the memories you don’t have. “You said I shouldn’t wait for you, but if things don’t change and the timing is right, you’ll give your answer when you get back.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Namjoon searches your expression. It’s an intimate moment without interruption where you don’t care who might be watching or if there’s someone on the other side of the window. It feels like there’s just you and Namjoon. All that really matters.

Yet he forces you to let go of him. “I don’t want you to get confused with the simulation and reality.”

“Does it matter if it was real or not? What I feel is real. What I feel for you is real,” you spit as your annoyance surges. “Everyone keeps telling me what’s real or fake but no one wants to acknowledge that my experiences were real to me! Isn’t that the point of the simulation?!”

Namjoon’s eyes have widened. Your breathing is ragged, chest falling and rising. “I spent sixty years with you, Namjoon! We grew old together. And do you know what my first thought was when I saw you again?” You laugh bitterly. “‘Thank god he’s here, I can be with him again’.”

There are tears in your eye, welling up and blurring your vision. 

Namjoon doesn’t utter a single word. He doesn’t make any excuses, any rebuttals, and doesn’t argue. He stops invalidating what you feel and instead closes the distance and embraces you.

His arms wrap around your shoulders and you lean into him, savouring it and shutting your eyes.

You know Namjoon’s worries have merit to it, that the others will think the same as he does. They’ll think you’re confusing the simulation with reality, that your ability to differentiate has weakened, that your feelings were manifested and nurtured by the simulation. They’ll think this isn’t real. 

But time will tell.

You’ve already stood the test of time with Namjoon once. You have a feeling, a second time won’t be difficult.

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

You’re Here

Pairing: sirius x fem!reader

Summary: it’s sirius’ birthday, so the reader decides to finally confess their feelings.

a/n: eeeeee I’m back!! Sorry it was such a long break, I can’t promise this is a permanent return but it’s Sirius’ birthday today so I had to do a special fic for him xx hope you enjoy!!

wordcount: 2k

…

He sat in front of the fire, the warm glow from the dying flames flickering on his face, in a way that could easily enchant anybody who happened to be watching the scene. In fact, it already had. y/n was sat on the sofa, pretending to be engaged in the conversation happening around her as she couldn’t help but let her eyesight drift back to the raven haired boy sat in front of her. She’d noticed this starting to happen in their fifth year, and despite knowing what it meant and trying to push the feelings away, here she was in her last year of Hogwarts, still hopelessly in love with her best friend.

“Well, I think I’m going to head upstairs.” His soft voice entered the conversation, as he stretched and dragged himself off the floor, sleep clearly weighing his eyes down. The group of friends all wished him a goodnight and a brief silence settled over the common room as he left, leaving the group of four friends to sit with their thoughts for a second.

y/n sat with her knees pulled up, thinking of her friendship with Sirius, how close they had always been. She’d been part of the Marauders since that first day on the train, and had always loved the four of them, but she couldn’t help the pull she had to Sirius. Maybe how it was despite everything he’d been through with his family, he was never scared to be vulnerable around her. Maybe it was how no matter how many girls he kissed, he would save his brightest smiles for her, and would (and had) drop any of them the second she had said she needed him, no matter how insignificant an outsider might have thought the reason to be. Wrapped up in her thoughts, she felt her cheeks warming, a combination of the warmth from the fire and the warmth from her heart. However, when a voice finally broke through the silence, embarrassment won over, heating her cheeks more than anything had so far.

“Merlin, y/n, you look like a lost puppy. Can you both please just admit your feelings to each other so we can get past this.” She glared at James between her fingers, throwing a pillow with deadly aim, smirking as he squeaked in surprise. “I do mean it though, there’s nothing to lose.”

“He does talk about you constantly. It’s rather sweet, if you forget how annoying it is.” Remus piped up, putting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “You both know how the other feels, you’re just too scared to say it out loud, in case you cross a line you can’t go back on.”

“And this middle ground won’t stop things from going south, if you never talk about it.” Peter added as the boys began to collect their things, clearly going to join their dormmate and retire for the evening. As they all said their goodnights, y/n sat alone thinking over their words, a plan forming in her mind as she glanced out the window at the glistening October sky.

…

She sat at her desk, November 2nd, folding the parchment once the ink had dried, sealing it and carefully writing his name on the front. She waited in the common room, heart racing as the fire died beside her, up much later than was healthy, but determined, the anxiety helping to keep her awake as she waited for the elves. Finally they came, and with a kind smile and a little pleading, they promised to take the letter from her and leave it and the end of Sirius’ bed, amongst the pile of presents that was undoubtedly there for when he woke up. She smiled to herself, glad that so far everything had seemed to go smoothly, and went back to her dorm to try and sleep, feeling finally that good things were on their way.

Sirius woke up to the cheers and whoops of the boys, singing a badly harmonised happy birthday tune. He laughed, sitting up and reaching to start opening his presents, knowing the harassment would only end when he had done so. He spotted a letter with his name on it in familiar handwriting, one for sure he knew hadn’t been there when he had gone to sleep the night before, and quickly slipped it under his pillow, deciding to read it when the boys weren’t watching his every move. He flew through the present opening, and soon enough his three friends were preoccupied in getting ready for their classes, giving him the spare few minutes he needed to inspect his most interesting present of all. He carefully unfolded the letter, his heart rate picking up as he spotted y/n’s handwriting and how carefully it had been written, free from the usual scribbles and splotches he saw when she wrote.

Siri,

Happy birthday, love, I know you were worried about today, with it being the first birthday since you moved in with the Potter’s, but today’s about you, and your real family are all here to celebrate with you, and for you, as you turn seventeen and start to think about life past graduation (with all of us by your side, of course). I know this is a slightly unconventional present, and I would appreciate it if you kept this a bit of a secret for the boys, for now at least.

I just wanted to say how proud I am of you. You’ve faced more than I could ever imagine and had to grow up so fast, but you’ve always been unwaveringly loyal to your friends, considerate and kind throughout it all, truly striving to become the opposite of who you were raised to be. I’m so, so, glad that you took my hand that day on the platform, bringing me into your carriage on the train. I couldn’t picture a life without you, and sometimes I forget just how insanely lucky I am to have you around. Believe that, because I know you’re feeling sceptical right now, but I mean it. You’re phenomenal in every way.

Y/n sat at the table in the great hall, eating a pancake and sipping on her tea trying to push down her nerves waiting for the marauders to come and join her as they did every morning. Hopefully, Sirius would have read the letter by now, and she could have some closure either way. Preferably not one way, though. She heard them before she saw them, the loud laughs bouncing through the Entrance Hall, recognisable to anyone in the school. Despite her nerves, she couldn’t help but smile as they walked in, enthusiastically waving to her as they walked over, sitting down in their usual seats. Some of the tension dropped from her shoulders as Sirius sat next to her, gracing her with a smile.

“Happy birthday, Siri.” She smiled, heart catching as his fingers grazed hers under the table. Was it intentional? “Get any nice presents this morning?” She hinted, hoping she could keep up the façade if everything crumbled around her. To her glee, his smile stretched a little wider, a glint in his eye she knew, one that meant he was keeping a secret. Luckily, she was in on it too.

“Couldn’t have asked for anything better.” He smiled, staring straight at her, winking quickly before turning away and filling his plate up with food. She grabbed his hand more firmly under the table, feeling her confidence grow even more when he squeezed it back. She smiled down at her plate, barely believing this could be happening. The rest of breakfast passed in a blur and soon they were heading their separate ways to classes. With one last birthday wish, y/n and Sirius were dragged away from each other, more reluctant than ever before to be anywhere but at each other’s side.

I also wanted to thank you. You’ve never failed to be there for me, whenever I’ve needed you, without having to say a thing. You make me laugh impossibly hard, to the point where I can’t breath and my sides hurt almost constantly. You have a way of twisting anything into something positive and you truly make me believe you when you tell me that things will work out okay. I think in part, I believe they will be okay, because it’s you. With you, everything is okay. In fact, okay is a major understatement. With you, everything is perfect and right.

After dinner, an hour full of more stolen glances and secret hand-holding, y/n had urged the boys upstairs while she carried onto the seventh floor, pacing in front of the tapestry until a door appeared. She walked across the room lightly, trying to focus as she decorated but her thoughts kept drifting back to a certain man, and even though she was fairly sure of the outcome, she couldn’t help but keep the nerves at bay.

You’ve always been the best of friends to me Siri. But if I’m being honest, for a long time now you’ve also been so much more than that. When I’m with you I can feel truly safe, like no matter what happens it can’t touch me because you’re there and you dull everything else. I would be lying if I said I was indifferent to your charms. You’re utterly gorgeous, and my heart flutters when you give me that brilliant smile, the one that I know you save just for me, the one that makes me fall a little harder every time I see it. Your touch is electric, nothing else can be simultaneously so adrenaline-sparking and so comforting. I love the fact that you learned to braid hair for me now that Lily’s all busy with James. Sirius, I love you.

And unless I’m horribly mistaken, I think you love me too. Our friends seem to think so. So tonight, I’ll be in the Room of Requirement with some music, waiting for a dance. If you don’t show, I completely understand, and I won’t bring this up again. But if you feel the same, I hope this was a good enough birthday present for you to.

Yours, if you’ll have me,

Y/n

She finished lighting the last candle, hearing the door handle turn behind her, and the soft creek of the old door opening. She turned, seeing him stood there, the letter in his hand, usual confident aura gone in favour of one that was utterly relaxed. Her face broke out into a breath-taking grin and she bounced forward the few steps that it took to close the gap, straight into his open arms.

“You’re here.” She breathed, finally feeling all the tension and the nerves leave as she admired him, eyes searching his for any trace of doubt and finding none.

“Of course I’m here, there’s no where else I’d want to be.” He smiled, stuttering her heart. “Thank you for the letter, I’ll cherish it forever.” His hand moved to cup her jaw, as the other stayed circled around her waist. She couldn’t do anything but stare at him, completely enthralled in the moment, lost in him. The record playing softly changed to a new tune, and Sirius slowly began to sway the two of them, moving ever so minimally to the beat of the music, neither able to look away from the other.

“I’ll write more.” She broke the silence, “I’ll write them forever as long as you enjoy them. I’ll give you everything I can.”

“I only need your heart. That’s already more than I could imagine.”

“It’s been yours for a long time. Keep it, I like the way you love it.”

“I do,” he breathed out, watching her eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion. “I love it. I love you, y/n.”

He leaned in closer, seeming to hesitate for a moment, looking into her eyes, seeming to ask permission. She nodded, maybe too eagerly, eliciting a laugh from him as her eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his lips to hers, slowly and softly moving together before they broke apart again.

“Happy birthday, love.” She smiled, leaning in again as the dance was all but forgotten.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Thirty One

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Warnings: Cursing and some angst my bad Summary: Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one.

“I’ve seen you pull some reckless shit, but launching yourself into the middle of an active and radioactive debris field with a ship on the verge of breakdown under you, that’s… That’s gotta be top five,” Eli commented as Pollard scanned me. I shot him a tired look. “I didn’t have any other options.” “I know,” He shook his head, “But...Damn, kid.” “I’m back, I’m one piece, so maybe save the lecture for some occasion where I wind up in a biobed.”

“Heart rate is still a little high,” Pollard commented, stepping around in front of me and shining a light in my eyes. I startled a bit at the sudden flash before I settled. 

“And when was the last time you slept?” She added, brow furrowing. “I feel like if you really wanted to know, you would’ve asked before I piloted.” Pollard gave me a stern look that probably should’ve made me wilt, but adrenaline was still coursing through my body. “How do you feel?” She asked, a little imperious. “Like I’ll be happy if I never get behind the controls of an attack fighter again.” That made her smile a bit, at least. She nodded. “I want to check on you again before you leave the ship, make sure that heart rate is back down where it’s supposed to be.” “Yes ma’am.” “And get some sleep. I am not above sedating you.” “...I believe that.” “You might wanna get that hypo ready now, doc—” “Can it, Durling,” I cut him off, reaching for my jacket. He gave me a disapproving look as I stood. Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one. If I lay in the dark, my mind would just run through what I had done, all of the ways that it could’ve gone wrong. I was sure that this experience was going to be no different; if anything, the possibilities for a different outcome were increased. “You heading for the gym?” Durling asked as we walked out of the medbay. It was a fair question, but as comfortable as my civvies were, I certainly wasn’t prepared to be sparring in them. “Nah, not this time. You got a report to file?” I asked. “Yeah— Hey,” Eli reached out, taking light hold of my shoulder, “I need to talk to you.” “Look, I will get some sleep—” “No, not about that,” He shook his head. He glanced around the hall, quiet as someone passed us before he turned back to me, “It’s about my assignment after this.” “...Okay,” I frowned. “They’re giving me the Pinnacle.” Confusion melted from my face and I grinned, socking him in the shoulder, unable to contain my excitement. “Eli! That’s amazing— Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh, congratulations!” I squealed, drawing him in for a hug. He chuckled, patting my shoulder before leaning away. “We had a job to do first,” He shook his head. “That’s why you weren’t putting the tag down yourself, huh?” I asked. “There’s something else.” “What else could there possibly be?” “I need a first officer.” “Oh. So who are your candidates?” Eli’s brows rose, and he tipped his head forward a bit. Realization washed over me slowly, and I found myself fighting the urge to shake my head and ask him what the hell he was thinking. “What?… Eli—” “Hear me out,” He pleaded softly, “You know my every move, you get how I operate, you don’t let me get away with shit, you know when to push and when to pull… And I swear I did not mean that the way it sounded.” “Bullshit.” “See?” He pointed out before tacking on, “Look, don’t answer me right now. I know it’s a big decision, just… Just think about it.” I gave him a small nod in concession, a murmur of promise that I would. But as I watched his retreating back, I already knew what my answer was. --

The canteen was basically deserted. I walked over to the replicators, leaning heavily against the wall beside it and scrubbing my hand over my face. “Black coffee, four shots of espresso— splash of caramel creamer.”

“Are you planning on having a heartbeat after that?” I did, but mine skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “The caramel is just to sweeten it a bit,” I justified, “Doesn’t taste the same as the Una Matrix, so I’ve gotta make do.” I glanced back to find him leaning against a table nearby. “Everything alright on the Bridge?” I asked, turning back to the replicator. “Fine,” He conceded, “And the shuttle bay?” “Uh…” I straightened, taking hold of the mug, “Well, Jett is cursing my name. Apparently Eli’s messed up a number of phaser cannons but having a damaged warp nacelle and a punctured cabin really takes the cake.” “Is that much coffee advisable after what you’ve just done? I’d think some rest would be in order.” “And Dr. Pollard would agree with you, but I can never sleep after tags,” I admitted. I cleared my throat, “So, how... “ It had been way too long to ask about how he was, hadn't it? We’d been on the same ship for hours now— “How’s um— Spock?” Christopher’s brows rose a little. “He’s...Taking leave.” I frowned. “That’s unlike him.” “Well, the war took its toll on the crew, such as it was.” I nodded a little, leaning back against the wall again, “I can understand that.” Christopher’s head tipped to the side, brow furrowing. “How so? I mean no disrespect, Commander, but you were very much in the thick of it.” “Yeah, but,” I lowered my eyes to my drink, “You all...Had to wait, I guess. You got your news about people that you were concerned about in a delayed fashion, and from a distance— all secondhand, second rate. Maybe some of the crew held themselves back from reaching out to people, not sure how they’d take it, not wanting to distract them... That time, that distance, it can wear someone down.” It was a moment before I heard Chris take in a deep breath. “We should talk,” he said softly. “We are talking,” I pointed out. When I glanced up to look at him, I found an unimpressed little frown affixed to his lips. I rolled my eyes a little, pushing away from the wall and nodding for him to follow me: “C’mon.” I was relieved to hear his footfalls behind mine without a moment’s hesitation. “I know where the quiet spots are and I’m willing to bet you haven’t found them yet.” “By Ensign Tilly’s account, you were only on this ship for a couple of days,” Pike commented. “Yes,” I nodded, “And in that time, she told me where all the cool kids hang out. From there, I used those tips, the ship’s directory, and the process of elimination to find a few quiet spots.” I peered into a small suite and found it empty. The outer wall was wrapped with a window. There was a desk with a reading lamp on one end of the room and a loveseat and side table on the other end. “This alright?” I asked, nodding inside. Pike peered around before stepping in fully. I took that as a yes and followed him in, the door sliding shut behind us.  “What’d you come in here for?” He asked, looking around. “Studying, once. I had to brush up on my Klingon while I was aboard,” I told him, sitting down on the loveseat. I set my coffee aside for a moment, shrugging my jacket off and draping it over the arm of the seat before picking my cup up again. I watched Christopher drift around the room, taking it in, his fingers trailing the wood of the desk. I leaned back against the cushions, taking a long pull from the coffee and wincing from the taste. “Too much coffee?” “Just not as good as the Una Matrix,” I justified. I glanced up at him to find him leaning back against the desk, arms folded across his chest. For a moment the both of us just… looked. It reminded me of the moments in his Ready Room before we beamed down to Sandblossom— but we were so different now. “So who told you?” I asked. “Una.” “How’d that go?” Christopher averted his eyes, tipping his head forward a bit, “Well, she… Sat me down, laid out Spock’s timeline, let me know that you were on the Pinnacle.” “Can I ask when that was?” “You’d been aboard for about a month.” That couldn’t have been very long after Una had called me, then. I could only imagine her demeanor when she’d told him. I nodded a bit. “I don’t… I do not know how much Admiral Cornwell told you, but she—” “Kat mentioned before she left that she had you give your word not to contact the Enterprise.”  “Okay.” “Though I am a little surprised you kept to it,” Christopher admitted. I considered that for a moment, fingers tapping along the side of my mug. “Sometimes I couldn’t believe it either. I hated it. But...Cornwell told me that you were determined to come back to Somonia for me, when you heard about the negotiations—” I watched as Chris pushed himself away from the desk, drifting over to look out of the window. I saw the tight pull of his shoulders, the wringing of his hands where he had them clasped behind his back. “Besides that,” I added quietly, “I was sure that being so removed from the war was weighing on you all in some estimation. And after Una contacted me…” I shook my head, “I'm not sure how I would've handled speaking with anyone else from the Enterprise.” Christopher frowned, and I could see the question forming as he turned to look at me. I raised a hand to halt it: “We’re fine. We spoke when the ship was docked on Earth recently.” “How long were you two out of contact?” “A while,” I answered flatly. Christopher shook his head a little bit. I slouched down against the cushions. “Why didn’t—...” I started before I stopped myself, cringing. “What would you have wanted me to say?” He asked knowingly.  “Anything, Christopher! I didn’t even know that you knew.” I set my coffee aside and rested my elbows against my knees, running my hands over my face. “I didn’t think you would want to hear from us after we left you there.” He said it so softly, with such abject confidence; it nearly split me in two. I lifted my head, brow drawn, disbelieving of what I’d heard, only to find that Christopher had turned back to the window, chin tipped toward his chest. “...After you—… No,” I sighed, pushing myself off of the loveseat, “No, you didn’t.” “We should’ve turned around,” The assertion followed fast, his voice tight, “We would’ve found you— We would’ve been in range for the war, none of this would’ve happened.” I stopped a couple of steps from him. There was a time when I wouldn’t have hesitated in reaching out to touch him, to draw him in, but I wasn’t sure anymore. “I saw the pictures that you got from Starbase 329,” I said softly, “It was a crater, Christopher, there was no way you could’ve known. And Choholl and I were so far underground for stretches at a time, you may not have been able to find us, even if you had turned around.” He turned his head toward me a little, but did not meet my eye. “I considered reaching out,” He admitted softly, “But I didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi’ seemed...inappropriate, and… And I was worried.” “About what?” “You. What you said, about not wanting to distract someone, keeping yourself at a distance…” He trailed off, nodding, “Does take its toll.” I watched him for a moment, considering this. Christopher had thought about me. I supposed that that was some consolation, at least; I hadn’t been alone in my hours spent curious and lonely. “So,” I said lightly, turning to face the window as he had, “What happens after this mission?” “Back to the Enterprise, ideally,” Christopher answered; his voice was firmer now, a little more self-sure now that I'd turned to a topic he was likely more comfortable with. I felt him turn to look at me as he asked, “Do you...Know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. Command did mention something about reinstating Larilia to the Federation, now that Choholl has everything under control. They’re going to need a new attaché, they asked if I’d be interested.” I felt him tense beside me, “And what did you say?” “That I’d retire first.” He huffed a soft laugh, and I smiled a little. My mind drifted to the offer given to me earlier, and I shook my head a little bit. “What is it?” He asked. “Nothing.” “Are you sure?” I hesitated, “Eli is being given the Pinnacle. He needs a first officer and he… He offered me the position.” I turned to look up at Christopher, and I saw the split second of surprise before he schooled his face into a small smile. “What are you thinking?” He asked. I shook my head, turning away again. “I’m going to tell him ‘no’. Just haven’t worked out how yet.” “Why are you turning him down?” “Well, he needs someone— You know, more like Una. I am not like Una.” “... Well, you did take Onafuwa’s one-day intensive.” It took me a moment, and I opened my mouth to respond, but I could not help the laugh that bubbled up. I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to quiet the sound, but Christopher laughed, too. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like it used to— light, and warm. I looked at him, and found that grin that I’d missed; the crinkling around his eyes and the dimples. And as we quieted, as we found one another just looking again, I felt my eyes prickle with tears. I hurried to look away again, turning back to where I’d set my coffee and walking back to it. I settled down onto the loveseat, taking a long pull from the mug and using it to cover a small sniffle. I expected Christopher to stay where he was, but he followed, sitting down beside me. He was close— but then, the loveseat was small, he had no choice but to be close. “You really ought to rest,” He said quietly. “I can’t,” I shook my head, “After one of those—” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, “My head just doesn’t settle right.” “Is it always like this?” I nodded a bit. I felt Christopher shift beside me a little before I heard him mutter, “C’mere.” I glanced over and did a double-take, my heart leaping into my throat when I found him leaned back, his arm thrown over the back of the loveseat. “What?” “Come here,” He urged more softly, nodding me closer. I narrowed my eyes at him before I set the coffee down, shifting a little closer. I was nearly pressed fully against his side this way, from knee to chest.  “Put your head down,” He urged, nodding to his shoulder. “Chris—” “Just try it.” I huffed, irritated but did as he said. His arm curled around my shoulders. “Close your eyes.” “If you really think is is going to work—” “So stubborn,” He mumbled, resting his chin atop my head and my eyes fluttered shut at the comforting weight, “Stubborn as stone.” If Christopher thought that this was going to calm me down, he was severely mistaken; my heart was pounding out of my chest, my stomach was twisting itself into knots. I hadn’t felt worked up like this since after Koutov. Christopher’s fingers trailed over my shoulder softly, and I found myself reaching out and setting my hand on his jacket. “...The blue’s...Different,” I commented. “Wanna command the ship, you’ve gotta wear the uniform,” He pinched the sleeve of my t-shirt as he said so. I rolled my eyes a little. “Good thing I don’t wanna command, then,” I muttered. Christopher’s chest shook with a quiet laugh. “Gotta say… it is a good thing you’re turning Durling down, if only for the fact that you seem to fight so much,” He said. “It’s all in good fun… Mostly in good fun.” “The two of you seem close.” I glanced up at Christopher. “We’re friends,” I nodded. “Close your eyes,” He muttered, poking my shoulder when he saw me looking at him. I huffed, doing as he said. My fingers absently skated over a section of the gold braiding covering the zipper on the jacket, unable to keep still. “That wasn’t an accusation, by the way,” He added. “Sounded like one.” “Wasn’t.” “Mm.” I wasn’t sure what it was— the hum of the ship around us, or the steady rise and fall of his chest under my hand, or just the feeling of being by Christopher again, but I felt myself relaxing, eyelids and limbs growing heavy. “We should— I should finish my coffee,” I mumbled after a while. “Why’s that?” Christopher murmured. “‘M gonna fall asleep.” “Good.” I smiled a little, “‘M gonna fall asleep on you.” “You’re already falling asleep on me.” “So...Should move.” “You comfortable?” “Mmmmmhm.” “Okay.” That okay was all I needed. I cozied deeper into Christopher’s side, unabashedly cuddling up against him, and I felt his hand smooth soothingly over my arm. In my haze and weariness, the tears that I’d managed to push down before welled up. Now, though, I felt too tired to hide them again. A few leaked from my eyes, and I pressed my face into his shoulder. “I missed you so much,” I admitted quietly, hand fisting in his jacket. I felt his grip tighten on me, his other hand covering mine, thumb skating over my knuckles. “I know,” Christopher whispered; I could feel his lips quivering as they brushed my temple, “I missed you, too.” Tag list: @angels-pie​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​ ; @inmyowncorner​​  ; @tardis-23​  ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish ; @elen-aranel​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @hotchswifey​

[easily-infatuated23]

The Nanny

request: “Hello, could you write something where a few years after the death of his wife Draco hires a new nanny for Scorpius and ends up falling in love with her... could have anguish, but the ending would be happy? Please!My first language is not English I'm sorry if you got confused.” - @trouxa2x  

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted! and your english is great don’t worry :) also-there is a phone call which is in italics and song lyrics for La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf in italics

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Nanny!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mention of death for like a moment

summary: After the birth of his son and the death of his wife, Draco Malfoy needs a nanny 

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

The day Draco Malfoy’s son was born was the happiest and saddest day of his life. His loving wife Astoria had been diagnosed with a blood curse that killed her moments after Scorpius was born. His first breath, had been her last. Although he knew this would be the likely outcome, it was still crushing. Draco didn’t like to talk about his emotions and knew the only way to get over his wife’s death would be to burry himself in his work as a Healer. But with a baby, he couldn’t just shut out the world. He needed help. It was obvious he was struggling.

During the long process of making amends after the war, Draco had some how become close to the golden trio he had despised so much as a child. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had all come by to meet Scorpius and check in on Draco. He looked awful. The bags under his eyes were worse than during the war. “I have a friend who is looking for some work as a nanny, she’s great with kids, babies especially. I’ll get you her number” Hermione said, rummaging through her purse looking for her contacts book. Draco nodded slightly. He had considered getting a nanny but the idea of another woman acting motherly toward Scorpius made him feel sick. However, Draco politely took the number and thanked Hermione.

As the months continued on Draco found it easier to care for Scorpius. He had taken up a job as a consultant for the hospital so he could spend most of his time at home with his son. But as the months stretched into years, Draco grew depressed. Scorpius became fussier and fussier and the hospital was begging for him to come back as a full time Healer. “It’s time” Draco thought. He looked through the drawers of his desk until he found the phone number Hermione had given him nearly two years prior. He dialed the number, feeling anxious and unsure of exactly what to say.

“Hello?” a female voice answered.

“Hi um is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she, may I ask who is calling?”

“Oh yes um this is Draco Malfoy. I’m a friend of Hermione Gran- I mean Weasley’s.”

“Oh hello! I remember she mentioned a few years back you might be in need of a nanny.”

“Yes! Well, I had been handling it pretty well but now I am finding myself in need of some help so I can go back to work…”

“I see. Let me guess, those ‘terrible two’s’ are in full swing right about now” she chuckled.

“Yes exactly! I was wondering if you would consider interviewing to become a live-in nanny for my son Scorpius. I am not sure for how long or what I would pay you but-”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she interrupted. “I’m sure we could conduct a formal interview as well but may I come over and just meet Scorpius first? I find that sometimes the baby will tell the parent whether or not the nanny is the right fit, even before an interview.”

“Yes of course. Can you come over around 11 am tomorrow?”

“Yes. See you then. Good day”

“Thank you, cheers”

He hung up the phone. He looked over at Scorpius sitting in his high chair. The baby gurgled and threw some cereal to the ground. Then seeing his cereal on the ground, Scorpius started to wail at an incredible volume. The interview couldn’t come soon enough. The next day at 11 am sharp, Y/N knocked on the door. When Draco opened it, she was met with the chaos that had become his daily life. The house was a mess and Scorpius was screaming. “Hi, welcome. Sorry about the mess” he stammered, showing her into the house. “Nice to meet you Mr. Malfoy” she replied cheerily. Seemingly unfazed, she walked into the living room, put down her purse, and sat down next to the screaming baby. Draco watched her as she began to rub the baby’s back and started to softly sing. The baby slowly began to quiet down until he was quiet enough for Draco to hear what Y/N was singing.

~Quand il me prend dans ses bras, qu’il me parle tout bas. Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d’amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ça m'fait quelque chose….~

The baby began to smile as Y/N picked him up and cradled him, still singing.

~Il est entré dans mon cœur, une part de bonheur, dont je connais la cause. C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie, il me l'a dit, l'a juré, pour la vie. Et dès que je l’aperçois, alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat..~

She then began to hum the tune more quietly and sway lightly. Scorpius’s eyes fluttered closed as he drifted to sleep. She smiled and looked up at his father. Draco was standing with his hand over his mouth, tears falling from his icy blue eyes. “Are you alright Mr. Malfoy?” she whispered. He nodded. He cleared his throat quietly before speaking. “La Vie en Rose was the song Astoria and I used for our first dance at our wedding”. “Oh I’m so sorry, if I had known I wouldn’t have…” He shook his head at her. “No it’s alright. I just… miss her”. She tilted her head sympathetically. “From what I’ve heard of her, she sounded lovely. I wish I could have met her.” Draco nodded and looked down at his shoes, trying to hold himself together.

“If you would tell me where his crib is I can put him down so we can start the formal interview. If you’d like” she said, knowing a subject change was what needed to occur. Draco nodded and gestured for her to follow him. Once Scorpius was in his crib, the adults went to the living room to discuss the particulars of the arrangement. Y/N told Draco about how she discovered her love for child care when she worked as a nanny for a short time while traveling in France. “When I came back to England, I worked for a few other Wizarding families including Hermione and Ron for a short time. Ron actually nick named me ‘the baby whisperer’” she said chuckling. “After what just happened, I’m inclined to believe him!” Draco replied. Without needing to consider it, Draco offered Y/N the job.

A year later Draco was still kicking himself daily for not hiring Y/N sooner. His life and mental health had improved drastically since she moved in. He was able to go back to working at the hospital full time and help people like he had always wanted. The two had developed a close friendship and Y/N became part of his family. The house felt almost foreign when she was gone. Though she was a live-in nanny, Draco still encouraged Y/N to take days off, and when she would go, Draco missed her terribly. He could tell Scorpius missed her too.

“You’re falling in love with her!” Hermione teased. She had come over to see Y/N and Draco and knew immediately. “What? No, she works for me. That would be highly inappropriate” he replied defensively. Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco looked across the room at Y/N. She was holding Scorpius near a window and was pointing at something and talking to him. Scorpius was giggling loudly and clapping his little chubby hands. Draco couldn’t help but smile. There was no doubt that he was fond of Y/N, but did he love her? She was great with Scorpius, she understood Draco’s feelings (sometimes better than he did), and she was beautiful. But her beauty wasn’t just external, she had a truly beautiful soul. Another six months went by before Draco was sure. He had fallen for Y/N. He hadn’t meant to fall for her, but she was easy to love. He tried not to act differently towards her but after the realization of his feelings, he couldn’t help it. It started with lingering glances and lead to going out of his way to have little moments of physical contact with her. Whether that was reaching for the same toy to give to Scorpius, or squeezing her hand to get her attention while Scorpius was sleeping. There was not a doubt in his mind about it. He loved her, whole heartedly.

Draco woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Scorpius crying. He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed. He walked down the hallway and into his son’s room, only to find that Y/N was already there. She was standing with her back to the door, rocking Scorpius and singing to him. Draco stood outside of the room, leaning on the door frame as he watched Y/N calm the crying child. He couldn’t help but smile at her. Eventually, she stopped singing and spoke to Scorpius. “You are so loved Scorpius. Your dad loves you, I love you, and your mama loves in all the way from heaven.” Draco continued to smile but in a more melancholy way. Y/N had always made a point of talking to Scorpius about his mother, even though she knew the baby didn’t understand what she said. Draco still found it difficult to talk about Astoria, but Y/N had always insisted that Scorpius know how much his mother loved him, even though she was gone. She rocked him a few more times before placing him back into his crib. When she turned to face the door she smiled at Draco. “I’ll see you again in an hour or so” she joked. She walked past him and exited the room, making her way down to the first floor. Draco watched her walk away before returning to his room. Scorpius didn’t cry again that night but still Draco couldn’t sleep. He decided to go down to the kitchen and fix himself a sandwich, besides, if he was awake he might as well do something to pass the time. As he made his way down the hall to the stairs, he noticed a light was on in the kitchen. He walked down and found Y/N sitting in the kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of pasta and reading a book. She looked up when she heard him enter the room. “Can’t sleep?” she asked. He chuckled and nodded. “Welcome to the club. Look I even saved you a seat!” she joked, gesturing at the chair next to her.

He rummaged through the pantry and complied his sandwich. He then joined her at the table. She put her book down and angled herself in his direction. “You seem different” she said. He looked down at his plate, feeling a pit in his throat. He gulped. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You just seem…I don’t know, happier recently. I can’t put my finger on it”. Did she know about his feelings? Was she trying to bait him into admitting it? He forced himself to look at her. Even at 4 in the morning she was beautiful. He took a deep breath and decided to answer honestly. “I recently decided that I’m ready to open myself up to the idea of love again. Astoria wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life and something just told me its time” he said. Y/N smiled. “That’s really great Draco. I’m so happy for you”. She had a slight glimmer in her eye, she had to know. He eyed her a bit suspiciously. She laughed. “Ok ok don’t give me that look! Hermione might have mentioned to me that you had found someone and I had to ask! Whoever she is she’s a lucky girl” she turned back to her book.

Draco couldn’t believe what he heard. Y/N, the girl who some how knew him better than he knew himself, didn’t know he was in love with her! He smiled and rolled his eyes as he stood up and leaned his back against the counter, putting his hand over Y/N’s book. She looked up at him, some what puzzled. “Y/N, it’s you. I’ve fallen for you. Totally and completely” he said, hopefully sounding more courageous than he was feeling. Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t speak. She mouthed “me?” and pointed to herself. Draco’s smile widened and he nodded. She grinned. He cupped his hands around her cheeks and leaned in closely, so closely it was a wonder their eyelashes didn’t brush against each other. He waited for her to give him permission to close the gap between their bodies. “Kiss me” she whispered. He closed the gap and their lips touched, gently but still passionately. She stood up from her chair and rose to her tip toes as her hands played with his hair. The kissing became laughing as they came up for air. “I didn’t think it was possible to kiss someone and smile at the same time” Y/N said. “With you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop smiling”. There was a comfortable silence as they rested their foreheads against each other, enjoying being close. “I love you Y/N”. She looked up and into his eyes. “I love you too Draco”.

[morganaspendragonss]

if your looking for a bth prompt what about used in sacrificial ritual where tk gets abducted on a run and carlos is the lead detective on this case of people getting murdered as sacrifices and they arrive in time to save tk but the ritual involved cutting limbs off and tk ends up losing a leg? perhaps w lots of fluff at the end? <3<3

anon, i cannot tell you how excited this prompt got me. i’d been toying with a very similar idea for weeks and this was the push i needed to actually write it - with certain modifications to fit your idea. (i promise it has a happy ending!)

i’m super proud of how this came out, and i hope you like it as much as i do!

@911lonestarangstweek day 7:  Free choice!

Two months ago, TK vanished, snatched while out on his evening run. Carlos will do anything to get him back, even if that includes running himself into the ground.

ao3 | 4.9k | cw: kidnapping, depictions of violence, death and injury, forced amputation, career-ending injuries

It’s been two months.

Two whole months since TK left for his evening run with nothing but a shouted goodbye and a promise to be home soon.

Two months since Carlos hadn’t even turned around, because apparently the dishes were more important than his husband.

Two months since they found TK’s shattered phone and wallet, abandoned in the park next to a pool of blood.

Two months since Carlos’s world came crashing down around him.

He blames himself - how could he not? He’s been the lead detective on this case for months; he’s the one who’s so far failed to catch the guys who have mutilated and killed so many people, and now might do the same to his husband. More to the point, he’s the one who is supposed to protect TK, and it’s clear he’s resoundly failed in that department.

His captain had tried to take him off the case, once they’d found out that TK had become the latest victim. But Carlos had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was going to keep looking for his husband, even if he had to go above his head to do it. 

They’d allowed him to keep the case, but Carlos knows he’s being watched. They think he’s having a breakdown and, the thing is, Carlos isn’t entirely sure they’re wrong.

He hasn’t slept in their bed since the night it happened, when he got woken up at two am to the sound of his ringtone blaring through the room.

“Reyes,” Mitchell had said, tone heavy. “I… Shit, Reyes. You gotta get here. There’s another one and I… I really didn’t want to be telling you this over the phone, but…”

She’d paused, and Carlos had sat bolt upright in bed, suddenly all too aware of the empty space next to him. And, in that moment, he’d known; even so, he’d still choked out a quiet, “No.”

“I’m sorry, Carlos. I truly am.”

*

He’s been living in a daze ever since, work and TK the only two things on his mind. He eats when he has to, barely sleeps, and never hangs out with their friends anymore, which he almost feels guilty for. They’re suffering too, Carlos knows this, but he can’t afford any distractions right now. If he were to be out somewhere and ends up missing the one chance he has to get TK back, he’d never forgive himself.

He’s just about to leave for another shift when there’s a loud, insistent knock at the door. Carlos rolls his eyes and goes to yank it open, about to tell whoever it is to leave him alone.

Only to come face-to-face with a very determined looking Grace Ryder.

“Grace,” he sighs, irritation dissipating. “Can this wait? I’ve got a -”

“I know you don’t have an official shift today, Carlos,” she interrupts, folding her arms. “Just like I know you’re working yourself to death, and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. You’re coming out with me, no arguments.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Grace… I can’t.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” She clicks her tongue, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. "You should be thanking me; Judd was planning on bringing the entire crew down here to stage a full intervention. Now, I managed to talk him out of that one, convinced him the last thing you need right now is a house full of people, but I will not hesitate to go back on that. So you've got two options. Either you go back upstairs and get changed and I'll take you out for coffee, just the two of us, or I'm gonna unleash my husband and the full force of the 126 on you. Choice is yours, Reyes."

He sighs, wearily meeting her eyes. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"No, sir, you are not."

Carlos closes his eyes and hangs his head, knowing just how stubborn Grace Ryder can be. “Alright,” he says, though his every nerve is screaming at him for it, “you win. Give me a minute.”

She smiles encouragingly at him. “I’ll be here.”

*

The coffee-shop Grace takes him to is mercifully empty, both of people and memories. He wonders if she did this on purpose, but figures it’s more a stroke of pure luck, his first in months. It’s a nice place; he’ll have to remember it for when - if - they get TK back.

Grace quickly returns with their drinks, placing a sandwich in front of Carlos, too. “Don’t even argue,” she warns. “I won’t hear it.”

Carlos forces a smile. “Thanks, Grace.”

They sit in silence for a while, Carlos keeping his gaze turned to the table, picking listlessly at the sandwich. He can feel Grace’s eyes on him, feel the tension in the air between them, and part of him wishes she’d just come out with it already.

The other part wants to run for the hills, but he’s pretty sure Grace would catch him before he got too far.

Eventually, she sighs, setting her mug down and leaning across the table. “Carlos, we miss you,” she says softly. “I know it’s tough, but you’ve barely spoken to any of us since it happened. We’re worried.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice still unbearably gentle. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy. There’s a difference. And that’s okay, up to a point, but you haven’t given yourself a break in two months and that is not okay. You know TK wouldn’t want you to be doing this.”

“You say that like he’s dead.”

Grace sucks in a sharp breath. “Sweetheart, you know that is not what I meant -”

“Maybe you’re right,” he cuts in, ignoring the pain in his chest as he finally looks up at Grace. “It’s been two months; you know as well as I do what survival rates are for missing persons, even in normal circumstances.” His breathing trembles and he squeezes his eyes shut, images of the bodies they’ve found so far flashing through his mind. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks next. “You also know that the third month is usually when the bodies appear. We’re running out of time, Grace, and I don’t - I don’t know if I believe any more.”

“Carlos Strand-Reyes, I did not just hear you give up on that boy.”

He smiles humourlessly. “Not on him, Grace. On me.”

A long silence follows his words, though Carlos can feel the disappointment and worry rolling off Grace in waves. He should probably feel guilty for ruining a perfectly fine day, but he’s just so tired. He’ll do anything to have TK by his side again, but each day that passes is another day that TK slips further and further away from him, and it’s difficult to hold on to hope.

“I’m terrified,” Carlos admits quietly, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “Any day now they’re going to tell me they’ve found another body, and it’s going to be him, and I won’t be able to handle seeing him like that. You don’t know what they do to them, Grace, it’s - it’s -”

His breath hitches, and suddenly Grace is next to him, gathering him in her arms as he breaks down in sobs against her chest. She shushes him, running a gentle hand through his hair and, for a brief moment, she makes it easy to push away memories of sightless eyes and missing limbs and slit throats.

Grace holds him close, murmuring assurances Carlos doesn’t really hear, until he’s cried himself dry. Then, she pulls back, swiping her thumbs under his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own.

“You’ll get through this, Carlos,” she says, wobbly smile on her face. “No matter the outcome, we’ll all be here to help you get through this.”

Carlos nods, but, privately, he thinks she’s wrong. If TK dies, he’s not sure he’ll be able to find a way through that, no matter how many people are by his side. Because the only one he really, truly needs, won’t be there. 

*

Carlos rubs his eyes, his vision blurring as he stares at crime scene photos, as he has been doing for the past however many hours. He must have gone through these thousands of times over the past eight months, and yet he’s still drawing a complete blank as to clues that could help them find the killers.

They’re always too careful, never leaving any DNA on scene, never caught on camera, never seen by witnesses. There’s not even much of a common denominator between the victims, aside from the fact that they’re all young - the oldest being 38 - and they were all alone when they were taken.

The only consistency in this entire thing is the bodies. Official cause of death is always a deep cut to the throat, accompanied by at least one limb being cut off when the victim was still alive, sometimes more. They never find the missing body parts, which bothers Carlos more than it probably should.

He rubs his eyes again, blinking hard to try and stay awake. He didn’t sleep well last night, which is nothing new, but the past two weeks have been exhausting. After Grace’s coffee outing, the 126 have been stopping by regularly, one or two at a time, to check up on him and make sure he’s doing okay. Carlos appreciates it, he does, but he doesn’t have the energy for it these days. 

He’s so tired that he doesn’t notice Mitchell walking up to his desk before she’s standing right next to him, casting a shadow over his papers. Carlos looks up, and dread washes over him at the grim expression on her face, the tense set to her shoulders.

“We’ve got another one.”

Carlos makes a noise halfway between a choke and a sob. “A body?” he whispers, looking up at her fearfully.

“A disappearance,” Mitchell corrects, and Carlos doesn’t even feel guilty for the relief that floods him at that. “Industrial estate across town, one of the workers got nabbed when he went for a smoke. Same MO, no witnesses - it’s them.”

He nods, praying that Mitchell doesn’t notice the way his hands shake as he gathers up his papers. If she does, she doesn’t say anything, though he catches her exasperated head shake when he turns back to face her.

“Let’s go.”

*

The crime scene is, as always, pristine, and Carlos can’t help but be frustrated, even if this is what he’s come to expect. The case had been wearing on him even before TK was taken, but now it feels like every dead end is a spit in his face, like the universe is taunting him directly.

He’s about to wrap up the scene when a young officer comes barreling towards him.

“Detective!” he yells, panting. “Detective Reyes!”

Carlos stops, raising an eyebrow as the officer skids to a halt in front of him, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he gasps. Straightening, he clears his throat, pointing across the street. “There’s a hidden speed camera over there.”

Carlos blinks. Of all the ground-breaking news he imagined might warrant such dramatics, speed cameras weren’t one of them. 

The officer heaves a long-suffering sigh, which, under any other circumstances, might be amusing. “We’re not sure yet, but, looking at the angle, we think it covers the place the guy got taken from,” he explains, and Carlos’s eyes widen. “If it does, we might be able to get some ID, maybe even a license plate. I know they’ve always been careful not to get caught on camera before, but they might not have known about this one. It’s a chance, Detective.”

Carlos breathes out shakily, mind reeling from the officer’s words. It’s a chance. An honest-to-god chance. “Have we pulled footage yet?”

“Doing that now.” The officer grins boyishly, and Carlos feels a small smile tugging at his own lips. He can’t let himself get too invested in this; there’s every chance that it’ll turn into yet another false lead. And yet.

Something like hope lights up Carlos’s chest, and he dares, just for a second, to believe in it.

*

It works.

It fucking works.

They don’t have an ID - the killers are at least smart enough to cover their faces - but they do have a plate, which they’ve managed to track to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. Carlos taps the steering wheel of his cruiser anxiously; they’re parked in some trees just out of sight of the building, and he itches with the desire to jump out and go.

Every second they wait here is one more second in which TK is still with them, suffering, dying. He chews on his lip, then turns to Mitchell.

“We clear on the plan?”

She raises an eyebrow. “I am. Are you?”

“What -”

“I know what this means for you, Reyes,” she interrupts, not unkindly. “I know what might be waiting for you in there. Now, if it were up to me, you would be benched. It’s too personal, and you’re way too close to it. But, since it’s not, you’ve gotta promise me that your head is screwed on tight, you hear me? We’ve got a good plan, and it’ll work, but it’s only good so long as we are all following it. So, you tell me. Are we clear on the plan?”

Carlos swallows thickly, glancing back in the direction of the warehouse. Mitchell is right - he is too close to it, and he’d be thinking the same thing if the situation were in reverse. He just… He can’t fathom being anywhere but here right now.

He can do this; he knows he can.

He has to, for TK. 

“Yes,” he says firmly, meeting her eyes. “We’ve got this.”

She nods. “Alright, then.” Her gaze shifts past him and she jerks her chin up. “There’s the signal. Let’s move out.”

*

It’s almost too easy, in the end. The suspects are woefully unprepared for an ambush, and Carlos doesn’t even need to fire his gun, which is always a good thing. They find the guy who was taken today in the same room as his kidnappers, a little worse for wear, but not too injured, all things considered.

Carlos wants to be happy about that, but he can’t. Not when TK is still nowhere in sight.

Mitchell takes over managing the scene and questioning the hostage. He’ll have to remember to buy something for her in thanks when this is all over; she’s been a rock over the past three months, often covering for Carlos with their supervisors when things became too much.

He glances around at the swarms of police and paramedics filling the warehouse, feeling oddly detached from it all. He’s itching to go looking for TK, but there’s only so far he can push things - though he’s being no help here, he has to maintain an appearance if he wants to not get fired.

That appearance being, the calm and collected detective, which is the furthest thing from what Carlos is right now.

His hands tap restlessly at his thighs, his senses dialled to eleven with anxiety, which only spikes when he sees an officer making her way towards him, a grim look on her face.

Please, god, no.

Carlos moves to meet her, but he’s not able to form the words for the question he needs to ask. Fortunately, she takes pity on him.

“We’ve found your husband, Detective,” she informs him.

Carlos swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to tamp down the fear. “Is he...?”

“Alive,” she says, and Carlos could cry with relief. “But he’s in bad shape. I’ve been told not to let you back there.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I appreciate the concern, but my husband has been missing for nearly three months,” he says tightly. “It would not be a wise idea to keep me from him any longer.”

She hesitates, biting her lip uncertainly, but eventually relents under Carlos’s hard stare. “Alright. Follow me.”

Carlos is led down several corridors until they stop outside a door, guarded by two other officers. The woman who brought him has a whispered argument with them, but Carlos pushes past her to glare at them, his patience at an end now that he knows that TK is mere feet away from him.

“I told her to bring me here,” he says. “That man in there is my husband; I’m going in there one way or another.”

The two officers exchange a glance, then wearily sigh and nod, stepping to the side. Carlos doesn’t bother to thank them before rushing inside, coming up short at the sight of three paramedics crouched around a body on the ground. He can’t really see much of TK yet, but he feels frozen in place, his mind suddenly rebelling at the thought of having to witness what three months of captivity have done to him.

He shakes his head and wills his feet forward, feeling like he’s walking through treacle as he rounds to TK’s side. Bile rises in his throat and he can’t stop the gasp that escapes him when he finally catches sight of his husband - it’s worse than anything Carlos had imagined, and he’d imagined a lot.

TK’s completely naked; the paramedics have lain a sheet over his lower half, but it does little to hide his emaciated state, his entire body outlined with sharp corners where his skin seems almost shrink-wrapped to his bones. Carlos can count every one of TK’s ribs, and the hollow of his cheeks is deeply pronounced. His torso is discoloured from bruising and he’s horribly still and pale - Carlos would think he were dead if not for the barely there rise and fall of his chest.

That’s not the worst of it, though. Carlos’s eyes travel down TK’s body, cataloguing his injuries, before sticking on his left leg.

Or, rather, the space where his left leg used to be.

Carlos barely refrains from throwing up, his stomach turning at the bloody mess in front of him. This isn’t… In the back of his mind - in his nightmares - he’d known that this was a possibility, but he’d never prepared himself for actually seeing it. He doesn’t know if he could have prepared himself, even if he’d tried.

“Detective.”

He’s broken from his horrified staring by one of the paramedics, now standing in front of him. Strange - Carlos hadn’t noticed him moving.

He sighs, obviously disapproving of Carlos’s presence here, but his expression holds nothing but sympathy. “Your husband is lucky we got here when we did,” he says. “But I can’t make any promises, and he is nowhere near out of the woods yet. To be perfectly honest with you, Detective, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing right now. He’s severely dehydrated and suffering from starvation - it looks like his kidnappers were giving him just barely enough food and water for him to survive. I’m also worried about infection in his leg, plus there might be injuries we can’t see yet. We’ve done everything we can for him here, but we have to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. I’m assuming you’re going to ride with us?”

Carlos immediately nods. There’s no way he’s going to remain here, even if he knows he won’t be able to stay with TK when they get to the hospital. He trusts Mitchell to handle things, and he wouldn’t be of much use anyway, even more so than before. Not after everything he’s seen, everything he’s heard.

The paramedics get TK loaded on a gurney and Carlos follows them out, eyes locked on TK’s still form. He brushes a hand through TK’s limp hair, forcing back the tears burning in his eyes.

“Hold on, my love,” he whispers. “I’m here; you’re safe now.”

He hopes, somehow, that TK hears him.

*

“Oh my god.”

Carlos looks up from the bed at the sound of Owen’s voice. His father-in-law has a hand over his mouth, shock written all over his face at the sight of TK - what little that can be seen underneath all the bandages and machines he has hooked up to him. Carlos had done his best to prepare Owen for what he’d face when he arrived, but it had been an impossible task. He’d barely been able to get the words out, for one, but there was no explaining just how bad things are.

Nothing will ever be the same. Not that Carlos had ever expected that it would, but when (if, he reminds himself) TK wakes up, it will be to a completely different life than the one he had walked out of all those months ago. 

The physical injuries alone would be bad enough - and, god, he’ll have to do so much at home to make it safe for TK - but he’s more worried about how this will have affected him in other ways. Carlos can’t imagine the level of trauma his husband has suffered, and he just prays that they can find a way to get through it.

Owen’s face crumples as he makes his way across the room, collapsing heavily in the chair on the other side of the bed. He reaches out as though to touch TK, but snatches his hands back just as quickly, expression stricken. “Oh my god,” he repeats.

Carlos lets him be for a few moments, allowing Owen to process what he’s seeing at his own pace. He turns away so that he can have some semblance of privacy, though he can’t ignore the soft sobs he hears. It’s almost as though they’re mourning TK, even though they now have proof he’s alive, which is more than can be said for the last three months.

Eventually, Owen sniffs, and turns to address Carlos. “Have they… What did the doctors say?”

“Nothing concrete,” Carlos answers, focusing his gaze back on TK. “If he makes it through the next few days, then they think he’ll have a chance, but that’s a big if, Owen. There was so much damage. His organs weren’t functioning properly, he has a head wound from when he was first taken that never really healed right, and his leg… It had become infected where his kidnappers cut it; they had to take some more in surgery to stop it from spreading any further.”

He tears his eyes from TK to meet Owen’s gaze, almost wishing he hadn’t when he sees his own pain and grief reflected back at him. “It’s bad, Owen,” he chokes out. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do if…”

He shakes his head, the words sticking in his throat. Not that he really needs to say them; they’re both thinking the same thing.

“The doctors probably told you, but they’re restricting visitors to two until he’s more stable,” Carlos continues, eyes dropping back to the bed. “I know the team will want to see him, but do you think you can hold them off for a while? Just for a couple of days, until we know more. I don’t want to keep them from him, but I just…” He trails off, guilt welling up in him even though he knows this is what’s best. “I know it’s a selfish thing to ask, but I think it’s for the best, for everyone.”

“I understand,” Owen says gently. “I’ll let them know. And… I’ll do my best to prepare them, for when they do come and visit.”

Carlos nods his thanks and the two lapse into silence, broken only by the hiss of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor. Proof that TK’s still with them, but each noise sends another bolt of pain through Carlos’s heart.

He squeezes his eyes shut, finally allowing the tears to fall down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Owen,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

Owen gasps. “What for?”

“I was supposed to protect him! This was my case, I’m the reason he got taken, the reason he might not make it. He could still die, and it’s all my fault!”

Carlos drops his head into his hands, chest heaving from the force of his sobbing. Distantly, he hears the scrape of a chair on linoleum, then Owen’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him into an embrace. Carlos falls into him, not caring about the almost childlike way he clings to his father-in-law.

“You found him, Carlos,” Owen whispers, rubbing circles on Carlos’s back. “You found him. Any chance he has at making it through is because of you. That’s what matters now; it’s the only thing that matters.”

*

It’s several more weeks before Carlos’s prayers are finally answered.

TK was declared stable some time ago, the doctors saying that, barring any unexpected complications, they should expect him to wake up. They hadn’t said anything about what the damage might be once he did wake, but Carlos hadn’t wanted to ask; at this point, he can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, else he knows he’ll fall apart.

He’s practically lived at the hospital since they brought TK in. He’s pretty sure Owen, his parents, and the 126 came up with a rota for making sure he wasn’t starving himself, because it was always someone different who attempted to pull him away from TK’s room for food or sleep in an actual bed. Carlos resisted as much as he thought he could get away with, but he’s not stupid. He knows he needs to keep his strength up if he’s going to be of any use once TK wakes up.

It happens early one morning, when the sun is just beginning to filter through the blinds. Carlos is already awake, keeping a vigilant watch over his husband, though he doesn’t quite believe it when TK’s eyelid twitches.

He holds his breath, waiting, and, just when he’s given it up as a trick of exhaustion, it happens again, both of his eyes cracking open this time.

“TK?” he breathes, half-rising from his chair. He reaches out and grabs TK’s hand, which moves - actually moves - in his, and tears spring to his eyes.

It takes a few more minutes before something like awareness creeps into TK’s face, his eyes fully opening for the first time in weeks. Carlos just sobs at the sight, drawing TK’s attention to him, at which point his expression turns to shock and disbelief.

TK’s mouth moves, but he can’t force out any words, causing panic to flash over his face and his breathing picks up. Carlos leans forward, squeezing his hand and stroking his cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly, reassuring him. “You’re okay, I promise, everything’s going to be okay. You’re in the hospital. I’m here, and you’re safe. God, TK, I swear I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again, I swear it.”

TK shakes his head, still not understanding, so Carlos reaches to press the call button. He forces a smile for TK’s sake, though his mind is crowded with worries about what their next steps will be. It’s going to be a long time before they can even think about going home, he knows this, but everything is so uncertain now.

Carlos wants to believe that there can be some sort of normality in their future, but, right now, it seems like a distant dream.

*

Time passes.

He brings TK home.

It’s hard, so much harder than he thought, but they have a whole team of people willing to help out as much as they can. Paul and Grace often bring food, usually stopping to talk for a while afterwards. The others - most often Marjan and Judd - sometimes come by and take TK out in his wheelchair for a while, giving Carlos time and space to relax or tidy. Letting TK out of his sight was difficult at first, and he still gets anxious watching him disappear out the door, but he knows that the 126 would do anything to keep him safe.

He just has to trust them, which he does, implicitly so. 

Owen’s also a frequent visitor to their house, staying overnight a time or two in the beginning. Carlos is grateful for it; he doesn’t know how he would have coped if not for Owen’s steady presence while they were still figuring out their new reality.

TK struggles a lot, even with simple things these days. The head wound caused brain damage, leading to migraines and he has problems with speech and carrying out tasks. It breaks Carlos’s heart to see him, but he forces himself to keep up a front, only letting the emotion out when he’s alone - or, rarely, with one of the 126.

He suspects TK knows anyway, but they don’t talk about it.

It’s a long few months of recovery, of pain and exhaustion and frustration. But it’s all worth it, because it means that TK is alive. It means that Carlos has him back, and they can work on getting better together.

It means that, one golden morning, Carlos wakes up to see TK’s beautiful green eyes already open, watching him intently. He reaches out to caress TK’s cheek, then leans in and presses a gentle kiss to his lips, lingering for a long moment.

And, when he pulls back, TK smiles.

And it feels like everything is going to be okay.

[black-dragon1998]

Ghost Capatain Chapter 1

Summary: After years of abuse from Hydra reader and the twins escape to New York City and try to survive in the only way they know. Becoming the new top dogs in the American criminal underworld is just a bonus that helps them help people in need. The Avengers, however, aren't that pleased when they by a rough bach of Vibranium and bust into their Club and arrest the reader.This set a whole rollercoaster of events in motion, that not only racked up old memories for the reader but also Bucky and Natasha.

I suck at summaries sorry.

This is a non-canon and just a figment of my imagination that I couldn't get out of my head. at the moment I have a pretty good idea where this fic is going but that could always change. Don’t like don’t read.

Warning: non at the moment but will most likly be added in further chapters.

Ghost Captain Masterlist

You were leaning against the bannister of the private second floor overlooking the club. Your men around you were preparing everything for the deal going down tonight. All were nervous for it, for you, it was just another day at the office.

Your interest at the moment lay with the green-eyed brunette wearing red at the bar. The two of you were having a silent stare down that nobody was paying attention to. You had found her easily enough, even in this sea of people you were drawn to her and it had nothing to do with her psychic powers.

It had taken her a long time accepting her powers, but when she finally did she was a real powerhouse. People always thought you were the scary one, well than they hadn’t ever seen Wanda angry. Even Pietro didn’t trifle with her when she was and he pissed off everybody all the time.

When she was having a bad day because of the burden of her powers put on her or just because of you and Pietro were there for her. The three of you were family and you would die for each other. More importantly, she was your moon, the reason you were still sane after everything Hydra put you through. When the three of you were finally able to escape Hydra you had fled to America and done what you did best. Survived.

After a couple of years in America, the three of you had made a name for yourselves. Now nobody trifled with you anymore. The business you had set up both legally and illegally were run by the three of you in the shadows. Parts of the money you earned was invested back into companies and projects you had running in Sakovia. Never having lost the connection with your home country.

Taking a sip of your drink your eyes drifted back to Wanda. The glass nearly broke form the tension you suddenly put on it. Their next to Wanda was a  sniffling little bitch that had the audacity to put his hands on her. He would quickly learn nobody touched your girl and got away with it.

Wanda was sitting at the bar enjoying her drink. She for one liked being on the ground floor, unlike you who mostly stayed on the second floor overlooking the club. Being surrounded by so many people in a controlled environment gave her a certain feeling of normality.

At the moment though she was regretting not being on the second floor with you. The guy to her right was getting closer and closer. The way he was looking at her made her want to throw up. She tried ignoring him and found you looking at her from the bannister.

You looked so dame hot with your burgundy three-piece suit. Just enough buttons of your shirt were undone to be sinful and it sends her mind spiralling. Wanda could also see the numerous women around her trying to get your attention but you had only eyes for her.

Everybody thought you were this big bad mobster with no heart. Well, you were a big bad mobster but Wanda knew you would die for the people you called family. Only they got to see that side of you. Wanda even called you her teddy bear behind closed doors.

“well aren’t you particularly beautiful, sweetheart?” Wanda’s attention was called back to the guy to her right. Now he was leaning against the bar far closer than Wanda would have liked. She decided to not give him any attention, that usually ended with the guy on the floor bleeding.

“you know I have never seen you here before. Us meeting must have been fate.” Wanda could smell the alcohol on his breath. Instead of acknowledging him she turned away and took a sip from her drink. If he kept bothering her for much longer she would call the bouncers to throw him out, before you could deal with him.

Then he made the fatal mistake of putting his hands on her.

“Not to brag or anything but I may know the owner of this joint. If I put in a good word we could go somewhere private.” This made Wanda laugh before she pulled her arm away. She felled your anger burning as she felled you nearing. This time she did face him.

“I don’t believe you know anybody in this club, let alone the owner. You don’t seem to be made from the same material as they are.” Her statement seemed to anger him. He roughly took her by the shoulder this time. His hand, however, was quickly removed by a furious you.

You had a fire in your eyes when you looked at the asshole who dared to put his hands on Wanda. He seemed to link back at your anger trying to pull his hands back.

“you think it’s okay to grab a lady just like that?” it wasn’t a question but he still seemed to want to stammer out a response. He was quickly shut up by you.

“I don’t want to hear your sorry ass excuse. I heard the last part of the conversation you had. I have to say to make such a bold statement you either have to be incredibly tough or incredibly stupid. So tell me what is it. Because believe me I have never seen you before.” His eye became comically wide.

“More importantly I would like to know  where you would have gone to be ‘private’ in my club with my girl.” The full realisation hit him and all colour drained from his face. He started blabbering incoherent words together with apologies when one of your waiters showed up. A young woman in her mid-twenties. A good worker never had any problems with her.

“I am so sorry Captain. He is my brother and I let him in. I told him to behave, didn’t know he would go after Wanda.” The girl sounded distressed. You looked her over with a critical eye and she shrunk back into herself.

“Please don’t fire me. I really need this job. I promise I won’t happen again.” The girl stood with her hand hanging down, not meeting your eye. You felled Wanda nudge your mind.

“you can’t fire her. It’s the only job she has and has to provide for her idiot brother and sick mother.” Leave it to Wanda to play on your emotional side. Turning to the sibling Infront of you, sighting internally.

“I don’t want to see his face here again if I do you won’t like the outcome.” Your voice is cold, leaving no room for arguing. Not that they would try anyway. Soon after the bouncers arrived and took him away.

The girls turn to you with watery eyes.

“thank you. I wouldn’t know what I would have done if I lost my job.” You clapped the girl's shoulder to ground her.

“We can’t be held accountable for what our family does.” Your voice is hard but caring, something Wanda is going to tease you about later. Finally, she met your eyes and gave you a small smile. That is when your eyes caught something, a small bruise around her eye.

You felled the girl stiffen again, trying to get out your grasp.

“I fell this morning.” her lie wasn’t convincing at all but you didn’t correct her. Instead, you took a card out of your back pocket and put it in her hand.

“When you are ready go to this address. Tell them I send you and everything will be sorted out for you.” She put the card in her pocket and went back to work. You only hoped she wouldn’t wait until it was too late.

The attention that was on you quickly faded when the song changed and people went back to drinking and dancing. Turning around you were met with Wanda smiling at you.

“you are getting soft in your old age my captain.” She smirked at you. Quickly snacking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Who are you calling old baby. If I recall correctly I’m only two years older than you my little witch.” You whisper in her ear, not denying her statement. Wanda knew you were soft for her. You did nip her ear as small reprimanding. She only giggled and hugged you close.

“I love you, my Captain.” She told you kissing you deeply.

“love you too my little witch.” after a long passionate moment your break apart and remind her that you have a meeting in half an hour and that you should prepare for that.

Normally you and Pietro make the deals with when they are done in the clubs, Wanda being in the back pretending to be eye candy. In reality, she was scanning everybody for trouble but Pietro was with Zrinka at the moment. So you would do the deal on your own, with Wanda as a back-up.

For today's deal, you were glad she would be staying on the background. Ulysses Klaue was a pig and you despised having to work with him and after the shit that went down with Ultron, he wasn’t happy to work with you either. But he wanted to do business in the city so he had to go through you to do it.

“would you look at this, the street rat made it big.” Klaue laughed when he was let into the room and saw you sitting at the desk. Your facial expression didn’t waver. You had long ago learned to never let verbal assault get to you.

“I would say it’s nice to see you again Klaue but we both know that would be a lie. So why don’t you tell me what you came here with and we can both go on with our life’s.” his smirk quickly disappeared and was replaced with a scowl.

“watch who you are talking too. I have an appointment with the leader of this joint.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

“I know. You are talking to them.” You see him want to make a smart-ass comment but cut him off.

“I would watch the tone you take on with me. Everything that is said here will determine if the big boss wants to do further business with you. So I would watch your words.” He grumbles under his breath but sat down.

It quickly became clear he wanted to get rid of his last batch of Vibranium. Apparently, the Avengers were closing in on him and he hopped getting rid of it would get them off his case. You thought that was highly unlikely but weren’t about to tell him that. T’challa had asked you and the twins to look out for rogue Vibranium and get it back to Wakanda.

“so if I’m understanding this correctly you want to sell me your last batch of Vibranium.” You slumped a little in your seat and intertwined your fingers.

“why would you do that?” you knew why but wanted to be sure and hear it from him.

“I think you know why. The Avengers are hunting me for months and there are only so many places one can run to before being sick of it.” He spat out, already angry enough he had to deal with you. He was also apprehensive cause last he checked the Avengers were just breathing down his neck.

Feeling you had desperate enough for negotiation you put your poker face back on.

“Alright, we might be interested in buying it from you. You saw hope flicker behind his eyes, even though he further showed no emotions.

“at the right price of course.” You smirked.

“1 million dollars.” He started. You razed an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“750 000” you countered.

“900 000”

“I thought you wanted to get rid of it to get the Avengers of your ass.” You questioned.

“850 000” he tried again.

“800 000, with the promise wrap this up tonight. That is my final offer.” You reached your hand out to close the deal. He seemed to contemplate for a moment but finally shook your hand. After that things were finalized quickly. Seemed he wanted to get rid of it. Within the hour the crate with Vibranium stood in your office and you were eight hundred thousand dollars lighter but it was worth it.

Klaue didn’t waste any time to leave with his eight hundred thousand dollars and put as much distance between him and the treat as he could.

When you were sure he had left you called Wanda to join you in the office. Completely slumping into your chair suit jacket open, happy that that deal was over. Wanda sauntered into the office with a massive grin on her face.

“look at you my big scary mob boss handling things so smoothly.” She pulls you out of your chair and into a big messy kiss. When you eventually part for air you stroke the side of her face.

“come on gorgeous let’s go home so I can show you what a real badass I am.” She giggled. If other people would see you like this they wouldn’t believe her but luckily you were already hers.

“yes, lets so I can spoil you for a job well done.” She giggled when a little blush appeared on your face.

Leading her toward the back garage, not feeling like waiting for your driver. Beside you liked to drive once in a while. Picking the keys to the Lykan sportscar. Having let the Vibranium being placed in before. You lead Wanda to the passenger door when alarms began going off.

You quickly turn around and look at the monitors placed in the garage. What you see makes you curse, the Avengers were busting down the door of your club. Subtlety apparently wasn’t something they did.

“I thought some of them were ex-assassins.” Wanda had to chuckle at your comment. Turning toward her you give her the keys. She looked at you confused.

“go now. I will cover you with my powers.” Disbelieve filled her eyes.

“(Y/N)! no, I am not leaving you behind.” At moments you find her stubbornness adorable, not right now.

“Wanda we don’t have time for this. They are after the leader of this club. That is me, so that means you can get away.” The ‘you can get me out later’ going unsaid.

“promise me you will be careful?” you gave her a reassuring kiss while opening the driver’s door.

“I promise. Now go may we meet in Sint-Pietersburg.” You saw her understanding before she got into the car, setting up a mental link with you. As she drives out the garage you reflect the lights around the car so it seemed to be invisible. When you know she is out of reach you start thinking about your own escape.

The moment you think about slipping into the shadows you are hit in the back with an electric shock that made your knees buckle and fall to the ground. Twisting with aftershock you see pair of black combat boots come closer. Looking up you see a woman with red hair wearing a SHIELD tactical suit.

“shit!” you mutter before she hits you with another round of electrical shock before you pass out.

Chapter 2

Want to support me Buy me a Ko-fi

[p---ink]

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything.  But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK! 

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc. 

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second. 

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues. 

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple. 

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground. 

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own. 

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars. 

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else. 

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections. 

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones.  Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon. 

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for? 

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?” 

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper. 

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention. 

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say. 

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well. 

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him? 

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing. 

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar. 

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—” 

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.” 

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father’s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through. 

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you. 

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course. 

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it,  their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business. 

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?” 

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.  

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you. 

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. 

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.  

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.  

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen. 

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head. 

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed. 

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs. 

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast. 

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions. 

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your  cooking. 

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger. 

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms. 

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles. 

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves. 

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly. 

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.” 

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off. 

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder  to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground. 

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy. 

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots. 

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks. 

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy. 

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it.  You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.  

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning. 

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay. 

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on. 

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you. 

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before,  used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more. 

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered. 

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke. 

“Please let me cum Tony.” 

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter. 

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do. 

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point. 

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago. 

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself. 

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to. 

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout. 

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure. 

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles. 

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead,  as Tony continued his case. 

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back. 

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.” 

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it.  “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet.  Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue. 

“Everything is going to be fine.”  You assured, gazing up at him. 

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car. 

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled. 

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were  right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal. 

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them.  As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much. 

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted. 

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours  before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.” 

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you. 

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could. 

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking. 

“Y/N,  I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up. 

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom. 

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones. 

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought. 

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured. 

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it. 

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.  

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it. 

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.” 

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you. 

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror. 

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway. 

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date. 

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking. 

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time. 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone,  “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave. 

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head. 

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips. 

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle. 

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy. 

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city. 

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out. 

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours. 

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.  

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while. 

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him. 

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him. 

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained. 

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time. 

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter. 

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now. 

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.” 

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.”  You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself. 

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got  out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.” 

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash. 

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table. 

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold. 

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time. 

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this? 

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now. 

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss. 

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude. 

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet. 

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?” 

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”  

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it.  You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes. 

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?” 

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease. 

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home. 

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you. 

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly. 

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.” 

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes. 

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony. 

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled. 

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.” 

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual. 

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart. 

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies.  Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you. 

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin. 

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been. 

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat. 

  A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To  @swaggysposts​ @scarletsoldierrr​ I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think!  PART 3 here 

[howtosingit]

Fic: under haunted skies i see you

In the eye of a solar storm, Carlos and TK share a quiet moment. 

*

A missing moment from 1x10.

1.7K | Also on AO3 | Full Series

- - - - - 

When it comes to TK Strand, Carlos is starting to wonder if maybe he doesn’t really mind being the one doing the chasing.

Certainly, after the firefighter walked out on his carefully prepared dinner, Carlos’s ego had been bruised. But, then, he found a literally bruised TK sitting at his desk, green eyes wide and apologetic. It didn’t make him want to chase after him, but it certainly made him want to know more. To help him through whatever he was facing.

So, they’d gone on a date, with mixed results, but they’d formed a firm friendship in the aftermath. It’s a relationship that has come to mean so much to Carlos; he might not know a lot about TK’s past, of who he was before he came to Texas, but he knows enough to paint a picture of the man that he’s spent so much time with the past few months. It’s a beautiful image, one that he would like to keep studying and learning. 

Following the unexpected kiss, TK certainly hadn’t chased after Carlos, but he hadn’t walked away either. Instead, he’d given Carlos the space that he needed, making it clear that he was around whenever Carlos was ready for him. 

Then, of course, following the shooting, Carlos had done the same for TK, giving him the space that he needed to process his trauma, to find his way out. Sure, Carlos would’ve loved to be at his side, holding his hand, helping him remain upright; but that’s not what TK had wanted from him, so he’d stayed away. And eventually, TK came to him.

When they show up to the juice bar, Carlos doesn’t feel like he’s there because he chased TK down. No, instead it feels like they’ve each put in the work, taken their space, reflected on their relationship, and reached a mutual decision to come to this point. 

It feels balanced, in a way.

Or, at least, it does until TK avoids anything serious. Carlos, too anxious to figure out where they stand together, pushes a bit, chasing an answer he desperately needs.

It doesn’t end up being the answer that he wants. 

It shatters him, but he feels like his conversation with Owen a few days ago prepared him for the possibility. Being equals in their friendship means they each have a voice and a choice. 

And, at least this time, they make different ones.

Which is honesty why he has no idea why exactly he’s walking through the all too familiar doors of St. David’s North Medical Center - the very same doors that led him towards a room with an unconscious TK and an uncertain outcome just a little over two weeks ago. 

He’s not in his uniform this time, but he still gets some looks from the trauma ward nurses. Carlos throws them an innocent smile, trying to look like he knows exactly where he’s going, even as he scans every bed that he passes, looking for a familiar head of short brown hair.

He finds him in a room at the far end of the ward, TK sitting up in bed as a nurse sutures his skin back together. Carlos stops in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat at how small the man looks, pale-faced and hunched over. 

On his drive over to the hospital, Carlos had told himself that all he needed was to make sure TK was still alive, and then they could go their separate ways. The other man had made it clear at the juice bar that he needed more space, possibly even a state or two away, and Carlos wanted to respect that decision. 

Now that he’s seen him, Carlos can leave. The chase is over, the book is finished.

Except, before he can move, the nurse looks away from TK’s shoulder and notices him. “Can I help you, sir?” she asks, her voice kind but professional. 

TK looks up at her words, their eyes locking. He sees surprise in the man’s green eyes, but all Carlos can do is silently stare back. He didn’t really have a plan for what he was going to say when he saw TK, very much feeling like their relationship had already come to the close. 

This was merely the epilogue, and the right words escape him now.

The nurse glances between them, taking in the tense set of TK’s body. “Sir,” she says, her voice stern now, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“No!” TK all but shouts, his eyes widening as he looks between the two of them. “Please, ma’am, he’s with me. He’s supposed to be here.”

He turns back to Carlos as he says the final line, his jaw locked and his expression certain. Carlos feels his breath catch in his throat; there’s no way that TK had been expecting him to come looking for him, and yet, he doesn’t mind that he’s here. 

Surprising him even further, TK holds out his right hand to Carlos, his gaze softening as he wiggles his fingers.

Carlos doesn’t even hesitate before gliding across the room and taking his hand, linking their fingers together tightly. He raises them up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against TK’s knuckles as a smile threatens to rearrange his entire face. Next to him, he hears TK let out a breath, leaning over to rest his head against Carlos’s chest.

“Okay, sir,” the nurse says, and Carlos sees that a small smile has taken over her own face, even though she’s trying to mask it. “I have a few more sutures to finish and he’s not on any pain meds, so try to keep him distracted.”

“Carlos has never had a problem distracting me,” TK mumbles into his shirt, his voice soft. Carlos feels a blush rise up the back of his neck at his claim, an embarrassed laugh escaping him.

There’s silence as the nurse continues her work, but Carlos finds that it speaks volumes. He brings his free hand up to TK’s scalp, running his fingers through his hair the way he knows he likes. TK relaxes into him, as much as he can while keeping his shoulder held still for the nurse to finish stitching him up. 

When she’s all done, she reminds TK that he needs to take it easy for a few weeks, then leaves to begin working on his discharge papers, closing the door behind her. 

As soon as they’re alone, TK lets out a groan, pulling away from Carlos to lie back against the pillow. Carlos steps closer, shifting to continue to run his hand through TK’s hair. He watches as the other man’s eyebrows relax, the creases in his forehead disappearing as he breathes deeply. 

“Might be good of you to get out of Texas for a while,” Carlos says after a few minutes, his voice cracking at the reminder that TK is going to be leaving him soon. “I think this state makes you a bit of a danger magnet.”

TK opens his eyes slowly, looking up at Carlos with an unreadable expression on his face. The joke dies between them, neither of them finding it possible to force a laugh. He doesn’t really know what to do now, so he stands quietly next to the bed, waiting. 

TK pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, staring down at their joined hands currently resting against his stomach. His thumb rubs gently against Carlos’s skin, a billion bolts of energy coursing through him at the minor touch. 

“Carlos, there’s something I really, really need you to know about me,” TK says, taking a deep breath. Carlos feels his heart jump in his chest, a lethal mix of joy and fear flying through him. TK looks up at him, open and honest. “Sometimes, I am a massive idiot.”

It’s not at all the revelation that Carlos was expecting. Before he can reign it in, a laugh rolls out of him, the tension from before flying through the room. TK laughs with him, his face breaking into a giant grin as they push through this wall that has kept them apart for weeks, if not months. 

TK shifts to the far side of the bed, tugging at Carlos’s hand until he understands the other man’s meaning. As delicately as possible, Carlos slides up onto the bed, pressing himself against TK’s side. When he feels TK’s chin resting on his left shoulder, he turns towards him, his breath catching at their proximity and youthful, happy look that the firefighter gives him.

“I belong here, Carlos,” TK says, his voice light and relieved, practically dancing over the words. ��With my dad, with the 126, and…”

“And?” Carlos hedges when TK trails off.

“And with you,” TK finishes, his tone hesitant.

Carlos can’t stand to hear the doubt in his voice, so he leans forward a few inches to close the distance between them. It’s less of a kiss and more just lips pressing against lips, but he thinks it tells TK everything that he needs to know.

“And with me,” Carlos confirms, squeezing TK’s fingers tightly to reassure him.

TK lets out another breath, pushing forward for a real kiss, his lips moving against Carlos’s own as if it’s what they were made to do.

Carlos can’t help but to think that maybe they were.

In a few moments, TK will be discharged, and Carlos will drive him to the fire station. He’ll stay with him while he showers and changes, finally getting out of his soaked and bloody clothes. Then, he’ll send Carlos home, telling him to come back when the 126’s shift ends.

And Carlos will. They’ll have dinner together, sharing all of their secrets. Carlos will tell TK all about Iris, and TK will tell Carlos all about Alex. They’ll lay their pasts out for both of them to see before finally letting them go, the haunted skies hovering over Austin and their hearts clearing just in time for a kaleidoscope of colors to paint them anew. 

On top of the hood of his Camaro, they’ll laugh and kiss and talk and make decisions. They’ll make plans and they’ll share dreams. They’ll think back to that night where they first met, under much different circumstances, when they were very different people. They’ll talk about how far they’ve both come since then, and how much further they have still have to go. 

But, above all else, they’ll talk about how they can’t wait to do it all together. 

As a team.

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today XIII

A/N:  This is the first of... FOUR chapters I am writing this week. I'm still posting one on Wednesdays, and one on Saturdays, but I needed to get a little bit ahead because I'll be out of town next week and didn't want to not have updates! So, look for the next chapter Saturday, and I hope you all enjoy this one! Skål!

Summary:  When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

--

Aethelind found herself training harder in the following weeks. She spent most of her days out in the training fields, fitted in trousers, fighting anyone who was willing to take her on. There was a surprising number of people who would, and with each fight she felt like she was improving. She learned something new, at least, with every person she fought. Some of the men, she would defeat, some of the women too, and then some she wouldn’t.

However, there was hardly any warrior or shieldmaiden who didn’t want a chance to fight the Warrior Princess of Wessex. So, she wasn’t exactly at risk of having no one to train with. If Hvitserk came down, he would take precedence to them all, however. The Son of Ragnar was Aethelind’s favorite to train against, just because of his sheer talent for fighting, and the fact that, while he wasn’t the best at teaching her to speak in his tongue- well, he wasn’t quite as good as Freydis, even if better than Ivar- he was an excellent teacher when it came to the battlefield.

Under him, she was thriving. She was winning more training fights every day than she had the last, and it was about decided that she would be able to hold her own in any fight. Hvitserk wanted to start having her fight more people at once, preparing her for a battle. There was an unspoken arrangement, that that’s what he was training her for. After all, Hvitserk- like Ivar- knew the truth about just who was in Wessex, now. But he’d had… a bit of a different thought about it.

He knew it was likely only a matter of time before his brothers and Lagertha returned for Kattegat. And… he couldn’t say yet which side he would fight for. He loved Ubbe, he loved Björn, but he also loved Ivar. The only thing was…

Ivar was crazy. He thought he was a god. Yes, they’d grown up hearing how their father, Ragnar Lothbrok, was descended from Odin, but that didn’t mean they, themselves, were gods! How Ivar had gotten that in his head, Hvitserk wasn’t sure, but he had an idea. All he did know, was he was having doubts about his support of the King of Kattegat. And if he chose to turn on him, he wanted to be sure he’d prepared Aethelind the best he could for whatever came of that.

For one thing, when he wasn’t with Thora, he was with Aethelind. His betrayal might automatically turn suspicion onto her. If she got caught in the fallout, he wanted her ready to defend herself. He couldn’t betray anyone unless he knew he’d mitigated as much of the damage as he possibly could. Once Aethelind could hold her own in battle, he’d know he’d done it.

The ringing of swords clashing together rang out through the air, as Aethelind and Hvitserk battled once more. They often came so close to one outcome, only for the other to suddenly pull it off, and it seemed that was about to happen again. Hvitserk had had her on the ropes, just a few minutes ago, but she’d ducked and slid right between his legs, popping back up on the other side and using her foot to kick him away, and he’d stumbled and fallen to the ground.

Now, he was trying to keep defending himself until he could get back up, but her sword was coming hard, fast, and relentless, making him have to focus so much on not missing, and being struck, to focus on getting up onto his feet. She feigned a thrust to the right, and when he went to block, she brought her sword back to the left, and caught his blade. This action sent it flying out of his hand, and when he reached for it, she pinned his arm down by stepping- lightly, so as not to actually hurt him- on his wrist.

There was a flash of something, something that caught Aethelind off guard entirely, and she stepped back. Just as soon as it had come, the sight of Hvitserk suddenly pale, looking up at her with bloodshot eyes, stringy hair barely pulled out of his face, clearly incredibly unwell, was gone. But it had still startled her well enough, and made her shake her head and drop to her knees beside him.

Her brows creased with a deep concern, and her hands reached out to take his face between her hands, her sword long abandoned behind her now. Hvitserk looked confused at the confusion written across Aethelind’s face, but he couldn’t deny the concern was rather endearing. If not… still concerning.

She couldn’t think of how to explain just what she had just seen, had just witnessed, but Hvitserk looked perfectly healthy, perfectly happy now. His skin was the same color it always was, his hair was clean, his eyes clear. So what had she seen? Why had he suddenly looked so sick and so miserable?

Eventually, Hvitserk decided he was concerned enough to try and find out just what exactly was bothering her so badly, and so he asked, “Is something the matter, Princess?”

She blinked a few times, and her eyes finally met his. A slight reddish tint crossed her cheeks and she chuckled shyly, releasing him. “You fell pretty hard, it seemed,” she lied easily. “I just… needed to be sure you were alright.”

Hvitserk’s smile turned more gentle then, and he sat up, taking her hand in his. “I am well, Aethelind,” he said softly. “Perhaps we should be done for the day. We can go and take some rest, after a meal. How does that sound, hm?”

Aethelind nodded, and then gave her head a light shake. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t- I don’t know what came over me.”

Hvitserk put an arm around her and pulled her close, pressing a soft kiss to her head as he felt her head resting against his shoulder. “I do,” he answered her. “And I understand. Come, let’s have some food and drink.”

She nodded and sat up again, smiling at him slightly, before watching him get to his feet and offer her a hand up. Accepting it, she too stood, and they started off.

The pair walked up to the Great Hall, his arm still slung around her shoulders. Hvitserk opened the door when they arrived to let Aethelind pass through. He followed her inside, got them both hot meals and warm drinks, before suggesting they return to her chambers to eat.

Normally, she’d have insisted she was fine to sit in the hall and eat, but today… Whatever had happened with Hvitserk had her still quite shaken, and though Hvitserk read this as a reaction to something entirely different, it was still enough for him to recognize that today was rather not the day to eat in the hall.

So, they took their food and drinks to her chambers, and sat at her desk. He’d pulled a chair up beside hers, and they settled in there. Most of the eating was done in silence, Hvitserk’s eyes studying the rather disturbed look on her face. He waited until she was finished eating to finally ask.

“How are you feeling?”

Without any explanation, Aethelind understood the exact meaning of his words. She took a deep breath, and her eyes fell to her hands, which moved to rest in her lap. “I miss him,” she confessed, her voice quiet. “We got close, in the years Alfred was gone to the Holy City. I never imagined he would just… go like that.” Her eyes watered a little as she recalled the news she’d received just a few weeks ago, and Hvitserk nodded slowly. “Alfred was always the one prone to falling ill, not Aethelred. I don’t think anyone could have seen it coming. And the fact he passed while Alfred was sick…” She gave another sigh, and shook her head. “Forgive me, I’ve spoken about this at length with you, Hvitserk. You’ve been good to humor me so long, but you really don’t need to. I know I’ve likely exhausted the subject.”

That sounded so like her Hvitserk had to bite back a chuckle. Aethelind was always so considerate, and even after the death of her own brother, after which she’d thrown herself head first into her training, she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. This caused Hvitserk to shake his head, and reach for her hand. “Your theory makes sense,” he said. “If someone wanted to take the throne, it would make sense to do so while you were away, and the King himself was sick. If your brother was as healthy a man as you say he was, then I have no doubt he must have been poisoned. But Alfred, he is well, is he not?” Aethelind nodded slightly, and so Hvitserk smiled. “Then there is hope for your people,” he said. “I am just glad we managed to keep you from running home.”

She sighed, and cracked a small smile. “Yes,” she agreed. “You were all right about that. As much as I wished to be with my family… Aethelred was gone days before I heard, and by the time I returned, would have been long buried. I may have just been putting myself in danger to go.”

Hvitserk nodded. “Exactly. And you were sent here for safety, as well as for peace, hm? Ivar swore to protect you, and letting you run into what may have been a trap would have broken that oath.”

He didn’t miss the way her smile grew as she considered that, before answering, “You’re right, and I’m glad he upheld his oath. Though, I’m sure he was also reluctant to let go of the extra pair of hands when it comes to his new baby.”

Freydis seemed prepared to give birth any day now, in Aethelind’s opinion. And she had already offered to do anything she could to help with the baby, including during the arrival, and after. Both Ivar and Freydis had been more than pleased with this offer, and had readily accepted it.

Hvitserk chuckled softly at her insinuation, even as he shook his head. “Ivar wants you safe,” he told her. “One of… very few things the two of us agree on, these days. But we do. You are more than help for Freydis and him with the new baby.”

“I know,” she replied, chuckling softly as well. “He’s… struggling, right now. I can see as much. But I think he’s still a good man.”

And thus, she had summed up exactly what Hvitserk was struggling with himself. “Sometimes, I wonder how much of my little brother still exists, and how much is replaced by this… ‘Ivar the God’,” he confessed to her. She sighed softly and shook her head.

“He must know he’s not a god,” she replied. “Mustn’t he? I know your people disagree with mine on just who exactly is a god, or is God, but I think… neither of us would be correct in saying it was Ivar.”

Hvitserk nodded in response to her words. “He won’t hear it,” he said. “I’ve tried to tell him, but he thinks I’m the one who is crazy. Not him.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s crazy, exactly,” Aethelind said with a grimace, ever the optimist. “I think he’s just… buried beneath years of anger, and pain, and hatred.” Ubbe had said those exact words to her, many months ago, she recalled. “Perhaps a bit of heartbreak, too. We just need to reach him.”

“If it can be done,” Hvitserk allowed, but ultimately sighed. “If it is not too late.”

There came a knock at the door, and both Hvitserk and Aethelind looked up to it. They shared a look that said neither of them knew who it was, and so she called, “Enter!”

The door opened and Ivar himself stepped inside, causing both their hearts to jolt in their chests. They hoped desperately he hadn’t overheard them.

“Brother,” he greeted, not at all caught off guard by finding them together. “I need a moment with the Princess.”

Hvitserk’s heart jumped in a rather unpleasant way. Ever since he learned who had pushed King Harald back, he had been trying to stay with Aethelind. He didn’t know the full extent of what Ivar was thinking about it, but he knew he wanted to shield Aethelind from any horrible reaction Ivar could have. But… in Kattegat, what Ivar wants, he will have. And just then, he wanted time to speak with her alone. There was nothing for Hvitserk to do against that. So, he simply nodded, patted Aethelind on the shoulder and kissed her head.

“I’ll find you soon,” she told him with a warm smile, and he returned the smile to her, nodding. There was a tense moment as he started out of the room, and he and Ivar looked at each other. Hvitserk cracked a small, knowing, tight-lipped grin, and left.

Once he was gone, and the door was shut, Ivar turned back to Aethelind. She offered him a warm smile, and gestured toward the chair Hvitserk had just occupied. He waved a hand in a way so as to decline the offer to sit.

It was just one moment of him being stubborn, refusing to do something that would be a great help to him. But, she’d just been with Hvitserk, who he had seen fighting with her, training her, and walking at her side. Not that Ivar couldn’t walk, obviously he could, with his crutch and the braces he wore on his legs, but she wouldn’t have to slow down for Hvitserk.

There was no reason for him to want to prove himself to Aethelind, of course. And yet still, something drove him to try and do so, to be just as much of a man as Hvitserk was, when he was with her. It couldn’t be that he wanted to impress her. There was no need for that. He was married already anyway, and he loved Freydis more than anything. No, it was just that he- again- was struggling to live up to his brother. Wasn’t it always that?

Aethelind, of course, saw right through it. She gave him a somewhat pointed look, the sort he had come to recognize in her that said she saw through whatever it was he was attempting. He’d learned how similarly they thought since she arrived, and that meant it was incredibly difficult to pull something over on her.

Ivar often found himself trying not to think too hard on why he found that entertaining, as opposed to frustrating. It created a very interesting banter between the two of them, and he found her challenging him in ways that strengthened him. Perhaps that was why he found his time with the Princess to be entertaining, and not frustrating. Their thought processes complemented each other, as opposed to rubbing against each other.

You will be pulled like the tides, at the command of the moon.

The words nearly sent a chill down his spine. He’d heard them at the same time he was told, by the Seer, that a snake had settled in his skull- whatever that meant. He wasn’t sure what these other words meant, either, but they’d been part of his final prophecy. Ivar had killed him right after that, but no one else knew.

He questioned if Aethelind could have figured it out. It was probably better she’d arrived after the Seer’s death. Hvitserk was close enough to the truth, he didn’t need someone else learning what had happened.

Which, brought him back to why he wanted to speak with her. It was no secret to him that she must have known Lagertha, Björn, Ubbe, and Torvi were in Wessex, along with Bishop Heahmund, but he was hanging onto that. He was never one to play his cards the moment he had them. So, this card was one he was hanging onto, until such a time as it would truly help him to play it.

Ivar ignored the fact he rather hoped she’d tell him one day. It was a foolish thing to hope for. As much as he wanted to believe she trusted him, there was no doubt in his mind that Björn and Ubbe would have turned her against him. It was why he couldn’t trust her, not fully. There were things he trusted about her, things he trusted she would be consistent in, but if he were to trust her… He’d be a fool.

So perhaps he had brought something of a test for her. It was clear to him now that Hvitserk was beginning to turn against him, and while he intended to test Hvitserk, he figured this could play as a test of Aethelind’s loyalties in Kattegat. If they resided with Hvitserk, then there was a good chance they resided too with Björn and Ubbe.

He wouldn’t be sure what to make of it if they resided more with himself than with Hvitserk.

A deep breath, inhaled and exhaled, signaled to Aethelind he was about to begin, and so she sat up straighter in her seat, giving him all her attention.

"I had something I wished to speak with you about, before it is done,” he confessed, and she nodded with a small smile.

“Of course,” she said. “I’d be happy to discuss it with you. What’s on your mind, Ivar?”

And there was that perfect disposition, once again. Always so gentle, so good to him. She was always ready to drop everything to help with anything. Perhaps that was part of why he didn’t trust her fully, too. Everyone he’d ever known had had a dark side. Where was hers?

Ivar sighed, and chuckled. “I have made a decision, but I think you should know before I enact it,” he said. She watched how he shifted his weight, leaning more heavily onto his crutch. His legs must have been bothering him, Aethelind realized. She wished he’d sit.

"Sit and tell me?” she suggested.

He almost rolled his eyes. What was it with her and wanting him to sit? He was just fine standing. Perhaps his legs were aching, but-

“Ivar, Hvitserk was sitting. Would you just sit down and get out of your head for once?”

Ivar blinked a few times, his eyes widening and brows lifting as he looked to her. Shocked, he held up a hand in surrender, and finally went to sit across from her. This seemed to satisfy Aethelind, as she smiled and nodded, silently permitting him to continue.

“I… have found an ally,” he said. He still seemed a bit stunned, which earned a giggle from Aethelind. “What is it?”

“You look like a startled duck,” she said, laughing again and leaning against her desk.

This only seemed to further confuse him. “A startled duck?” he questioned. “How do I look like a startled duck, hm?” She sort of mimicked the expression he’d just had, and he chuckled. “I did not look like that,” he argued.

“You did,” she insisted. “Don’t worry, it was sweet, and I won’t tell anyone. I don’t imagine the King of Kattegat would want his reputation ruined by his people learning that some foreign Princess could reduce him to a startled duck.”

Ivar rolled his eyes at her- really, he rolled his whole head- before pinning them back on her, and trying to get on with business. “I want to send Hvitserk to speak with him on my behalf,” he said. “I have come to you about this because I see how often you are with my brother, and I wanted to warn you before I sent him away.”

“When are you sending him?” she questioned. He noted the frown, the way her brows creased, and knew she wasn’t fond of this decision. But, he supposed he’d not be happy if he found out a close friend of his was being sent away.

Not that he’d ever had many close friends, but the point remained.

He answered her, “He will leave in a few days. I don’t want it mentioned to him until I have spoken with him, though. The reason I told you is so you would not be surprised by it.”

Aethelind nodded a little. “Well, thank you for letting me know,” she said, and her small smile returned. “Hopefully, we’ll finish my training before then.”

“If not, we will find a way to finish it without Hvitserk,” Ivar offered. He smiled at the way she lit up. If only his brothers and Lagertha weren’t in Wessex, hadn’t probably gotten to Aethelind before she had come to Kattegat. He could have taken more joy in those smiles of hers then.

“You could always train me,” she pointed out then, and that ‘startled duck’ look returned to his face. “And before you say no, I know you’re the most feared man in the world. You’ve earned that some way, haven’t you? I imagine you fight better than anyone would guess.”

Ivar shrugged slightly. “That may be so,” he said. “But how can I know you won’t use it against me some day, hm?”

“Me? Turn against you?” Aethelind asked, and laughed softly. “Kattegat will have fallen, and Wessex as well, the day I make the decision to do that.”

“Is that true? You would not turn against me?” he questioned. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes watching her closely. “What if it was your brother who asked it of you?”

Aethelind wasn’t quite sure what had brought this on, and so she returned his look with a very similar one, and answered, “I can’t see why he would, but were he to… I’d warn against breaking his word, and stand by mine.”

“And do I have your word that you will not turn against me?”

She smiled at him genuinely, and gave a short nod.

“You do.”

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[calwrites]

The Illusion (pt 4)

Summary: The BAU is officially on the case, the outcome of which will probably decide the reader’s future with the FBI. The reader begins to realize that there’s more going on with this case than she thought and she can’t share with her team just yet.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x UA!Reader

Warnings: Umbrella Academy spoilers

Word count: 6.4k

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

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you entered the department store. Already, local officers were wandering around contaminating the crime scene. You had hoped that your team would beat you here, so you wouldn’t have to order the locals around. It always made you feel a little weird, especially when no one else from your team was at the scene.

After setting up a room at the station for your team, Hotch had called and told you to head over to the department store, where Morgan and Prentiss would meet you. You had a feeling that he was trying to stay away from you. You had questions about why you had gone from desk duty to being required to be in the field in less than 24 hours. Chances are Hotch didn’t have any answers, but he would have ideas. Ideas that it seemed he didn’t want to share with you.

“All right,” you called, making sure that you could be heard easily over all of the low chatter. Immediately, curious eyes were on you, wondering who the new woman was. You made yourself continue standing tall under their gaze. Luckily, you hadn’t changed since leaving Quantico, so you were still dressed professionally. Unfortunately, you hadn’t changed since leaving Quantico over 12 hours ago, and you probably looked a little worse for the wear. “I’m Agent Y/L/N with the FBI. Crime scene techs can keep taking pictures, but I need everyone else to get out. Carefully, please, so we don’t contaminate the crime scene any more.”

You could see some officers muttering amongst themselves. They were being a little slow to follow your orders. It was pushback that you were used to getting. Local officers often didn’t love the FBI showing up and telling them how to do their job. But it just so happened that in some cases they were doing their job wrong.

You were about to repeat your order when a loud voice behind you yelled, “You heard the agent. Get to it and get out.”

You allowed yourself a small smile as you turned to find Derek and Emily walking into the store. It was possibly that you had never been so relieved to hear Derek yelling before.

“You know, if you were going to drag us back here, you could have at least warned us. Imagine how much time we could have saved if we weren’t flying back and forth.” You rolled your eyes at Derek’s teasing, but a weight lifted off your chest at his words. At least for now, Derek was going to act like everything was normal. And if Derek was willing to ignore the whole super hero thing, chances were everyone else was too.

“Hey, I had no part in picking this case.”

“Oh, so you didn’t give the detective Hotch’s card and tell her to call if she wanted out help?” The heavy sarcasm in Emily’s voice made you grin, but you didn’t get a chance to answer before Detective Patch approached your group. She quickly shook hands with Derek and Emily.

“Detective Patch. Was all of that really necessary?”

“All of what?” Emily asked carefully. While it was usual to get some resistance from most of the local officers, the person who called the team in to help was usually pretty helpful, if not friendly. You weren’t surprised by Patch’s less than friendly demeanor. She struck you as a person who liked doing her job well on her own.

“That little display of power.” She gestured to the now mostly empty department store. Crime scene techs were still taking pictures, but the rest of the officers had cleared out.

“Detective, that was to make sure that no crucial piece of evidence gets destroyed because too many officers are stumbling around the crime scene.” Morgan raised his brows at Patch as he spoke. “We don’t play power games with officers that we’re supposed to be working with. We hope your guys will do the same. So, what do we have here?”

“Got a report of shots fired. So far, we don’t have anyone who’s seen anything. I’m not sure if this is even connected to the donut shop shootings, but I figured I’d check it out.”

“You were at another crime scene when you got the report of the shot here, right?” Patch shot you a look you couldn’t quite decipher. You could tell she was dying to ask why you were here.

“Yeah. I went by to question the tow truck driver from the donut shop, but he was dead when I got there.” For a moment, Patch looked tired and maybe a bit frazzled. This case was turning into more and more of a mystery. It was already stranger than most cases in the city were.

“Rossi and Reid are heading to that scene,” Derek told you. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the mention of Reid’s name. You had to focus on the crime scene in front of you.

“I guess you should have listened to me earlier.” You and Patch both rolled your eyes at the voice coming from a few rows over. Derek and Emily, on the other hand, were immediately alert, quickly following the voice. Diego knelt on the ground, inspecting a bullet. Derek and Emily both looked over his leather outfit critically.

“I’m sorry. You are?”

Diego looked up at Derek. “You don’t recognize me? You crashed my father’s memorial. Got to see a pretty good show. I would’ve thought it’d be hard to forget.”

“But what are you doing here?”

“And do you seriously still not understand the chain of custody? If you touch it, I can’t use it.”

“Let me save you some time running ballistics,” Diego started like Morgan and Patch hadn’t said anything. “These nine millimeters haven’t been manufactured since-”

“1963. Odd. I know.” You tried not to smile at the exasperation in Patch’s voice, but it was nice finally having someone else be more over Diego than you usually were.

“They match the casings at the other scene?” Morgan asked. He took the bullet from Diego. “And, unless you’re a detective, you need to get out of here.”

“Y/N said I could be a consultant.” You started shaking your head before Diego had even finished his sentence. He tried to sling his arm around your shoulders, but you promptly pushed him away.

“I never said that.”

Diego ignored you. “What other scene?” He looked at Patch for the answer, most likely figuring that she was more likely to give him information than Morgan or Prentiss were.

“Ishmael’s Towing. The driver from the donut shop. I found him hanging from the ceiling.” Patch sighed. “I guess he must have known something after all.”

“Told you.” Diego sang.

Patch turned to look at your teammates. “There are other agents there, right?”

“That’s right. Between Rossi and Reid, hopefully they can find something useful.”

“I’m sure by now Pretty Boy has already read through any and all paperwork there. Maybe we’ll be lucky and he kept detailed accounts. Maybe a planner.”

“How did they get stuck going there?”  You tried hard to keep your voice level. “I can’t imagine Rossi would be happy going to a garage when it smells like burnt flesh.”

Derek laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Well it wasn’t his idea. He and Reid were supposed to meet you here, but Reid kept telling Prentiss and I that it wouldn’t be so bad at the garage. Smell is the weakest sense, so we’d be able to ignore the scent after a few minutes. Hotch told him that if that was true, then surely Reid wouldn’t mind going to the garage.”

“Poor Rossi.” You could imagine the scene perfectly in your head. Reid probably thought he was being encouraging. You were sure Rossi wasn’t very happy with him.

“Poor Reid. The kid looked like Hotch had taken away his puppy.”

“I think he wanted to see you.” You narrowed your eyes at Derek’s teasing, but you could feel your cheeks heating up. Luckily, Patch saved you.

“In the span of 24 hours, I’ve had attacks in three different places across town. Whoever this is, they’re not slowing down. That’s why I asked for the BAU’s help.” She paused, clenching her jaw slightly before turning to Diego. “And that’s why I’m also going to ask for your help, Diego. If you actually give a shit, and you have any fresh ideas.”

“What about the guy’s kid? From the donut shop?” Suddenly, Diego’s bravado was gone. The cocky smirk was replaced by a seriousness you hadn’t seen since you were seventeen. That’s how it had always gone. The second the mission was on, Diego stopped playing around.

“We have our technical analyst looking into extended family. Once they’re found, we’ll question them and, in case anyone goes after them, we’ll give them some protection,” Prentiss answered.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t already called. Something like finding children should be easy for Garcia. Plus, she’s always looking for an excuse to talk to the Derek Morgan.”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Y/N. I am going to call her though. Make sure she hasn’t found something, and Hotch just didn’t tell us yet.” Derek took out his phone and stepped a few feet away. You could see both Patch and Diego raise a brow at the flirtatious way Morgan spoke, but you ignored it. 

Instead, you took a careful look around the room. “They really didn’t care whether or not they trashed this place, did they?” 

Prentiss huffed in agreement. “Any security footage?”

“Nothing from in here. Outside cameras caught two shooters fleeing. Get this, they were wearing some creepy kids masks.”

“This town really is going to shit,” Diego sighed.

“Coming from the guy dressed in spandex.” Prentiss’s eyes once again looked critically over Diego’s outfit.

“It’s leather.”

“And don’t act like you didn’t wear an outfit like that in high school. I’ve seen your yearbook pictures, Prentiss.”

“All right. You guys go fill out your forms. I’m going to go catch these animals.” Diego paused as he walked to the doors, turning to look at Patch. “And Eudora, I do give a shit.”

“Let’s hope he does,” Emily mutters as Patch leaves you two. “If your brother does something to screw up this case, the brass are going to be all over you.”

You sighed, nodding slightly. You had figured as much. It would be best for you if this case was solved quickly and quietly.

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

You chewed your lip thoughtfully as you studied the crime scene pictures stuck to the board. The room that your team had been given at the police station was empty currently. Hotch and JJ were dealing with the press. Rossi and Reid were heading back from the garage where the tow truck driver had been found. Derek and Emily had gone to the medical examiner’s office to see the body of the tow truck driver. Based on the pictures in front of you, that wasn’t going to be a pleasant sight.

It was clear that the man had been tortured. He had severe cuts and bruising. Not to mention the electrocution. Placing the clamps on the man’s nipple to electrocute him was an...interesting choice the unsubs had made. 

You glanced outside into the bullpen to see Hotch and JJ talking to Patch and the other detective working the case. Beeman, you thought his name was. He was much more receptive to you than Patch was. It wasn’t that she was hostile, per say. It was more that you could tell that every time she looked at you, you could tell that she was assuming that you were going to behave just like Diego. You had kept yourself busy in the small room by looking over all of the information so that you didn’t have to talk to her.

As you watched, Rossi and Reid walked into the bullpen, making their way over to Hotch. After a few words, Reid looked up sharply in your direction. You looked away immediately when he caught your eye through the glass, feeling like a kid who got caught staring at their crush as your cheeks heated up.

You didn’t look up from your papers when the door opened, but you could tell that it was Spencer who sank into the seat next to you.

“So I was thinking that maybe, if you wanted to...I mean it might be a good idea if we, maybe-” The softness of Spencer’s voice pulled the corners of your mouth into a small smile. You looked up at him, watching how his hands moved as he continued to ramble nervously.

“Spencer, do you want to talk later today? About what happened yesterday?” Spencer looked at you gratefully and nodded.

“What happened yesterday?” The tone of Rossi’s voice made it obvious that he had his own suspicions. He, Hotch, and JJ took their own seats around the table. Hotch, of course, was pretending he hadn’t heard anything. JJ and Rossi, on the other hand, both wore victorious smiles. On many occasions, both of them had encouraged you to ask Spencer out.

“Garcia called when we were on our way back from the ME’s office.” For the second time that day, you thanked the timing of Derek Morgan. He and Prentiss walked into the room and took the last two chairs. “The bullets from the department store definitely match the bullets from the garage.”

“But not the bullets from the donut shop?” Rossi asked.

“No. All of the bullets found at the donut shop match guns found at the scene.” Hotch checked his notes. “Did Garcia run the prints found on the knife?”

“Yep. They don’t match the driver’s prints. And she ran them through all of our databases. The only match is the cold case that local PD told us about.”

Hotch looked at Prentiss for a moment, going over her words. “Tell her to run them again.”

“She already did. Multiple times. She said that she could try to get access to some international databases if we wanted her to check those.”

“That won’t be necessary for now.”

“Hotch, you should also know that Garcia said she can’t find any records of the driver having kids. He’s married. Wife lives in town. No kids though.”

Hotch nodded, but you could tell by the way his eyes shifted that he was stumped by this. “Might not have been his child. Maybe the child of a family friend. Morgan, you and Prentiss go interview the wife after we’re done here. Try to find out who the child is and whether her husband might have had any enemies.”

Your team was quiet for a few seconds. The case didn’t make much sense yet. You were still missing a few pieces. Hopefully, you could start figuring out the puzzle before more people died.

“Say the driver was the target,” Rossi began slowly, thinking off the top of his head. “Whoever’s after him sends a bunch of local goons to the donut shop. He manages to get away, but they find him at his garage. Then they torture him for information.”

“They probably killed him after he gave them the information they needed.” Derek threw his pen down onto the table. 

“Or after they realized he didn’t have the information they needed.” Your team looked at you in confusion. “The woman working at the donut shop said she heard the tow truck drive off before the shooting started.”

“She could have been misremembering.” You nodded slightly at Derek’s suggestion, but you didn’t agree. 

“Someone should head over there to interview her after this.”

“I’ll go,” you volunteered quickly after Hotch spoke. He hesitated a second too long before nodding. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but a room full of profilers definitely did. He didn’t want you out in the field. But was it because he didn’t trust you or was there another reason?

“Take Rossi.”

“Actually, Hotch, I was hoping to look over the file for the cold case. JJ and I were wondering if there might be anything in there that’s similar to this case.” Hotch missed the quick look of confusion that JJ shot at Rossi, who cut his eyes between you and Reid in response.

JJ’s brows raised in realization. “Yeah, we were hoping some fresh eyes might shed some light on the case.”

“Fine.” Hotch looked between you and Reid. You tried not to shift your body language in any way that might make him suggest something was going on between the two of you, but you immediately started overthinking it. Did you always sit so much closer to Reid than you did to whoever was on your other side? Was your head usually turned ever so slightly to face him more. “Reid, you go with Y/L/N.” Hotch turned his serious gaze to you. “Why do you think they weren’t after the driver?”

“Well, say the woman at the donut shop is misremembering when the car drove off, it still doesn’t make sense. Looking at the pictures of the driver, I wouldn’t think he would be able to fight off all of those men by himself. Were any of the wounds on the body gunshots?”

Derek shook his head. “No. The ME said there were no gunshot wounds. All of the wounds were made well after the attack at the donut shop.”

“And you’re right,” Emily said slowly. “There’s no way the driver could have overpowered all of those men.”

“So when the driver left there must have been someone else in there. Whoever that is was skilled enough to take out all of those guys. I doubt he did it without injuring himself though. Garcia should check hospitals for any gunshot wounds after the attack.”

“So then why torture the driver?”

“Maybe…” You were distracted from Prentiss’s question by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You dug it out quickly, but declined the call when you saw it was Allison. It was the third time she had called since you got to the station. You had sent her a quick text telling her you were busy, but apparently she didn’t care.

“Everything okay, Y/L/N?” You nodded quickly to Hotch, pocketing your phone once more.

“Fine.” You sighed as you thought over the situation quickly. “Maybe whoever killed the driver didn’t know that he wasn’t the target.”

“What do you mean?” Rossi asked, leaning back and steepling his fingers as he studied you.

“What if whoever killed the driver just assumed that he was the target? What if this is some sort of organized crime? Whoever is in charge hired some local goons to kill the target at the donut shop, but he kills them all and gets away. So they send in two new people, who are maybe the next tier up. All these people know is that the target was at the donut shop, but got away.”

“So they assume it was the tow truck driver, and then torture him for whatever information they’re after.”

You nodded at Morgan. “But then they realize that he’s not the target, so they kill him. I bet whoever they’re after was at the department store, but got away again.”

“There’s only video of two people leaving the store, though. Looks like a man and a woman.” Prentiss frowned at the picture in front of her. “And what’s with the weird masks?”

“Maybe the target knew another way out. The security system at the store wasn’t exactly top notch,” Rossi suggested.

“Do the masks mean anything to you, Y/L/N?” You looked up at Hotch in surprise. “Are they local mascots? Characters from a local business? Something like that?”

“I don’t recognize them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t mean something to the community. They could still be from a pizza place or a school. It’s not like I got to spend a lot of time at either of those places.”

For a second, it was like the wind had been sucked from the room. Everyone sat still, once again aware of how different your upbringing was. As your team had gotten into the groove of trying to work out his case, any of the remaining awkwardness had started to dissipate. Now, it was back in full force.

“We can ask local PD if they recognize the masks,” Rossi suggested after a second of silence.

“You know it’s common for children to be scared of people in masks. While most kids grow out of it with time, many adults are naturally unsettled when faced with strangers in masks. It’s one of the reasons so many horror movies feature villains wearing masks.”

“Good to know, Reid,” Derek muttered.

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

The bell rang clearly through the empty store as you and Spencer entered. The mess from the attack was gone, but the store was still devoid of customers. The door to the back swung open and an older woman came out.

“Hello,” she greeted cheerfully. “What can I get for you two?”

“We’re actually with the FBI.” The woman’s face fell as you and Spencer both flashed your badges. “I’m Doctor Reid and this is Agent Y/L/N.”

“You two are here to ask about the attack the other night.”

“We are.”

“I’ve already gone over it with both of the detectives. Do I really need to go through all of this again?”

“We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” you answered gently. “We’re trained to see things differently than local detectives. It would help us greatly if we could ask you some questions.” You could see that the woman was still unsure, so you put on your best smile and hopped on one of the stools. “And since we’re already here, we’ll go ahead and take two monster donuts.”

The woman’s eyes lit up as she looked over you once again. “You must be from around here. You didn’t even have to look at the menu to know that the monster donuts are the best donuts. Let me go grab your donuts and then we can talk.” With another smile, she disappeared into the back again.

“What exactly is a monster donut?” Spencer slowly sat on the stool next to you.

“When they mess up a donut, they decorate it to look like a monster instead of throwing it away.”

“So we’re paying for the misshapen donuts that no one would buy without a gimmick?”

“No.” You smiled sweetly at Spencer, watching in delight as his cheeks reddened. “You’re paying for the misshapen donuts. After all, the guy is supposed to pay for the first date.”

Spencer grinned at your teasing. “So this is a date? Here I thought we were on the clock.”

“We can multitask.” You took Spencer’s hand in yours, squeezing it slightly. The back door swung open again and you two sprang apart.

“Here we go. By the way, my name is Agnes.” She placed a plate in front of each of you. Grinning, you inspected the donuts.

“Oh I got Frankenstein. You know, my brother used to beg for a Frankenstein one whenever we came here. Lucky you, Reid. The vampires were always my favorite.”

“We can trade if you want.” You started shaking your head, but Spencer was already switching your plates. You tried to frown at him, but couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth from turning up.

Agnes’s eyes flicked between the two of you. “Well aren’t you two a lovely couple.” You and Spencer both sat up straighter, leaning away from each other slightly. This was still work. You couldn’t afford to do anything unprofessional right now. Spencer muttered something about not being a couple, but Agnes didn’t seem convinced.

“So can you take us through what happened that night?” Spencer seemed relieved that you interrupted his ramblings. He took a big bite of Frankenstein’s head as Agnes began to talk.

“It was a pretty slow night. Only the one man and his son. The man ordered an eclair. His son got coffee.”

“Decaf?” Spencer asked through another bite of the donut. Anges shook her head. “How old would you say the son was?”

“About 13, I’d guess. He seemed so serious though. Very mature for his age. He was wearing a school uniform, but not one that I recognized. I don’t see many private school kids in here. I remember thinking that they looked like an odd pair.”

“Odd how?”

“Well the boy looked perfectly put together. The man, on the other hand, looked a little dirty. Not that there’s anything wrong with getting a little dirty while you’re working. Heaven knows that I can work up a sweat making donuts all day.”

“All right, so you give the two of them the eclair and coffee. Then what do you do?”

“I went into the back to start getting ready to close. I figured I might as well call it a night once those two left. While I was back there, I heard a car start up outside. I looked out the window and saw the tow truck driving away. Then people started shooting. I hid under the desk until I thought it was safe to come out.”

“How much time would you say passed between when the truck drove away and the shooting started.”

“Oh not long. Less than a minute.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You dug it out, ready to decline another call from Allison, but instead you were greeted with a text from Prentiss. Spencer met your eyes, waiting for you to talk.

“They’ve talked with the widow. The driver didn’t have any kids.” 

Just then, Spencer’s phone started ringing. “It’s Hotch. I’ll be right back.” You watched as Spencer quickly exited the donut shop before turning back to Agnes.

“That boy was not the driver’s son. Did you see him leave with the driver?” Agnes shook her head. “Can you describe him for me?”

“Dark hair. Maybe lighter eyes. I didn’t really look very closely to be honest. Very serious demeanor.” You nodded slightly and began to get up from your seat. It was unlikely that you would get anything else useful. Still, it had been nice to have another Griddy’s donut, you thought as you popped your last bit into your mouth. “Oh wait. There was something else. He had a tattoo on his wrist.”

Your blood ran cold. You looked at Agnes, trying to control your facial expression. “A tattoo?”

“Yes. It was an umbrella. I remember thinking it was strange that someone so young would have a tattoo. Is that helpful?”

Without thinking, you pushed yourself into her head. It was easy to find the memory of that night. And sitting there, at the corner of the bar, was Five. Blinking quickly, you exited her head as quickly as you had entered it.

Well it definitely made your life more difficult. “Yes. Thank you, ma’am. And thank you for the donuts. They were delicious.” You dropped some cash onto the counter and walked back outside.

“Did she have anything useful?” Spencer asked as you approached the SUV.

“No,” you replied without missing a beat. “Nothing she hadn’t already told Patch. What did Hotch want?”

“He wants us back at the station to start working on a geographic profile for the potential target. He thinks that if we can find the target, we’ll be able to find the unsubs.”

You nodded slightly before sliding into the driver’s seat. Without any hesitation, you began making your way back to the police station. 

Another car pulls into the parking lot as you’re pulling out. “At least she has some more customers coming,” you say, trying to ignore Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat. Finally, you glanced over, eyebrows raised in question.

“Sorry. It’s just a little weird seeing you here. I mean, it makes sense that you would be familiar with the city since you grew up here, but you didn’t need directions to the donut shop even though we ran into construction. It’s like you know the city off the back of your hand.”

“I do. We had to memorize the layout of the city as kids. We had to be able to come up with the quickest routes between any two points.”

“Oh. And here I thought I was weird for learning classical literature and theoretical physics as a kid.”

“We had to do that too.” Spencer didn’t respond. Instead, he looked through the window as you continued to drive. For a second, you almost looked into his head to see what he was thinking. It was almost second nature, like it had been in the donut shop.

You had to stop whatever was going on with you. It had been a mistake to come back to the city. It had been a mistake to agree to work on this case. You were regressing too much. Wanting to look in everyone’s head just because it would make your life easier. Putting your siblings above all else. You had just lied to Spencer for crying out loud. You should have told him about the tattoo. You should tell your team that Five was at the diner. That he’s probably the target.

But you can’t. You won’t. At least not yet. You have to talk to Five first. Because as much as you hate to admit it, saving the world is probably more important than solving this case. Even if that means you might lose your job.

All of this is running through your head as you pull up at the police station. Your phone buzzes again as you enter the bullpen. “You go ahead, Spence. I need to take this.” Spencer hesitates slightly, but you urge him on with a small smile. You accept the call. “What, Allison?”

“Y/N finally! Where are you?”

“Where am I? I’m at work. Now why do you keep calling me?”

“You have to come home. We’re having a family meeting.”

You run a rand through your hair, trying not to snap in the middle of the bullpen. “Allison, I am working. I can’t go back to the house right now. I’ll probably be by later, once we’re done for the night. I don’t even know if the team got me a hotel room, so I might be sleeping at the house.”

“Y/N, you have to come now. It’s about Mom.”

“About Mom?” you repeat. “Look, whatever it is, I’m sure she’s fine. Let her recharge or ask Pogo about it. I’m busy, so please stop calling. We’ll talk later.”

“Please, Y/N. Diego should be on his way to the police station. Just go with him so we can all talk about this.”

“Diego should be-” You turn sharply to look at the room your team is set up in. Sure enough, Diego is in there, gesturing wildly while Patch seemingly tries to get him out. You hand up on Allison, stuff your phone back in your pocket, and stomp over.

“Y/N, there you are,” Diego says when you walk in. The rest of your team takes in your stoic face and clenched fists without a comment. They know you’re pissed and they know better than to mess with you. “Come on. We need to go home.”

Diego tries to take your arm, but you grab his wrist before he can. “No, Diego, you need to go home. And you need to tell Allison to stop calling me. Because I don’t care about what she and Luther have to say.” Diego tried to get his wrist back as you dragged him out of the room, but to no avail.

“It’s about Mom. It’s serious.”

“I think whatever is going on with Mom can wait until later. She’s a robot. Now, leave me alone. I’m working on the case. You know, the one you’re supposed to be giving a shit about.”

Finally, you let go of Diego’s wrist. He looks at you for a minute and you wonder whether he’s going to try to pick you up and carry you back home. Instead, he shakes his head. “Fine. But if we make a decision that you don’t like, you can’t complain.”

“Ok fine. Goodbye, Diego.” You watch as he stalks out of the police station. You groan into your hands before turning back to the room. Cases were so much easier before your family was involved.

Without looking at anyone, you drop into a seat in between Morgan and JJ. It’s quiet for a moment before Hotch speaks. “Is everything okay, Y/L/N?”

“Everything’s fine.” You push yourself up to look at your boss. “Sorry about him. Diego has no boundaries, professional or personal. He’s also just a general pain in the ass.” If you aren’t mistaken, there’s the littlest movement of Hotch’s mouth. It’s probably the most you’ve ever been able to make him smile.

“So I know that we should pretend like we didn’t hear that, but did you say that your mom is a robot?” You turn to JJ, who’s trying not to smile. However, she can’t help herself when you nod, grinning back at her. “Ok, once this case is over I’m going to need to know more about that.”

“Until then, let’s go over what we just learned.” You sat up straighter, giving Hotch all of your attention. There’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach, reminding you that you have important information. You just need to talk to Five first.

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

“All right, everyone, let’s stop for the night. We’ll go back to the hotel, then come back fresh tomorrow.” Everyone groaned in relief as they began to gather their things to leave the station. You stood slowly, cracking your neck as you did. Next to you, Reid was doing the same thing. The two of you had been hunched over a map for most of the evening, trying to work out the geographical profile of the unsub’s target. It was easy to make yourself forget that it was Five you were profiling, though your breath caught every time you saw your house or the eyeball factory on the map. You just hoped that Spencer bought it every time you turned it into a yawn.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether you should follow them out to the SUVs or take your family’s car, which had been sitting at the station all day, back to the house. Spencer paused at the doorway, looking back at you, which caused Hotch to turn back too.

“Oh, Y/N, we couldn’t get you a room when we checked in. You can come with us to the hotel and try for yourself. Or I guess someone might be willing to share.” Spencer opened his mouth, most likely to volunteer his room. The two of you had shared rooms before when the local hotels didn’t have enough rooms for everyone to have their own, but you weren’t sure if it would be weird now that you two were kind of a thing.

“I’ll just go back to the house. My sister has been calling me all day, and I told her I’d be back tonight.” Right on cue, your phone started buzzing. “Speak of the devil,” you muttered as you answered your phone. “Hey, Allison, I was just-”

“Y/N, you have to get back quick. We were just attacked.”

“You were just attacked?” Your voice rose in alarm, drawing the attention of your team. They quickly returned to the room, watching you with concern. “What do you mean you were attacked? What happened?”

“We had a family meeting earlier and then afterwards some freaks in masks showed up and started shooting up the house.”

“Masks? Like creepy animal masks?” Your team’s eyes widened. They quickly began putting their stuff back down. It looked like it would be a longer night than any of you anticipated.

“Yeah some woman in a pink mask and a man in a blue one. We managed to fight them off.”

“Who’s ‘we’? Is everyone okay?”

“Me, Luther, Diego, and Vanya.”

You made a face before you could stop yourself. “You had a family meeting when half the team wasn’t there? But you included Vanya?”

Allison huffed on the other end of the line. “Yes, we included Vanya. Mom was her mom too. And you and Five wouldn’t come. Klaus was here for the meeting, but he’s gone.”

“He’s gone? Was he there when you were attacked?”

“No he probably left to go get high.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to let the matter of Klaus go. You’d know more once you got the house, you finally decided. You headed out the door, your team following close behind you. You stuttered for a moment as something Allison had said finally landed. “Did something happen to Mom?”

Your team glanced at you as everyone piled into the SUVs. Allison’s voice sounded small on the other end of the line. “What makes you say that?”

Answering a question with a question. She was deflecting. “Allison, what happened to Mom? You said that she was Vanya’s mom too. Past tense. She is our mom.” Your team was doing a good job acting like they weren’t listening, but you knew they noticed how your voice cracked with panic.

“They killed her. We don’t know what happened. We lost them for a few minutes.”

“They killed-they can’t have killed her. She’s a robot. No they can’t have just turned her off. It can’t just work like that.”

“It can, Y/N. And they did.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing the tears to stay back. “I’ll be there soon.” Without waiting for a reply, you ended the call. Your fingers moved restlessly as the drive continued, until Spencer took your hand in his. He gave you a comforting squeeze. Looking up at him, you managed a small smile before letting out a shaky breath. Whoever these masked freaks were, they were going to be sorry they had messed with your family. You would make sure of it.

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

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[a-mended-pact]

Chapter : Seven

This chapter is Reader and Spencer finally discussing what's going on. It's a little angst but a semi happy ending.

Taglist is open. 🥰

Part 6

This one is definitely one of my favorite chapters I've written so far.

Word count: 3,121

I am currently experiencing heavy writers block so I would love to know your thoughts or theories!

If you have questions for the series please message or send an ask.

Requests are open

I ended up walking out of the room and I could feel myself shaking. I was infuriated. I had been so upset with everything that happened between Spencer and Cat that I couldn’t see straight. Maybe I was being overly emotional but to be fair I still haven’t slept yet. Spencer had followed me out but neither of us made it far before I saw Ethan sitting in the break room talking to Jj. I glanced at Spencer then back at him. ‘He deserves to be in a cell, not in our break room. You and I both know that.’ He sighed and nodded knowing damn well now was not the time to fully argue with me. My hands were sore. I needed a release from the stress of the past couple of days. I would much rather the endorphins get released by Spencer and I tangled within the sheets.

It had been sometime since Spencer and I had been intimate due to work and me just not being in the mood because of the recent changes in my medication. We hadn’t openly discussed what had been going on with us to anyone on the team. At least I didn't. I wanted to keep things to myself. I had always suffered with dark thoughts and bad coping mechanisms. It wasn’t until Spencer pointed it out when we started living together. That it wasn't pointed out to me. He had spoken to me about it as gently as possible because he understood it was a sensitive topic that could either make me sob or be deeply upset with him and push him away. 

It luckily ended in me trusting his judgement and he set me up with a psychologist. Within a month of therapy they decided I needed meds for my issues. Mood stabilizers, Antidepressants and anxiety medication. It took a lot of trial and error for us to find the right ones that worked for me. I was lucky enough to have a person in my life to love me through the changes I had to experience during that time. I unfortunately suffered from a hazy mind. If I get too focused on something I tend to forget to take all of the above. Spencer always kept a track of when I took them. He’d message me when I needed to when we weren’t together no matter what. 

Of course he couldn’t when he was kidnapped. So here I was having a hard time processing everything I needed to. ‘You need to go home and sleep, eat and take your medication my love.’ As he spoke he cupped my face and rubbed his thumb over my cheek. I couldn’t help but notice the way Ethan looked at me with envy from the other room when I wasn’t staring into Spencer’s golden irises. A part of me felt like Spencer was just trying to get rid of me but I also knew he needed to come home and rest too. I can’t imagine he actually got any while he was kidnapped even if he was presumably only with Ethan. 

I grabbed his hand and held it to my face as I leaned into it. I didn’t care that I had to stretch out my freshly made wounds. If anything the pain was a nice distraction from the whirlwind my mind had become from the ticking of the hours that had gone by. ‘Please come home with me. Ethan will be taken care of and it’s not like the Kitten can get out of her cell. Please.’ His eyes softened as he heard me speak and he went to shake his head no until Emily spoke up from behind us. 

‘Both of you are going home. Neither of you have a choice in the matter. Everyone here has gotten rest but you two. The rest of the team and I can handle this by ourselves for a little while. Go home you two.’ She spoke loud enough to cause a scene and I couldn’t help but wince as everyone stared. ‘She’s right you haven’t eaten a proper meal Y/L/N in days’ Rossi commented from the peanut gallery. I pulled Spencer’s hand away from my face and squeezed it tightly. I hated being called out by anyone that wasn’t him. He has learned how to do it without making me feel guilty over the past couple of years. Right now all I felt was guilt. Guilty over the fact that on top of worrying about Spencer they were worried about me as well. I was such a screw up I swear. ‘ I agree I think I saw you resting your eyes maybe 10 minutes before you headed to the vending machine for an energy drink because the coffee wasn’t working for you anymore.’ Luke commented as he brought me my cardigan that I had draped over my chair at my desk. I sighed as I looked at him. 

‘Guys we are going. I promise.’ Spencer spoke as he began to pull my hand lightly to lead me away from everyone. ‘Don’t forget to put him in a holding cell.’ I said as I pointed at Ethan as his eyes never seemed to leave Spencer and I. I locked on to his gaze and followed his line of sight. Correction: it wasn’t on both of us. It was only on Spencer. 

I squeezed his hand harder than I probably should have. I didn't care. Ethan was truly creeping me out at that moment. Why was he staring at my husband like a child that had their favorite comfort item taken from them as a punishment.  Perhaps in a way that's what I was doing. I knew the moment he and I left they would treat him like an unsub as they should. He'd get no special treatment because Spencer wouldn't be around. I was giddy at the thought and let out a small laugh as I walked out of the building with him in tow.

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

I felt a weight leave my chest when Y/n asked me to shower with her. I logically knew it was probably because she couldn't bring herself to actually wash her hair or even herself.  I was just thrilled over the fact that once our front door was locked into place she didn't turn around and snap at me about what happened between Cat and I.  I knew what I let happen bothered her greatly. We've spoken about it before many times.  I knew this time though I had almost opened Pandora's box. Perhaps I had only placed the key into it instead. 

Still pulling her into my arms as the hot water washed over us was enough to make me sob into her freshly washed hair. I never wanted her to doubt my love for her. Yet here I was showing attraction to two different people and that wasn't fair to her. Sure it hadn't been spoken about nor did she know about the relationship Ethan and I shared when we were much younger. She had a right to know. I knew that. I also knew now wasn't the time to mention it.

I felt her put her full weight into me as the water droplets rolled down her soft skin. She seemed so fragile.  We seemed so fragile.  Maybe I was overthinking. Maybe I was making up scenarios that would never come. Her hand inched up tracing the wound on my chest underneath it's bandage. I tried not to wince but no matter how gently she caressed it with her fingertips it still stung like it did when it was given to me mere days ago.

'I can't believe he did this to you.' Her voice was barely a whisper as if she too were afraid it would shatter the solace we found behind a mere shower curtain.  I caught her hand in mine and placed it over my heart. I leaned in and kissed her as gently as I could muster. She returned it in kind but I could tell she had more to say. So of course I let her. 

'He hurt you Spence and all you've done is protect him. I want to understand but I can't seem to wrap my head around why you'd protect a man that did such awful things to you.' As she spoke I remembered why I let him get away with it. It was simple. I couldn't remember who had actually hurt me. If it were him or Lindsey.  I never coherently saw her. I only saw him and I felt like that was deliberately done. 

'Sweetheart, do you trust me and my judgment on the matter?' As I spoke I pulled away from her to turn the water off and grab a towel wrapping her up in one first before I grabbed my own to dry myself off too. I watched in awe as she dried off and her breast jiggled as she did so. I had to turn my gaze away. Now was certainly not the time to be trying to bed my wife. I would be lying though if I said I didn't want to distract myself from everything that had happened these past few days.

Her and I both needed rest. She needed to eat first to take her medicine.  That was top priority not my raging lust for her. 'I do. I just. I don't know there's things I don't know that I need to know before I make my final judgement on the situation. All I know is that my husband has been sexually touched, kidnapped and tortured in a matter of days and there was nothing I could do to change the outcome besides not walking out of the bureau when Cat touched you through your slacks!'  

I could hear the frustration in her voice as she pulled on her panties and one of my t-shirts from college.  I watched her as she quickly left the bathroom to head into the kitchen. I quickly slid on my gray sweats and rushed after her. I didn't like the idea of her being alone when she was angry and not in a great state of mind. 

'I'm sorry.' I pulled her into me as she began to make herself toast. I placed a kiss on the junction between her neck and shoulder. 'I should have stopped the whole thing sooner. I just kept trying because I was certain if I did she'd slip up but she never did.' 

By now I knew how Y/N's mind worked. 'Spencer you didn't stop her because you didn't want to. Whether you understand your attraction to her or not. You've always wanted to sleep with her. You yourself told me so when we were just friends. Don't start lying to me now about things' She pulled away from me and took the toast and her glass of water to the couch.

I realized then that she had actually made me some toast as well. I turned around to grab my own glass of water and her medicine. I sat beside her and sighed. 'Eat first then take your medicine. If you are feeling up to it I'll tell you before we go to bed tonight. Everything you need to know and probably things you'd rather not hear but as my wife and my best friend you have the right to know everything.' 

She nodded as she bit into her food. Tears were silently streaming down her face already. I knew right now that it wasn't because of me. Not fully anyway she was just overwhelmed.  

We ate in silence. I handed her; her pills and she took them without complaint. If anything she seemed rather numb to everything around her.

'Maybe telling you should wait.' I said as I pulled her to me. 'Thank you for not fighting with me about taking your medicine.' I kissed her cheek. 'I'm proud of you and how well you've held yourself together while I was gone.' She wasn't codependent on me per say but praise was always something I gave her. Especially after mom started to pick fights with me about her medication.  Y/n was a walk in the park for me compared to her. She always felt bad that I needed to take care of her when she wasn't in her right state of mind. 

To be honest though I love taking care of her. She was perfectly capable of doing anything and everything on her own but she trusted me enough to shut her brain off for a bit and let me take the reins for a few hours or even days. Right at this moment was one of those times. It's not like I didn't have days and times like her where I shut my mind off as well because I did and she would baby me and look after me like I am her at this very moment. 

'I'd rather you tell me right now. I don't have the urge to fight or to do much of anything.' I nodded as I pulled her up with me and led her to the bed laying down with her and holding her from behind.

'First and foremost. I am in love with you with every fiber of my being. I don't ever want you to doubt that but I'll understand after I tell you everything if you do but I need you to always remember I will choose you without hesitation, without question.' She nodded after I was done. My fingers traced up and down her hand as I held her as close as possible. 

'I'll always be your best friend first. Then your wife. That was something I told you on our wedding day and I plan to stick by that choice. I only ask that you stay remaining honest with me. I can't stand not knowing what's going on in your mind. As long as we stay honest with one another I know that we can make it through anything.' She pulled my hand up to her lips and kissed it and I couldn't help but sigh in relief. She was more than I deserved and I don't think anyone would ever understand how much I didn't deserve her.

'I'm not sure if it was Ethan that hurt me. I know he was the one to kidnap me but other than that I don't believe it was him. He would never hurt someon-' I stopped myself as I was searching for the right words. I could tell she was waiting with baited breath. 'Ethan would never hurt me like that would most likely be the proper word to say.'

She nodded 'You're holding back love. Just say what needs to be said.  I can take it.'

I bit my lip and exhaled. 'Ethan wouldn't hurt me like that because he has been in love with me since college. We um.. he was- i-' I was struggling trying to form words. The past Ethan and I had together was a good one but he was also my first heartbreak. 

'He was your first love huh? It's okay Spence we all have a past. Some of us just don't stay close to those from it.' As she spoke she rolled over to face me with a soft smile on her lips. 'Keep going. It's okay.' I know all of her wanted to cup my face but she restrained herself and just made due fiddling with my wedding band on my finger. Which is something she always did when we were having a deep conversation. I knew as long as she was playing with mine and not her own that we were okay.

`We were friends for a long time before him and I became intimate with one another.  We always sorta stepped around the subject but one day after class he asked me out on a movie date. One thing led to another and I was in his room and we- we slept together.' She nodded again telling me to continue as her eyes stayed on her moving fingers. 

I made a face. It's not the fact that I didn't want to tell her it was just the fact that I didn't know how. 

'We dated all of college and then we separated when I joined the academy. I made it and he didn't.  We grew apart. One thing led to another and I caught him in a very intimate position with someone. He claimed that the other person involved was the one that started it. He didn't have time to react before I walked out.' 

I didn't dare look at her. I knew it was dumb of me to still be so hurt by what happened between him and I but I was. I trusted him deeply even to this day but I just couldn't let go of the way it looked like that wasn't their first kiss. No matter how many times he proved to me that it was.

Her hand moved to cup my face as she kissed away the small tears that I was shedding.

'I'm sorry he broke your heart Spencer.  You didn't deserve that.'

'After I left we never fully spoke again. I never gave him the time of day. Not fully.  We'd talk as friends and we'd talk for cases such as where Jj met Will but other than that I just shut anything to do with him out.'

I looked at her finally, my vision blurry with unshed tears and she looked at me and smiled softly at me. 'The truth is I was in love with him.  After him I fell in love with Maeve. Then I met you and it's like everything started making sense again.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't drawn to you originally because in some aspects you reminded me of him.  I think that was one of the reasons I first realized I was attracted to you.'

She pulled me in suddenly and kissed me sweetly on the lips.  'I love you Spencer. You and the things that make you, you now. We need to talk about Catherine but I'm getting very very sleepy and all I want from you right now is for you to let me drown in you and pretend for a small amount of time that these past few days haven't happened.' 

I pulled her into me and held her as she buried her face into my hair.  'I love you Mrs Reid more than you will ever be able to comprehend.'

With that we both fell asleep for the first time in 4 days. 

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