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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years ago

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Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Six)

AN- Two chapters in one night... hope you like them! Soft Holmes Brothers scene at the end because, especially after the Eurus situation, the boys truly do love and care for each other! Not proof read either of these yet so apologies if there are mistakes!

Word Count- 4405

The younger brother's eyes had flicked over you both only momentarily, the tiniest flick up of his lips at the side of his mouth that disappeared so quickly it could have been misinterpreted for a twitch.

"Ever the delight, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke, standing straighter, his chin poking up a little higher. Sherlock glanced over his posture and rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake don't start that Mycroft. Had I blamed you for everything I can assure you I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, don't make it so obvious that you care about my opinion of you- it's embarrassing for both of us." And with that he spun around and headed up the stairs to 221B, leaving the door to the flat wide open and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Well that was.."

"Easy? I told you that you shouldn't worry." You nudged Mycroft into the building before ascending the stairs.

"Sherlock Holmes, possibly the only man in the world to forgive somebody for nearly killing him in a heartbeat, but held a 6 month grudge when I took the last custard cream from the biscuit jar when I was 12.." Mycroft muttered, making his way into the flat and sitting beside you on the two seater sofa. John walked into the room from the kitchen shortly after, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand as he said his hellos.

"Figured I'd stick the kettle on when you said you were on your way.. Greg shouldn't be long now." He gave a smile, taking his place in his own armchair. "How have.." He glanced at Mycroft. "How have you been? He won't admit it, but Sherlock's been worried about you." Mycroft took a breath, sending a polite smile in the direction of the army doctor.

"Doctor Watson, I can assure you that I am fine and have been perfectly well looked after." His eyes flickered to you for a moment and then back to the doctor. "I presume the pair of you have held up well as I haven't heard any reports of gunfire towards the wall for a fair bit of time." John grinned, casting his eyes over to the smiley face on the wall that had thankfully been left alone.

"Good. Yeah, uh, things here have been.. good.. too." A blank stare matched with a more thoughtful raise of lips. ".. Very good, actually.."

"Catch." Sherlock came stalking into the room, a damp flannel thrown in Mycroft's general direction which he caught expertly, not allowing a single moist patch to appear on his clothing.

"And this is.."

"A flannel? Christ Mycroft has trauma affected your brain cells that much?" Sherlock quipped, flopping down into his armchair and lazily holding his hand out for his tea that was a mere few inches away from his fingers. John placed the mug in his hand without thought or argument, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's slightly before moving away. A biscuit soon followed, John holding out the digestive while Sherlock partly opened his lips, and shoving the food between them. It was your turn to raise your brow now, but you didn't say anything, instead just nudging Mycroft with your knee to make sure he had seen it too. Of course he had. "It's for your face, Y/N's lip balm is all round your mouth and it's making me feel a bit sick." John's eyes widened as he looked between the pair of you. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, Mycroft simply sweeping away the slightly pink balm from underneath his lip and folding the wet cloth back up to place on the side. At least he hadn't picked up that you did it on purpose. Before anybody else could speak, the sound of someone bounding up the stairs filled the flat.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms Hudson let me in an- what did I miss?" Greg stood breathless at the door, satchel slung over his shoulder and a carrier bag in his other hand, staring at the apparent awkward glances shared between half the room. You stood from the sofa and headed over towards him, swiftly wrapping your arms around him and placing a small kiss on his cheek to say hello. He made his way into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa closest to Mycroft, casting another look at everybody when his question still hadn't been answered.

"Nothing of importance. Mycroft and Y/N have obviously decided to stop moping around each other like lovesick teenagers and finally admitted they've been infatuated with each other for years.. Now you're all caught up, can we get these papers sorted out so I can be more productive with my time?" Sherlock huffed.

"Nothing of importance? Don't be an arse Sherlock, that's excellent news." Greg clapped Mycroft on his shoulder and shot you a toothy grin. "Declaration in the park was it? Might be a good enough reason for me to not punch you for closing off St James'.." John's eyes widened more, if it were possible.

"You just.. closed off St James'? Can you even do-" The look Mycroft shot John made him cut his sentence short. "Right, yeah. British Government." He nodded, standing to go fetch Greg a coffee (yourself and Mycroft still held a shared judgement against Greg and his hatred for tea) and continuing to ask questions about your newly confirmed relationship. Mycroft sat awkwardly through the encounter- briefly talking about his emotions in front of you was one thing, a whole flat full of people was entirely different- so you gave his knee a quick squeeze and answered for him. "Who bit the bullet then?" John sat down. "Christ I know I mistook the pair of you being together when I met you, so surely these two have been waiting longer for you to get on with it." Greg grinned, nodding in agreement at John's assumption. Sherlock, on the other hand, stay lying on his chair completely unphased by the conversation going on around him.

"To cut a long story short, we were watching telly, I said Stephen Fry was a bit sexy, Mycroft informed me that he used to get told he had a slight resemblance to him, I realised I'd stuck my foot in it and had a ramble.. Went from there. Nothing too exciting, sorry." You left out the parts where the night before you had handled a broken Mycroft to the shower, how he had gripped onto you, how you held him as you slept. You also left out the way he had allowed himself to cry, how you held him while he wept- and, for that, Mycroft was incredibly thankful. Sherlock probably knew though, somehow, in his Sherlock way of knowing things- but he was either too kind to announce it to the room, or didn't care enough to waste his breath.. probably the latter.

"That's disappointing. You've mentioned about fancying Stephen Fry for years, this could have happened ages ago." John teased.

"Nothing compared to Hugh Laurie though. I'm pretty certain that I'm straight but I'd let him-"

"The papers!!" Sherlock's shout cut Greg's ramble off, making the silver haired man jump and grab his satchel, handing out the reports in a way that reminded you of a teacher with test papers.

"Right, yeah. Sorry. Basically the proper forms aren't ready for another week or so so these are just a few basic questions- nothing too in depth yet since I wanted to give you guys time to... yeah just basic for now." Mycroft chose to read through all the questions before answering them, whereas Sherlock hastily scribbled his response to each question as he went along- the smaller details in the Holmes brothers' differences are always interesting to stumble upon. As he held the page in his hands, you carefully leant over to have a glance at the questions, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder and your cheek resting just against your fingers- blissfully unaware at the 2 sets of eyes openly staring at your movements, and the one set that watched from the side. Greg was right, in a way, the questions definitely weren't as overbearing as they could be- but that doesn't mean it was an easy task. The questions targeted Mycroft a lot more than it did John and Sherlock, asking things about scenarios and situations that had occured before they were taken, how long it had been since they had any contact with Eurus prior to that evening/ what they discussed, and a few basic questions about any incentives Eurus may have had, and anything that aided her into her plan. Of course the papers weren't labelled with the sister's name, they were generically printed and typically handed out to anybody involved in any kind of criminal behaviours, but that didn't make it seem any less like these were questions that targeted Mycroft in particular. Mycroft took a deep breath and laid the papers back onto the coffee table in front of him, pulling a pen out of his pocket and beginning to write. In this moment you had noticed the small bounce of his left leg, a movement only ever shown by him in times where he had a particularly stressful day at work, or a troubling encounter with his brother- it was a movement that let you know his brain was running a mile a minute and he felt a little more overwhelmed that usual. Without making a point of it, you move your right hand to rest on his mid thigh, allowing your thumb to rub small shapes into his leg to show your support.

Turning your gaze to the rest of the room, you noticed Greg's eyes on you, a grin on his face that practically stretched to his ears. You rolled your eyes at him, using your other hand to flip him off and smiled.

It had taken just under two hours in total for the boys to finish completely (well, an hour and twenty minutes for the Holmes siblings, an extra forty minutes for John whose brain simply didn't work as fast as theirs to convey the information on the paper). The time had passed fairly quickly, with yourself and Greg not wanting to disturb the silence and instead just drinking your hot drinks and stealing a couple of biscuits from the tray. You gave Mycroft's leg one last squeeze before sitting back against the sofa, stretching a little after finally getting out of that position.

"Thanks again for getting this done today." Greg spoke, taking the papers in and putting them in a plastic folder. "I'd better be off anyway, get these filed in." He stood, heading for the front door and tripping over the carrier bag he had brought in with him earlier. "Shit, yeah I almost forgot." He picked up the bag and handed it to you. "Got your coat, and I may have accidentally read your mind if you had been talking about Stephen and Hugh.." You dug through the bag and grinned as you pulled out the box at the bottom.

"You, Gregory Lestrade, are a bloody legend. God I could kiss you!" Your boxset of 'A Bit of Fry and Laurie' rested in your hands and you showed it to Mycroft, beaming at him. His lips raised at your reaction, showing a small glint in his eye, as you explained how now the pair of you would have to binge watch it since Mycroft had never got round to watching them before. Greg barked out a laugh.

"I wouldn't. I don't fancy being hunted by Mycroft's secret services." Mycroft let out a small laugh himself. And with that, Greg was gone and left the flat to the four of you once more.

***

You hadn't stayed at the flat long before you all made your way to Angelo's restaurant, even managing to convince Mycroft to just take a cab rather than bothering his chauffeur for a 5 minute journey.

"Ahhh Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson!" Angelo greeted, pulling the aforementioned men into an awkward half embrace, half headlock. "Back again so soon? I shall get your usual table set up, grab some candles. Anything for you!" The pair of men awkwardly shifted out of the hold and Sherlock offered a smile.

"Not today Angelo, we need a table for four if that suits your capacities here?" Sherlock peered round at the tables inside.

"Of course, a double date, very lovely to see! Come, come!" He led the four of you inside, you grinning at Mycroft at Angelo's casual mentionings of Sherlock and John's usual 'romantic' set up. You were all ushered inside of a small booth and handed menus, the benches were small but tolerable, your thigh just brushing against Mycroft's, him offering a shy smile at the close contact. "You stay here, I'll get to work on those candles. Just for you, Mr Holmes." Angelo spoke again, clapping Sherlock on his shoulder and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.

"He's.. uh.. a bit enthusiastic sometimes." John spoke, his cheeks burning a little at the memories of previous encounters here.

"Quite. Seems a pleasurable fellow." Came Mycroft's response, glancing over the menu. It had taken no time at all for the restaurant owner to appear back with a handful of small tealight candles in glass jars, and a single flower resting in a vase to lay on the table, taking everybody's orders and leaving once again. Then as the food turned up, Sherlock began to prod at the chips on his plate with his knife.

"What are you doing? Eat your bloody food, Sherlock." John quipped, elbowing the man to his side.

"Don't want it.. whoever decided that dessert was only customary after a meal? I'd much rather wait." John gave Sherlock a look and he spoke again. "Don't give me that look, this was your idea. Who even suggests 'late lunch' as a valid meal time? It's impractical. I didn't eat breakfast because we didn't get out of bed until well past the respected breakfast hour.." 'We'.. you didn't press. "So I had a sandwich at lunch which has ruined my appetite for this. Then I'll be hungry again later, but later than dinner time because of how late this lunch is." Sherlock childishly squashed his chip with his thumb. "It's just ridiculous.. they keep adding new names for new meals at new hours, I feel like we're becoming Bobbits."

"Hobbits, brother mine." Mycroft corrected, the faintest smile playing at the side of his mouth as Sherlock's words sounded alarmingly like the ones he had told you only this morning- it was nice when they just got along.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said Bobbits."

"Boys!" John warned, and you broke out into a small fit of giggles.

"We really can't take you anywhere, can we?" You chimed in. Sherlock just huffed, stabbing a chip and eating it as John gave him a stern look. It was quite sweet, actually, watching them be all domestic. By the time you'd finished your meals, yours and John's plates were clear, Sherlock's leaving only a few chips and a mouthful of burger as he found, after starting to eat the food, that he really enjoyed it and wanted more. Mycroft, on the other hand, had managed to leave little over half of his spaghetti bolognese, making comments about the pasta being far too rubbery, or the sauce being too thin, crossing the cutlery over in the centre and making a dismissive comment about making something to eat when he got home- you all knew he wouldn't.

Sherlock had practically jumped for joy when Angelo came out with a tray of chocolate fudge cake, offering slices around the table which you all, bar Mycroft, accepted happily.

"I shan't spoil my appetite for when I get home." Was his small excuse, raising a hand to prevent Angelo from spouting his claims that he had the best cake in London and that he must have a piece, and instead asking for a coffee. Without words being spoken, John cast his eyes over to you and you offered a small sad smile. Nobody had told John of Mycroft's past, but he was a doctor and always knew when signs were displayed. You had taken an extra fork from Angelo just in case and took a small bite with your own fork, unable to let out the (embarrassingly erotic) moan that had escaped you.

"Christ he wasn't lying, this is incredible." You praised, taking another small piece on the second fork. "Mycroft please give it a try." You offered your hand out towards him, the sliver of cake resting on the tip of the fork's prongs. He looked over at it, his mind telling him to give it a go, at the very least because it had been offered by you, but the image of himself in the mirror this morning came back to mind. He declined the offer and you sighed. Mycroft truly did love cake, and any sweet things, so it was heartbreaking for you to see him turning it away because of the thoughts that ran through his brain. Sherlock had already cleared his plate by this point and stood up abruptly, hoisting his coat back over his shoulders.

"I'm going to go out for a cigarette, care to join me Mycroft?" He had asked, walking past the table. Mycroft creased his eyebrows into a frown.

"Sherlock, the pact? I haven't smoked for three years."

"Neither have I, let's go." Sherlock spoke back quickly, hoisting his brother from the booth and taking the pair of them outside. You raised a brow at John who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I stopped questioning the pair of them and their motives a long time ago." He reasoned, the pair of you turning your heads to see the two Holmes boys outside resting against the restaurant's window.

"I try my best to.. they just still fascinate me." You spoke back, your eyes lingering on Mycroft a little longer before turning back to the table.

"So.. you and Mycroft. Going well?" John asked, his mouth raising in that side smile he often displayed when he was teasing somebody. "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen Mycroft Holmes smile in a non-threatening way, and over half of those were from since you walked into the flat earlier. I think I can only just about count on two hands times where he's pulled an expression that isn't stoic and emotionless."

"Yeah.. I didn't expect it to happen, if I'm completely honest with you. We've spent so many years just avoiding the subject, but after.. Eurus.. I don't know. It flicked something in Myc that made him regret not doing something about it sooner." John nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "You also don't give him enough credit. Everybody just assumes he's this 'iceman' persona, but it's all a front.. I've watched him laugh so hard that tears fall from his eyes, he's one of those people who throws their heads back and lets out an absolute belter of an infectious laugh. I've seen him get angry at the telly if I came over and some stupid reality show came on the telly.. He shouted at Kim Kardashian once on there for some reason or another. I've stayed up all night with him after he had gruelling days at work, him offering to do the same for me if I had a bad case and couldn't sleep. And then, very recently, I watched him cry." You continued on. "Mycroft Holmes is one of the most emotional, caring people I've ever known, he is just incredibly particular at who gets to see it. You're a doctor, John. You know how experiences in life can shape one's emotional stability, how it alters their mental health. Had you grown up without very many people being kind to you, you'd be scared to let somebody else in too." You finished.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out in a bad way.. I just meant.. It's nice. Seeing Mycroft acting like that, it's.. nice." He apologised. You waved it off. You knew John didn't mean any harm.

"Mycroft and I are old news anyway.. What about you and Sherlock? When did that surface?" You asked, beaming at the deep red John's face had become as he choked on a sip of his drink. "Oh come on, don't act like that. We've all been waiting for this one to happen since you moved in."

"I.. I don't know what you-" Glaring at him, he stopped himself. "Yeah fine, okay. When we got back to the flat that night we went into the front room and Sherlock lost it. I'd never seen him anything like it before, he just.. he just sobbed into a heap on the floor." He explained, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his glass trying to distract him from his eyes watering. "I didn't know what else to do, so I scooped him up and put him in his bed. He begged me to stay with him and I did. Then he apologised to me, for dragging me in all of that mess, for almost getting me killed and he just wouldn't stop apologising.. So I stole the stereotypical movie move and kissed him. Just kind of went from there. I think that night made us realise that beating around the bush all these years wasn't helping either of us, and the thought that we could have lost the other only a few hours beforehand woke us up." He coughed, his voice breaking slightly.

"God look at us.. All the people in the world and we've landed with the Holmes'" You grabbed John's hand from across the table and laughed. "Makes you feel quite special though, doesn't it? That, equally, there were all the people in the world and they chose us?" John grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Could never tell them that though, their egos would go through the bloody roof."

***

"They're talking about us." Sherlock mused, breathing in the London air.

"It seems people do little else." Mycroft returned, casting his glance to you smiling with John at the table.

"She really does like you. I've spent years deducing everything about her to make sure she wasn't a secret Russian spy sent with the motive to kill you." The younger spoke playfully. "You could have eaten the cake."

"Hmm?"

"The cake. I know you wanted it, but you're going back to how you used to be. Now that you're together, you're nervous." Sherlock's voice was nonchalant, simple observations, which didn't ease his older brother at all. "It's pointless. She's entirely infatuated. I thought the childish doe eyes disappeared after being attracted to somebody for a few weeks, but she still looks at you like I look at a triple homicide."

"Resulting to similes now?"

"You need to stop that too. Dismissing it whenever somebody is trying to be... kind... to you. That's just annoying and not a good defence mechanism for insecurities, like a mask made of clingfilm, it's too obvious." Mycroft didn't speak in turn and Sherlock huffed. "She worries for you, she seeks for you to be comfortable in trialling situations, her eyes do that little light up thing every time you open your bloody mouth. Since standing here she's looked over 3 times and smiled to herself seeing you stand here with me without us arguing. I caught her 4 times on the way to the cab from the flat looking at your arse and your legs in that damned suit. You don't have to worry about anything with her- the way she looks at you is so lovesick it makes me queasy."

"And you know this how, Sherlock? Or is this another one of your cruel schemes to embarrass me?"

"Because, Mycroft, it's the same way you've looked at her for as long as I can remember you knowing her. Jesus, Mycroft, I haven't seen you smile this much since we were children.. before we did everything that led us to believe we were any better than anybody else, that we deserved more than sentiment. And it's the same way I.. the same way I look at him." Sherlock's eyes now locked onto John.

"Always did say there would be a happy announcement between the pair of you. Good to see I'm correct once again." Mycroft mused. He remained stoic, but his brother's words were whirring in his brain, leaving him in a state of shock at the curly haired man even displaying this form of kindness towards him.

"You told me once that caring isn't an advantage. But these last few days, no matter how short it has been, have already led me to believe that caring is perhaps the greatest advantage of them all. And I strongly believe you feel the same way, no matter what bull you make up to argue against it." The pair of them watched through the window once more, the image of you and John laughing at whatever joke had been shared between you. "We both have wasted many years fighting against this, and I don't want you to screw yours up. Y/N will remain by your side and feel the same way towards you, whether you wear a bin bag, lose your job, put on weight- she's in it for the long haul. She's spent so many years pining after you that she deserves the best from you and to be happy. And you, brother mine, have been through enough with not good people; you deserve the happiness too." Sherlock trailed the last sentence. It's incredibly rare for them to show it, but Sherlock and Mycroft would always have a particularly close bond, they've been through too much together not to- and so times like this were precious to them. Mycroft simply let out a small cough, reaching his arm over to rest on his younger brother's shoulder to give it a quick squeeze, before patting it twice and letting his arm rest back by his side.

"Sentiment appears to be dwelling well on you." Mycroft spoke, heading back to the door of the restaurant to head inside, holding it open for his brother.

"As it is on you, brother. As it is on you."

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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A Shit-Ton Of Sugar

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer work up the nerve to ask each other out after he’s been coming into her café for the past year. Category: FLUFF Warnings: Implied smut, nothing else :) Word Count: 5.3k

Full Request: “...Congrats on 1k that’s so exciting! I was hoping to request barista!reader that works at the coffee shop that Spencer goes to every morning, and literally knowing his order by heart??? And maybe like finally working up the nerve to ask him out/give him her number? Preferably fluffy, but I don’t mind! Thank you!” — @bauhousewife

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

***

DAY 1

The first day he came into the shop, she felt like she couldn't breathe, which may have sounded like a cliché, but how else were you supposed to feel when a man like that walked in and just existed in the same space as you?

However, when she heard the bell ring, signaling someone coming into the tiny café, the fact that it was almost six-thirty in the morning was enough to make her grumpy. Whoever it was didn't even have the decency to wait a half hour until they officially opened? So, she turned around to face the stranger, ready to put on a fake smile and act like she didn't secretly want to strangle them, and then laid her eyes on probably the most beautiful human being she'd seen in a long time.

His eyebrows lifted, simultaneously expressing a greeting and an apology. "I—I'm sorry, I know you're not technically open for another half hour, but I'm in a rush on my way to work and I was wondering if I could just get a quick coffee to go?"

It was obvious that he tried to speak evenly, but between apologizing and being late to work, his words still came out rather fast. And suddenly her annoyance faded, quickly turning into a need to please him however she could.

"Oh! Oh, no worries, I can do that," she rushed out, scrambling to smooth out her apron. "What can I get you?"

A flash of relief flooded the man's eyes when he blinked, and his posture seemed just as relieved, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a breath. "Just a black coffee with lots of sugar is fine, thank you."

"No problem. I'll have that up in a minute. Size?"

"Large, please."

As she got to work, he waited as patiently as he could, looking around the small space.

It truly was what everyone would describe as "home-y". Everything was painted a pale yellow, with lavender and sage green accents in the form of window trim, picture frames, little knick-knacks, and art pieces. As the man scanned over the few tables, he found little centerpieces of old ceramic mugs with flowers painted on them, each one containing real (or maybe fake? he couldn't tell) flower arrangements.

He smiled to himself as he found everything so... comforting. And as his eyes finally made their way back to the barista behind the counter, he finally got a good look at her.

"This is... your place? You own it?"

The woman turned back to him briefly as she poured the coffee into a large to-go cup. "Oh, yeah. I just opened up a few months ago. We don't get too much business, but that's fine by me as long as it's enough to pay the bills."

At her laugh, he smiled a little wider. It was a nice sound, just as comforting and home-y as the place he stood in. "Well, i—it's really nice, congratulations. I'm glad things are working out for you."

She laughed again a little, and if he knew any better he would have swore she was blushing. "Thank you. Um... How much sugar did you say you wanted?"

It was his turn to blush now, the way she was looking at him completely doing something wicked to his insides. "O—oh, um... I guess I never really did specify, huh? Sorry about that, um... Just three tablespoons is fine."

It was clear that he really didn't want to be an inconvenience, even more so when he mumbled a, "Sorry," so soft that Y/N wasn't even sure she heard it. Even still, she put on her best smile—even as she was turned around—to make sure he knew that she wasn't annoyed with him at all.

Though, it wasn't hard to keep smiling when she couldn't think to do anything else around him. Just the thought of his face made her want to smile, like she had a choice in the matter.

She finished the coffee, putting on a lid and turning around to face him again. "Can I get your name?"

He paused for a moment, like he was shocked she'd even ask, but laughed to himself and swallowed before responding, two syllables that almost sent her into cardiac arrest. "Spencer."

Suits him... she thought as she wrote his name down on the cup, her handwriting a pretty mix of cursive and print. And seeing his name spelled out in the penmanship she always got complimented on growing up looked like it might have been the most satisfying black marker trail she'd ever seen. Almost as satisfying as his face...

She cleared her throat and slid the cup across the counter to him, hoping she wouldn't be too obvious about her little eye-candy crush when she spoke. "Three-fifty is your total."

Spencer grabbed a five dollar bill from his jacket pocket and held it out, his fingers just barely brushing hers when she took it from him. If not for the intense concentration she was immersed in, trying not to embarrass herself, she would have jumped at the contact. Instead, she quickly ducked her face behind the tall register to keep from him seeing the stupid grin she couldn't keep away as she opened the drawer and started counting change. When she handed it over, though, she set it on the counter, hoping she could avoid touching him again.

He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he scooped the change into his hand and immediately dropped it in the empty tip jar, a small smile on his face.

Just as Y/N said, "Thank you," Spencer grabbed his coffee and said the same, the both of them immediately going warm at the interaction. They let out a small laugh then, Y/N tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before she spoke again.

"Thank you for coming in," she said with a nod.

Spencer took a sip of his coffee and nodded back with a nod of his own. "A—and thank you for the excellent coffee."

Even after he left, she waited until he was across the street and completely out of sight before she let out a long, dramatic breath, immediately followed by a, "Holy shit."

And little did she know, it took everything within him not to keep looking back at the café as he left it—and her—behind.

DAY 5

She should have known it was too good to be true. In fact, if it weren't for the vivid physical and emotional reaction she'd had to seeing him lasting for days after it happened, she would have though she'd imagined the entire interaction. Spencer was quite literally the man of her dreams, if only because that's the one and only place he seemed to exist as of late.

Of course, it'd only been five days, and there was a possibility that he could come in again. Right?

Y/N shook away all thoughts of him as best as she could, focusing her attention to cleaning up the tables and closing for the night. The café was empty, the last customer having left no more than five minutes ago. But even as she cleaned tables, Y/N kept the sign on the door flipped to 'OPEN'— because the café closed for good at 10pm, and it was only 9:47. Though no one ever came in past 9:30, she figured it was better safe than sorry.

Soon enough, the small café started to smell more like lemon-scented surface cleaner than coffee, but Y/ didn't mind. In fact, as much as she loved the smell of coffee, after a long day it started to give her a little headache, one that instantly cleared once she started cleaning and closing up. It was calming, getting the place ready for the next day in the peace and quiet. She always turned half of the lights off so it wasn't as bright, a fact she was grateful for especially after the sun went down, but mostly because it made the place feel more atmospheric. Dim lighting during nightfall was probably Y/N's favorite feeling in the world.

At least, she thought it was.

She wasn't so sure anymore when the bell on the door rang and she turned around to see the man of her dreams, in all his tall, well-dressed, beautiful glory.

She froze instantly, the bottle of cleaner falling softly from her hands and dropping onto the table, making her jump.

"Oh, I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Spencer said quietly.

"N—no, it's... Um, it's fine," Y/N laughed, more embarrassed than anything. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to come in so late, we usually don't get anyone after 9:30."

"Yeah, I... I know it's late, I apologize, um... I just got back from work and I figured I'd stop by for a pick-me-up, i—if that's alright."

There he went again, acting like being in her presence was such an inconvenience for her, and it made her stomach do flip flops. There was no way he wasn't a figment of her imagination, right? He always showed up at the weirdest time, nervously asking for a cup of coffee like he wasn't supposed to be there.

Granted, this was only the second time it's happened, but the sentiment remained the same.

Either way, Y/N was happy to oblige.

"It's always alright. What can I get you this time?" She smoothed out her apron before sprinting behind the counter, turning on a lamp in the back that illuminated more of the kitchen.

"Oh, a black coffee is fine."

She couldn't help but laugh as she grabbed a to-go cup. "No mountains of sugar this time?"

To her surprise, he laughed back, and the sound made her feel warm. She wasn't looking at him because she was laser-focusing on the coffee making as to not make another embarrassment of herself, but she could see his smile in her head all the same. Hopefully the dimmer lighting wouldn't give her away, another stupid grin rising to her face.

"Mountains of sugar would be fantastic, actually," he said, his voice ever so warm and friendly, albeit soft. He was obviously tired, and if he was looking to stay awake, this coffee would definitely do the trick for a few hours.

"You sound like you had quite a long day," Y/N observed as she started brewing a new pot of coffee.

"Long week, more like... Work has been... a little rough."

The exhaustion threaded in his voice made her heart ache a little. "I'm sorry to hear that. Though, it sounds like you should be getting sleep instead of coffee."

When Spencer laughed this time, it was humorless. "Yeah, well, in my line of work sleep doesn't really come easily..."

Y/N glanced up at him then to see his head tilted upward as he stared at the ceiling. The dim lights of the café accentuated the peak of his nose and his jawline, and if not for the clear exhaustion highlighting his features, she would have taken more excitement in the fact that he was there, standing in front of her looking like a beautiful sculpture for free.

Though that was definitely an upside to him finally stopping by again, deep down she knew the reason he was there now wasn't because of her; He needed coffee, some semblance of comfort and probably normalcy after a shitty week. And Y/N was inclined to understand exactly how he felt in that regard.

"I'm sorry to hear that," is all she said on the subject. But she had an idea, hoping to brighten his day just a little, to bring another smile to his face. "Tell you what, I'll give you an extra coffee, no additional charge, and if you want, I'll even send you on your way with some of these extra muffins."

The half-worried, 'oh-shit-I'm-being-a-hassle' look on his face was almost familiar at this point, making Y/N laugh a little to herself.

"O—oh, Y/N, I couldn't do that, I—"

Ignoring the feeling she got when he said her name aloud, she stopped him, shook her head, and started pouring the freshly brewed coffee into two large to-go cups. "Really, Spencer, it's fine. I'll have to throw it all out otherwise, and this way it saves me the trouble. Trust me, you'd be doing me a favor."

"A—are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble..."

"I own the place," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And since I'm my own boss, I can confidently say that I won't get in trouble."

Though his smile wasn't as wide as she remembered, the sweetness and utter thankfulness she saw in it this time around was enough to call it a win. "Thank you... A—and again, I know it's late, I'm sorry for coming in—"

"Nonsense. You're welcome here any time," she reassured him with a smile almost as sweet as his coffee.

Maybe one day Spencer would stop apologizing, but as long as he kept returning to the café, Y/N didn't mind whether he did or not.

DAY 30

Y/N was feeling rather bold today. Not bold enough to actually ask him out or anything, but bold enough to have his order ready when he came in.

Over time she learned that Spencer's work schedule was pretty random, that he traveled a lot, therefore he probably wouldn't be in every day. But a few days ago, he mentioned he was scheduled for a week off, which rarely happened, and today marked the fifth day of his mini vacation— every single day prior, he stopped in at exactly 9:00am.

Taking the chance that he would be stopping in a fifth day in a row, Y/N was already making his usual coffee at 8:50.

Beside her, her friend and employee, Heather, snickered, finishing up with a customer and teasing Y/N with an evil grin. "You're so whipped."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she responded quietly, stirring in the mountains of sugar and setting the spoon down beside the cup.

"If you don't ask him out, Y/N, I swear... No way a man like that's gonna stay single forever, you gotta make your move."

"Who says I'm not going to?"

"Oh, so when you hand him his coffee today, you're going to give him your number and not just freeze and chicken out? You know, like you always do?"

She glared at Heather, but it only lasted for a split second before it turned into a look of pure pining and sadness. Pathetic... "Probably not..."

Heather patted Y/N on the shoulder. "It's alright, babe. When he comes in, just be yourself. He obviously likes you, enough to come in every day for your shitty coffee..."

The shit-eating grin on her friend's face was enough to make Y/N laugh again, and she shook her head, then turned back to put the lid on Spencer's cup. "Yeah, yeah... We'll see what happens. But I get what you're saying."

As Heather went off to clean some tables, Y/N wrote out his name on the cup, contemplating whether or not she should put her number next to it. What could be the harm in that, right? It was cute and charming as hell.

Just as she was about to write the first number down the chimes sounded above the door, and as some type of Pavlovian response, Y/N set down the marker and looked up to see if it was him. Instantly she berated herself for being so obvious, but by the look on Spencer's face when he approached, he didn't look phased in the slightest.

"Hey, Sugar," Y/N called out to him, sliding him the coffee and feeling butterflies swarm her stomach at the look on his face when he heard the nickname.

Then she realized she called him by a nickname...

Even though he still smiled and took the coffee, reaching into his pocket for money and clearly not phased in the least by her affectionate nickname for him, it still made her insides flare with a little embarrassment. And if she wasn't nervous about seeing him before, she most certainly was now that he was in front of her, smiling at her and being as kind and charming as ever with few words.

He was going to leave, grabbing the cup and turning, but halfway to the door, he turned back around, and when he spoke it sounded like he was as nervous as she was.

"Oh, um... I'm leaving to visit my mom this weekend, so, I just... Wanted to let you know... You know, so you don't waste your time and resources on my order..."

Though he was obviously looking out for her, Y/N still felt this overwhelming flood of foolishness, like he actually did find it strange that she memorized his order and made it for him so it would be ready on the dot when he got there. She figured, just for a moment, that it was his subtle way of telling her he thought she was taking things to a whole new level of weird.

"O—Oh, sure. Thanks for the heads up. Enjoy your weekend." She gave him her best smile, hoping her insecurity didn't bleed through.

But then he said, "You, too, Y/N," and smiled back, looking at her for a moment that lingered just a little too long before turning away. And before he actually walked out the door, he stopped and looked back at her again, giving a small wave as his face showed all signs of reluctance to leave.

She wasn't sure how long she stared at the empty doorway, but Heather's laugh broke her from the trance.

"You know you have nothing to worry about, right? He's definitely into you."

"You... You think?" she returned softly.

"I know. The next time he comes in, give him your number."

DAY 84

Turns out, Heather was completely wrong.

Y/N hadn't seen Spencer for weeks, and then the next time he came in, there was a girl with him. Y/N tried extra hard not to jump to conclusions— maybe she was just a friend? Or a sibling, or a co-worker... And besides, even if the girl was dating him, it's not like it would have been any of her business, right? She barely knew the guy, and though it hurt to have this stupid crush on him just to find out he had a girlfriend and she'd misread the entire situation, that's all it was. A crush.

A crush that, in the end, well... crushed her.

Because the girl was, in fact, his girlfriend. He didn't really introduce her at first, but the second day they came into the café together, they were holding hands. And the girl, short and pretty and adorning a beautiful mane of long, red hair, clung to his side, giving him the same doe eyes Y/N had been teased by Heather for giving him that day he'd left. Not to mention, when they ordered, the girl called him "Babe".

It was absolutely crushing.

Y/N didn't want to cry, because it was stupid for a grown woman to cry over some dude she barely knew, right? But that didn't stop the tears from welling as soon as said dude and his freaking girlfriend stepped out of the café, leaving her behind with an ache that she hadn't felt in ages.

She and Heather went out drinking that night, and after a few days of wallowing, Y/N promptly decided that Spencer and his stupid, beautiful face and his stupid, beautiful girlfriend could kiss her ass.

Of course, immediately after, she felt bad for thinking so negatively and just settled on staying out of their business.

But it didn't help that they came in almost every day for months. Even when Spencer was at work, therefore absent, his girlfriend was there. Jeannie, her name was. She had a regular order, too, one that Y/N couldn't help but dread making every morning but did anyway, even going so far as to have it ready for her when she came in. And Jeannie was incredibly nice, a fact which Y/N hated because it would have been way easier to deal with if she was awful. At least then, she could have maybe felt better about herself for being a nicer person, but she knew that wasn't fair.

This particular day, though, Spencer came in alone. And despite herself, the first thing Y/N said to him was, "Where's Jeannie?"

Maybe she should have known by the look on his face, but he sighed, returning her question with a simple, "Delaware."

Y/N started to make his usual order, keeping the conversation light even though she was inwardly sighing at he prospect of discussing his girlfriend's whereabouts. "What's she doing there?"

She wasn't looking at him, but the sadness in his voice stopped her in her tracks. "She's there with her husband."

"Uh... What?"

"Turns out she's been engaged for the past five years... They, uh... Took a break to see other people to really see if they wanted to get married, and I guess they... got married. Last week."

"Holy shit. Spencer, I... I don't know what to say, I'm... sorry..."

He didn't say anything, only giving a half-hearted smile that conveyed more sadness than anything. Y/N hated that someone had the audacity to make him feel that way... to use him like that without at the very least telling him her situation first, before getting into a relationship.

She finished his order, but before handing it to him, she reached for a blueberry muffin and wrapped it up. And as he took money out of his pocket, she sook her head and slid his things over across the counter. "Everything's on the house today."

"Y/N, you don't have t—"

"I insist. Jeannie did a stupid thing, and you deserve better than that... You deserve something good. And I know this is small and probably nothing, but I don't care."

A little of the sadness from his smile replaced itself with amusement, and Y/N decided she'd take it. He muttered a small, "Thank you," before grabbing his coffee, but before he took the muffin he looked her dead in the eye and deposited the five dollar bill from his other hand straight into the tip jar.

She sighed and shook her head at him.

But that only widened the smile on his face, most of the sadness gone. In fact, it looked more like a satisfied smirk as he grabbed the muffin and turned to leave.

Despite Spencer's refusal to not pay, Y/N found herself smiling as he left.

DAY 174

Thankfully there were no more girlfriends after that.

Well, okay, it wasn't fair of Y/N to say that, because if she wanted to take her shot she would have, and she couldn't get mad every time he had a new girlfriend.

But of course, that didn't mean she couldn't be relieved every time she saw him walk in alone.

This time it was Valentine's Day. The café was decorated with sparkly red garland and pink, red, and white hearts that dangled from the ceiling. All the flowers on the tables were replaced with roses and tealight candles, and currently, almost everyone was rushing to buy the chocolate-covered strawberry arrangements that Y/N made herself.

She was currently in the back, working on making more when Heather came rushing to the room, calling out her name.

A small panic started to sink in, because if Heather needed more supplies or more of the strawberry arrangements, she would have just sent back a ring of the bell on the doorway to the kitchen. But she almost knocked over said arrangements on her way in, and Y/N was worried that maybe something bad happened.

"Heather, what's wrong?" she asked hurriedly, smearing chocolate all over her apron.

"Nothing's wrong, but your boy is here. He's asking to see you!"

Her heart leapt out of her chest, and suddenly it was like the wind got knocked out of her. "S—Spencer?"

"Yes!" Heather half-squealed, reaching out to pull at Y/N's arm. "Go!"

"Wait! Wait, how... how do I look?"

"Take off the apron, pull down your shirt a little."

"Heather!"

"You asked! If he's here to ask you out, why not give him a little preview? Now c'mon, hand the apron over." She held her hand out, waiting for Y/N to take it off.

She grumbled as she did, suddenly more nervous than she'd ever been. Her hands shook as she untied the apron and threw it over to Heather. She looked down at the deep red v-neck she wore and sighed, pulling it down a little to give a better view of her cleavage. She fluffed her hair out, letting out a huge sigh and then shaking out her hands.

"You're hot, now go!" Heather exclaimed, practically pushing her out of the kitchen and into the bright café main room.

The moment Y/N stepped out, she saw him immediately. And as always, he looked absolutely perfect... In the last few months, he'd let his hair grow out a little, strands of it tucked behind his ear while most of it fell loose atop his head. Currently he was wearing a long coat, though she couldn't tell what was underneath. But she didn't need to know, really, because he could have showed up wearing a garbage bag and she still would have practically drooled at the sight of him.

Swallowing, Y/N made her way over to him with a smile, Heather following behind.

"Hi," she said, hoping her nerves wouldn't show through. "Heather said you asked for me?"

"U—uh, yeah. Hi, um... Sorry if you're busy, I just wanted to... stop by, say Happy Valentine's Day..."

Her heart beat faster than it ever had, and seeing him smile this nervously in her direction made it all the more endearing. "Oh, thank you," she said, giving him a small wave and then wondering why when she could have done literally anything else... Wink? Finger guns?—No, Y/N, what are you thinking? Just keep cool and talk to him like a normal person! "Do you... have any plans?"

Spencer stood still, seemingly starstruck by the question for a few, long, seconds before blinking and slightly shaking his head. "O—Oh, yeah, um... Some friends and I are going out for drinks later, that's all. Should be kinda boring, actually, not really my scene..."

"Oh... Boring's nice, though, sometimes. Personally all the huge Valentine's Day plans are kinda over-the-top anyway." She might as well have been wearing a sign on her forehead that said Lie! Lie! Lie!

He laughed, though, and Y/N's heart sunk. "Yeah, you're right... Um, I'll let you get back to work, then, I just wanted to stop in and say hi."

"Oh... You don't... want coffee or anything? I—I've got these chocolate-covered strawberry arrangements, too, if you want one. You know, 'cause why not?"

"Oh! Uh, sure. That... That sounds great."

His smile lit her insides on fire, ad she tried desperately not to stumble as she worked her way through the kitchen, making everything. He waited patiently by the side of the counter, trying equally as hard not to keep sneaking glances at her as she worked. Meanwhile the pink post-it note with his phone number in red ink burned in his pocket, his hands shaking as he struggled to think of a scenario in which he wouldn't fumble with it and completely make a fool of himself. Because now that he was there, in her presence, it was a lot harder to pretend like he had the confidence to actually ask her out.

And when she brought his order, she flashed that beautiful smile and he knew immediately that he would never be able to give her the post-it. Whether she knew it or not, she made him nervous, and if he was going to mess everything up, he certainly wasn't going to do it in a café full of people on Valentine's Day. He'd never recover.

So Spencer accepted the coffee and the small bouquet of fruit, trying his best not to drop it with shaky hands. "Thank you. How much?"

"For you, on the house," Y/N returned. "And please don't just put a 5 in the tip jar. I'm getting really tired of you doing that."

They both laughed, the memories of every time since the last time he'd done it sparking between them like lightning. Almost every time she insisted on giving him his coffee for free, he pulled a 5-dollar bill from his pocket and landed it in the jar, and every time she rolled her eyes at him and told him to get out.

"Well, I have to give you something," Spencer insisted, the paper in his pocket burning even hotter.

Likewise, Y/N felt like she was going to lose her balance again. Was he going to ask her out? Heaven forbid, would he kiss her? "What do you have in mind?"

The deep tone of her voice sent a chill through him, and in that moment it was now or never. So he set the coffee down on the counter and reached into his pocket. Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a raise of his eyebrows. "It's not what you think. I promise."

Somehow she didn't believe him.

But then he pulled out a hot pink piece of paper and slipped it in the tip jar instead, his eyes never leaving hers. "I really hope you empty the jar at the end of every day, otherwise this is going to be a little embarrassing."

"What... What is it?" she asked softly, though she already had an inkling of the answer.

And then he said something that made her heart soar. "I think you already know."

Sure enough, Y/N looked down and saw numbers written on the sheet of paper through the glass. She smiled, letting it burn heart-shaped holes into her eyes.

Spencer was gone when she looked back up, but the image of him was still seared into her brain.

DAY 366

They hadn't even made it out of the parking lot. And you'd think that after months of dating and going on dates he would have been used to how pretty she looked, but alas, yet again he couldn't wait, and now Spencer and Y/N were laying in the backseat of her car, praying no one had just seen what went down not twenty minutes ago.

"You know what, I think that has to be a record," she laughed, combing through his damp hair with her fingers. "I didn't even have my seatbelt on yet."

He laughed with her. "You know I'm impatient..."

"Yeah, and I also know that we're certainly not going to make those dinner reservations you worked so hard all month to get. All that hard work, for nothing!"

He scoffed, though the smirk on his face never faltered. "I hardly think it was for nothing... You are definitely something... Besides, I had to, because today is very special."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"Well... I don't know if you know this, but you and I met exactly one year ago today. And I've never been the same since."

Y/N looked up at him, eyes wide. "Has... Has it really been that long already?"

"Mhm... And it only seems like it hasn't been that long because we've only been technically dating for 192 days... But I wanted to celebrate anyway. Because no matter how long we've been dating, I've actually been enamored by you for 366 days. And counting."

Warmth flooded through her veins as she hugged him tighter to her, pressing a kiss to his jaw before nuzzling into his neck. "Oh, Sugar... I love you."

Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, thinking back to all the times he'd watched her pour a shit-ton of sugar into his coffee at her cute little café— the one he'd only ever stumbled on by accident because he was running late for work and needed a quick fix of caffeine. Turns out it had been the best accident he'd ever stumbled into.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

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#mercy 1k celebration #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #specer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff

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captain-barnes-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Mafioso

Summary: Mob boss Bucky Barnes enjoys his vacation in Colombia in more ways than one.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Latina

Warning: Language, mafia, maybe a little dark?, age gap, daddy kink (or should I say papi kink😏), unprotected sex. Smutttttt—18+

[one-shot with possibility of a second part...]

NOT PROOFREAD.

Word Count: 5.9k

The thick air under the Colombian night sky had made James Buchanan Barnes break out into a slight sweat. Trickles of perspiration stuck to his forehead and his perfectly combed hair was starting to falter under the South American hot breeze. There was something in the air that night, the air so warm it even made someone like him, someone of his stature, want to wear a pair of shorts and a tank top. He’d pushed aside those thoughts though and opted for a dark ensemble that for the first time in a long time didn’t include a suit. He put the choice on the weather, but knew it was a mere excuse to a much needed laxed relaxation--his muscular frame donned a fitted midnight blue polo and expensive black chinos. A pure gold chain with a thick round pendant hung from his neck. Despite the somewhat more relaxed clothing choice, it still spoke greatly for the person he was, for the power he bore in his hands. He was away from New York, away from his many enemies, yet despite that he couldn’t let his guard down even while in a beautiful place like Medellin, Colombia.

He was a mafioso. Leader of a renowned and feared mafia, James, or as many of his closest confidants called him Bucky, was powerful beyond measure. One of the most remarkable features of the feared man was the way his dark profession didn’t at all really relate to the way he looked. With sharp blue eyes and dull clementine lips, Bucky stood over six feet tall and oftentimes used his honeyed voice to get his way. It was a shrill contrast to the person he truly was with his enemies, or those he was not familiar with, a booming menace with toneless manners and gestures. A darkened soul.

More often than not, he would not be recognized or even thought to be a huge asset of organized crime. He was too handsome, too respectful and was a masked businessman to the public but a true bandit underneath. The way he looked and the way dressed so professionally and gallantly with perfectly tailored dark expensive suits and shiny black leather shoes was his greatest disguise. Unbeknownst to whoever that he carried a sharp blade and fully loaded gun with him at all times.

The work was tiresome, physically and emotionally draining. For a man who was so often toneless in the way he spoke of death, in the way he so often wished it and caused it on others, and emotionless with tragedies, he was still a person beneath all the darkness—all the guns and all the violence. Upon a tormenting year filled with too much bloodshed, he’d decided to take some much needed time for himself in a place where there’d been similar violence and crime to that which he was partially responsible for back in the states, but still felt like a secluded place away from absolutely everything. With his turf being monitored by those he trusted most, to some extent he felt free.

For Bucky, Colombia had felt like an excellent choice upon making it and planning the trip to the t a few weeks prior. It’d taken so long to arrange in order to leave things in place and to choose those who were best skilled for the arduous job that was keeping order to such an unbalanced thing that was the mafia. He’d lied about his whereabouts to many, not wanting to compromise everything he’d worked so hard for.

Now Bucky was in the city of Medellin—rich in culture, food and most importantly filled with women. It had barely been his first day and he’d already eyed far too many beautiful women with their dark features and alluring accents. It was nighttime, past 9 pm and he’d just taken a seat under an umbrella-ladden table with a few of his many bodyguards. They were brooding and menacing figures in dark attire. They were simply doing their job, but Bucky wished they’d take it down a notch especially in a bar where nobody knew who he was and what he stood for. Though he couldn’t say that to them because letting his guard down meant showing weakness and he couldn’t have that. Not now, not ever.

The vibrant graffiti art on the rustic building the restaurant and bar was situated at went so well with the multicolor knitted flag garland that stretched from one side to the other. The twinkling yellow lights illuminating the beautiful scene before him; people dancing, foreign and natives of the land. Hands joined at the hip, on the shoulders, bodies moving one way to the other and faces etched with a liberating kind of happiness. It was a fresh spectacle he hadn’t witnessed in far too long.

The country that had birthed magical realism and the rhythm and sound of cumbia was lit with shining bulbs and people whose bliss was of no comparison and it was slightly, just slightly, rubbing off on him when he found himself with a small smile. The people dancing before him were in their own little world as the unfamiliar music emanated moves from them that he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to replicate.

And then there was her. A gleaming light of a woman with tan skin that glowed underneath the superficial lighting. Her face seemed to be in such a deep concentration that didn’t seem to emanate from stress or from taking on a hard task, but at the simple task of dancing.

She was the epitome of magic in his eyes—a Colombian who bore beauty so devastating it had dried his mouth. The tan skin, dark flowing tresses that reached her lower back and dusky inviting eyes. A charmeuse emerald green dress with a blood orange floral print design clung effortlessly to her body and much to his pleasure, the frill hem of the dress ended just above the middle of her smooth thighs. The radiant energy that emanated from her was more than Bucky could even imagine; she was more than he could even have imagined. Not that he had before. Compared to all the women he’d encountered during the last few hours he’d been on the foreign soil she took all the medals with her. She took absolutely everything and he wasn’t even near her, hadn’t even touched her, or felt the delicate skin of her neck or even felt the glossy lips that he felt desperate to take a hold of.

Her hips were shaking side to side, tips of her toes translating the music that she so deeply felt. Her bones were burning with the sound of her native music, the sound of Cumbia. Se me perdió la Cadenita’s tune playing in the background as the movements of her hips followed every beat far too perfectly.

She was dancing alone unlike the many people that surrounded the large dancefloor who had their partners. Many times, She found herself in this bar in the famous little plaza of Medellin. Frequented by locals and non-locals alike, it was always a party. The ambiance was a delicacy, the drinks were great and the music never missed.

Today, for the first time ever, she found herself arriving at the bar alone due to her friend ditching her for last-minute plans with her boyfriend. She understood, but still wanted to come out on her own for a much needed distraction because work had been hectic and her personal life was even worse. Drinks and a good sweat-inducing dance always did the trick. Just this time she’d have to dance with herself.

Or maybe not.

Y/N felt heavy cerulean eyes burning holes on her back. She’d peeked once or twice and was well aware of the handsome, well-dressed man sitting amongst a group of menacing looking men whom she could tell were most likely white. He was too, and while she wasn’t particularly attracted to white men, he was something else. Had a little kick, a little spice and how did she even know that? She didn’t, but the man was in Colombia so she’d deduced that he had good taste so far. Blue eyes, she’d noticed, short dark tendrils neatly combed and a trimmed beard. It wasn’t until she’d gotten lost in her own thoughts that her eyes lost sight of the alluring man and a flick of disappointment shot through her.

With a scoff, all her movements had come to a halt and she made her way to the bar area to get herself yet another drink. She’d had two so far and already felt the alcohol contents doing their godforsaken job, alleviating the stress from her shoulders,soothing her wracking brain and letting her have a form of tranquil fun. She wasn’t the best drinker and knew that two more drinks and she’d probably have blurry vision and slurred speech. Consumed in her own thoughts, she suddenly heard the bartender ask what she wished to order.

“Un mojito de aguardiente.” She responded.

“Yo tambien.” Me too. A voice chimed next to her. Strong and laced with a very thick accent that had almost made the words incoherent to any ear. It was the polo-clad man who’d been gawking at her from his table just a mere few minutes ago and now he was standing right next to her. He was so close, the skin of their arms were brushing against each other; she thought of how he felt so warm.

“Good choice.” She commented, eyes trailing up to meet his. An abyssal of blazing blue with a glint of mischief and many things she could not make of stared back at her. The crinkles at the end of his eyes came to shape as he offered her a small nod and smile. He was slightly taken aback at the way the English words slipped past the plumpness of her lips, slightly thick but still more than understandable. Far better than his Spanish.

“We both ordered the same thing so I think we both have great taste.” Bucky with all his influence and overwhelming power was overcome with a yearning for the woman beside him and felt as if he’d become prey to her. But he knew far too well that despite the confidence she so easily oozed and the way she had him almost salivating, she was the victim here. It would never be him.

When the bartender came back with both drinks, Bucky had immediately placed a one hundred dollar bill on his hand, paying for both drinks despite her protest, and told him to keep the change. The man’s face beamed and proceeded to thank him profusely to which he waved him off with nonchalance because to him a bill of such value was simple pocket change.

“You didn’t have to pay for me, really.” The woman pleaded, thick brows furrowed as she fumbled to get money from her purse. Bucky was amused as he placed his hand on her arm trying to stop her movements and at the sudden touch, her head snapped to look at him. It was then when her lips were agape with wide brown eyes that he thought she looked so young, and concluded that she was most likely in her early 20s. He became even more curious, pining to know little details about her.

“It was nothing. Just tell me your name, that’ll be enough.”

It was nothing. At this, she became a little nervous. She couldn’t deny he was really easy on the eyes, even that was an understatement, he was as handsome as men came. With the crisp and costly clothes he wore along with the heavy gold chain that adorned his chest and not to mention the fact that he had just carelessly spent 100 dollars on two drinks that couldn’t have cost more than twenty. And the burly men clad in black who stood at the far back of the large bar just staring at them, at him, not letting him out of their sight as if their lives depended on the very man himself. It warned her that he was a man of money and even the way he carried himself spoke of the probable immense power he held.

With a voice that faltered, accent heavy she responded with her name.

“Y/N.” He tried it, weighed it on his tongue and savored it because it complemented her so well. Said it loud so she could hear him and she did, becoming just a tad flustered as she opened her mouth and closed it again. No sound coming out.

“Such a pretty name, darling.” His honeyed voice caused a flutter in her stomach, but she put it on the alcohol and not at the way the nickname sounded too good coming from him. She felt flushed, and at the sensation that her face had become hot she placed her drink down and put her cooled hands on her cheeks. It was embarrassing that she’d become such a mess in front of him and to try to distract him from this she asked for his name too.

“Bucky.” He replied.

“Never heard of that name before...maybe just because I’m from here, um but is it short for something?”

Just like she had paused earlier when he asked for her name, he became slightly agitated too. He took a large sip of the drink, the aguardiente was a tad powerful but the anise accents mixed with lemon and mint were comforting and gave way to a refreshing taste. He turned his face to look at her after a few seconds, having mulled over the meek possibility of the girl recognizing him, elbows propped on the wooden bar counter.

“It’s just a nickname.” He finally succumbed to the way her doe eyes waited for an answer, but he’d lied to her face. It was actually short for Buchanan. Instead he would give her his first name, a simple name. He wished so ardently that she’d be moaning it in no time.

“My name is James.”

“Oh.” Was all that came from the beauty beside him as she sipped her drink. She didn’t seem to hiss at the alcohol and he deduced that she probably drank it quite often.

“How old are you?” Bucky enquired after she’d grown silent, seemingly too interested in the drink that was more than halfway gone. She’d had such confidence earlier on the dance floor, with hips that weaved and swung to the rhythm of the music and her face expression had been so jaunty. Carefree and relaxed. Now in his presence she seemed quite shy. He wondered why she’d taken on this form now, he didn’t think of himself as being too pushy. At least not now because there was no need, she was compliant enough. He only showed that harsh edge when necessary.

“22.” She uttered. He’d been right, she was in her early 20s. God, she was so young and he was already pushing 40. The age should’ve had him walking away, but he wasn’t at the thought of being between her pretty thighs savoring her, tasting her. He wanted to teach her a few things only men his age knew. Taking one last sip of her drink before placing it on the counter. Her waves cascading down to her lower back slightly moved as she yet again twisted to gaze up at him with burnt sienna eyes. She was sensual without even meaning to and he felt his pants tightening.

She adjusted her feet, feeling a slight ache at standing with the bronze pumps and placed a hand on her hip. The plunging neckline of the dress was enticing him. Smooth skin peeking at the bright material that complemented her far too well as if it was made just for her. He himself had just finished his drink as well, placed it on the counter and moved to adjust his pants. The pressure was becoming uncomfortable. He’d moved his gaze away from her to look at his surroundings, a mere habit of his. It was then that her eyes trailed to his hands and that the sleek black object caught her eyes. She stared intently, feeling herself more agitated, and the black metal gleamed as if to alarm her. She let out a small gasp and averted her eyes to look anywhere else, but him

She was panicking at being in such close proximity to a deadly weapon. It was normal to carry a gun and sometimes it did seem as a necessity to ward off danger, but it didn’t ease the discomfort Y/N felt. She placed a hand on her chest while placing the other on the counter and taking a deep breath. She was having an internal battle, one side was chastising her for judging Bucky for the simple act of carrying a gun while the other side was pleading with her to get away.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He whispered so softly in her ear suddenly. Hot breath fanning on her side of her face and goosebumps arising on her skin. She stuttered, not even coming up with a coherent thing to say. His hand found its way to hers, gripping it, and bringing it up to place his lips on it. His eyes ablaze that she felt them burning holes on her forcing her to yet again meet them.

“Come on, darling.” He hummed, waiting for a response. Her hand was still entwined with his but now he was just holding it at his side, not letting go. His other hand had fallen to the waistline of his dark chinos, the sleek object coming to view. Her breath hitched and she felt as if she was speechless. Had he done that on purpose? To show her that he had the upper hand and that she had no choice but to say yes.

In the most twisted way the one thing she was holding onto was the deep rasp and slowness of his voice and the mere invitation to leave with him had allowed a current of heat creep to her stomach, a pooling sensation in between her legs. She yet again put it on the alcohol because had she been completely sober she would’ve escaped already.

She blinked at him, words continuing to fail her. Bucky was growing impatient at the girl before him who seemed to be fighting with herself. He knew she’d seen the pistol hidden inside the waistband of his pants, but he didn’t even want to hurt her. Not like that anyway.

“It’s a gun, just for protection. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He defended.

She remained quiet and at the sound of no response, he let go of her hand and took hold of her face with both his hands. Gripping it, he brought his lips to hers in a forceful kiss. Her lips tasted like lemon and alcohol, so warm and soft he already felt addicted. She didn’t respond at first, her dainty hands coming up to grab the bottom of his arms to try to let go but it was no use because Bucky was far stronger. When his teeth lightly took hold of her bottom lip, she inadvertently let out a small moan. It was her first reaction and it had him wanting more. Groaning, he pulled away. Eyes filled with so much lust he thought it would seep out of him.

“Shit, come on.” His head turned to his men, signaling them it was time to go. She was going to come with him, she had to. He wanted her to grip the sheets of his bed tonight, bury her head in his pillows and moan his name. He gripped her hand again, dragging the girl through the exit of the bar. She wasn’t fighting, just struggling behind him with her bronze pumps.

In seconds, she was inside a sleek car with the engine revving and Bucky cruising through the Medellin streets. From her quietness, posture and the way her dainty hands fiddled on her lap Bucky deduced that she either didn’t do this often or at all.

In a haze, Y/N wondered what he did for a living. He had an expensive rental, donned tailored clothing of fine quality and had bodyguards for protection. They were trailing behind him in different cars, one in front and one at the back. With one hand on the steering wheel, Bucky rubbed soft circles on her thigh with the other . Her skin was smooth and it dawned on him than in no less than 5 minutes he’d get to have the woman next to him at his disposal. Completely naked and at his mercy. At the thought, he hardened.

“Touch me.” He commanded, voice laced with a yearning need it felt as if it was eating him alive.

“What?” Y/N sputtered, brown eyes growing wide. She wasn’t inexperienced, but this was a man far older than she’d ever been with. He seemed to be nearing his 40s with his fluffy locks already showing signs of graying. And she was still slightly scared that on the other side of his hip was a gun.

“Stop thinking about it. I said it’s not to hurt you.” He sounded slightly peeved, voice sounding a bit rough. He’d caught her eyeing his hip where his gun was. She nodded while taking a deep breath. She knew perfectly well what he wanted, her hands on him. With shaky hands, she began to unzip his pants and though he had groaned at the small action he stopped her with his hand.

“Just through the pants, baby. We’re almost at the hotel.” She blinked, pressing her hands to the prominent bulge on his black chinos. She began palming him through the thick fabric, feeling the ridges of his erection and she shameless bit her lip at the feel, at how big he felt. Through long lashes, she ogled at the man before her. Ruggedly handsome beyond words with a strong build she knew she’d be left aching. Even though she still felt remnants of uncertainty, she mostly felt a deep gust of excitement building within her.

Bucky’s mouth was watering at the actions of the young girl beside him, her small hand touching him in the most sensual way. And it felt like a huge step forward with her hands on him, but he also felt her lingering gaze. It prompted him to remove his hand from her thigh and accelerate on the roads he was not even familiar with but the need to get to his hotel was one of his top priorities. It was silent for the most part besides a few jagged groans that emanated from his chest at the way she was still touching him. It almost pained him to not be buried inside her yet. God, he just knew she'd be tight and sweet.

When they did arrive at the towering hotel building, he’d leaned over and wrapped her up in a sweltering kiss before he had her hand in his hand waltzing through the lobby and into the elevator. The tension was thick and he’d managed to get his hands on her waist pulling her closer to him. He knew better than to try anything on the elevator especially not with his bodyguards in tow.

With his key card already in hand, once in front of his suite, he hastily swiped it and dragged her inside. With a sigh of relief he pushed her against the door, shutting it. In a change of roles, she was the one grabbing at the collar of his polo and pulling him in her to crash their lips together. It was sexy in the nastiest way possible--mouths engulfing each other, him biting her lips, sucking on them and her fitting her tongue inside his mouth. It was sloppy and brought a wave of satisfaction, it just wasn’t enough.

With greedy hands he groped her ass, massaging the roundness through the soft charmeuse material of her dress before he lifted it up through her body forcing them to pull away in order to fully remove the dress. Once it had come off, he threw it in a heap on the floor and savored the girl in front of him. Lips swollen, cheeks flushed and her hair already in disarray she looked just about ready to take him. He could have just come at the sight of her with the pretty white lace set she sported. So tiny it barely covered anything.

“Look at you baby. You look so pretty, ready to take me huh?” He’d lifted her into his arms ushering her to wrap her tanned legs around him while his hands held the fullness of her bottom. She hated that he was fully dressed. She wanted to feel him against her, wanted to see the toned muscles of his torso and touch the bulge she’d had her hands just a few minutes prior, just this time without the thick material of his chinos.

She nodded at his question as a small yes fled from her lips when he brought their lips together again in another needy kiss. This time, he maneuvered through the large hotel room and finally dropped her on his bed. He’d stayed on his feet, removing his shirt and revealing his taut and strong chest.

“You look so good, Bucky” She hadn’t meant for her English to sound so thick, not only laced with a deep onset of lust but with complete delight at the sight of him. She blushed at the way she’d sounded, but he loved it. Loved the way his name fell from her swollen lips.

With a bite of his lip, he watched as her expression went from that of need to one filled with fear as he removed the gun from the waistband of his pants. The dark metal in his hand the only thing her eyes were focused on. He was amused at the innocence she carried. Even in a country like Colombia where crime and death rates were one of the highest back in the day because of people like him, she’d managed to keep that angelic essence. He admired her refusal to let go of it.

“I told you this is only for protection, baby. The only thing that’s gonna hurt you is this dick.” He was half joking, gun still gripped in his hand he walked around the side of the bed to place it on the white nightstand. It seemed as if even that wasn’t enough for her so with a roll of his deep blue eyes, he decided it was best he placed it inside the nightstand drawer. Sure, he had better access and more maneuver to reach for it if it was on top, but he wanted to fuck her so bad and wanted her to enjoy it not have a gun be the reason she couldn’t get wet over him.

She swallowed, a little more calm as she saw the weapon safely stored inside the drawer and offered him a timid smile. He chuckled at her newfound expression and felt the same yearning bubble up again. Desperate to feel her skin on him, he unbuckled his pants in a haste and threw them carelessly on the floor. If he wasn’t so damn hard to the point it pained him, he would’ve had her remove the pants with her small hands. Another time, he thought.

He climbed on top of her, expectant doe eyes staring back at him when his face prodded down at her. She reached her soft hands to touch his face and used it to pull his face towards hers. Lips meeting in a desperate kiss as if starved of human touch; so eager, so needy. His hands didn’t waste time exploring her body. They wanted to be everywhere at once, her breasts, her thighs and the sweet place between her thighs. For the time being, he’d stopped at the swell of her breasts, pushing down the thin lace cups and rubbing her perky brown nipples slowly. Fingers trailing on the smoothness of her areolas had turned to kneading. His lips had parted from hers and trailed down to the sensitive skin of her neck and made sure to take the skin between his lips. Sucking and biting at the skin until blood had risen leaving behind deep purple marks that looked rather painful. She was a withering mess underneath him, soft little moans falling from her swollen lips and thighs widening.

She was so compliant especially when he’d patted her thigh and she’d opened up to him without a single word. His fingers had grasped at the thin lace material of her panties too roughly and it had ripped. Y/N yelped and he didn’t know what to make of her face expression whether it was anger or disappointment that had shown, but he promised her he’d buy her more. Expensive lace just for his pretty girl.

Without waiting for a response, 2 fingers had slowly delved into her cunt. Long fingers forming a slow and torturous rhythm that had her wanting more. If this was his way of making her talk then he was on right track as her little whines grew the more he kept the same pace

“Faster.” Y/N pleaded, hands grasping at the sheets below her. He felt himself gloat as her soft voice egged him on, finally voicing out her needs. He’d given in, fingers pumping in and out of her in briskness all while loving the little sinful moans that she gave out. Within seconds, his tongue had taken place of his fingers licking a long patch of her pretty pussy before he brought them back inside her. Her cunt was soaking wet with her juices and she was so damn sweet. His tongue was swirling against her clit, a move that had her body shuddering in the process. His fingers continued their pace inside her while his tongue drew long licks on her little petal, sucking and swirling that within seconds she’d gripped his hair tightly and came without warning. She’d come right on his fingers, room filling with the sound of her cries. When he withdrew his fingers, glistening and sticky with her unbelievably sweet nectar, he licked a long stripe against her before coming up for air. He looked wildly erotic—hair unruly and mouth wet with the fruits of her orgasm.

When Bucky climbed his way back on top of her, she was breathing so hard her chest was heaving up and down, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to her skin, meanwhile her eyes were fluttering in the aftermath of her orgasm.

“Open your mouth.” Bucky ordered, voice laced with desire as he stared at the mess of a girl. Her brown eyes fluttered open again and with a bite of her lip, she opened her lips wide for him. Almost immediately his fingers were inside her mouth. He wanted her to taste herself, to taste how delicious she was.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. You like it? Like the way you taste?” God, he sounded so sexy. She hadn’t expected him to be such a talker, but he was making her skin tingle with just the sound of his voice and with the things he spewed out during their sinful acts. She moaned with his fingers in her mouth and gave a slight shake of her head to let him know that yes, she tasted damn sweet but that she was sure he tasted even better. At this thought, she grabbed hold of his arm and pushed his fingers out. Taking charge for the first time that night, she pushed him on his back. His olive skin meeting the black silk of his sheets.

Mischievous burnt sienna eyes peered up at him as she removed his boxers causing the thick bulge to spring out. He was so big and thick in her hands, and she thought of how much discomfort the stretch would be just taking him.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, dainty hand wrapping around the thick shaft moving up and down. He was groaning above, husky and loud. It drove her hand to move faster against him, a line of precum already seeping from the swollen head. It was so enticing seeing the milky substance leaking from him that her head bowed and lips wrapped around the very tip. Tongue swirling against the tiny hole before she sucked it savoring the salty taste of him. She began to bob her head down the thickness of his cock, unable to take him all but making sure what she couldn’t take her hand would. He was just so damn big, she wanted to take him all but when he hit the back of her throat her eyes had watered and her throat hadn’t allowed more to fit in. But he seemed satisfied as his hand tangled itself in hair, urging her to keep the same momentum. Her red lips sucking him , coating him in her saliva. Almost too soon, he’d pulled her off him and pushed her on top of him. Swollen lips meeting in the middle, fervent and needy. She tasted like him but he didn’t care.

She wrapped her hand around his shaft again, pumping him once more before she lined up to her entrance. She pushed herself down slowly, taking him inside her warmth. It was an uncomfortable stretch, the dull ache clear on her face as she grimaced. She took her time, barely moving for a good few seconds before she felt his hands on her hips. Kneading the soft skin there, almost as if pleading for her to move. With the tips of her feet on both sides of him, she began a slow up and down movement. He watched as her pussy devoured his dick, disappearing inside her.

Her breathy moans, shaky feet and slow movements were driving him wild. He wanted to fuck her until she screamed. Bucky’s hips had began bucking up, fucking into her desperate to feel more of her tightness. It wasn’t long before he’d taken the reigns again and her body was shaking above him, helplessly taking the deep thrusts.

“Fuck, that’s my good girl. Your tight pussy can take this dick right, baby girl?”

“Si papi.” Bucky’s ears had perked up at the naughty words. She’d called him daddy in Spanish and it had his dick twitching inside her. He could just cum at the sound of that word.

“Shit, call me that again baby girl.” He pleaded, breathing loud as his thrusts continued to piston inside her before he came to a momentary pause. He pushed her body backwards, her back hitting the silk sheets with a small thud. He lined himself at her wet pussy and drove forward again, feeling her tightness engulf him.

“Fuck me papi. Fuck me hard.” She was driving him wild with her velvety voice and the vice grip her cunt had him in. He began with full rough thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling the large hotel room. Her breasts were bouncing before him, gaining the attention of his lips and his mouth wrapped around her nipple before he gazed at her neck. Ladened with purple marks from his mouth, he wrapped his large hand around it. He’d taken her aback, eyes rolling as her breathing was slightly restricted. He was still fucking her to the brink of insanity and with the added pressure on her neck, she felt the familiar heat building within her stomach, balling up in a crazed manner. He pushed himself inside her with need, wanting her to break apart in front of him so he could follow suit with his own pent up orgasm.

“Oh shit, I’m cumming.” She yelped, voice hoarse with his grip on her neck. She was spasming underneath, tears rolling down her reddened cheeks as she felt the wave of ecstasy shake through her. Her cunt had tightened around his dick, still moving inside her, but the constriction had unexpectedly gotten him to the edge too. He felt himself come with hot spurts inside her, a loud groan slipping past his lips. His stomach shuddered, heaving heavily. He felt as if she’d milked him of all he had.

She grimaced when he pushed himself from her and collapsed beside her. She was spent, sore limbs and a terrible ache between her thighs she knew she’d be spending the night. There was no way she’d make it home without falling asleep. She turned to look at him, and he did too , sharing drained smiles. Noticing her eyes fluttering close, he pecked her lips softly, a stark difference from the roughness of their previous acts.

“I’ll take you to buy new panties tomorrow.” Was the last thing he said, before she succumbed to sleep.

oooooof, this took me hours to write but I felt so inspired. I watched the devil all the time and I, Tonya again (the mustache really does it for me honestly, he’s so hot) and I was like lemme just write a mob bucky one-shot.

Any tips or comments, lemme know. Hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. can someone please tell me they’re as disgustingly obsessed with Lee Bodecker as I am, I’m literally burning inside. The little pouch and the PEPSI CUP. OMFGGGGG

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atlafan · 4 years ago

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Wrecked - One Shot

a/n: this is slightly inspired by the wilds because I watched that recently, but it’s in no way as messed up or sad. psychologist/therapist!Harry is detective Nikki Reese’s ex’s best friend. They end up on the same cruise, and the two end up going overboard due to a freak hurricane. What happens while they’re stranded? Well, you’ll have to read to find out! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful! I really want to know what you all think of this one!!! (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: a lot of angst, a little fluff, and some smut. TW: trauma/dealing with trauma (Nikki is an SVU detective, so some things of that nature are brought up, but not in graphic detail)

Words: 14K

Pairing: Harry x OC

It was supposed to be a cruise, a ten-day cruise around the Caribbean to help clear her head. Well, it was originally an engagement present to herself and her ex, but since they were now broken up, it was to help clear her head. Nikki never would have thought she would end up in this situation, and especially not with someone she hated just as much as her ex…his best friend. As she lays under the stars for yet another night, she can’t help but think back to how she got herself into this mess in the first place.

She was packed and ready to go, excited even. Nikki had never gone on a cruise before, and she was looking forward to meeting some new people. She was never one to be nervous to go to things alone, she knew how to take care of herself and keep herself safe. She had grown up as the mom friend, so her purse was always stalked with essentials. She had one of those ones that was like a little backpack.

Nikki got to the docks a little later than she was hoping, but there was nothing she could do about getting stuck in traffic. She gets out of her cab in her white sundress, large sunhat, and sunglasses, and rolls her suitcase up the pathway to the boat. There was a bit of a line, but she didn’t mind. For the next ten days, she had all the time in the world.

There was a large area for her to check in at, and get her room key. She was surprised she wouldn’t be able to do it over her phone, but she knew that once they set sail the WIFI may not be as strong in certain places. She brought a spare lanyard to stick it on and everything.

“Hello, Miss.” The woman at the table smiles.

“Hello, I’m Nicole Reese.” Nikki smile.

The woman nods and looks her up in the system. She takes out two room keys and hands them to Nikki, along with a couple of pamphlets that were full of activity options, and where the boat would be stopping.

“Here you are, Miss Reese. We hope you enjoy your stay with us. It’s going to be an excellent cruise. Your other party has already checked in.”

“My who?” Nikki’s heart stops.

“There’s two of you signed up for this suite. A nice gentleman checked in about twenty minutes ago.” She taps a few times on the keyboard. “A Mr. Harry Styles.” The woman smiles. “Has there been a mix up?”

“Nope.” Nikki swallows. “Everything’s fine.”

Nikki quickly makes her way to her room. The ship was pretty easy to navigate. She was enraged. Had Kyle sent Harry in his place? Why the fuck was Harry even there? Did he suddenly acquire time off from work? She scans her key card, and enters the suite.

“Jesus, fuck!” Harry shouts. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?!”

“Kyle sold me his ticket…he…he didn’t think you’d still go.” His face falls. “Why did you?”

“Because I paid for my own fucking ticket, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin my trip! I planned the god damn thing, I should get to enjoy it. You need to leave before the ship does.”

“Sorry, I paid to be here too, I’m staying.”

“Don’t be a prick, Harry.”

“M’not trying to be. I got the time off last minute, I need a vacation just like anyone else.”

“And you came here alone?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Thought it would be nice to meet some new people…apparently you thought the same. Unless…oh no, did Alex come with you?” He groans.

“No, she’s not with me.” Nikki rolls her eyes. She knew it was useless to argue with Harry. “That couch should be a pullout, you can sleep on it.”

“But I’ve already started to unpack in the bedroom…you know I have a bad back, Nikki, come on.” He follows her into the bedroom. “It’s a king sixed bed, we can just share. I’ll even make a pillow divider if that makes you more comfortable.”

“I am not sharing a bed with my ex fiance’s best friend!” She looks around. “It’s bad enough we have to share a fucking bathroom.”

“Look, if I thought this boat would have any extra room, I’d go ask for one, but the woman at the desk said it was a fully booked cruise.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I know this isn’t an ideal situation…but think of this way, it’s nice to know at least one person here, right?”

“Wrong.” She shakes her head. “I came here so I could have some time to just not be reminded of Kyle for one fucking second! Now with you here…I’m gonna be reminded of him every single fucking day.” She blinks away a few tears. “You probably think I’m being stupid since it’s been three whole months since we ended things, but-“

“I don’t think it’s stupid…you two were together for three years, that’s a long time to be with someone.”

Nikki nods, and then sighs heavily.

“I think they’re going to make the safety announcements soon. Uh, let’s back out to the main deck, yeah? We can figure all of the sleeping arrangements out later.”

“Fine.”

The two silently head up to the main deck and listen to all of the announcements on how to stay safe, and other things they might need to know. There were a lot of passengers all around them. Nikki was hoping to have some type o rebound while on this trip. How the fuck was she supposed to bring someone back to her room with Harry there? Maybe he was thinking the same thing. His cruise could have easily just been ruined like hers.

“Have you told him I’m here?” She asks him as they move towards the railing to watch the boat take off.

“No.” Harry says. “My phone’s on airplane mode, I’m trying to unplug while I’m here. It’s really none of his business, Nikki.”

“That, or you just don’t want him asking questions.” She scoffs.

“Either way, I haven’t told him, and I’m not going to, okay? You can relax.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because the suite I thought I was going to have to myself has been infiltrated by a six foot, curly headed, no good moron!”

“Hey! I’m not the one who cheated on you, okay?! Don’t take it out on me. Maybe you should have been a better partner to him and he wouldn’t have felt the need to stray.”

“Fuck you, Harry.” Nikki huffs, and walks away from him.

He knew he shouldn’t have said that, but she shouldn’t have called him a moron. That was the problem with Nikki, she thought she was smarter than everyone else, but you don’t get to become an SVU detective by being stupid. It wasn’t her fault that her work was a 24-hour job. She was lucky she even had the time off for this. All activities on the boat were all inclusive, and she wasn’t going to waste it. When she gets back to the room, she starts to unpack so she can freshen up. Harry comes in shortly after. She was just getting out of the bathroom.

“Nikki, look, I-“

“The pillow divider should be fine…I’d feel bad if you hurt your back.”

“Are you serious?”

“We’re both adults, think we can share a bed without it getting weird. You were right before…it’s good to know at least one other person.”

“Nikki, I’m sorry about what I said before.”

“Don’t be. You were absolutely right. I drove him to it.”

She knew how to play the game and keep the peace with someone. It would be easier to play nice with Harry so she could enjoy her trip than it would be to fight with him the entire time. And he was right about one thing, he wasn’t the one she was truly mad at. A little resentful maybe, but she wasn’t mad at Harry.

“Do you…wanna head down to the bar?” He asks her.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “That sounds good.”

Nikki doesn’t stay with Harry for long. She finds herself talking to a cute guy that was seated next to her. Harry didn’t mind because he was talking to some other folks as well. Nikki has dinner with the cute guy, and eventually goes back to his room with him. She has her fun and goes back to her own room. Harry was there, just getting out of the shower, his towel hanging low on her hips.

“Hi.” Nikki says, blushing. “Are you done in there?”

“Yeah, it’s all yours.”

“I…I talk in my sleep sometimes…and sometimes I…punch.”

“Punch?”

“Yeah, I have, like, bad dreams because of work.”

“Oh…well, thanks for the warning. I’m sorry that happens to you.”

“I’ve learned to live with it.” She grabs something to wear to bed before going into the bathroom. She takes a shower, and then comes out. She smirks when she sees the pillows in the middle of the bed. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do since I ruined your vacation.”

“You didn’t know I was coming.” She gets into the bed and turns the light off. “Just like how I didn’t know you were coming. I had a bad reaction before.” She sighs as she gets comfortable. “Nice bed.”

“Yeah, better than a hotel. Well…goodnight, Nik.”

“Night, Har.”

Harry was rustled awake around four in the morning. He looks over his shoulder and sees Nikki thrashing around. He sits up immediately and moves the pillows out of the way. She was drenched in sweat, so he rips the blankets back. She was gritting her teeth and kicking her legs.

“Nikki!” Harry grabs her shoulders to try to wake her up. “Nicole!” He straddles her hips to try to still her body. She was really strong. Her eyes burst open and she gasps for breath.

“What are you doing?!”

“You were having a bad dream!” He strokes her cheek, and moves her matted hair away from her face. Her breathing calms eventually and he gets off of her. “Do you want me to get you some water?”

“Please.” She sits up. Harry jumps out of bed and goes to fill up a glass. He comes back quickly and hands it to her, sitting on her side of the bed. She takes slow sips. “Thanks.”

“That looked pretty scary…do you remember what your dream was about?”

“Um, yeah, but I don’t want to scare you. I can’t really talk about cases.”

“If you need someone to talk to, I don’t-“

“It’s fine, Harry.” She snaps.

“Is…is this why you and Kyle never moved in together? Because you get these night terrors?”

“That…among other things. I don’t want to talk about him right now. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be.” He puts his hand on her leg, giving her a squeeze. “Why don’t I put the TV on, hm? We can just relax for a bit, and-“

“Harry, fuck, I don’t need you to be my shrink!”

“I’m not trying to be! Jesus, you cops all think seeing a therapist makes you weak, but it’s actually the strongest fucking thing you can do.” He huffs. “I’m turning the TV on so I can get back to sleep. I need the white noise.”

He grabs the remote off the dresser and turns the TV on. He flips around the stations until he finds MTV.

“MTV?” Nikki asks.

“They show music videos early in the morning. It’s what the whole fucking station was created for in the first place.” He puts the volume on low, and gets back into bed. Neither of them bother putting the pillow barriers back.

“You don’t understand the stigma. If we see psychologists…they think we can’t do our jobs properly.”

“So you just suffer in silence? Must be fucking terrifying to have nightmares so often.”

“It’s my problem, not yours.”

“But it doesn’t have to be a problem, there are a lot of things you can do to-“

“Harry, please just drop it.” She turns away from him, sinking back into the mattress, and pulling the blankets back onto herself. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Whatever.”

They barely speak for the next couple of days, which sucks because the first couple of days are just spent on the boat until they reach the Caribbean islands. Their first stop would be in Florida, and Nikki couldn’t wait to get off the boat and explore where they were getting off at.

“Hey, uh…do you think we could grab breakfast together this morning?” Harry asks her just as she was packing her bag for the day.

“Sure.” She sighs.

He nods, gets his own backpack together, and they head to the breakfast buffet. They both had started to make other friends, but Harry thought it might be nice to explore the Florida coast with her. Luckily, Nikki hadn’t had any more night terrors since that first night. Her head was really starting to feel clearer. They’re quiet at the table they choose to sit at. Harry sighs heavily as he sips his orange juice. He notices Nikki stuffing a few apples into her bag.

“What are you doing?” He asks her.

“We’re going to be out all day today, I wanted to make sure I had snacks.”

“You need three apples?”

“For someone else…if they need one.” She mutters. “I just like being prepared, I can’t help it.”

“Well, I suppose if I get hungry later, I’ll be thankful.”

“Oh, are we wandering around together today?” She raises her eyebrows, and takes a bite of her bagel.

“I was hoping so. I don’t like that we’ve barely spoken these last couple of days. We’re friends, Nikki, why can’t we act like it?”

“I stopped being friends with you the day I found out Kyle was fucking cheating on me.” She stands up and storms off. Harry groans, but follows her. It had gotten increasingly windy out, normal stormy morning in Florida. Although, it had started to drizzle. “Stop following me, Harry!”

“No!” He grabs her wrist. They were outside on one of the lower decks. Not many people were outside due to the weather. “I didn’t know, okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t know Kyle was cheating on you!”

“How could you not have known, you’re his fucking roommate! And apparently, it was going on for over six months!”

“He never brought her home! Any girl that he brought over was you, and any time he was gone for the night I just assumed he was with you…if I had known…” He steps closer to her. “I would have confronted him, and told him to cut it out. I would never condone something like that.”

“But you’re still friends with him! You just sat in your room while we were fighting!”

“I’ve been friends with him since uni! I was confused, I thought it’d be better to be on his side and keep the peace. I yelled at him afterwards. I told him he was an asshole for proposing to you while having someone else on the side. And I don’t live with him anymore, alright? I moved out a month ago, got my own place. We’re still friends, yeah, but I…I couldn’t look at him every day knowing what he did to you.” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “I always liked you, Nikki. From the second he started bringing you around, I thought he hit the jack pot, and he fucked it up.”

“He told me I drove him to it. That I wasn’t around enough, that I wasn’t giving him what he needed, but he didn’t feel like he could break it off because we already invested so much time. The fact that it was with his co-worker, someone I never even really trusted.” Nikki scoffs. “I’m glad we weren’t living together, sort of made things easier.” She looks down. “I can’t help that my job keeps me busy, and that I’m not always up to fucking my boyfriend after dealing with a sexual assault case.” She looks back up at him.

“I get it.” He sighs, and grips the railing. “Somedays I come home after a rough session with a patient…like, you know when it’s so bad that when you drive home in silence and go the speed limit?” She nods at him. “It sucks sometimes…being someone that makes other people’s lives easier.”

“Right, because telling a worried mother that her child was found dead and buried in the woods totally makes things easier.” She rolls her eyes.

“That mother gets closure at least. She knows where her kid was and what happened. It helps with the grieving process.” He looks at her again. “You know I work with a lot of victims and survivors, right? I’m not out prescribing anti-depressants to a bunch of rich fucks.”

“I guess I forgot about that.” She furrows her brows at him. “You really didn’t know he was cheating on me?”

“Nikki, I swear, I had no idea.”

Just as she was about to say something else, the wind had picked up. Everything happened really fast from there. Sirens had started to go off, a hurricane was whipping up the coast. It wasn’t supposed to, it was supposed to travel out east, but it didn’t. Harry and Nikki had grabbed onto one another, but it wasn’t enough to stay grounded. They both got flipped over the side of the boat. Nikki had just grabbed at one of the life boats that was attached to the side in time. She pulled the tag, it inflated, and they landed in the water. They were dragged under at first, trying desperately to hang onto the raft. Nikki wasn’t sure how much longer she could hang on for, though. Everything around her started to fade. All she could see was her hand grasping around the rope of the raft before everything black.

Nikki’s eyes fluttered open when she felt water splashing on her face. She sits up slowly when she realizes she was drifting along the shoreline. She stands up and tries to figure out her surroundings. She remembered the storm, but she could have been blown all the way to Cuba. She looks to her left and sees the orange raft. Her backpack was next to it, thank god. She stands up slowly and goes over to the raft to flip it over. She steps back when she sees Harry laying there.

“Fuck.” She breathes and kneels down next to him. She almost forgot he was swept away with her. She checks his pulse first, he’s alive. She starts performing CPR, just the chest compressions. Before long he’s coughing up water. “Oh, thank god.”

“What…what happened?” He sits up slowly.

“We got…blown off the boat, I think. There was a big storm that wasn’t properly forecasted. I wonder if anyone else got thrown off like we did.” She looks around, but doesn’t see anyone else. “I have no idea where we are.” She opens her backpack. Everything was wet, but still useful. “My phone’s fully charges and working.”

“How?”

“I have one of those waterproof cases.” She squints at it, raising it up. “No signal.” She digs through her bag and finds a small baggie.

“What’s that?”

“Personal hot spot.” She turns it on and connects her phone. “The signal’s weak, but it’s there.” She stands up and starts walking around. “Map app won’t work.” She groans. “Fuck, I just wanna know where we are!”

“Try calling the ship director, I bet they’re taking attendance for safety measures.”

“Do you happen to know what that number is?”

“No.”

“Well, neither do I. Let me call my partner. The WIFI calling should work.” She taps the number and puts the phone on speaker.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

“Dan! Thank god you answered.”

“Woah, Reese, what’s wrong?”

“There was a freak storm down in Florida…I got thrown off the boat. I just woke up ashore somewhere, but I have no idea where…could be an island off the coast, or we could be in another part of Florida.”

“Can you try sending me your location?”

“The map app won’t work…”

“But you might be able to send your location over iMessage. Are you alone?”

“No…a man named Harry Styles got thrown over with me. He’s a friend of Kyle’s.”

“Gross.”

“There are worse people to be stranded with.” She smirks at Harry.

“Are either of you hurt?”

“I’m a little achy, but nothing’s sprained or broken. Harry, are you alright?”

“Yeah, m’fine.” He says as he stands up.

“Alright, I’ve got your location…shit.”

“Dan.” She sighs. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Cuba.”

“How the fuck did we end up in Cuba?!” She shouts. “The ferry here would be an overnight trip for fuck sake.”

“Don’t know. I’m looking into it now and it looks like a pretty powerful hurricane swept you guys away. It’s like it chewed you up and spit you out. You’re lucky to be alive. I have the name of the cruise ship, since you left me the contact info, I’ll alert them right away. I’m sure they’re taking stock of who might be missing. I’ll have to get special clearance to get you out of there. It could take a few days. Do you have any supplies?”

“Yeah, I’ve got my mini water purifier, and a couple of bottles, some fruit and granola bars…basic essentials.”

“Okay, stay where you are, try to make a shelter in case more rain comes. Don’t use your phone at all unless I call you. I don’t want your battery running out. I’ll get you out of there, Nik.”

“Thank you, Dan. You’re amazing.”

“I’m sorry your vacation got ruined. I’m sure Captain will give you an extended leave.”

“I’m not worried about that right now. It’ll be dark in a few hours and we need to get to building a shelter like you said. Keep me updated.”

“Will do, stay safe.”

Nikki hangs up the phone and looks around.

“What are you looking for?”

“Drift wood. We can use some and the raft to make a little shelter to huddle under. We also need to make a fire to stay warm. If we’re going to be out here for a few days, we need to think smart.”

“What if there are wild animals running around, or-“

“Harry.” She puts her hands on his shoulders. “I know this is really scary, but you can’t freak out, okay? Did you ever read Hatchet growing up?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Okay, so, that little boy got stranded in a fucking forest in Canada…in winter! We’re at least on a warm beach. We can still wash up, and I have a mini water purifier. We’ll be okay. I just need you to not freak out. I’ll need your help.”

“Okay, but after we’re rescued you better let me freak out as much as I want.”

“Deal.” She sighs and goes to her backpack. “Here, put on some sunscreen.” She hands him the sprayable can.

“What are you, the fucking grandmother from Halloween Town? Is that a bottomless bag?” He chuckles as he sprays himself with the lotion.

“No, but I’m a detective that helps people that go missing, so I’ve learned some things along the way. I never leave my house without a stocked bag.”

The two work together to move the raft back so it wasn’t near the water. They’re able to find some wood sturdy enough to prop it up for a small shelter. Next, they work on making a fire. Luckily, Nikki’s lighter was still working. Harry was able to keep things going as she checked their supplies.

“We’ll have to ration a bit. Apples are high in carbs, so they should keep us full enough. I’ve got two bottles of water in here. Once we finish them we can use the purifier. I even have two travel toothbrushes and toothpaste in here.” She smiles. “I have deodorant too, but no soap, sorry. We’ll just have to use the salt water to keep us clean.” She furrows her brows as she keeps looking at everything. “I have granola bars as well. Ugh, thank god I had my period last week. I’d be pissed if I had to deal with that too.” She takes out a couple of tampons. “Besides, these’ll be great fire starters.”

“I guess things could be a lot worse.” He sighs and sits next to her once the fire is good to go. “We’ll probably have to take turns watching it, huh?”

“Most likely.” She starts laughing.

“What could possibly be funny?” He asks.

“Nothing, just…wouldn’t it be hilarious if we were just in some rich family’s backyard?” She looks behind them. “I know we’re not, but it would be funny.”

“Yeah.” He smirks. “Well, now that most of the excitement is over, I’m gonna go take a leak.”

“Hey, if you shit, make sure you dig a hole first and cover it. We don’t need to attract animals.”

“Not that I have to do that right now, but you don’t have toilet paper in there do you?”

“I have a packet of tissues, but they need to dry out a bit. Got pads too, those could work…but I may hog them since I have more areas to wipe than you do.”

“Fair enough. Suppose I could use some leaves if need be. I’ll be right back.” He disappears into a discrete area so he can wee, and then comes back to find her rubbing lotion onto her bare arms and legs.

“I’m really glad I wore shorts today and not a dress.” He sits down next to her. “Don’t worry about your luggage back on the ship, either, Dan will make sure everything will get back to us.” She takes out a gun from her bag.

“Holy shit.” He flinches.

“Relax, it’s a flare gun. I’m saving it to use for when they come for us. No use in using it now. I don’t really feel like getting thrown into a Cuban prison.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly on my bucket list.” Harry chuckles. “What did you do to the water bottles?”

“Oh, I used a marker to mark off how much we should drink at a time to conserve it.”

“God, if there was ever someone to get stranded with, I’m glad it’s you. You’ve thought of everything.”

“I’ve just been trained well.” She shrugs. “Wish I had some blankets or something. It’s gonna be shit sleeping on the sand.”

“We could lay our clothes out and sleep on those.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. We’d create more body heat if we’re almost naked.”

“Oh, so we’re cuddling?” He smirks.

“Not cuddling, surviving.” She corrects him. “We could drag out some of the larger leaves too. Make a pellet of sorts.” She stands up. “Come on, let’s go search for some.”

“Okay.” He watches as she grabs a lipstick out of her bag. “Freshening up?”

“It’s to mark the trees so we don’t get lost.” She deadpans, and he follows her into the unknown territory.

“Four days?!” Nikki shouts into her phone.

“I’m sorry, that was the quickest I could get clearance for a plane to Cuba.”

“But it’s a rescue mission, Dan!”

“Yeah, into a non U.S. territory, Nikki. I spoke with the cruise ship director, you were the only two unaccounted for. Your things are safe. I flew down to Florida today and gathered both of your things. I made sure to get you both a full refund on your tickets. I also contacted the people on your emergency contact lists so they’re informed. It’s going to be okay, you just need to survive on that beach. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Try to get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning if I get any new information.”

Nikki sighs heavily and lays back under the raft. Her and Harry had made a decent enough pellet with leaves so they could keep their clothes on.

“Four days we’re going to be stuck out here.” She shakes her head. “This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry lays back next to her.

“If I hadn’t stormed off from breakfast, we never would’ve been swept off the ship!”

“Hey,” he turns on his side to look at her better, “don’t do that. Neither of us had any idea a hurricane was coming. At least we know someone’s coming for us. So we’ll feel a little hungry and maybe we’ll get bored. Let’s just pretend we’re on a really remote vacation.” He smiles at her.

“I have to pee.” She stands up and finds a spot to do her business before joining him back on the ground. “Let’s try to get some sleep.” She rolls away from him.

“Didn’t you say we needed to keep each other warm?”

“Yeah…I…prefer to be the little spoon.” She smutters. Harry wraps his arm around her, and gets his leg between hers. “Hold on.” She sits up and takes her bra off under shirt, then she takes her shorts off. “Need something to put under my head…and I can’t sleep with this thing on.”

“Good idea.” Harry peels his shirt off and puts it under his own head. They get back into position. She feels warmer with his bare chest against her back. “Goodnight, Nik.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

The next morning, Harry wakes up alone. He sits up and gets his shirt back on. He squints towards the water and sees Nikki in her bra and underwear. She was about calf deep rinsing herself. She brushes her teeth and walks back towards their little campsite.

“Morning.” She says as she throws some wood on the fire. “Water’s warm. I was just cleaning off yesterday’s sunscreen.” She grabs the can and sprays her body, rubbing it in on certain spots. “What?” She noticed he was staring at her.

“N-nothing, uh, where’s that other toothbrush?”

“Here.” She tosses it to him, along with the toothpaste.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat and gets up. When he comes back, he sees that she’s put her other clothes back on. “So…how should we handle not dying today?”

“Think we need to treat it as a beach day, but in the shade. I don’t want us getting dehydrated.”

“I can’t sit around for four days, I’ll go bananas.” He sighs. “Can’t we go for a walk?”

“Sure, but we shouldn’t go too far.” She looks at her watch. “This’ll tell me when we hit a mile, how does that sound?”

“Works for me.” He shrugs. The two go for a walk. Nikki puts her phone and hotspot in her back pocket. “What’s your percentage at?”

“Eighty. I put it on airplane mode last night to conserve it. I know it won’t last a full four days, but I’m hoping Dan can get here sooner than that. Special clearance for a fucking rescue mission.” She scoffs. “This is ridiculous! Who’d you put as your emergency contact?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Harry.”

“It’s Kyle, alright?”

“Wow, so you can barely look at the guy, but you put him down for an emergency contact.”

“I’m British, my family lives in the U.K., he’s the only person close enough to me here that I could put down. Who was yours?”

“Alex.”

“She’s so annoying, I don’t know how you stand to be friends with her.”

“I happen to love her, so it seems like a you problem.”

“She’s never been nice to me.”

“It’s because she likes you and you don’t like her back, and she’s not great with dealing with it.”

“She likes me?!”

“Yeah, she thinks you’re cute.” Nikki shrugs. “Think you were still seeing Tina when I first introduced her to you, and then you broke up and didn’t make a move, she was sort of hurt, but to be fair she didn’t make a move either.”

“She’s pretty, but she’s not my type…sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Can’t help you like, you know? I still can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for a lawyer, especially with the business that I’m in.”

“You know, he used to talk about you all the time. He loved how were this strong, independent woman who was just…badass. He saw you as fearless, and he really liked that. We’re both needy guys…I think the busier you got, he just didn’t know what to do with himself. I personally would have tried to talk to you about it and not my colleague, but that’s just me.”

“He’s a brilliant lawyer, but he sure is a fucking moron. Has he…mentioned me at all since we broke up?”

“I know he felt like shit at first, but…th-the woman, Katie, moved in with him when I moved out…I’m sorry.”

“Well, they’ve been together nine months, perfectly acceptable amount of time to be together before moving in. I bet she never has nightmares.” She looks down at her watch. “We should turn around.” They do, and get back to walking towards their things.

“I know you were blindsided, but…I think things happen for a reason. You two weren’t supposed to get married. I…and this is just my inner psychologist speaking, but when I’d observe you two, you just never really seemed all that compatible. Especially as time went on. Your witty banter turned into hushed arguments. I think when two people get too comfortable, they’re too scared to break it off and start all over.”

“I wanted to marry him. He was the love of my life, Harry. And he…he ripped me to shreds. In my profession, it’s pretty male dominated, or there’s a ton of lesbians, which is fine, but…sometimes I don’t always feel like a woman first. Kyle…Kyle always made me feel like a woman first, and a detective second. It made me feel special.”

“Nik…he…he learned how to treat you like that because of me. He was constantly asking me for advice on how to deal with you.”

“How to deal with me?” They get back to their camp. “Didn’t realize I needed to be dealt with.” She huffs.

“See, that’s your problem right there. You’re extremely hot headed! Are you, like, the bad cop at work? Do you get into the suspect’s face, and scream at them?”

“No, I keep my cool at work. No one gives you information when you yell at them.”

“You’re constantly jumping to conclusions, Nikki. You look down on people when they can’t figure things out right away. He wanted to be with you, but he didn’t know how. So I helped him.”

“Right, are you done pointing out my flaws now?” She rolls her eyes.

“I’m not trying to do that. I just think-“

“That’s your problem. You never stop thinking. You never do. You’re a fucking wallflower, Harry. You come off cool with your tattoos and your nail polish and your rings, but underneath it all you’re a shy little boy who never speaks up when he should.”

“And you like to push people away so much that every word you spit stings.”

“I think we should not talk until it’s time to eat later.” She says, looking away from him.

“That’s your best idea yet.” He says, and storms off. She watches him peel his cloths off, stripping to his boxers, and dive into the water.

They share an apple in the midafternoon. She was able to cut it up with her swiss-army knife. They didn’t say anything to each other. Nikki and Harry used to have a decent enough friendship. He would often watch a movie with her and Kyle, or he’d come out to the bar to hang out with their other friends. They got know each other well for the most part. She hated feeling such disdain towards him, but right now he was the only punching bag in sight, and she was abusing him for it. Around three in the afternoon, she comes over to sit with him.

“You should put more sunscreen on your face.” She hands him the can. “I just reapplied.”

“Thanks.” He spritzes it into his hands and works it into his skin. “Look, about before…I’m sorry we keep getting into these heated debates. I truly think you deserve better than Kyle, and it kills me to see you still so hurt and hung up.”

“I’m just…grieving the loss of the last three years still. I’m sorry for flipping out so much.”

“You get a pass while we’re stuck here. It’s not easy to keep your cool while you’re stranded.” He nudges her and she chuckles. “Can we just call a truce for the time being?”

“Yeah, definitely.” She smiles at him. “What do you say we go with that beach vacation idea of yours, and build some sand castles?”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

The two get to work on building sand castles, and laughing when they knocked them over afterwards. It was good to exert a little energy so that they could sleep that night. Just like the night before, Harry cuddled Nikki with his bare chest pressed to her covered back. They didn’t get any updates from Dan that day other than an iMessage that things were still a go for a rescue plane to come in a couple of days.

Harry woke up in the middle of the night feeling cold. When he reached for Nikki, she’s not there. He sits up in a panic. He hasn’t really panicked yet since he woke up the other day because she told him to stay calm. Without her, he wasn’t sure how to stay calm in such a stressful situation. Yes, they knew people were coming for them, but it was still their job to survive on this unknown beach. His breathing slows when he sees her laying closer to the fire, staring up at the stars. He gets up, without grabbing his shirt to put back on, and goes to lay next to her.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack.” He says, turning his head in her direction.

“Sorry, I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright…just got a little cold is all.” She hums her response without looking at him. “Are you looking at the constellations?”

“Not necessarily.” She sighs. “The only time I’ve ever seen the sky this dark, like, without light pollution, was when I was twenty-one. I got to go to Israel for a birthright trip with my older sister. We camped out in the desert. We all stood in this big circle and preyed and reflected on where we were. I had never seen so many stars.” She turns to look at him now. “I was so overwhelmed that I cried. It was so beautiful.” She looks back up at the night sky. “What you said earlier, about things happening for a reason…I think you’re right. Maybe it wasn’t a cruise that I needed to clear my head…maybe it was getting stranded out here with zero distractions. That’s all the cruise was, a big distraction, but now…being out here…my head’s never been more clear.” She takes a deep breath. “I think I’m done mourning that relationship. The good was good, but the bad was bad…we weren’t right for each other, and I think I’m starting to really see that now. I…I’ll never forgive him for hurting me the way he did, but I want him to be happy, and if that other woman makes him happy and can give him the things that I couldn’t, then, well, good for him.”

“That’s a very adult way of looking at things.” Harry smirks. “It’s amazing what a little unplugging can do for people? A lot of the time I tell my patients to think of a calm, happy place when I have them close their eyes. Nine times out of ten guess what they say their happy place is?”

“Where?”

“The beach. And not at a resort or anything fancy, they just see soft sand, warm water, and a place for them to just sit and breathe for a while. It’s good you were able to come to those conclusions on your own, Nikki.”

“You helped me get there.” She looks at him with a smile. “Guess I respond better to tough love than anything else.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many stars either, it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.” She sighs. Her lips start to quiver, and she sits up.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry sits up as well and gently rubs her back as she starts to cry. “You know, other than the fact that we’re stuck on an underdeveloped area of Cuba.”

Nikki chokes out a laugh, and turns to look at him.

“It’s just…I’m so lonely, Harry.” She sniffles as more tears pour from her eyes. “I love my job, and I know I have this tough exterior, but…it’s so fucking hard to meet people in my line of work. I feel like I just latched on to Kyle…and when we ended things I was like what the fuck am I gonna do now, you know?”

“You’ve got Alex…and your partner, Dan…”

“As close as I am with him, I’d never date my partner. Things get too complicated that way. Alex is my best friend, she’s not someone I can be in a relationship with. And I can’t…talk to her about everything. With Kyle, like, he understood where I was coming from sometimes with my cases.”

“You know you can always talk to me. I was sort of…sad that we lost touch when you and Kyle broke up.”

“I hated you by association.”

“Clearly.” He keeps his arm securely around her shoulders. “You and I aren’t so different, Nik. And…sometimes I need someone to talk to too. I listen and help with such heavy shit all day, it’s hard to shake it off and pretend like everything’s normal. I’d like for us to be friends again.”

“I’d like that too.” She wipes her tears and gives him a soft smile. “I’ve missed hanging out with you, you were always so much fun when we’d go grab drinks.”

“Wish we had some booze here. It would certainly take the edge off.”

“Wait!” She stands up. “I think I have a few nips in my bag! I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want us to get dehydrated while we were out in the sun. Hold on.” Nikki quickly goes over to her bag and pulls out two nips, and then goes back over to Harry. “Grapefruit vodka, it’s really good.”

“Anything sounds good right now, honestly.”

They clink the little plastic bottles, open them, and down them. Normally something of this size wouldn’t have an effect on either of them, it was just a double shot. However, with little food over the last couple of days, the alcohol went straight to their heads.

“I don’t know why people hate on grapefruit so much. It’s sweet and it’s got a kick.” Harry says.

“It’s the vodka.” Nikki says. “Vodka makes everything better.”

“Scientifically speaking, it doesn’t. It’s a depressant, and a poison, so technically-“ In an instant Nikki was straddling Harry and putting a hand over his mouth.

“Hey, shrinky-dink, shut up, yeah?” He nods his head yes. “Good.” She gets off of him and sighs as she lays back into the sand.

“Did you ever own shrinky dinks?” He asks, hugging his knees to his chest.

“What?”

“You know, those little plastic things you’d bake in the toaster, and then they’d harden into these little keychain things.”

“Oh my god! I remember the commercials for those! I always it, but my parents never bought stuff off infomercials.”

“We saw it in the store one day. I whined until my mum threw the box in the cart. Even though she was mad at me for behaving poorly, we had a blast making them together.” A few tears come to his eyes. “The first thing I’m gonna do when we get back is call her. She’s probably worried sick.” He wipes under his eyes.

“You know what I’m gonna do?”

“What?”

“Get a Big Mac from McDonald’s.” She looks up at him and they both start laughing. “Yup, gonna stuff my fucking face. Might sue the cruise company too, just to see if I can make a cool million and never have to work another day in my life.”

“Now that’s a brilliant idea. Might have to join in on that. Might just offer us a settlement so we don’t have to go through the whole court process.”

“That would be too easy. They’d say something like, ‘the hurricane was just as much of a surprise to us. We put on sirens’.” She scoffs.

“I think the sirens are the last thing I remember hearing before you woke me up. Can’t believe I only have a few scrapes and bruises.”

“I know, we’re lucky the ropes from the raft didn’t get stuck around our necks.” She sits up.

“Extremely lucky…in all sorts of ways.” He puts his hand overs and gives it a squeeze. “Come on, we should try to get back to sleep. We need to look for more wood tomorrow for the fire.”

“Yeah, alright.” She sighs and they both stand up. They head back over to the shelter and lay down. “Do you think…would it be alright if I just rest my head on your chest?”

“Sure, makes no difference to me.”

She gets comfortable, resting her head on his bare pec, her arm string across his stomach, and a leg over one of his. He puts his arm around her, keeping her close. They don’t say anything else to each other, they both just drift off, succumbing to sleep.

“God, I feel disgusting.” Nikki groans the next morning. “I wish I had a razor in here.” She mutters as she rummages through her bag.

“You’re telling me, I usually like a clean shave because my facial hair grows in all patchy.”

“Actually, a little scruff suits you.” She says without looking at him. “I wouldn’t want you with a full beard, but just a little something looks nice.”

“Nikki.” Harry chuckles. “You don’t want me at all.” Her head whips in his direction and he blushes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“N-nothing.” He clears his throat. “Uh, why do you think you need a razor anyways?”

“Because my pit hair is starting to grow out, and when it grows out I sweat more, and if I sweat more I’ll stink more.” She says in a quick breath. “Also, my leg hair is starting to get prickly, and I have sensitive skin so it itches like crazy.”

“You could try rubbing your legs with some of the mud and salt water…that might help.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” She sighs. “Think I’m just gonna go for a swim and clean up that way. You know how I said I was going to get a Big Mac?” Harry nods yes. “That’s now the second thing I’m going to do.”

“What’s the first?”

“Shower, in fact, washing my hair is the first on the list.” She takes out of the elastic and shakes it out. “it’s all greasy, but the salt water’s been good for it, I think.” She peels off her shirt and wiggles out of her shorts before walking down to the water.

Harry hadn’t been able to relieve himself in almost a week, and it was really starting to get to him. It especially wasn’t easy because he was around someone like Nikki. Harry always thought she was beautiful, and he thought Kyle was the luckiest bastard for scooping her up. When he saw her come into the suite that morning, he hid how overjoyed he felt. He hated fighting with her, but he was grateful for any interaction he was having with her. He missed her. In all honesty, his plan was to reach out to her another month or so from now, reconnect, tell her how he felt about her…how he really felt about her. It took him nearly a year to figure out why he liked being her friend so much, and why he was so happy for Kyle. It was because he liked Nikki…as more than a friend. But he wasn’t the type of guy to make a move on his best friend’s girl. He wanted to throttle Kyle. Harry truly had no idea he was treating on Nikki. He would have knocked him off his ass and gotten him to either stop, or just break up with Nikki before anyone had to get hurt.

He decides to get up and join her for a swim. He takes his shorts off and goes down to the water in his boxers. He dives in to submerge his body, it was incredibly refreshing. He stands up so he’s only about calf deep. They both agreed not to go too far in because there could be sharks or other predators.

“Think I’m about done with this underwear.” She says to him. “Might go commando for the rest of the time we’re here.”

“You could walk around naked for all I care.” He smirks, and she splashes him. “Oi, I was kidding!”

“Mhm, sure.” She rolls here eyes. “I’m gonna go dry off, and then we can look for more wood.”

“Okay.” He nods and watches her walk out of the water.

They’re able to find more wood later on to keep the fire going. They split a granola bar, and they both sigh once it’s gone. The sun was setting, and Nikki couldn’t help but take a picture of how beautiful it was. Just when she was going to put it down, Dan calls her.

“Hey, Dan.”

“Hey! Great news, I’ll be on the rescue plane first thing in the morning. How are you two holding up?”

“We’re…okay. Mostly just hungry. Bring lots of food.”

“I’ll try. The medic may not want to overwhelm your stomachs. We’re gonna bring you both right to the hospital to get checked out. Your bills are going to be paid by the cruise ship company. If I were you I’d threaten to sue to get some money out of them. They’ve been able to keep this story under wraps and I’m sure they’d like to keep it that way.”

“Okay. I have a flare gun, what time should I set it off so you can find us?”

“Try for around 7AM, we should be close by then.”

“Sounds good, thank you.” She hangs up and looks at Harry. “They’re coming for us bright and early.” She nearly squeals.

“That’s incredible news.” He sighs with relief. “Think we could eat some more food?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s like, you know how the night before it snows you don’t do your homework, but you don’t end up getting a snow day so you’re fucked?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’d rather not eat the food just in case something happens.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs. “Think I’m just bored anyways.” She sits down next to him.

“Me too. We’ve already played twenty questions, never have I ever…I think if we play another game I’ll go bananas.”

“We could have ourselves a wank.”

“Very funny.”

“M’serious, Nik.” He looks at her. “I think I’ll go bananas if I don’t come soon.”

“Harry, it’s only been a few days…”

“Yeah, but I haven’t done anything in over a week because I thought it would be disrespectful while we were sharing a room on the boat.”

“Alright, so go behind a tree and jerk it.” She shrugs.

“Yeah, I could do that…or…”

“Harry Styles.” She gasps, a smile growing on her face. “Are you seriously suggesting that I stick my hand down your sandy pants, and give you a hand job?”

“I’d be getting you off at the same time so-“

“Are you kidding?! I’m all stubbly down there, and I probably smell disgusting, and-“

Just as she had done to him the night before, he was pinning her down and putt his hand over her mouth.

“Nikki, if you really don’t want to, I’ll drop it and go behind a bush and handle things myself, but I have no problem with a little bit of hair, and I’m just offering to finger you, my face doesn’t need to go anywhere near you if you don’t want it to.” He lifts his hand away from her mouth, but continues to hover over her.

“It’s just…we’re friends.”

“Friends help each other out, don’t they?” She nods her head yes. “Do you want to? Don’t let me pressure you.”

“I…I want to, I mean…getting off doesn’t sound terrible. And it could be a good time killer.”

“Right.” He smirks and moves to lay on the ground next to her. She rolls onto her side and so does he. “Can I…touch your chest?”

“Yeah, I’ll take my bra off, but I’m leaving my shirt on. I just…I feel gross, you know?”

“Whatever makes you more comfortable.” Once she’s situated, she unbuttons her shorts. “I went commando today…put my underwear in the fire.”

Harry nods and undoes his shorts. He was a little nervous.

“Can I kiss you?”

“No.”

“We’ve been brushing our teeth, what’s the big deal?”

“Kissing would make it more intimate, Harry. I don’t want this to be some big, emotional thing.”

He furrows his brows, but chooses not to speak. Instead, he reaches his hand inside her shorts and starts to rub at her folds. Her breath hitches, but she reaches him. Her hand slides inside his boxers and she starts to pump his hardening cock.

“You’re already hard.” She breathes. Their faces were only an inch or so apart.

“M’turned on.” He grunts as her thumb swipes over his tip. He feels her getting wet, and he drags it up to her clit. She bites her bottom lip and twists her hand around his cock. He slides his middle finger inside of her and her mouth falls open. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“Haven’t done this in a while.” Her hips buck in his direction. “Feels nice. Use two.”

“Are you, ngh, sure?”

“Yes.”

He slides a second finger inside of her and uses his thumb on her clit, applying just enough pressure as he presses circles into it. A moan leaves her lips, and for the first time he was hearing because of something he was doing, and not through the walls of his old apartment. It just makes him work harder, curling his fingers up inside her.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” She mewls. “Don’t stop.”

He presses his forehead to hers and pinches his eyes closed. He was getting closer. His cock was slick with precoma, and she was pumping him perfectly.

“Shit, Nikki.” He moans, and it makes her own closed eyes pop open. She had never really heard a guy genuinely moan before, and she thought it was hot, really, really hot. His fingers were petting against her g-spot in just the right way. He opens his eyes and sees her already looking at him. “Is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah, just…say my name like that again.” Her hips were grinding against his hand. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Me too.” He pants. “Fuck, Nikki.” He moans again. He bites his bottom lip to ground himself.

“Oh my god, Harry!” She cries out as she comes around his fingers, and she feels warmth against her hand. He had also come to his release. He slowly takes his hand away, and she does the same. “Shit.” She breathes and sits up. “I, uh, I need to go pee, excuse me.”

He watches her grab some tissues, and she goes to her designated bathroom area. Harry lays back under the raft and tries to catch his breath. He could clean himself up later.

The next morning went by painfully slow. They were up at sunrise in anticipation of the plane coming for them. Nikki’s phone and hotspot had finally died. They made sure to put the fire out safely, and once 7AM hit Nikki shot the flare gun. About ten minutes after that a small plane flew over them, and a rope ladder was thrown out.

“It’s here, we’re saved!” Nikki exclaims, throwing her arms around Harry. He holds her tight for a moment. “I’ll climb up first, okay?”

Harry nods and watches as she starts moving up the ladder, her backpack slung on her back. He climbs up after her, and they’re both pulled inside. Nikki falls into Dan’s arms.

“Thought I was gonna have to go through getting a new partner.” He mutters into her hair. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“Me too.”

“How you holding up, Harry?” Dan asks him as the medic checks Harry over.

“I’m alright, I’m feeling really tired, though.”

“So am I.” Nikki says.

“Rest up, we’re headed to a good hospital in Florida.” Dan says, keeping Nikki close to him.

The next time Harry wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. Kyle was sitting by his side. Harry groans as he looks over at him.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Kyle says. “I flew down here as soon as they called me, man. They said you were severely dehydrated, and you had way too much sun, even with all the sunscreen you guys were using. They want to keep you overnight for a psychological evaluation.”

“Makes sense.” Harry sighs. “We’re bound to have some shared trauma, nightmares, remembering certain parts of being thrown off a fucking cruise ship, you know, normal stuff.”

“I haven’t been able to see her yet. I guess Dan’s been in with her, trying to get more info on what happened.”

“Is she awake?”

“I think so…I’ve walked by her room a few times. Did, uh, did anything happen between you two out there?”

“Right, because being stranded is super romantic.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“M’serious, man, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know how you feel about her. The way you’d look at her sometimes…I could see it.”

“Nothing happened.” Harry swallows. “We were out there as friends, and we came back as friends.” Harry sits up a bit. “Is your girlfriend here?”

“No, she’s back at home. She was, uh, very understanding of me wanting to come down here and make sure you both we alright.” Harry nods at that. “If…if something did happen, like, if the next person she ends up being with is you…well, I’d be alright with that.”

“Oh, well, thank god for that. I was really worried about how you’d feel about her moving on.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Kyle. “You really fucked her up, you know that? She’s not going to be happy to see you.”

“I know what I did was wrong, but I still care about her wellbeing. I’m gonna go check if I can see her now.” He squeezes Harry’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Kyle stands up and goes down the hall to Nikki’s room. Dan was no longer sitting in there, so he figured it was now or never. He knocks on the door, and she sits up when she sees him.

“Kyle?”

“Hey.” He comes in cautiously. “When Dan called me…I got down to Florida as soon as I could.”

“Yeah? Where’s Claudia?”

“Back home…how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” Nikki sighs. “I’m not roughed up or anything, I guess we were really dehydrated, though. Must have been from all the sun because I had my water purifier…must not work as well with really salty water.”

“I was really worried about you, Nik.” Kyle starts sniffling as tears come to his eyes. “I would have never forgiven myself if you died and the last words you said to me were that you hated me.” He takes her hand in his. “I miss you so much. I hope…I hope we can find a way to be friends.”

“You can’t be serious.” She scoffs and takes her hand away. “You come here, make things about you, and then ask me to be your friend? You cheated on me for six months, Kyle, six months! And you still had the nerve to propose to me! You broke me in so many ways, and I’ve finally been able to put myself back together. Getting stuck out there was almost a blessing. It gave me a lot of the clarity that I needed.”

“I didn’t think you’d still go on the cruise…if I had, I never would have sold Harry the ticket. You must’ve been so mad when you saw him.”

“I was…but he was the perfect person to get stuck out there with.” She shrugs.

“Did anything happen between you two?” He chews on his bottom lip. “I saw him before you, and he said nothing happened, but…he’s a terrible liar. He said you went in as friends, and come out the same way, or something.”

“Well, he’s not wrong about that.” Nikki smirks. “You really wanna know what happened between us?” Kyle nods yes. “Too bad.”

“What?”

“You don’t have the right to know. I meant it when I said I hated you, Kyle. I do, I hate you. It was very nice of you to come down here and make sure we were both okay. I actually appreciate it, but I’ll never forgive you for what you did. Cheating…it’s just not something I can forgive.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Well…I…I really am glad you’re alright. Did they tell you when you’d be able to go home?”

“In a couple of days. They’re keeping us overnight, and then they’re sending in a shrink to evaluate us. Standard procedure.”

“If you need anything at all when you get home…any help suing the cruise ship company, please don’t hesitate to ask. I could help you pro bono.”

“My god, how selfless.” She rolls her eyes. “Go home to Claudia, Kyle.”

“Bye, Nikki.” He lingers for a moment, and then leaves. A few tears roll down her cheeks, but not because of him. She just…missed Harry and wanted to see how he was.

Nikki and Harry weren’t given much time together during their evaluations. They were each spoken to separately, and when they were brought into the same room, they had to speak to the psychologist directly. Nikki desperately wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but she wasn’t really given the chance. Harry was able to catch her in her room before they left the hospital. They were to go directly to the airport to head home.

“Hey.” He says to her.

“Hi.” She says as she zips up her bag. “I think I’m sitting with Dan on the plane.” She swallows.

“Right.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Um, listen, when we get home…don’t be afraid to talk to me. Like, if you have a nightmare or something, don’t be afraid to call. I won’t care what time it is.”

“That’s nice of you, thanks, but I’ll be alright. It’s no different than seeing some bad shit at a crime scene.”

“No, it’s not.” He sighs. “You might-“

“Harry, please.” She shakes her head as she grabs her bags. “I’m a big girl, I think I can handle what happened. It’s not like it was traumatic.” She scoffs.

“Yes it was, are you kidding me? A hurricane-“

“I was there, I know what happened.” She shakes her. “I appreciate you being so nice, but it happened, and it’s over now. Back to reality.”

What she said carried a lot of weight. She was coming down from her cloud, and she realized her and Harry needed to part ways here. Every time she looked at him, she saw Kyle, and she just couldn’t deal with that right now. Harry knew what she meant too. He was extremely disappointed. Even though he was the one that suggested they do what they did that night, he was feeling a lot of emotions about it, almost regret because he knew he’d never get another chance to feel her like that again.

“Captain, I swear I’m fine. I just want to get back to work.”

“I know you do, Reese, but you’ve been through a lot, and-“

“Sir, not to be disrespectful, but I disagree.”

“Nikki.” He sighs. “Take another week off, alright? Work will be waiting here until you get back. I’m happy to see you, but I’ll be happier once I know you’re home. It’s an order, Reese.”

She sighs, but does as he says. She couldn’t really argue with the captain of her precinct. She tells Dan she’ll be out for another week, and then heads home. She hadn’t spoken to Harry, but to be fair he hadn’t made an attempt to reach out to her. He wanted to give her some space, and let her come to him if she wanted to. By the third night she woke herself up screaming and in a cold sweat, she knew she had a problem. She kept having flashes of being dragged under water and not being able to breathe. She finally worked up the nerve to call him…at 3AM.

“Nikki?”

She could tell she had woken him up, but it felt so good to hear his voice.

“Hi.”

“Are you alright, love?”

“No.” She swallows. “No, I keep having nightmares.”

“So do I.” He sighs. “Do you want me to swing by?”

“No, that’s okay…I kinda just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“It’s not…it’s nice to hear yours too.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t reached out until now. I feel like I’ve been trying to pretend nothing happened.”

“A lot of people try to cope that way, but repressing shit isn’t healthy, Nik.”

“So I’ve come to realize. It’s crazy, like, I work with all of these victims, and I’ve never really understood how they couldn’t remember certain things, but I get it now.”

“Trauma’s funny like that.” He says softly. “Have you been back to work?”

“I tried, but my captain told me to take another week off. What about you?”

“I’m doing the same. I’m too distracted to properly help my patients. They’ve been very understanding.”

“That’s good.” She chews her bottom lip. “So, you’ll be home tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I could come by in the afternoon? It would be nice to talk…maybe we’ve been having the same nightmares. I keep waking up screaming and sweaty.”

“Are you dreaming about being dragged under the water?”

“Yeah…”

“So have I.” He sighs. “Come over around two tomorrow, yeah? I’ll text you my new address.”

“Okay, that sounds good, thanks, Harry.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Well…I’ll let you get back to sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Nik.”

Nikki knocked on Harry’s door promptly at 2PM. She was just in a simple quarter zip and jeans, along with her hair up in a messy bun. Harry opens the door wearing a tee shirt and joggers.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.” She says.

He steps aside to let her in. They look at each other for a moment, it looks like they’re both about to speak, but they both close their mouths. There was so much to be said, but neither were sure how to articulate it. Her eyes well up with tears, and she rushes towards him, throwing her arms around his neck, crashing her lips to his. He wastes no time wrapping his arms around her, and returning the kiss. Even though her mouth was preoccupied, kissing him made her feel like she could breathe for the first time in days.

“I missed you.” She says, pressing her head into his chest.

“I missed you too.” He rests his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry if that was weird, I just-“

He cups her cheeks so she’ll look up at him. He gives her a soft smile.

“Nikki, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…I was pretty jealous of Kyle for a while. I’ve always thought you were wonderful. Feel like we have a lot in common.”

“We do.” She agrees.

“We don’t have to rush into anything…I’d rather us work on ways to not have nightmares and such, but…if you’d be willing to give it a try, I’d love to take you out sometime.”

“You wouldn’t feel weird…about Kyle?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I…I don’t think he’s really someone I want around anymore. I’d rather have you around.” He kisses her tenderly, sucking on her bottom lip for just a moment. “I really fucking like you.”

“I can see that.” She swallows. “I think…I think we could have a lot of fun together.” A smirk grows on her lips. “Just don’t become my therapist, or I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise.” He smirks, nuzzling his nose to hers. “Wouldn’t mind seeing how you use your handcuffs.”

“Remember when I called you a moron?” She chuckles. “I meant it.” She shoves him.

“I was kidding, relax.”

“Mhm, sure.” She rolls her eyes.

“Do you want some tea? We could sit and chat. I’ve been trying to record the dreams I’ve been having in a journal. I have my patients do it, so I figured I’d take my own advice.” He leads her into his kitchen and has her sit. “I keep having the same one: drowning.”

“I have that one, and then I have one where…where I wasn’t able to hold onto you.” She frowns as he gets his kettle going. “You know…I had less night terrors sleeping on that beach with you than I have in a long time.”

“Can I ask…would Kyle hold you at night?” Harry sets a mug in front of her before he sits down.

“Um, usually when I’d first fall asleep he’d spoon me for a bit, but he’s not a cuddly sleeper, and he’d eventually roll over. We didn’t spend a lot of nights together because I’d usually wake him up by accident. What does any of that matter?”

“I held you all night while we were on the beach.” He puckers his lips in thought. “Do you have a weighted blanket?”

“No.”

“Do me a favor, get one. You may need the extra weight at night to keep you calm. They work wonders, I have one myself, and a body pillow. I’m a cuddly sleeper.”

“I’ll, um, I’ll look into that.” She takes a careful sip of her tea. “How can I get them stop? The nightmares.”

“Well, talking about it usually helps, and doing things like getting a weighted blanket can help. I think you’ve repressed a lot, Nikki…you need to talk about the things you see and feel.”

“It’s not that simple, Harry.” She sighs. “If anyone at work found out I was seeing a therapist-“

“If it’s that big of a deal…then don’t tell them.”

“Things have a way of getting out.”

“Then…just say you’re seeing me.”

“That’s not fair, though.”

“Nikki.” Harry sighs and places his hand on top of hers. “I’m not offering to be your therapist, I’m just offering to be someone that you can come to if you need to talk about something. M’a really good listener.” He smiles.

“I know you are…thank you. I just don’t want to come to you, and dump on you when people pay you to do that all day. Why should I burden you with my problems?”

“Oh, darling.” He raises her hand to his lips and kisses it. “Nothing about you is a burden. Tons of people feel that way, and that’s why they don’t want to talk to anyone, but once you get talking it just gets easier and easier. I always liked when you’d tell work stories…you could just tell me about the not so great stuff when it’s feeling really heavy.”

“So, if I come to you and say I just spent the day searching for a kid, and we found their dead body in the trunk of a car, you’d be okay with that?”

“Probably wouldn’t wanna chat about it over dinner, but sure.” He shrugs. “Nikki, I told you, I see people who have been through shit, victims and survivors, that stuff doesn’t scare me.”

“I may not open up right away.”

“That’s alright, we don’t always have to talk about the heavy stuff.” He smiles.

“What if I don’t wanna talk at all?” She mutters.

“Well, I don’t know if you remember what happened between us that one night on the beach, but I’m pretty good at not talking too.” He smirks.

“You know, if I had known you had liked me for a while, I wouldn’t have been such a jerk about kissing and stuff that night.”

“I was too blissed out with your hand wrapped around my prick to really care.”

Nikki licks her lips and swallows, looking at his lips briefly.

“You know what would be great?”

“What?”

“A tour of your apartment.”

“How rude of me to not offer when you first came in.” He stands up and extends his hand. She takes it, and lets him lead her around. He shows her the art on the walls, and the various books in his home office.

“Do you ever see patients here?” She asks as she sits down in one of his comfy chairs.

“God, no.” He shakes his head, leaning his bum on his desk. “Sometimes patients can grow certain attachments to their therapists, it’s better for them to not know where I live.”

“Right, because you’re the hot Dr. Styles.” She smirks. “Same thing happens to me sometimes. I’m usually the one they send in undercover to seduce some sick fuck.”

“That’s because you’re incredibly skilled and talented at what you do, Detective Reese.” Nikki stands up and wraps her arms around his neck. “You’re also insanely gorgeous, but that’s besides the point.” He kisses her nose. “Would you like to stay for dinner and watch a movie?”

“Yeah, I would.”

Five months later…

“Dan…what is this?” Nikki points to the plant Dan plopped down on her desk.

“It’s a bonsai tree, they’re super easy to take care of. Consider it your first house warming gift.” He beams at her.

“Aw, you old softie, thank you.” She gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Allie can’t wait for our next game night, by the way. She was thinking we could have you two over to play Clue once you’re all moved in.”

“Yeah! That sounds great. Oh! I wrote down that recipe for that dessert I made for her.” She grabs an envelope from her desk. “That cookies and cream pudding pie.”

“God, thanks.” Dan takes the envelope. “She’s been dying to make it, but she wants to make it the way you did so she can start selling it at the bakery and call it ‘The Nikki’.” He chuckles.

“She’s too sweet, honestly. If you don’t put a ring on it, I will.”

Things had been going really well for Nikki. Thanks to Harry, she had gotten better about opening up about things. It was so slow going at first, but eventually she got to talking, and it helped her be a better detective. Being Harry’s girlfriend was amazing. It didn’t take much for her to fall head over heels in love with him. And there was no denying that he was gaga over her. That’s why after just five months of dating, they were moving into their very own town home together. It didn’t feel fast to either of them because they had known each other for years, and they slept at each other’s places all the time as it was. It just made sense to move in together. They were in love, and were a great pair. Alex had even gotten used to it, and Harry set her up with one of his friends, Ben. Their friends helped them move, and Nikki put her new bonsai tree in her kitchen bay window. Everyone left after having some pizza and beer.

“Can you believe this is all ours?” He says into her ear as he wraps his arms around her from behind.

“No.” She giggles as he nibbles on her earlobe. “But I’m really happy.”

“Me too.” He hums. He sponges kisses to her neck and sinks his teeth into her skin.

“Harry.” She whines. “We need to unpack.”

“Don’t wanna.” He mumbles into her skin.

“Can we at least do the kitchen and the upstairs bathroom? You know, the, um, essentials.” She swallows. Harry was often very affectionate with her, and she liked it. She really, really liked it.

“Fine.” He turns her around. “But when we’re done with the kitchen and the upstairs bathroom, we’re doing the bedroom.”

“Seems fair to me.” She pecks his lips.

The two work in tandem to put their essentials away. It was actually fun to organize the cabinets together. Next, they go upstairs to work on their bathroom. Actually, Harry handles the bathroom while Nikki gets some fresh sheets on their new king sized bed.

“Bathroom’s all set.” Harry says.

“I just got the foam topper and the fitted sheet on the bed, I just have to – ah!”

Harry had grabbed her and thrown her onto the bed. She squeals as he launches himself onto it, almost crushing her in the process.

“Making the bed fully would be a waste of energy.” He says into her ear as he pins her wrists down. He sucks on her supple bottom lip, and lets it go, causing her to whimper. “Don’t you think?” She nods her head yes. “Just wanna fuck my new live-in girlfriend, can I?”

“Please.” She breathes. “Need you to take care of me.” She pouts at him.

“Aw, my angel-baby-detective needs some lovin’?” He pouts back at her.

“Uh-huh.”

He grins at her and has them both sit up. He peels off her tee shirt, and lifts off her sports bra. He gropes her breasts before kissing on them. He sucks bruise after bruise into her plushy skin. He pulls her into his lap so she can grind on him while he paid attention to her breasts. She liked it when Harry left marks on her like this. She liked being his. He lays her down onto her back. He kisses down her torso, nipping where he pleases. He loved kissing on her pudgier areas because he wanted to show how much he loved every inch of her. She did the same with his love handles. He drags her yoga pants and underwear off, and tosses them to the floor.

“Look at you, so wet already.” He says as he pulls her thighs apart.

“You were already making me feel so good, Har.”

He hums his response as he laps his tongue around her center. He moans once he gets a proper taste of her. He licks his way up to her clit and sucks on it while he works two fingers inside of her. She grabs at his hair and tugs on it while her body starts to tingle.

“Fuck, just like that.” She mewls while raising her hips to meet his mouth more. She comes to her release, and she tugs him up to her. She licks into his mouth and sucks on his tongue. “Get naked, now.” She nearly growls.

Harry grins and gets his clothes off. He sits up against the headboard and waits for Nikki to swing her leg over his lap. She lines him up with her center, rubbing his tip along her clit before sinking down onto him. They both moan out, and he grabs at her hips to help her find a rhythm. She puts her hands on his shoulders and starts bouncing up and down on his cock.

“God, I love you so much.” He grunts.

“I love you too.” She kisses him and runs her hands through his hair. “Don’t know I ever survived without having your big dick inside me, fuck.”

“Yeah? M’making you feel good, baby?”

“So fucking good.” She pants. “Best I’ve ever fucking had.”

She comes again, and with the way she clenches around him he nearly loses it inside of her. He lifts her off just in time and comes on her stomach. He kisses her over and over, and they both giggle. Once they’re both cleaned up, Harry helps Nikki get the bed made, and they both climb in. She rests her head on his stomach while he reads his book.

“Harry?” She looks up at him. “Could you out your book down for a second? I have something to tell you.”

“Sure, sweetie.” He dog-ears the page he’s on and sets his book down. “What’s up? Oh, is this about me buying the Hamilton Beach food processor instead of the Cuisine Art one like you wanted?”

“No.” She chuckles.

“Are you sure? Because you cried when I brought it home. I swear, the Hamilton Beach one had better reviews, that’s the only reason why I got it.”

“I cried because I was hormonal.” She chews her bottom lip. “Harry, I’m pregnant.”

“But I came on your stomach.” He blinks, and then looks down at her.

“Yeah, tonight you did.” She sits up so she can look at him better. She kisses his shoulder and then smiles at him. “My period was late, so I took a test just for the hell of it…I’m six weeks.” She grabs her phone off the side table. “I even took a selfie with it to show you.”

“Oh my god, you’re not kidding.” He looks at the picture and then at her. “How long have you known for?”

“Only a week. I wanted to wait until the move was over to tell you. How, um, how do you feel about this? We haven’t really talked about kids or anything.”

“I know.” He hands her back her phone and throws his arm around her. “I mean, I fully intended on proposing and all that, just not for another few months. I wanted to see how living together went.” He smiles down at her. “And I was hoping you’d want kids at some point…think you’d make a great mum. I’ve seen you with kids, you’re amazing.” He kisses her temple and starts laughing. “I can’t believe I’m gonna be a father.” He shakes his head. “Thanks, Nikki!”

“You’re such a dork.” She chuckles. “You’re really not mad, or upset?”

“How could I be? I’m living with the girl I never thought I’d even get the chance to kiss, and now she’s pregnant with my baby. I’m ecstatic.” He pecks her lips. “How are you feeling about all of it?”

“I’m…actually pretty excited. I mean…I went off birth control months ago for this very reason. I didn’t think it would happen quite this fast, but this is a pretty happy accident.”

“I wonder what we were doing six weeks ago.”

“What does it matter?”

“I’d just like to know how our little fetus got conceived.”

“I, um, think it was the night, you, uh, let me lick the whip cream off you on your desk.” She swallows.

“Oh, yeah! Blew my load right up into you, didn’t I?” He smirks. “We should do that again, it was a great sensory exercise.”

“Harry!” She smacks his chest.

“You’re really okay with all this, Nik? It’s your body.” He caresses her cheek and she leans into his warm palm.

“I’m more than okay with it. Just don’t rush an engagement or anything like that, okay? I wanna marry you at some point too…but…not just because I’m pregnant.”

“So…if like four months from now I had a long weekend for us planned to go apple picking up north, and while we were settling down in the evening getting cozy in front of a fire place…you wouldn’t want me to propose?”

“You know, I hear being pregnant can make you forget all kinds of things, so I can’t wait to be surprised four months from now when you suggest going away for a long weekend to go apple picking.” She beams at him. “I think I’d really like that.”

#wrecked #harry styles #harry styes imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x oc #thereapist!harry #psychologist!harry

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years ago

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“Alex…” Jo interrupts, her hand slowly curing round his, the one resting on her bump. He can feel his lips trembling as the tears he’d fought so hard to keep at bay begin to fall.

"I put glow in the dark stars up.” He whispered. "So she can't be dead."

On one of the rare occasions, Alex and Jo’s days off don’t coincide, Alex finds himself wishing for a six-hour surgery, hell he’d rather be removing splinters than deciding between lemon sherbet and soft daffodil. To say he was excited about the impending arrival of their second child would be an understatement but completing the ridiculously long list Jo had left him to do this morning before rushing off with Robin felt more like torture.

He understood though, with only two months to go everything seemed to pile up on them, the quiet calm they had mistaken for panic when Robin was on the way paled in comparison when they were trying to juggle two full time demanding careers, a new puppy, a new baby and a toddler whose main goal in life seemed to be giving his parents a heart attack with the many hiding places he could find.

And this is how Alex found himself staring into the abyss of a million Amazon boxes that Jo had somehow managed to sneak by him, with various shades of yellow paint cans dotted around.

He understood Jo’s desire to make everything perfect, she’d been that way since she’d stepped out of the loft bathroom over two years ago, her hands shaking as she lifted the test towards him clearly displaying two lines. He swears they both had good intentions when Robin was born, he wouldn’t be spoiled, there wouldn't be gifts that make up for missing birthdays or missing bedtimes, they’d be honest about mommy and daddy having to work hard for everything they have and yet they couldn’t seem to stop themselves, because the luxury of giving their son and now their daughter everything they’d never had brought more happiness to Jo and Alex then maybe their children would ever understand. There could never be a single second their children doubted how loved and wanted they truly were, so it didn’t matter if their daughter would be in with them for the first few months, her room had to be finished before she arrived.

Their daughter...he smiles at the mere thought of her, their daughter, who likes to kick when their reading Robins bedtime stories, or plays the guitar on Jo’s rib cage until Alex sings along softly with her in the early hours of the morning, their daughter who’d refused to make herself seen for the first two scans.

It’s only when Alex finishes the last coat of soft daffodil that he hears the faint ringing of his phone above the radio. Shuffling down the ladder he wipes the back of his hand on his shirt as he hears the familiar ringtone sound again making Alex frown as he manages to navigate his way through the maze of boxes he's built around himself.

There’s a slight twitch in his chest as he begins down the stairs hearing his phone fall quiet only to start up again seconds later. He finds it still plugged in by the coffee machine where he’d left it, glancing at the screen to see he had twelve missed calls and three voicemails.

There's a definite twitch in his chest now as he clicks play on Jo's first voicemail, his lips twitching up at the sound of Robin's singing. They sounded like they were still in the car as Jo listed off a few more things she needed him to do.

"Hey, sorry I know you said not to go overboard but there are two more deliveries coming today so make sure to listen out for them and oh oh...if you get a chance to go grocery shopping we need...well we need pretty much everything but get me those cupcakes with the oranges on them and oh erm..." She paused after taking a slightly heavy breath. "I do not feel great today, maybe I can get someone to take over my surgeries. Oh and don’t forget to get the box of baby clothes down from the attic will you...okay... I love you, Alex, I’ll call you later."

He frowned quickly, bypassing the message Meredith had left, assuming it was whatever love triangle tragedy she had that day. He finds Jo's second message. There was no greeting to this one, only Jo's panicked voice.

"Why aren’t you answering the phone Alex? What’s the point of having one if you don’t ever answer it?”

His phone beeped again, signalling another message had been left, this time from Meredith again.

"Alex, where the hell are you? You need to be here now. I don't know if Jo is trying not to worry you but Carina is having her admitted so get over here before I leave work and drag you here myself.”

He felt his heart begin to drop in his chest as he hit replay, trying to piece together what was happening. Before he even knew it his feet were carrying him towards the front door, keys in hand as he rushed out. His entire mind had narrowed in on one simple need: to get to Jo.

He couldn't think of much else as he drove, he doesn’t even remember his route to the hospital he just remembers being at home and then bursting through the doors of Grey Sloan. He was severely out of breath by the time he caught sight of Meredith outside the maternity ward talking quietly with Bailey.

The best thing about Meredith, and what made her excel as a doctor, was that she was damn good in a crisis. So she knew the minute their eyes met that Alex just needed Jo. As soon as he’s within reach she wraps an arm around his shoulder—which felt way too much like condolences for Alex's liking and leads him through the doors where Carina was already waiting. This had to be a mistake. Jo was fine last night. Their daughter was fine last night. He’d felt her kicking as they’d talked. They’d talked about his mom's upcoming visit, and maybe going to see Amber and her family for Christmas or inviting them here.

"—I know. It's awful." Carina mutters her eyes on Jo's chart. The intern beside her nodded in agreement.

"I hope Dr Karev shows up before the ultrasound. She shouldn't have to deal with that alone." The intern responds.

“He’s here,” Carina whispers as she looks up, hearing Alex and Meredith footsteps as she tucks the chart under her arm. “If you can go set up the ultrasound while I talk to him.”

"Of course."

Alex gulps at the sorrow on Carina’s face as she steps closer, it's all too much for him as he averts his gaze down to the floor, his eyes catching on the silver band around his finger, splattered with yellow paint from earlier.

"What's going on?" Alex asks, hearing his voice crack as Meredith drops her hand from his back.

"Alex, you need to take a breath and pull yourself together because right now Jo needs you.”

He doesn't respond to Mer, doesn't even look at her as he raises his gaze back towards Carina, “What’s going on?” He repeats, his voice lower this time.

"Jo's in premature labour. She mentioned a couple of hours ago that she had some pretty bad Braxton Hicks, but then she timed them and they were too close together and too regular. So she paged me, and when I checked her cervix had already begun to open-”

Alex found himself nodding along but Carina’s words soon faded to quiet buzz in his ears. His fingers are already twitching to hold Jo. This couldn’t be happening, not to them. Not now.

"Okay." He whispers his voice dangerously low as he blinks back tears, desperately trying to pull himself together when everything in him was burning. Please don’t do this, please don’t take her from us, please don’t do this to her . He can feel his nails digging into the palm of his hand, the only way he's sure he’s still alive is the dull pain he feels as he takes a deep breath gathering himself slowly. Suddenly his doctor brain kicks in as he begins to ask what they are doing to fix this, listing everything he knew like he wasn’t surrounded by some of the best doctors he knew.

Carina nods, her words still buzzing in Alex’s head as she explains the past couple of hours, Jo’s contractions stopped an hour ago, her cervix hasn't opened any further.

“We’re just waiting to do an ultrasound...it really needs to be done right away.”

“Right...what's the problem then?”

“She’s refusing Alex, won't let anyone near her.”

Alex shakes his head, that's not true. Jo wouldn’t...she would never do anything that could harm their baby. She wouldn’t refuse medical care. He watches as Meredith shoots another look to Carina who sighs, tilting her head in a way that has Alex’s heart dropping into his stomach. “I tried earlier with the stethoscope to find the heartbeat...and was unsuccessful.”

"Alex, do you understand? We couldn't find a heartbeat. Dr DeLuca tried and I did too. Even Jo tried...now she’s refusing the ultrasound, she won’t let anyone touch her."

The childish reaction was quick and automatic. "Maybe you didn’t try hard enough, you didn’t do it right, okay? You know you should check properly.”

Carina took a deep breath. "Alex, I'm sorry. I’m going to do an ultrasound, of course, but…I don't know. It's usually easy to hear it with a stethoscope at twenty-eight weeks. Intrauterine deaths happen and there's not much—"

He felt like he couldn't breathe. His hand was clutching at his chest trying to feel the air filling his lungs but he couldn’t feel a thing as everything went fuzzy again. "Stop. Just shut up. You don’t know Jo. You don’t know our…"

"I'm so, so, s o sorry, Alex," Mer whispered. "I know how much you wanted her."

He felt his eyes burning. "I still want her. And you're wrong because I just felt her kick last night. She was kicking when I sang—she always does that. She does. So she can't be dead."

He chokes on his words. “She’s not...dead.”

There’s a quiet discussion mainly between Carina and Meredith who seems to be answering for Alex as they both guide him towards a door at the end of the corridor:

He has to stand outside the door for a full minute as he tries to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want his face to show how truly scared he is at this moment.

When he does finally gather himself enough to step into the room he notices how the curtains were pulled, blocking almost all of the sunlight from the otherwise dark room. Jo was curled up onto her side, her entire body tucked protectively around Robin's sleeping frame. She hadn't even lifted her head or made a move to turn when the door shut behind Alex, and that terrified him so deeply that he couldn't even move. It had all suddenly gotten very real.

He walked slowly around the bed so he could see her face, he needed to meet her eyes or he’d never believe any of this was true. But as he rounded the bed he was met with her blank stare, blinking slowly as she took in his form.

"Robin needs to go home. I don't want him to have to see any more of this." She said quietly. She made no move to speak about what was going on. She was emotionless and it terrified him. Suddenly flashbacks of the first time he’d ever seen her look so shut down came to mind. When she’d first met her biological mother. When she’d shut down and left him out in the cold. He wasn’t sure he could survive it back then, he’d needed her so much but now he was certain he’d never survive without her.

Alex turned his focus to his son, who was asleep with his face scrunched up against Jo’s chest, his chubby hands resting on the swell of her stomach.

"I can get Mer to take him home with her." He told Jo quietly, he couldn't find any other words to say, it seemed neither could she.

Jo just nods in response but makes no effort to move. Alex could tell by her hand curling tighter around Robin's back that she wasn’t quite ready to let him go yet.

He’s not sure how much time passes next, as he takes a seat carefully on the edge of the bed. Reaching out gingerly to run his hands softly across Jo's cheek. And it’s in that moment when their eyes meet, his thumb tracing the already dried tear tracks down her face that they break. She lifts her right arm gathering a handful of his shirt tightly pulling him closer, pressing her cheek against his chest so she could hear his steady heartbeat. She doesn't say anything and for a second she’s silent before the sob she must’ve been holding back erupts from her and Alex can feel the tears begin to soak through his T-shirt. He feels powerless, all he can do is keep a steady arm wrapped around his wife holding her tightly to him. That was what hurt him the most about this. He couldn't do anything to take her pain away. He couldn’t fix this.

“Jo…Jo Carina is waiting to do an ultrasound…we need…we need to be sure.” Alex sighs trying to keep his tears at bay as she continues to shake in his arms. “Why won’t you let her help?”

"I didn't want anyone else." She finally admits, loosening her grip enough that he can see her face, her lips trembling as she speaks. The sight alone sends another sharp stab through Alex’s heart. "I didn't want anyone. I wanted you. I wanted—I wanted you to make it better."

Alex nods, wishing with everything in him that he could make any of this better. He lets out a shaky breath as Jo settles back down so her head was resting on his chest, her face pressing into his collarbone. He knows it is selfish, he knows it might kill them both but he can’t help reaching out over Robin's little body and pressing his hand to her stomach. He waits a moment…before pressing again, still waiting to feel the usual response. He hears Jo's breath hitch as she too waits for the little nudge of their daughter's feet, he knows she’s usually responded by now but he waits, he just keeps waiting. He thinks sort of him will always be waiting for that little kick…he thinks this moment might be frozen in time. Not us. This happens to people, but not us. Maybe it wasn’t fair to think like that, after all, every day he sees the worst card parents could ever be handed in life and yet he says the same lines about support groups and doing everything he could and not once did he think he’d ever need to hear those words.

He doesn’t know how long he keeps his hand there just waiting. "I just finished painting the nursery. I went with soft daffodils but if you prefer lemon sherbet we can change it…we can pick whatever colour you want, and I know I said we didn’t need a new crib but if you want that fancy one we’ll-“

“Alex…” Jo interrupts, her hand slowly curling around his own on her bump. He can feel his own lips trembling as the tears he’d fought so hard to keep at bay begin to fall.

"I put glow in the dark stars up.” He whispered. "So she can't be dead."

There’s no logic to what he said. There’s no truth to his reasoning but he believes it. Jo winces at his words or more likely one word in particular. He feels her drag his hand down to where Robin's tiny hands rest, a little reminder of what they still have.

Alex moves closer to them, pulling Robin gently onto his chest, sliding over and opening his arms for Jo. Letting her sink into him. She rests against him like she no longer has the strength to hold herself up.

“I'm sorry. I thought it was nothing more than Braxton Hicks. Can you believe that? I’m a freaking doctor and I couldn’t tell the difference between Braxton hicks and labour. I should have known better. I did this. This is my fault—"

Alex cuts her off, shushing her. "It's not your fault," he assures her. Life was unfair. He knew that. But this pain Jo didn’t deserve. Not his children. Not Robin. Not their new little girl with the stars on her ceiling. Not his family. They hadn't built this together for it to be broken.

"Please don't cry," she pleaded, her voice wavering. "Please don't, it terrifies me. I'm already so scared, Alex. I'm so scared."

Alex just nods, swallowing deeply as he pulls her tighter against his side. It was true that everything had changed once he'd had children. He no longer understood how he had lived without them. And he was realizing that everything he gained could be taken just as easily. He knew that, if this baby really were gone, there would be nothing he could do to ever fix the pain that would settle in Jo's heart or his own for that matter.

He feels Robin begin to stir against him and he forces a smile on his face and kisses his head, smiling genuinely when the little one lifts his arms, reaching out for his father in an instant.

"Daddy” He cheered, his little fists gripping Alex’s T-shirt as he shifted him higher up his chest. He settles his palm on the back of his head and kisses his head again.

"Robin, how would you feel about playing with Ellis, Bailey and Zola tonight?" He asks him carefully.

Robin is as stubborn as his mother. "Scout?" He suggests instead.

"Yeah okay, we can see if Uncle Link will take you. You can play with Scout and then mommy and daddy will see you when you wake up." He knows Robin has no real clue on what’s happening around him but he knew Jo had been right. He didn't need to be here.

Robin lifts his head and peers down at Jo. He seemed to be thinking hard about the proposition before shaking his head fiercely.

"No."

No was his new favourite word and Alex was already sick of hearing it. He strokes his hair back as he meets eyes with Jo. Her tears are still falling steadily. Her hands spread out over her stomach and he knew she was waiting to feel something still.

"No, I want mommy," Robin insists. His little face mustering up what Alex assumed was a scowl as he reached over to wrap his hand around one of Jo's curls hanging loose in front of her face. Alex didn’t have it in him to battle Robin today, it’s not like he wanted to let go of Jo either.

They were out of time to decide what to do about Robin because Carina was already wheeling in the ultrasound. Jo tensed beside him, her hand gripping his tightly as he rose from his place on the bed lifting Robin with him.

"I can't. Please." She whispers and if possible his heart cracked even more.

She was hanging on by a thin thread, but she was hanging onto him. They could survive this…they could survive it together. He lifts Robin higher up his chest, gently cradling Robin's head to his shoulder as the little one's legs wrapped around him.

Alex stared at the swell of Jo’s stomach, the same stomach he'd kissed just last night and singing old country songs much to Jo's amusement. There was no way…there was no way she was…he’d just finished her room…the paint was still wet. Her name is written in stars above her crib. She can’t be.

Alex didn't even realize he was crying until Carina flashes him a sympathetic smile. Robin lifts his head as he squirms in his fathers’ tight grip, peering up at him with a frown. Reaching out to touch his cheeks with his small hands.

"Daddy sad?” He whispers curiously. Alex was torn because there’s no way of explaining this to their toddler and he doesn't want to scare him. Instead, he settles for pressing him back against his chest, his little face squeezed against his neck because while he didn’t want him to watch he also couldn’t bear to let him go.

He watches as Carina helps Jo to sit up. It was too much to watch, the way her whole body shakes as her cries shook through her. He reached for her hand, laying limp by her side, his hand covering hers as he threaded their fingers together. She squeezes his hand back, gripping onto him like he was the only thing stopping her from coming undone. Her hand in his gave him a spark of hope that maybe no matter what happened next they’d make it together, as long they just kept holding on.

He almost dropped Robin in paralyzing relief when the familiar whooshing of the heartbeat filled the room. He lets out a cry of relief as he shakes his head. Alex presses his face back into Robin's hair and squeezes Jo's hand tightly, his heart still pounding away.

"Why wasn't she moving?" Jo asks, her voice hoarse. "I tried everything and she wouldn't move. And why couldn't you find it before?"

"Babies don't move much if at all during labour," Carina explained. "And I don't know. I listened for such a long time.” Once again Alex’s mind blocks out the surrounding noise until it’s a quiet buzz. Instead, he focuses on the image of their baby girl on the screen, the feel of Robin's hot breath against his neck and Jo's hand still clutching his tightly. His family. He’s had these images ever since they’d decided to try for a second…maybe even longer, before Robin, before he and Jo had even got married he’d had this whole dream…Jo, their kids and the house they’d live in and the life they’d live. “But you'll have to be on strict bed rest for the rest of this pregnancy, and even then there's no way to know how long you can prolong labour. If we can keep her from being born for at least a month she’ll be in a much better position."

He comes back down to reality when he feels Jo tug at his hand, she’s looking up at him expectantly. “There’s our girl,” He whispers, leaning closer, pressing a quiet kiss to her hair, not even glancing at Carina as she backs out of the room to give them a moment.

"What if I have to give birth soon?" She mumbled into his shirt. "What if we lose her anyway?"

He shook his head firmly. "We won't.”

He kisses her forehead and glances down at Robin before turning back to Jo. She was looking at him with that look. The one that communicated very clearly that she trusted him with everything in her.

Alex set his hands on her stomach and let out another relieved breath.

"God." He said quietly. She set her hand over his and caressed the back of his hand with her thumb.

Jo's expression twists with guilt. "I’m so sorry...this is all my fault. I've been overworking myself. I always think I can do so much more than I can and our girl is suffering because of it. Maybe I'm not fit to be a mother."

Alex shook his head. "If you're not fit to be a mother, Jo, no one is. Hell, you know what an unfit parent looks like and you are not one."

She opens her mouth to say something else, but abruptly she stops, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. Her expression goes from shock to joy in no time at all as she grabs his hands gently and moves them back to her stomach, pressing down lightly. Alex feels a familiar, returning nudge, gentle and soft, but definitely there. He laughs giddily and locks eyes with Jo, pleased when she laughs in return. He moves around the bed, leaning over Jo so he could press a kiss to the spot he'd last felt the nudge. He keeps his cheek pressed against her soft skin for a moment, whispering a quiet ‘I love you.’ before looking back at Jo’s teary gaze.

"Robin, come here. Come feel your sister." He tells the toddler. Alex tugs him up into his lap and helps guide his hand to the spot he'd just kissed. He applies slight pressure and laughs at the joyous giggle Robin gives when he feels the baby move underneath his hand.

"That's your little sister."

Robin looked up at her father and smiled but the tiny movements didn’t keep his attention for long as he began to climb out of Alex’s grip, into Jo's welcoming arms.

“It’s gonna be okay Jo. We’re gonna be okay.”

Jo looks up at him. Tears still trailing down her face but the sparkle missing from her gaze earlier was slowly making its way back.

He smiles gently, reaching out to cup her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs softly over the wet trails her tears left. "Everything’s gonna be okay.” He promised. "You'll see."

And she did. A little over two months later their baby girl made her entrance into the world, a little less dramatic than her brother as she’d been monitored so closely, that it was no surprise when she decided to join everyone. With her brown eyes sparkling with the same warmth as her mother’s and a full head of hair she was every little bit perfect as Alex had imagined. A little taste of heaven.

“Hey, baby…welcome home.” Alex grinned as he pulled open the door to the nursery, ushering in Robin who proudly displayed the teddy he’d chosen for his baby sister as Jo slowly made her way inside. She’d been too afraid to step inside since the incident, she claimed it would jinx it.

“Oh wow…” She hummed happily looking down at the bundle in her arms, who as predicted was still asleep and had no understanding of the magnitude of the moment happening around her. “Aren’t you a lucky girl P?”

“Mommy… I see…you sit.” Robin yelps, pulling Jo from the bottom of her cardigan towards the new rocking chair set up in the corner. Jo is all too happy to take a seat, allowing Robin to catch sight of his baby sister.

“It’s perfect Alex…Thank you.” Jo mumbles after a minute, catching Alex’s eye who had taken the moment to settle against the door frame and just watch his family.

He smiles softly, before pushing up off the frame heading towards the window. “You haven’t seen the best bit.” He pulls the blinds down slowly, letting darkness take over the room leaving only the glowing stars for light.

Robin gasped as he looked around in wonder but Jo's eyes remained trained on Alex. “I love you.” She whispers.

“I love you.” Alex grins, kneeling down beside the chair as he runs his hand across their daughter's head. “I love you all…now look up.”

Tilting her head, Jo looked up at the ceiling and gasped. The stars trailed up the wall and right above the crib, they clustered together, spelling out their dear daughter's name.

Peyton.

Yes. This is a day late. But it's also very on-brand for me so.

This one-shot is part of the What Could've Been universe so if you haven't read them I would thoroughly recommend reading them, you find them all under my master post on Tumblr.

Also, I made all the medical crap up, so don't come for me with corrections...I don't care.

#alex karev #jolex #jo wilson #jo karev #greys anatomy #greys abc #justin chambers #greysanatony #greys #camilla luddington #Jolex oneshot #Jolex fanfic #jolex fanfiction #tsjolexweek

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thegirlonpeetamellark · 4 years ago

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Christmas Break - Part 1

Surprise!! After a looong time away Court returns to Everlark fic world with a little holiday treat for everyone - enjoy! :)

Hi everyone. So 2020 has sucked. For me, the beginning of quarantine was actually a bit of a gift. Being home gave me the gift of time, something I haven’t had much of as my daughters (who were very little when I started writing in this fandom) have gotten older. While I never stopped writing, it was a struggle to find long enough chunks of time to get into a flow. I started writing again with earnest. Not all of it was my fanfiction; some of it was my original work. El keeps me posted on the humbling and kind asks she gets about my writing. I felt bad that despite my increased writing, I still wasn’t ready to update any WIPs. But I did remember a story I had started for the final holiday PiP that I was never able to get past the first page (due to lack of time that year) and to my surprise, it started flowing. I had every intention of finishing it and having El post it as a gift to this fandom. But once my school went “back” in October and hybrid learning started, that was it. My time was gone. And further, my family experienced the very sudden and non-Covid-related death of my aunt. So while I have nearly half of this story written, it’s not done. But it will be, very soon, since it is a one-shot. As with all my stories, it took on a life of its own and it needs more love. So what I have for the readers who have loyally followed me is the first part, the part that involves Christmas. It’s my hope to have a second part posted in a week or two, so that by the time that part posts, a final part is nearly done.

Thank you for your asks and your patience, and thank you to El, one of my favorite people in this world and the best thing my time in this fandom has given me. Thank you for your encouragement. Our friendship means the world to me.

Here’s to a better 2021. Love to you all. Court

Christmas Break

Fuck, not again, Peeta grouses as the opening notes of that insidious Mariah Carey song pipe through the loudspeaker. That’s the third time in the last two hours. He’s all for holiday spirit, but if he never hears this fucking song again it will be too soon.

Leaning his forehead against the cold pane of glass, he peers out of the fourth-story window into the darkened sky. When he had arrived at work a few hours ago, the snow had just been starting to fall; a slow, lazy tumble of flakes. Now it’s coming down in a tumultuous swirl. It figures Panem would finally see a white Christmas his first Christmas Eve on rotation in the emergency room. No doubt the weather is partially to blame for the crush of bodies crowding the waiting room tonight.

Peeta walks away from the window and opens the cabinet where he stashes his Clif bars. The economy-sized box looks suspiciously closer to empty than it did the other day. He’s heard complaints from other doctors and nurses that snacks are pilfered on a regular basis and was warned to label his own boxes. But he had forgone the warnings. If someone needed an energy bar badly enough to steal one, what was the $20 he had spent on them at Costco. He snags one and unwraps it.

He’s just raised it to his mouth when his Apple watch pings and his silenced cell phone pulses insistently against his thigh. Heaving a loud sigh, he sets down the energy bar and withdraws the phone from his pocket.

“Mom, you’ve got exactly 60 seconds,” he grits out. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to confirm it’s her. She’s called twice already tonight, calls he’s ignored with good reason, but somehow his mother thinks a phone call from her trumps any actual emergencies her doctor son could be dealing with. Which, tonight, have been nonstop since his shift began at six.

“Please tell me you ate something,” she begins.

“I was just about to, when you called,” he replies. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes. It’s been utter chaos for the last four hours.”

“We missed you at dinner. I can’t remember the last Christmas Eve when I didn’t have all three of my boys together.” Peeta closes his eyes. All these years my mother has been gushing about having a doctor in the family, and yet she never stopped to consider the ramifications of actually having a doctor in the family, he thinks. Particularly its impact on holiday gatherings. She obviously hadn’t learned anything from this past Thanksgiving, as now, just a month later, she’s already dumping a fresh guilt trip on him for missing another family dinner.

She continues, “And Jackson and Maxwell were just devastated when they heard you weren’t coming, until I assured them they’d see you tomorrow. We will see you tomorrow, yes?”

Peeta suppresses another exasperated sigh and breaks off a chunk of the Clif bar. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be there.” And though it’s childish, he crams the bar into his mouth and mumbles around it, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His chewing masks the sarcasm that weighs down the words.

“Excellent. We need an updated family portrait before Everly and Rye have to leave for her parents’ house.” Placated, his mother moves to ends the call, but not before getting in a less-than-subtle comment about how much she adores his brother Rye’s fiancée and how happy she is Rye is settling down.

Staring at the disconnected call flashing on the screen, Peeta tries not to let the remark get to him. Mostly because he knows it’s a lie. His mother has complained more than once about Everly and how she’s not good enough for Rye. Peeta knows the dig was directed at him. He hasn’t truly had a serious girlfriend since junior year of college; just a few casual relationships that barely qualified as relationships. He doesn’t know how his mother expects him to meet someone with the hours he keeps. And his father, for as close as they are, never seems willing to jump to Peeta’s defense.

Taking a deep breath to let his irritation suffuse, he jams his phone back in his pocket and scarfs down the rest of his pathetic dinner. All three bites of it. Then he uses the restroom, dutifully washes his hand, and stalks out of the staff lounge, his short break over.

As he strides up the corridor, he hears loud shouting coming from the ER waiting room.

“…should be asleep in her bed, waiting for Santa Claus to come, but instead, we’re still here waiting for someone to take a look at her arm! It’s been over two hours! Don’t you people have any compassion? Or is Ebenezer Freaking Scrooge running this place tonight?”

Curious, Peeta veers towards the reception desk, where his eyes land on the ranting woman. She’s young, probably no older than her mid-twenties, and in spite of the fact that her dark hair is spilling out of a messy braid and she’s not wearing any makeup, Peeta is immediately struck by her beauty. The rosy flush to her cheeks from her tirade actually makes her even prettier. She’s cradling a toddler and protectively shielding the little girl’s right arm. The toddler’s blonde head rests on her mother’s shoulder, her thumb wedged into her tiny pink mouth. Her left arm clutches a stuffed orange cat. She looks tired. Actually, both mother and daughter do.

“Miss, I understand your frustration, I really do,” the receptionist says calmly, her eyes cutting to Peeta as he stops by her side. He reads the name on the file on top of the stack, the next patient scheduled to be seen: MCMURPHY, JOSEPH. Clearly not the little girl in front of him.

“I don’t think you do!” the young mother cries, her eyes flashing steel. “She’s three, she’s in pain, and she’s scared. And what’s more, I’ve seen at least five people go ahead of us who came in after us!”

“That’s not how the emergency room works, miss,” the receptionist replies. She drums her fingertips on the desk, offering the young mother a tight smile.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the young mother adds, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. Discreetly, Peeta moves around the receptionist’s chair, scanning the desktop until he spies the stack of files for the patients awaiting admission. While the receptionist continues to give the young mother the run-around, he thumbs through the stack, searching. His eyes land on what he’s looking for: a date of birth. His lips tip up. Bingo. This has to be it: HAWTHORNE, IVY ANN.

At the exact second his hand snatches Ivy’s file from the pile and slips the other one in amongst the stack, the young mother’s eyes lock on his. Her gaze narrows. He can see the exhaustion all over her beautiful face. Her full lips twitch, her countenance suspicious as they stare at one another.

“Ivy Hawthorne?” Peeta taps the file he had extricated. An immediate flicker of relief lights the young mother’s mercury eyes, and that lush mouth breaks into a grateful, relieved smile. The receptionist’s neck snaps up. “I’ve got this,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him. It’s not protocol for Peeta to take a patient directly, but it’s also not blatantly against the rules. Sure, it might mean a little more work for him, but if it means he can get this little girl home sooner on Christmas Eve, it’s worth it.

He smiles at the little girl. “Ivy, I’m Doctor Mellark. I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?” She nods once but doesn’t lift her head from her mother’s shoulder. Peeta’s arm sweeps to the side, ushering the young mother and Ivy past the desk. He scans the hallway and spies a partially drawn curtain halfway up the corridor. He leads them to the available partition and close the curtain behind them. As he turns to face them, he nearly slams into the woman. She hasn’t moved, and her luminous grey eyes fasten to his. She looks as if she’s going to say something, but several seconds pass and she’s still quiet, still watching him. The silence starts to become uncomfortable. Peeta clears his throat.

“If you’d have a seat, please, Mrs. Hawthorne. You can hold her while I get some more information from you.”

The young woman’s lips part slightly, again appearing as if she wants to say something, but instead she shuffles forward and Peeta waits while she settles on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly adjusting Ivy so she’s sitting sideways across her mother’s lap.

Peeta sinks down onto the stool and scoots towards the edge of the bed. This close he has a much better look at Ivy’s mother. She really is a beautiful young woman, and given how adorable Ivy is Peeta assumes her husband is probably also very attractive. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Lucky bastard. Pretty wife, cute kid…probably has a nice little house and a golden retriever too. Living the dream. His dream, if he allows himself to admit it to anyone but his mother. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always envisioned himself married by now.

“How old are you, Ivy?” he ask, even though he knows from her chart and her mother’s declaration that she’s three years old. She hesitates, and still clutching the stuffed cat, manages to display three fingers. Peeta smiles at her again.

“I have a nephew who is the exact same age as you are. He told me just last week that he’s a big boy now. Are you a big girl, Ivy?” He keeps his tone gentle, hoping it will put her at ease with him. She nods, her big blue eyes lightening imperceptibly. “I thought so. Can you be a big girl and tell me what happened to your arm?”

Her mother answers automatically, “She fell. I was only gone—” Peeta holds up his palm. He has the triage nurse’s initial assessment, so he knows Ivy’s arm is likely broken. What he doesn’t know is how the arm got broken. And those details he needs to try to get from Ivy herself. Kids her age always tell the truth when it comes to how they were injured, and unfortunately it’s part of Peeta’s job to make sure there isn’t a more sinister reason she’s in the E.R. tonight, no matter how sweet and innocent her mother appears. He’s already had a few encounters with suspected child abuse, though his gut tells him that isn’t the case with Ivy Hawthorne.

“Please. I would like Ivy to tell me how it happened.”

Something dangerous flints in Ivy’s mother’s now stormy grey eyes.

“She. Fell.” The words are curt, enunciated coolly, but her voice is soft and Peeta can tell she’s keeping her temper in check for the benefit of her daughter. Eyes still pinned to his, she inhales deeply. A second later, her shoulders relax. “Go ahead and tell the nice doctor how you hurt your arm,” she whispers, stroking Ivy’s curls.

“I was trying to see Santa,” Ivy replies, her tongue tripping in a lisp on the “S’s.”

“What do you mean by that?” he prompts her.

Ivy scrunches up her button nose. “I was trying to see up the chimney. ‘Cause the chimney at Aunt Katniss’s house is so skinny and Santa Claus is real fat and I don’t know how he’s gonna fit down it to bring me my presents!” Her blue eyes brim with tears and her lower lip starts to tremble. Peeta reaches over and pats her knee.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart. Santa Claus is magic. He’ll get you your presents, no matter what the chimney looks like.” He exchanges a look with her mother.

“It was all my fault,” she says quietly. “I went in the kitchen, to get the cookies and milk—”

“And the carrots! For Rudolph and the other reindeer!” Ivy chimes in, her eyes shiny wet.

“I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. This is my fault. It’s my fault. She wouldn’t have slipped and fallen off the hearth if I had been watching her.” Guilt chokes her words, and it sounds as if she’s close to tears.

“Accidents happen, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Peeta says empathetically, “that’s why there are emergency rooms.” She presses her lips together, her brows knitting.

“It’s Everdeen,” she says quietly. Peeta drops his eyes to Ivy’s chart, and furrows his brows, his gaze wandering to the young woman’s left hand. No ring. A brief thrill curls through him at the thought that she’s single. Asshole, he immediately chides himself. So not what you should be thinking about right now. He scans the chart more carefully and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, “but this lists Primrose Hawthorne as the mother, under the Parent/Guardian information, and a Rory Hawthorne as the father. I just assumed—”

She cuts him off. “Primrose Hawthorne was her mother. But I’m not Primrose Hawthorne. I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I’m her aunt. I should be listed as her primary emergency contact.” She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut briefly. When she opens them, they plead with his. Peeta glances down at Ivy, and then raises his eyes to Katniss again. The guilt that was clouding those silver irises a moment ago has dissipated, replaced with anguish. He doesn’t know what the full story is here, but he didn’t miss Katniss’s usage of the past tense in referring to Ivy’s mother. So he honors her silent appeal not to ask questions.

“Okay, Ivy, you fell, and you landed on your arm? I bet that hurt,” Peeta says to the little girl, but his gaze stays fastens on Katniss. She gives him the faintest smile and mouths, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, the orthopedist informs Peeta that Ivy Hawthorne is ready for his approval to be discharged. Not wanting to keep her and her aunt waiting any later than necessary, he sets down the X-ray he had been studying, and heads back to where Ivy is.

Standing outside the curtain, he hears quiet singing. He draws back the curtain and sees Katniss seated on the bed, with Ivy nestled in her lap. A bright pink cast safely cocoons the girl’s arm. Her blonde head rests on Katniss’s shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and her little body rises and falls with the deep breathing of sleep.

Katniss continues to sing, unaware of Peeta’s presence. He doesn’t recognize the tune she’s singing. It’s not a Christmas carol, at least not one he’s ever heard before, but he continues to listen, captivated by her voice. It’s soft and decidedly feminine, but there’s raspy undercurrent to it that gives him chills. It’s like the first sip of a rich, smoky bourbon.

Gingerly, he tiptoes towards the bed and stands before her for several more minutes, until Katniss finally lifts her eyes. She immediately stops singing. Peeta smiles and nods towards Ivy.

“Someone is worn out,” he whispers. Katniss’s lips twitch into a chagrinned smile.

“I’m sure the second we get home she’ll be wide awake and it’ll take forever to get her into bed. She was already amped up about Santa Claus before this.” She tips her head and gestures with her chin towards Ivy’s arm.

“Warm milk. With a little bit of cinnamon,” he suggests.

“Really?” Her eyes round. “Cinnamon? That really works?” Disbelief clouds her words. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I have no idea. No kids. And I’ve never had much trouble sleeping. I’m usually asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But I’ve heard from a friend with a toddler that it does the trick.” He waits for her to say something—anything—in response, but she doesn’t. Her gaze is back on the sleeping toddler in her arms.

Watching her stare tenderly at her niece causes something unexpected to claw at Peeta’s chest and he’s overwhelmed by a fierce compulsion to want to keep her here, to get to know more about her. It’s been a long time since he felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman. Why couldn’t he have met her under different circumstances?

“Are we all done, doctor?”

Peeta startles from his thoughts and offers Katniss an apologetic smile.

“Yes, sorry. You are good to go as soon as you sign here—” He holds the clipboard at an angle, to allow her to sign without having to disturb Ivy, “and here.” He flips the sheet back to the second page and she scrawls her name across the line there, too. Normally a nurse would go over discharge papers and protocol with patients, but Peeta had taken it upon himself to grab Ivy’s. He needed to spend every possible minute in Katniss’s presence.

Once the release forms are complete, he review the plan for Ivy’s follow-up care, including how to manage any pain she has and when she’ll need to return to have the cast removed. Katniss listens attentively.

When he’s finished, she stands up slowly, her movements tentative so as not to jostle Ivy. A sigh parts the little girl’s lips and she stirs, but she remains asleep. God, she’s cute, Peeta thinks.

“Thank you, Dr. Mellark,” Katniss says softly. “For everything. I know what you did…” She falters. “I mean, I know we, ah, weren’t next, and ah…” Peeta waves a hand dismissively, sensing her discomfort with his hijacking of the queued patients.

“It was my pleasure,” he replies. “Little girls should be home on Christmas Eve. Waiting for Santa.” He echoes Katniss’s earlier words. “I hope he’s good to her.”

He doesn’t miss the forlorn expression that flits across Katniss’s face as she glances down at her sleeping niece.

“He can’t bring her what she wants most, but he’ll try,” she murmurs and moves towards the open curtain. Just before she steps out into the hall, she pauses and turns to face Peeta.

“Merry Christmas,” she adds.

“Merry Christmas,” he concurs. With a faint smile, she steps around the curtain. It rustles in her wake and resettles. Peeta exhales and slumps against the wall, regret washing through him, followed by a stronger wave of sadness at seeing Katniss go. If it hadn’t been for Ivy, he might have concocted some kind of delay to keep Katniss here longer, found some excuse to pry more information out of her. Like if she’s single. A surge of adrenaline spikes in his blood. He can’t let her go this easily.

He bolts out into the corridor, scanning the bustling hallway for any sign of Katniss and Ivy, but they’ve vanished. Disappointed, his shoulders slump as he trudges towards the nurses’ station to hand off Ivy’s file.

It’s probably best, a nagging little voice inside him taunts, and he reluctantly concedes that it probably is. As much as he’d love to finally shut his mother up and find a woman that he’d want to spend more than a night with, it’s not fair to subject one to the kind of schedule he has to keep. New doctors are low-man-on-the-totem-pole. He’s had mostly graveyard shifts and he’s often on call. It’s his dream to have a pediatric practice, but he’s well aware that he’ll have to toil for a couple of years to get on track to make that dream a reality.

A few minutes later, en route to his next examination, Peeta spies Johanna, one of the triage nurses, coming out of the room Ivy had occupied. His eyes immediately narrow when his gaze lands on her left arm.

“Was that in there?” He motions towards the vacated room and then nods towards the stuffed cat Johanna has wedged under her armpit.

“What, the cat? Yeah. It must have fallen under the bed. I’ll take it to the station, in case someone comes back to claim it.”

Ivy’s cherubic little face flashes in Peeta’s mind. He remember how fiercely she had been clutching that cat, and how she had reluctantly agreed to put it down when it had been time for Delly, another one of the triage nurses, to take her for X-rays.

Peeta’s pulse quickens and he immediately thrusts his hand towards Johanna. “I’ll take it,” he says impulsively. She wrinkles her nose and cocks her head, her hazel eyes intensely scrutinizing him. Though they have a casual friendship, Johanna is far too insightful for her own good. Peeta doesn’t really need her questioning his motives for taking possession of the toy.

“The little girl it belongs to goes to preschool with Max. I’ll make sure he takes it to her after the holiday break.” Fuck, that lie flew off his tongue so easily he almost believes it himself. Johanna shrugs and tosses Peeta the cat.

“Suit yourself. One less thing to overflow the Lost and Found.” She strides past him and disappears into Triage 6. He stares down at the stuffed animal. His heart skips another beat and a slow smile tugs at his mouth.

~*~*~*~

Stifling another yawn, Peeta squints at the numbers above the garage. He’s definitely in the right place. He kills the engine and sits for a moment, glancing at the clock on the navigation system. It’s quarter after nine. Early, but not obscenely so. When his shift had ended at six am, he had driven home and fought the urge to crawl into bed; instead, he grabbed a quick shower and freshened up. True, part of him hadn’t wanted to see Katniss Everdeen again looking like the bedraggled, exhausted mess he was at the end of a rotation, and also true, he was going to have to clean up before he’s due at his parents’ house at one. But he also knew he couldn’t really have shown up at Katniss’s house at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, even if he suspects Ivy likely had her up by then. He recalls, with a wistful smile, that Christmas morning was the one morning he and his brothers were always awake before his father. It was only a question of which Mellark brother was going to be the first to rouse the others. Him being the youngest, it was usually him, he admits with a wider grin.

He quietly exits his car, careful not to slam the door, and gingerly steps across the icy driveway. He pauses at the un-shoveled front walk, where a pristine blanket of snow blocks his path. “Shit,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as he takes the first step. His foot plunges into the deep drift, up to nearly his calf. He braces himself and takes a huge step, hoping to eat up the distance in a few long strides. Fortunately, it’s not a long front walk. He reaches the also un-shoveled front steps and carefully ascends them. He contemplates ringing the doorbell, but instead raps his knuckles against the door. His breath pipes out in white plumes and he rubs his palms together for warmth as he waits.

No one comes to the door, at least not immediately. Peeta lifts his fist again, but just before his knuckles can connect with the wood again, the front door opens a crack and he’s suddenly looking at Katniss. Those silver eyes round almost comically as recognition lights them.

“D-Doctor Mellark? Wh-what are you….”

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” he begins. “I thought Ivy would be missing this.” He smiles and holds up the stuffed cat.

Katniss stares at him, her lips parting faintly, and shock and confusion war on her pretty face. But then her grey eyes darken with what Peeta can only describe as restrained fury.

She opens the door fully and glares at him.

“You had Ivy’s cat?” she accuses.

“Uh…yeah…” he stammers, his own confusion welling. Why is she so angry? “My nephew…he has a bear. Otis. Can’t sleep without that thing. I thought if Ivy is anything like Max…well, she’d be missing this.” He holds the cat out to Katniss. She snatches it so violently that she stumbles backwards. Peeta is equally jarred, but his jolt is from the very brief brush of Katniss’s fingers against his when she had grabbed the toy.

But Katniss gives him no time to revel in the feeling.

“So this is why no one at the hospital had a goddamned clue what I was talking about when I called there looking for this cat an hour ago!” she spits.

Shit, Peeta thinks, an uneasy feeling clawing its way into his gut.

“Why the fuck—” He can’t help but notice her slight hesitation before she lobs the obscenity at him. “—would you take my niece’s cat? Is this something normal people do?” She’s shivering visibly as she rants, a clear consequence of stepping onto her front porch wearing nothing but green plaid pajama pants and a threadbare black Henley shirt.

“I….I…” He shakes his head. He’s not even sure how to defend his actions. He can’t very well tell her his ulterior motives in bringing the stuffed cat back to her niece. Not now. He definitely fucked this up.

“I was just trying to be nice. That I’d save you a trip on Christmas morning,” he finishes lamely.

Katniss’s nostrils flare and her jaw flexes. “Christmas morning,” she mutters, just barely audible over the clattering of her teeth. “Did it occur to you, Dr. Mellark, that I might be looking for Ivy’s cat and I might call the hospital looking for this cat?” She shakes the toy in his face. “And did it occur to you that, in spite of all the toys she had just opened, Ivy might be bawling and throwing a fit because Buttercup was missing?”

Buttercup, he has to assume, is the stuffed cat.

She pauses, as if waiting for him to defend himself, but all he can do is swallow against the lump crowding his throat.

So she continues, “They made me think I was crazy—but not until after they left me on hold for 20 minutes while I tried to calm a wailing toddler. And then they said there was no toy matching this description in the Lost and Found. And that’s because you had it!” Her eyes are a maelstrom now, but he notices that an edge of frustration has crept into her furious tone.

“And now Ivy doesn’t have it. So thank you. Thank you very much, Dr. Mellark. Merry Christmas.” And before Peeta can release the breath he’s been holding during her outburst and plead his case, she whirls around, her disheveled braid lancing through the air like a whip, and slams the door behind her. Stunned, Peeta can only stare at the wreath on the door as he processes what just happened.

What. The. Fuck.

Heart pounding, gut churning, Peeta retreats to his car. He takes a few minutes to absorb the shock of his encounter with Katniss, his mind reeling through the accusations she made. He never would have expected her to react like this. So much for any shot with Katniss Everdeen.

He finally gathers his composure and navigates out of her complex. As he drives, his mind continues replaying Katniss’s words over and over, and he finds one thing nags at him.

And now Ivy doesn’t have it.

Those words don’t make much sense to him. He just gave the stuffed animal back to Katniss. She can give it back to Ivy. She’ll have it now. In her wrath, Katniss just wasn’t being rational, he decides.

But her words continue to haunt him off and on for the rest of the day. Along with persistent images of Katniss that further torment him. She is never far from his conscious thoughts. As he sits down next to the fireplace in his parents’ house with a tumbler of scotch to exchange gifts with his brothers and his nephews, he finds himself wondering who Katniss is celebrating with. Ivy, obviously. But does she have other family?

By the time the Mellarks all settle around the table for dinner, he’s conjured up the notion that Katniss may not be married, but she surely has a devoted boyfriend who is showering her with gifts at this very moment. Her mood is infinitely better than what Peeta witnessed earlier. She’s probably dressed nice for him, and he’s sitting around her dining room table with Katniss and Ivy, like a makeshift family.

His mother’s irritation is palpable when she has to command his attention twice to try and draw him into the discussion centered on Rye’s upcoming wedding. Peeta murmurs the apology he knows she expects and feigns his dutiful brotherly interest for Rye’s benefit the remainder of the meal. But a dull ache has taken up residence in the center of his chest and he realizes just how badly he wants what his brothers have.

He just won’t be having it with Katniss Everdeen.

#everlark #the hunger games #everlark fanfiction #court81981

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angstyaches · 4 years ago

Text

Why Do Bad Things Happen To Hungry People?

This is my first hunger fic in a very long time. How the hell are you supposed to title these things?!

It’s also the first ever fic from the Lucyverse, as I’ve decided to call it (basically, any fics that follow the day-to-day lives of Lucy’s flatmates).

CW: hunger, overworking, getting stuck on public transport.

___

Autumn waved as she entered the coffee shop, flinching as the little bell over the door went off to announce her arrival. She glanced up at it, gesturing with her palm for it to calm down, as though it should have somehow known she wasn’t a real customer. Payton’s heart skipped a beat as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and scampered away to an armchair by the window, not wanting to disturb her partner while they worked.

She was so freaking cute.

“Busy today?”

Payton tore their eyes off the back of Autumn’s head and turned to look at Jake, who had only started his supervisor shift five minutes ago. He was inspecting how much money was in the till as Payton laid out a fresh batch of muffins in the food case. The wafting scents of cinnamon and banana and chocolate were all so enticing that Payton could no longer ignore the fact that they’d had to work through lunch. Going an afternoon without food had left them with an ache in their stomach that had only been aggravated more by the stress of keeping the constant stream of customers satisfied. It had rained unexpectedly all afternoon, which had sent floods of park visitors running for shelter and warm drinks.

“Very,” Payton replied to Jake. “I don’t think we had any free tables for about four hours. We barely had time to wipe them down between customers.”

“Christ,” Jake grumbled, closing the till. “And you managed okay, even though Stephen called in sick?”

Payton gestured around themself, displaying the fact that nothing appeared to have burned down or crumbled. Part of them wanted to complain further about the toll the day had taken on them, but it felt better to just act confident about it. “Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“They should be paying you as a supervisor, you know,” Jake said. “I’ll talk to Anne about interviewing you.”

“Really? That would – that would be really cool.” Payton blushed, partly from the praise from their superior, but mostly because their stomach chose that moment to twist inside of them, releasing a long, rumbling growl. The music in the coffee shop was low and calming at this time of evening, but… maybe it would still muffle the sound?

When Jake double-glanced towards the front of Payton’s apron, it was clear that the music had muffled nothing.

“Sorry.” Payton placed a hand over their belly. “When Stephen couldn’t come, it meant I couldn’t take my lunch break.”

Jake frowned and glanced at his watch. “Your shift started at ten thirty, right? You haven’t had a break since then?”

Payton shook their head.

“Fuck it, go home. I’ll tell Anne you clocked out on time.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, you’ve only got another half-hour anyway, and the place is dead now.” Jake gestured to the room of thirty-six seats, of which only five were currently occupied. “Plus, your girl’s already here. No use in keeping her waiting.”

Payton was already wriggling out of their apron and heading for the door that led to the break room and lockers. “Thank you so much.”

Once they were in the break room, silence crashed over Payton like waves. The shop hadn’t been loud just now by any means, but they hadn’t been away from a din of any kind for almost ten hours. Their ears rang as they put their apron and work shoes in their locker and gulped a half-bottle of water that they found in there. The liquid hit their stomach like a solid lump of rock, but luckily it was lukewarm, and the discomfort didn’t linger for too long.

Payton didn’t linger either.

They tugged their jacket on over their buttoned shirt, wishing they’d brought something with a hood today, in case it decided to rain again before they made it to the tram. Maybe Autumn had thought to bring an umbrella, they reckoned, sighing in premature relief at the thought of her, waiting in the shop for them. They quickly pulled their headband off, brushing their dark bangs downwards and tossing the band into the locker for the next day.

As they pushed back through the door to the coffee shop, Payton felt like their feet had ceased to exist, leaving behind ankles that just floated through the air with a human body propped over them. They saw the back of Autumn’s head near the window, and they smiled to themself, momentarily forgetting the hunger and exhaustion and stress.

“See you tomorrow,” Jake called from behind the till.

Payton shot him a half-hearted salute, never slowing on their beeline to where Autumn was waiting. Well, it was less of a beeline than Payton would have liked; as though to personally inconvenience them, the coffee shop was full of tables and chairs and sofas, which needed to be manoeuvred around.

“Ooh!” Autumn exclaimed as arms snaked around her shoulders from behind the armchair. She dropped her book into her lap and reached up with one hand to tickle the back of Payton’s neck. “Hello, baby. Finished early?”

Payton mumbled an inaudible confirmation against her hair, not caring that they were probably messing up her ponytail. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Autumn said. “A little tired.”

“Me too,” Payton sighed, lifting their head but remaining slumped against the back of the armchair. They felt a gentle cramping in their stomach as they reconsidered their answer. “And hungry.”

“Huh.” Autumn reached up and tapped her book against the top of Payton’s head. The gesture was unnecessarily gentle, as though she’d hit them with something thicker than a paperback print of Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. “Well, luckily for you, I’ve got all the makings of your favourite waiting in your fridge.”

Payton’s stomach clenched again, their heart lifting slightly. It had been tricky to get Lucy to agree to it, but Autumn had her own key to the apartment; not only did she call around to visit Payton so often that she might as well have lived there too, but there were often issues at home that she opted to spend the night away from.

But that wasn’t the point right now.

“Your famous sausage rolls?” Payton sank even harder against the back of the armchair, partly to be dramatic, but partly because their body literally weakened a little at the notion of Autumn’s cooking.

Autumn smiled up at them from the cushions. “Pastry’s already made. Just got to assemble and bake them. I got us some oven chips too. Oh – I forgot to check if you had any beans in the cupboard, though.”

“We’re four college students; of course we’ve got beans in the cupboard,” Payton assured her, loudly enough to disguise the fact that their stomach was growling again as they pictured the dinner they hadn’t known awaited them.

“Excellent point.” Autumn scooped up the strap of her shoulder bag and slipped her book inside. She smoothed down the hem of her pinafore as she stood up. “Ready to go?”

“Way beyond ready,” Payton smiled, watching her scoop up the umbrella that was resting against the arm of the chair.

***

Payton wriggled uncomfortably in a scratchy tram seat, unable to find a relaxed position where they didn’t feel painful pressure building up in their stomach. It was really starting to ache, now that there was nothing to keep Payton’s mind busy. They would have loved nothing more than to be home already, biting into the flaky pastry and warm, soft filling of Autumn’s sausage rolls and finally getting something into their cramping belly.

“You alright, baby? You’re quiet.”

“Am I?” Payton laughed. Their head was spinning just a little, and their voice was starting to sound shaky. “Sorry, I’m just very tired.”

It didn’t feel good to lie to Autumn, even if it was less a lie and more a concealment of the truth. She would never say the words out loud, but Payton knew that she thought of them as a pushover, both in matters at work and at the apartment. There were a lot of aspects of their job that she called unacceptable, and if she’d had her way, they would have quit the coffee shop by now. They had no idea how she would react if they became a shift supervisor and had to take on even more responsibilities, but Payton reckoned that was a discussion for another night when things were a little more certain.

In the meantime, it was best not to say anything about having to skip lunch.

Slipping their hands into the pockets of their open jacket, Payton subtly rubbed their middle, feeling their empty stomach roll around in distress. They tensed and held their breath, hoping to prevent any noises from emerging.

There was a sharp jerking motion as the train slowed to a stop. Autumn gasped lightly and put out a hand to stop herself from sliding forward in her seat. They both looked at each other and held the gaze for a moment before a voice crackled over the tram’s intercom.

“Apologies, folks, it’s just a minor technical issue. Service will resume shortly.”

“Shortly?” Autumn mumbled in annoyance. “Talk about vague...”

“Damn it,” Payton sighed, sinking lower in their seat and pushing their hands deeper into the pockets of their jacket. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

Autumn chuckled; she was still sitting fully upright, leaning towards Payton’s seat as she tried to see up to the top of the tram. “Assumptive of you to refer to yourself as good people.”

“Not me, baby. I was talking about you.”

“Oh. Aw. Thank you.” Autumn smiled and reached out a hand, both to acknowledge Payton and to give herself some balance as she craned her neck.

The hand landed lightly on Payton’s belly, which - in their slumped position - acted as an almost-flat surface for her to lean on as she continued peering up through the carts. She was probably expecting to see tram staff coming through, explaining the situation to the passengers; what she probably wasn’t expecting was to feel rumbling movement beneath her palm, which was accompanied by a loud, pinched growl.

Payton let out a little groan too, turning their face to bury it against Autumn’s shoulder.

“What’s going on, baby?” Autumn half-laughed, her eyes trained on Payton’s stomach as it vibrated under her hand again. She teasingly ran a finger between the buttons in their shirt, gesturing as though to peek under the fabric. “You hiding an angry tiger in there?”

“I told you I was hungry.”

“Yeah, but...” Autumn gasped and rubbed a wide circle across Payton’s belly as it roared again, prompting them to glance around and make sure the seats close to them hadn’t magically filled up with people in the last few seconds.

Autumn, on the other hand, had had her attention drawn away from anything to do with the tram, and towards a particular, grumbling organ. “Baby, what’d you have for lunch?”

Payton groaned again, wriggling a little further down so that their knees were pressed against the seat in front of them. They felt a red blush in their cheeks as Autumn sat back and peered down at their face.

They sighed, eyes trailing down to where Autumn’s hand was still resting on their belly. “The shop was really busy today, and the shift supervisor couldn’t come in, so I ended up working through lunch.”

Payton then held their breath again, both in anticipation of their stomach letting out another whine under Autumn’s palm, and of her response.

“You’re so good, baby.”

Payton raised their eyebrows. “Am I? You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” Autumn sighed. “I obviously don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself properly, but I also wish I had your level of dedication.”

A smile played on Payton’s lips as they nudged the side of their head against Autumn’s waist. “Jake’s gonna see about getting me bumped up to supervisor.”

“And he should,” Autumn laughed, lifting her other hand to sweep Payton’s eyes out of their eyes. “You’re amazing at that job, and no one ever tells you enough.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Autumn leaned down to kiss the side of Payton’s head. “Just promise me that you’ll use your powers as supervisor for good. Like giving yourself lunch breaks.” She gently tapped one finger against Payton’s stomach. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Payton mumbled, burying their face as their chest fluttered. The glow of being praised and worried about lasted only a precious moment though, because there was still an empty belly in the vicinity, and it was determined not to let itself be forgotten in all the chatter.

“You’re mad at Payton though, aren’t you?” Autumn pursed her lips as she spoke to their stomach, as though she was talking to a cat. She patted her hand against Payton’s belly as it grumbled. “That’s okay, I’d be mad too, if my owner spent the day giving yummy food to customers and not me.”

The mention of food sent Payton’s thoughts drifting back towards the dinner that had been promised, and they groaned again, this time nudging their head right into Autumn’s lap. She bit her lip and glanced around at the nearby seats, once more confirming that there was nobody else in the cart.

“Comfy down there?” There was a tiny twist of irony in Autumn’s voice, but her tone was mostly genuine.

“Kind of,” Payton said, using both hands to keep Autumn’s pressed to their aching gut. They glanced up at the grey ceiling of the tram, at the darkness that lay just outside the window, hopelessness welling in their chest as their belly rolled unhappily. “Just so hungry.”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just wish I knew how long we were gonna be stuck here.”

“Me too,” Autumn sighed. “But no matter how long it takes us to get home, I’m still going to cook for you the minute we get in.”

“Mmm.” Payton smiled to themself and closed their eyes, letting go of Autumn’s hand as it began to work slow, gentle circles into their belly through their shirt. “Thank you.”

#hunger #hunger fic #hunger kink #belly kink #stomach kink #stomach noises #stomach rumbling fic #oc hunger fic #lucyverse #lucyverse payton #lucyverse autumn #my OCs #overworked #overworking #hunger whump

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in-class-daydreams · 3 years ago

Text

The Splash Zone - Tsukishima x Reader (Oneshot)

Jurassic World! AUPairing: Son of Park CEO!Tsukishima Kei x Mosasaur Trainer!Reader

- Word Count: ~9,000

- Genres: Fluff, angst

- CW: Mentions of death, objectification of main character, sexual harassment-

Mango’s Introduction: Tsukishima the younger is a bit… prickly. Don’t say that to his face, obviously, because he’s technically your boss, but for all his personality flaws, he’s definitely excellent at his job and he cares more about the people around him than he lets on. He’s snarky with that mosasaur trainer more than anyone else, but you can tell he’s sweet on her. I guess you could call it the adult equivalent of pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground. Uh, don’t tell him I said that, he’s my boss too.

(A/N: For all of you who were interested in this series, y'all waited nearly a year for less than 10,000 words, and I apologize, haha. It's been sitting 95% finished all that time, but I moved onto some other projects because I wasn't confident in my writing abilities. After a year's worth of writing exercises via different projects, I'm now okay with putting this out for all of you. I hope my next few projects (AoT and KnY) knock your socks off, but for now, here's a little journey about following your own convictions, featuring our favorite salty blonde.)

Tsukishima had it all. Money, looks, brains, and sure, his personality could use a little work, but he wasn’t completely insufferable. Most of the time. But if you asked him, his sour attitude was hardly his fault. After all, he was the heir to a multi-trillion dollar theme park, so it’s not like there were any consequences for him talking to people the way he does. For all he cared, he could be as snarky as he liked, considering he didn’t work with many people that were willing to speak their mind to him.

“Bite me, Tsukki.”

Well, except for a certain mosasaur trainer that was really grating on his nerves. Said trainer sat across from him from her seat in his office, arms crossed and jaw tense. Tsukishima tapped his fingers on his desk.

“Are you done throwing a tantrum like a six-year-old?” he asked. (Y/N)’s hands balled in her lap. She kept her mouth shut, glowering at the desk in front of her to keep her temper under wraps.

The blonde rolled his eyes. About fifteen minutes ago, he watched her kick in the door to the employee lounge and make her way over to the mosasaur staff supervisor. All eyes were on her as she moved towards him with murderous intent rolling off of her in waves. While (Y/N) was the one with the most control over the aquatic dinosaur itself, the supervisor was the one who hired staff, had them trained, made their schedules, and completed the other overall administrative duties. Their position was a catch-all and they were meant to do the primary inspections that made the mosasaur shows run properly.

Company policy encouraged open communication between colleagues, of course. Jurassic World Theme Park prided itself on proficient employee cooperation, as per the employee handbook and what the marketing team insists they say. Tsukishima just wished (Y/N) had opened her statement with something a smidge more polite than, “Are there any grooves in your fucking brain or is it all just smooth in there?”

After that hell of a conversation starter, she and the supervisor verbally ripped into each other. If Kei hadn’t grabbed (Y/N) by the windbreaker and dragged her into his office, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they ended up ripping into each other physically, too. To her credit, (Y/N) most definitely won, but that would have been a bigger pain in his ass.

“(Y/N), you can’t speak like that to people you work with. I heard what you said about him keeping an eye on his interns, and that’s his business, not yours,” he sighed. It was too early for this crap, especially since his assistant called in sick and hadn’t made him his morning coffee, and there were a million things to do in preparation for the board meeting today. He had better things to do than settle this stupid argument.

(Y/N) looked at him with disbelief, “You think I went in there to yell at him for fun? You have no idea what happened, Kei, how are you already taking his side?”

Tsukishima looked into her fiery gaze for a moment. He leaned back, brushing down the front of his navy blue button-down.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what you said,” she shot back.

He pursed his lips. “Alright, I’m sorry,” he muttered.

(Y/N)’s mouth dropped for a moment, then the corner quirked up ever-so-slightly, “What was that, Tsukki?”

“Just explain before I lose my patience,” he snapped. His ears felt hot.

She laughed, “Because you’re the picture of patience right now.”

“(Y/N).”

Although the anger in her posture returned, she was able to remain more composed than she had earlier.

“One of the interns came up to me about an hour ago to ask me about the coding for the hydraulic lift.” (Y/N) threw her hands up and leaned back in her chair, as if that was the answer to everything.

“I’ll need some more details than that.”

She groaned in frustration, “There’s the mosasaur tank and the stadium

surrounding it, yeah? And partway through the show, the hydraulic lift lowers the stadium to the underground viewing area, right? Well, for all that to happen, the codes on the control panel have to be specific,” her hands moved fervently as she got deeper into her explanation. “The codes never change, but every morning, the supervisor makes sure they’re correct and I double check before the show. If the codes are incorrect, the stadium might lift too fast, too slow, too much, or not at all.”

Kei nodded for her to continue, to which she gave a grateful nod before going back into rant mode.

“Interns don’t have clearance into that area. He gave her his fucking badge so she could go in and do the checks without him. She shouldn’t have been down there and she definitely shouldn’t have been checking the control panel. Look,” she ran a hand through her hair, “I don’t want to tell the guy how to do his job. If he wants to train the interns how to run the control panel, then fine, it’s not in my job description to police that. But that brand-new, inexperienced, fresh-out-of-college kid was all by herself down there doing that idiot’s job. She could have gotten hurt. She could have gotten other people hurt. It was her supervisor’s job to train her better and to take better care of his interns and if I don’t raise hell about this kind of stuff now, then who will? So fuck that guy, he deserved to get yelled at.”

(Y/N) heaved herself out of her chair, “And now that everyone thinks I’m a raving lunatic, I’m going back to my office to change. Try not to need me.”

As the son of the owner of Jurassic World Theme Park, Tsukishima Kei was raised to do two things: work with dinosaurs and obey his father. When he was younger, he thought he would get to work with the dinosaurs as a trainer, regulate their feeding schedules, train them, and educate the masses about the wonders of science. But he was wrong. The future his father had in store for him involved dinosaurs, yes, but more along the lines of determining the cost of developing a new dinosaur or what characteristics are interesting to the general public so that the park can turn a profit.

Several years ago, when his father originally had her brought to the island, Kei had been skeptical. Out of all the candidates for the mosasaur trainer, (Y/N) had been particularly young, but for some reason, his father was insistent that the new mosasaur trainer be her. (Y/N) later proved and continued to prove that she wasn’t just qualified, but born to work with the mosasaur, Dolly, she called her. She cared for her with a deep passion that transcended interspecies boundaries.

(Y/N) was amazing at her job, and it was unfair of Tsukishima not to hear her out initially. There was a fine line between teasing as a result of mutual pining and just being a dick, and it seemed like Kei had crossed that line.

(Y/N) knew he was coming. That was one of the things she really appreciated about Tsukishima. He was a snarky asshole who liked to rile her up, and in the beginning, he was garbage at apologies, but over time, they’d apologized to each other so often that he no longer dragged ass over it. Once he realized he was in the wrong, he would find her immediately.

Tsukishima let himself into (Y/N)’s office, where he found her and the raptor trainer in deep conversation.

“Kei! Seriously, I could’ve been changing!” she yelled. She’d told him a million times to knock before coming in, but he rarely listened.

“Don’t worry, even if you were, there’s nothing to see,” he said teasingly.

(Y/N) scowled, “You wouldn’t know.”

Tsukishima scoffed.

“Anyway, Hajime, what else did that guy say?” (Y/N) said.

Kei frowned at the two cups from Tiki Smoothie in front of them. He wondered if Iwaizumi had brought her one as a surprise or if she’d asked him to bring her one. Both possibilities put him in a bad mood. Supposedly, they were just close friends, but (Y/N) forced him to watch enough Hallmark movies for him to know the friends-to-lovers trope quite well. It ranked just below childhood friends-to-lovers and just above enemies-to-lovers. He must have been staring at those cups for some time, because by the time he zoned back in, Iwaizumi had already finished his explanation.

“--train the raptors for the battlefield,” Iwaizumi finished.

(Y/N) raised an irritated brow, “Like dogs?”

The raptor trainer shrugged, “Apparently.”

“Did you tell him that’s not how raptors work?” she asked.

“I didn’t bother. He-- Sorry,” Iwaizumi fished his ringing flip phone from his vest pocket. “I gotta go, (Y/N), I’ll tell you more at dinner later,” he said on his way out the door.

“Okay, but I wanna hear about your thing with that pretty P.O. Manager later!”

The taller man stopped and gripped the door frame in surprise.

“Wha-- There’s no ‘thing’!” Iwaizumi sputtered.

“Whatever keeps your blood pressure normal."

As (Y/N) waved her friend off, Tsukishima rested his weight on the back of the vacated chair.

“What was that all about?”

(Y/N) sighed, making her way over to the wardrobe next to the door.

“Some military guy had a talk with Hajime about using the raptors for war. He said they’re better than drones because they’re not hackable and blah blah blah.”

“Does he realize that-- what are you doing?!” Tsukishima choked when (Y/N) dropped her loose gym shorts. Underneath, she wore plain navy blue bikini bottoms.

“Relax, Kei, you’re the one who invited yourself into my office. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen a girl’s bare legs, right?” she teased as she stepped into her dive skin. The tall young man moved to sit behind the desk. Forcing down his blush, he took on a snarky tone once again.

“Obviously. I didn’t think you had time for that kind of thing, since you’ve been cooped up with Darby for the last few years.”

(Y/N) shook her wetsuit at him, “Her name is Dolly! It’s always been Dolly and you know it, you little shit!”

“Language, (Y/N),” he smirked. What would my father say if he knew you spoke to me like that?”

“Oh, trust me, Malfoy, your father knows exactly how I speak to you, and he couldn't care less,” she snarked, looking pleased with herself..

The teasing glint in Tsukishima’s eyes wavered at the comment, though he knew they shouldn’t have. ‘Don’t dish it if you can’t take it’ he always said. He knew his father loved him the way any man loves his son, but Kei’s rank in his father’s heart in relation to money had always been questionable.

“Sorry. Too much,” (Y/N) said quietly. She pulled up her dive skin and removed her windbreaker, revealing a matching bikini top.

“It’s not your fault,” the blonde mumbled back. (Y/N) made her way around the desk. Leaning her weight on the edge facing him, she said, “Really, I’m sorry. That was in bad taste.”

Tsukishima waved dismissively, “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it. Just caught me off guard… Actually, I came to apologize to you for earlier.”

She grimaced, “I’m sorry for freaking out so hard. I didn’t mean to make trouble for you the same day as a shareholders’ meeting.”

“You’d be okay with making trouble for me normally?”

“That a serious question?”

With a light chuckle he said, “Right, right. It’s fine... I’m sorry for not

hearing you out. For what it’s worth, that guy is as good as fired.”

“Fired!?” she yelped, making him jump. “Wait, you can’t fire him!”

“Actually, I can--”

“Fine. As his boss, you legally could fire him, but I’m saying don’t. One, we can easily get him to clean up his act. Two, his wife is preggers. Gregnant. Pregante.”

“I got it the first time.”

“Just making sure.”

Tsukishima huffed, holding back a smile, “Worrying about someone whose head you were about to bite off two hours ago. That’s just like you.”

There was a gentle knock at the door and Yamaguchi, a paleo-veterinary intern, poked his head through the doorway.

“(Y/N), are you ready for the show? We have 20 minutes until start time,” he informed her with a sweet smile.

“Yup!” She stuffed her arms through the tight neoprene sleeves, “Are you the specialist on standby this time, Yama?”

The shorter girl turned around and moved her hair to the side in a silent request. Standing to his full height, Tsukishima pinched the sides of her zipper with one hand and pulled the tab up with.

Yamaguchi couldn’t help but laugh. His two friends stopped, (Y/N) with her hands holding up her hair, Tsukishima with his hands tugging on her suit zipper.

“What’s so funny?” his childhood friend asked. Yamaguchi just shook his head and confirmed that, yes, he would be on medical standby for the upcoming show.

“Close the door when you leave, okay, Tsukki?” (Y/N) shot over her shoulder on the way out.

“Good luck with your show,” he said simply. She frowned in confusion. Before she could comment, Yamaguchi rushed her out the door.

“--near the surface of the water, where it preyed on anything it could sink its teeth into, including turtles, small fish, even smaller mosasaurs, but don’t worry, that’s not why Dolly here doesn’t have any siblings.”

The crowd chuckled. Tsukishima always enjoyed when (Y/N) did the demonstrations herself. The guides did the jobs they were contracted to do, and maybe it was that he already knew how much she loved Dolly, but whenever (Y/N) did it, it always felt less like a show and more like the introduction of a close friend of hers. That was the truth, after all.

“You see, when Dolly was born, I was the first thing she saw. This caused something called imprinting, and if I just made you think about that freaky Twilight baby, I’m so sorry.”

Another wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. “And what that means is, Dolly and I share a special bond. She feels a special connection to me that she doesn’t feel for any other creature on this planet. When she was growing up, we communicated with this,” she held up a silver whistle.

“You can’t hear these sounds, but Dolly can. She knows the sound of the whistle, and that makes her think, ‘Oh, that’s my handler! Yay, she’s gonna feed me!’ Which is something I thought whenever my mom called my name during my teenage years.”

“She’s entertaining, isn’t she?” one of his father’s associates commented. Rather than sitting in the wide open arena seats under the beating sun, Kei’s father, the elder Tsukishima, sat up in an air-conditioned glass box high above the regular seats. Today, a group of shareholders and potential investors were performing their monthly assessment of the park’s assets. After going to every single one of these meetings since he was twelve, Tsukishima was more or less used to these meetings, but he was getting irked by the way a particularly sweaty, sleazy-looking businessman two and a half times his age was staring not at the tank itself, but at the trainer on the platform above it. If it weren’t for his father, he would have nastily told all of them to never take even a single breath in her direction.

“The girl’s gotten real grown up since we first saw her,” the man said, rubbing his chin.

‘Don’t look at her like that,’ Kei growled internally.

“Good eye, Yamada-san. She just turned twenty-one,” his father replied.

‘But that doesn’t concern you,’ Kei thought.

“Really? She looks young, but she seems so mature for her age,” another dirty businessman observed.

“You always did like the young-looking ones, you creepy old man!” laughed Yamada. Tsukishima bit down on his tongue so hard he had to remind himself not to bite it off.

“Ah, yes, I took her age into account from the get-go,” Tsukishima-san said. “By nature, the mosasaurus would only accept one trainer, and I brought her to the island at such a young and impressionable age that she would only listen to me.”

“And then you have a safe way to control the dinosaur,” one of the shareholders concluded.

“Exactly. And you’re right, Yamada-san, she’s grown up to be quite attractive. Shame she ended up so strong-willed, else she might have made a quality match for my son. Perhaps if Kei here can reel her in, he’ll make a wife out of her yet, right, son?”

The younger Tsukishima’s skin crawled as every pair of eyes in the room landed on him. He could just imagine opening his mouth and ripping them all a new one. What would Yamada say if he called him out on his predatory behavior? Or he could say, ‘Ah, Mr. Kawasaki, how’s that custody battle with your wife going? I hear she’s winning because the kids would rather live with her. Oh, Chairman Yang, I didn’t see you there! Have you beaten that nasty gambling addiction of yours? Goodness, from the looks of those eye bags and how badly your ‘designer’ suit is frayed, my guess is no.”

But Kei can’t say any of those things. He has too much to lose, should he compromise his position as his father’s heir and future CEO. The blonde glanced briefly out the window at the smiling girl talking animatedly about her most treasured friend. He mentally sends her an apology for being unable to defend her yet again.

Kei grit his teeth and finally replies.

“Yes, father.”

If he were born as anyone else, he could romance her properly, instead of passing glances, not-so-subtle flirting, and raging sexual tension. They wouldn’t have had to play the whole ‘will we or won’t we?’ schtick. But he was still Tsukishima Kei. He was destined to take over his father’s company, and by design, his partner would have to attend board meetings and brunches and wine and cheese parties. Kei had no desire to drag (Y/N) into that kind of life, but what’s more, (Y/N) would never agree to it. At one time, he considered asking her about it. Ask her to consider making that sacrifice for him. But at the end of the day, he never did bring it up to her because he was scared of the answer he’d receive.

Her enthusiastic voice faded back into his consciousness, “Enough of me talking. Is everyone ready to meet Dolly?”

They all turned back to the window at the sound of (Y/N)’s voice.

The crowd cheered in affirmation.

“What was that? I can’t hear you?”

The cheers transitioned into a deafening roar.

“Alright, for those of you in the splash zone, expect to get soaked in about ten seconds and counting.”

(Y/N) pressed a button, and the feeder crane slowly moved to dangle a heavy shark over the mosasaurus tank. The trainer leaned against her platform’s railing. She put the whistle to her lips, but no one heard any sound.

“You hungry, girl?” she asked the tank. There was no prior indication of any movement before the leviathan reptilian dinosaur leapt out of the water and easily snatched up its prey with its rows of hundreds of teeth. Its great mass seemed to linger midair for what felt like forever before sliding back into the water with a giant splash that had the crowd squealing with delight.

“Hold on tight,” (Y/N) spoke up as the stands started lowering under the stadium, “We’re gonna get to take a little closer look at our girl, Dolly the Mosasaurus.”

“How was your meeting?” (Y/N) asked upon her arrival in Tsukishima’s own office, finally free of her restricting wetsuit and hair still wet from her shower. Not looking up from his paperwork, the blonde grunted, “Fine.”

(Y/N) smiled and sat on the edge of the desk beside him. Both hands came up to zip her windbreaker.

“That bad, huh?”

“You sit in a glass box for 45 minutes with a group of men over fifty, and tell me you had fun,” he grumbled. Giving him a sympathetic look, she slid off the desk to place her hands on his shoulders. She gently massaged the tension from them. Lately, Tsukishima Senior had been giving his son more responsibility to “prepare him to take over the company,” which would have been a more believable excuse if the older man wasn’t relaxing by the pool and golfing with his friends 4 days a week. Kei leaned into her touch.

‘You are nothing like your father, though, Kei,’ she internally mused. Dragging her hands down from his shoulders to clasp in front of him, she hugged him from behind. Soothed by her presence, he wondered if he even needed to tell her how he felt about her. It seemed like she already suspected. Though, if she already knew and wasn’t saying anything, what exactly were her feelings on the matter?

“Today was so tiring, Tsukki,” she rested her chin on top of his blonde head. “This family was asking me questions, but their two irritating ass kids kept climbing on the primary railings, and the mom got mad at me when I told them to knock it off! Like, do you want your kids to get chomped by a genetically engineered dinosaur, Brenda? Then, she asked for my manager, and I’m like, ‘Bitch, I will literally throw you in the damn tank! There, that’s my manager, you entitled piece of-- ughhh!!” (Y/N) buried her face in Tsukishima’s shoulder in frustration. “I hate customer service! Fuck her! Fuck them kids!”

“You said that to her?” he teased. Secretly, he was happy that she was tired today. A Tired (Y/N) meant a Sweet (Y/N), and after those creeps were leering at her in the box today, he was just glad she was somewhere he could keep an eye on her.

“Suck my dick, Kei, you know I wouldn’t actually say that. I still enjoy getting paychecks,” her words were muffled by his shoulder. ‘Sweet’ is a relative term for her.

“I’d pay good money to see you cuss someone out.”

“You would, wouldn’t you,” she replied.

Tsukishima desperately wanted to tell her how he felt. It was getting really irritating that they could do stuff like this, but he couldn’t tell those sweaty old men in the box today to keep their perverted stares off of her.

Tentatively, he turned his head towards her, lips ghosting along her jawline. His heart sped up as her fingers tightened into his dress shirt.

When his arm slid around her waist, she was like putty in his hands.

“You-- You’re kinda giving me mixed signals here, Kei,” she said breathlessly. The taller male placed his forehead against hers. His eyes stared down at her lips as he debated the long-term consequences of giving into his desires.

“I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) brought her hand up to cup his face. They both leaned in slowly, as if moving any faster would ruin the tension.

“Don’t be…” she whispered.

The office door slammed open with a bang.

“Sir?” (Y/N) jumped back from him like she’d been burned.

“What?” he snapped at the intruder.

“Your father wants you and Miss (L/N) in a meeting right away.”

“Tsukishima-san, I don’t see why--”

“Of course you don’t, (Y/N),” Kei’s father cut her off, “You have a personal connection with the animal. That was the one oversight I made when I brought you to the island as a trainer.”

They sat in a boardroom, surrounding a large table with Tsukishima senior at one end, (Y/N) at the other, and the board members on either side. The blazing sunlight of Isla Nublar that shone in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the room contrasted heavily with the dark tension permeating throughout the room. Kei tapped his fingers against the table from his spot on his father’s right side.

Of all the ‘strategic investments’ his father made, this was definitely not one Kei could have predicted.

The girl took a deep breath, “With all due respect, sir, it can’t be a good idea to reinvent a new species of mosasaur. I think--”

“See, that’s the problem, sweetheart,” the sweaty man from before chimed in. “You’re not here to think, you’re here to look pretty, and to tell the dinosaur what to do.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Yamada.”

“I don’t appreciate your attitude, little girl,” he shot back.

Tsukishima Senior cut in, “Try to understand, (Y/N). The Indominus Rex has been a huge hit. The numbers say that these new hybrid dinosaurs are the next big thing. We can’t pass up an astronomical amount of money just so you can keep your pet.”

“My pet?” (Y/N) spat.

“Now, (Y/N), there’s no need to get hysterical.”

“Hysterical? My reaction is perfectly reasonable considering you want to euthanize the creature I’ve raised since birth, which, may I remind you, is something you people wanted me to do.”

“Doctor Wu and the rest of the genetics team is already engineering the genetics for a new mosasaur. Bigger, more teeth--”

“But they couldn’t engineer any more brain cells for all of you?!” she interjected.

“That’s enough!” CEO Tsukishima slammed his hand on the meeting table. “You’re like a daughter to me, (Y/N), but I won’t take this level of disrespect from you.”

(Y/N) rested her hands atop the table and leaned in, meeting his glare head-on.

“If you want to do anything to Dolly, you’ll need my help, and I will not do anything that can compromise her.”

“What a mouthy little thing,” one of the shareholders muttered.

“Give her to me, I’ll shut her up,” another said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Tsukishima took a deep, stabilizing breath from beside his father.

“I chose you because I saw something in you. I never expected you to be this selfish,” the elder snapped, “You’re being unreasonable. Kei is barely older than you, and he understands that there’s profit to be made by replacing the damn dinosaur. Tell her, Kei.”

The room went silent. (Y/N) stared deeply into her friend’s golden brown eyes.

‘Don’t do this, Kei. They want you to become your father, but you are not your father. You are so much more.’

The younger Tsukishima felt like he was being crushed by an incredible weight. Whatever he did now, it would be nearly impossible to take back. If he chose her, his father may never forgive him. The problem was: If he chose his place as his father’s heir, would he ruin his relationship with (Y/N) forever? Which one of them could he live without? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. His steady gaze met with (Y/N)’s intense stare. He hoped he sounded more sure than he felt.

“Yes, (Y/N). My father’s right.”

(Y/N) first looked surprised, then immensely disappointed. Realizing there was no one on her side, she sighed.

“I came to this island because I thought this company might be different. When you asked me to train the mosasaurus from birth, I was overjoyed at how much you cared for her development,” she made sure to stare into the soul of each and every dirty scoundrel in the room. “But I made a mistake, too. All of you are cowards. Selfish, soulless, money-grubbing cowards.” Blazing eyes finally landed on Kei’s wide golden brown ones. She aimed her final statement at him.

“Every last one of you.”

Kei’s heart squeezed so hard he thought his chest would collapse.

“Tsukishima-san!” a mousey-looking secretary burst into the boardroom. CEO Tsukishima clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“What is it now?” he snapped.

“It’s the Indominus! She’s escaped!”

Deafening alarms and flashing red lights resounded throughout the control room. Kei could barely hear his father barking orders to the security team. One of the technicians pulled up a giant map of the park on the main screen.

“She’s still on the outer edges of the park, but she’s moving fast, sir,” they said.

“Have the Asset Containment Unit get this thing under control. Make sure they use non-lethals.”

“Non-lethals!” (Y/N) yelled, outraged.

“We have 26 million dollars invested in that asset,” the elder Tsukishima growled.

Exasperated, (Y/N) threw her hands in the air. She avoided Kei’s eyes as she

turned and sprinted out of the control room.

Kei hesitated. Before he could chase after her, his father ordered him to stay put to help in the control room. Though it made him feel like he wanted to vomit, he obeyed.

Several hours passed and Tsukishima’s mind felt like it was at its breaking point. The monitors flashing red in the dimly lit control room strained his eyes to the point where he was convinced he’d need a stronger prescription after this. The beeping of the ACU team’s EKG monitors flatlining rang in his ears so loud he wished he would just go deaf. The Indominus was picking off their security team with ease, sometimes several members at a time. The young man rubbed at his temples.

“Tsukishima, we’re evacuating the rides on the outer edges at the park,” the lead Park Operations Assistant slid a map over to him. Taking a red marker, she circled a few attractions directly in the escaped dinosaur’s projected path.

“But I think these preparations insufficient,” she said, nervously twisting

the pen in her grip.

“We’d evacuate the whole park if it were up to me,” Tsukishima said under

his breath.

The assistant pursed her lips, “It’s a shame we’ll definitely be shut down

after this. You would have made a great CEO.”

“Are you flirting with me?” the blonde joked.

“Please, you’re so whipped for (Y/N) it hurts to look at you,” the assistant snorted in reply.

Before Tsukishima could make a snarky retort, both of their attentions were drawn to CEO Tsukishima, who had a large, middle aged man at his side.

“Kei, come over here!” the older man called.

Tsukishima handed the map back over to the assistant, “This is fine for now. If the situation escalates or if it doesn’t improve in an hour or so, close all the attractions on the west side of the park. I’ll be right back.”

The assistant grabbed his arm, “Tsukishima, that’s Vic Hoskins, the head of the private security force.”

“My father introduced us not long ago. What about him?”

“Commander Hoskins isn’t just a brute, he’s an ignorant one, and that makes him dangerous. If your father is listening to him, be careful.”

Tsukishima nodded gratefully.

“I will. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t wait for the assistant’s reply before making his way to his father’s side, who pulled him off to the side. Hoskins had apparently taken his leave.

“The helicopter will be here in 10 minutes, make sure you’re at the helipad by then,” he told his son.

The younger Tsukishima’s eyes widened.

“What? Where are we going?” he asked.

His father turned to him, “Commander Hoskins has strongly advised us to get off the island. We can do our part in containing this crisis remotely.”

The younger man blanched, “We’re just going to leave? We still have people to evacuate, not to mention medical teams to coordinate, personnel to--”

CEO Tsukishima placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “We can do all of these things remotely. Our first priority is maintaining our safety, and besides, the situation is in good hands with our employees here. It’s as good as contained.”

The CEO smiled and turned to leave. Kei didn’t move.

“Come on, Kei,” the older man urged.

Tsukishima took a deep breath.

“If the situation is ‘as good as contained,’ then why are we leaving the island?” he asked.

His father sighed, “I understand your concern, Kei, this is a safety issue--”

“So, you agree? You do think that evacuation is the correct safety measure?” Kei looked his father directly in his familiar amber eyes.

The elder shifted, “What are you implying, Kei?”

“I’m saying as long as we choose not to actively evacuate the island, we have a responsibility to our employees and to our guests to stay and control the situation the best we can.”

The flatlining EKG monitors were still ringing in his ears. If he left the island now, he’d never stop hearing the beeping of those monitors. They’d exist in his nightmares forever.

“Stay here, then, Kei,” his father’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

He raised a brow, “Just me?”

“There’s no point to being in power if you refuse to reap the benefits of it. The helicopter is leaving soon. Join me, Kei. Don’t try to play hero when you’re not.”

(Y/N)’s face flashed in his mind. He couldn’t be sure where she ran off to after she left, but if he had to guess, it would have been to the main hall or to the infirmary to care for guests. Either way, she’d never dream of leaving the island with so much at stake. Neither could he, and the thought of leaving her behind made his answer clear.

“No, I’m not going. Have a safe flight.” He turned on his heel and marched back to the central console. To his horror, Asset Containment Unit Alpha had been almost entirely wiped out. Only 4 members of a 12-person team remained.

“They’re not gonna make it, Tsukishima, we need to tell them to pull back,” the P.O. Assistant insisted.

He nodded, “Do it.”

The woman quickly gave the order. “Has your father finally--”

“My father is vacating the island with the board members and other investors as we speak,” Tsukishima said.

“Why am I not--” the assistant’s phone went off. “Hello? ...You what?”

“What happened?”

She snapped her phone shut, “It’s--it’s Takeru, my nephew. He was visiting the park today, but my assistant says he got separated from her, and-- and--”

“Hey,” he grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t freak out. It’s not like you, and it won’t help.”

“You’re right,” she said shakily, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “I know I have work to do here, but I have to go find him, Tsukishima. I can’t--”

“I get it. Just go.”

The assistant nodded gratefully, sprinting out of the board room. As she

left, yet another assistant came for his attention and he was plunged back into the thick of things.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) stood at the doors of the underground lab. Her eyes were wild and her face flushed from exertion. The pristine, white lab was a stark contrast to the sweaty, panicked mob she passed by on her way here. It was as if the panic of the Indominus’s escape had no effect, save for the swarm of people in lab coats quickly packing up their equipment into thick armored suitcases. With the move in full swing, the lab doors were set wide open. In the chaos, she managed to slip into one of the adjoining storage rooms, where she found a large computer monitor. The bright blue screen was blinding in the dimly lit room. A profile displayed on the screen read “Indominus Rex.”

The young woman scrolled down the profile. She had to find out what the dinosaur was made of. The ACU would never survive without that information. They may not even survive with it. Finally, under the section titled “Genetic Makeup”, she found what she’s looking for. Before she could react to her findings, there was a sharp pain in the skill and she dropped to the ground unconscious.

Back in the control room, Kei gripped his cell phone tightly. Eighteen missed calls and (Y/N) still wouldn’t pick up. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He had a tech trace her cellphone and he hastily exited the room.

Once he left the building, Kei was greeted with what he expected hell looked like. There was a swarm of panicked park guests, sweaty and fearful. Several were injured from the sudden panic. Some had a haunted look in their eye that suggested they’d seen something that would haunt their nightmares for years to come. And where was his father? Safe on a helicopter, leaving all these people to fend for themselves simply because he could.

Kei was disgusted with himself. The Indominus had escaped hours ago. All this chaos could have been avoided by simply evacuating the park. But who cared about people’s lives when there was still profit to be made? Sure, he hadn’t actively supported his father’s selfishness, but he definitely didn’t object to it either. In all his indecision, ultimately, he was siding with his father. He was equally to blame for all this.

As Kei entered the underground tunnels, the screaming and cries of the panicked went silent. He realized he could hide away in the tunnels until the situation had blown over. Instead, Kei chose to press forward, knowing it wasn’t fair that he had that luxury.

The Mosasaur Stadium sat in the middle of the underground tunnels. From his view from the glass, Dolly, like her trainer, was nowhere to be found.

By the time Kei made it to the lab, it had been picked clean of equipment and personnel. All that remained were sterilized lab benches and pristine white walls. He found (Y/N) on the floor of an empty storage room. There was a nasty gash in the back of her head.

Kei kneeled and gently put two fingers to her pulse.

“Wake up!” he snapped at her. To his relief, her eyelids fluttered open. “Thank god. What the hell were you doing down here?”

“Ouch, my head,” she moaned. “I thought… the ACU… If they knew what the Indominus was made of…”

Kei nodded in understanding. He removed his tie to apply pressure to her wound.

“And? What is it?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“I dunno. I think they hit me right as I saw.”

(Y/N) sat up, slowly regaining her strength.

“How much of the park has been evacuated?” she asked.

Kei checked his messages, “Almost everyone has been moved to secure locations or off the island completely.”

“What’s left?”

“The control room.”

She looked at him meaningfully and he nodded in agreement. Quickly dialing a number, he raised the phone to his ear.

“Evacuate the control room,” he said.

“Sir, are you sure?” the voice on the other end replied.

“Positive. I’ll take care of everything when I get there,” Kei reassured.

“...take care, sir,” the voice said reluctantly.

“You too.” Tsukishima ended the call and looked at (Y/N), who was already standing. She steadied herself against a wall, her balance wavered slightly, but her eyes were resolute.

“Let’s see what we can do.”

The underground tunnels were expansive. As the mosasaur trainer stalked down the hall ahead of him, Kei forced himself to speak up.

“I couldn’t, you know,” Tsukishima said.

“If you have to talk to me, say shit that makes sense,” (Y/N) snapped.

“My father. He wanted me to evacuate with him, but--”

“What? You could’ve gotten out of here! Do you have any idea how hard shit’s hit the fan?”

“I needed to know you were okay.”

(Y/N)’s expression softened for just a moment, then she ripped her gaze from his face. She retorted, “Why? You don’t seem to have a problem with hanging me out to dry.”

“(Y/N), I was--”

“Would you have left if not for me?” she demanded, stopping and facing him with her arms crossed.

It took Kei a minute to find an honest answer.

“No. I wouldn’t have. I’m rich, I’m an asshole, but I wouldn’t have left all these people. Not when I have the kind of clearance to help them, and especially not since all this is my fault.”

(Y/N) looked at him, bewildered.

“Your fault? How on Earth is this your fault?”

Kei shrugged, “I knew evacuation was the only safe bet, but I was too much of a coward to tell my father so. At least my father is blinded by money. Me, I don’t have an excuse.”

(Y/N) walked on silently for a while, opening her mouth a few times to speak, but shutting it each time. Eventually, she gave into the silence.

They came to the underground stadium, where the massive fiberglass panes housed the park’s biggest attraction.

(Y/N) placed her hand on the glass.

“Dolly… You okay, girl?”

Something enormous splashed into the water. When the bubbles cleared, there was Dolly, swimming around the bitten carcass of a pterosaur, as if she was celebrating her catch. The reptile’s handler smiled weakly.

“Good girl.”

“(Y/N).”

Tsukishima took her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. His tired eyes met hers. The blonde watched as the only person who really mattered to him glared back with a look of sadness, frustration, and betrayal.

“You would have supported them?” she asked sharply.”

“Look, I’ve been trained to follow orders my whole life--”

“And I’m sorry for that. But you can unlearn what you’ve been taught, Kei. You know how much I love Dolly! You knew, and-- and,” she gripped his shirt. The trainer hung her head in defeat.

“I thought you weren’t like your father.”

“I’m not, I promise. I’m sorry,” he whispered. This was it. He had to tell her. If he didn’t do it now, he never would.

“(Y/N), I lo--”

“No!”

Kei looked stunned, “No?”

“No! Dammit, Kei, I can’t do this with you right now. First, this is not the time. Second, you stabbed me in the back, like, two hours ago!

“I said I was sorry!”

“I get that, Kei, but for important shit like this, sorry just isn’t good enough, okay? Now, let’s get to the control room and get this dinosaur under wraps, then maybe we can have this conversation.”

Tsukishima pursed his lips, “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

(Y/N) kept walking down the corridor, “Don’t be. Let’s just deal with the situation at hand.” The trainer produced a flip phone from her pocket. The person she was calling picked up on the third ring and she put the call on speaker.

“(Y/N)!” the familiar voice called in relief.

“Yama! You’re still doing okay?” she asked. The line went quiet for a while,

“Yams?” Another pause before the intern responded, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She and Tsukishima looked at each other, “Yama, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt, I just… Oh god, (Y/N), it’s Hinata,” Yamaguchi’s voice

cracked at the end.

(Y/N)’s breath caught in her throat, “What happened to Hinata?”

On the other end, she could hear Yamaguchi choking back a sob.

“He went to the aviary to check for survivors and I saw his vitals monitor. He’s flatlined, (Y/N), he’s dead.”

Tsukishima closed his eyes. The whole situation was snowballing so damn fast and there was so little anyone could do about it.

“No…” (Y/N) whispered, “Jesus, I’m sorry, Yama.”

“Me too,” he replied. Yamaguchi sniffled, then his voice stabilized, “Anyway, keep making your way to the control room. I’ll get into the database somehow and we’ll figure out how to stop this thing.”

“Got it. Please be-- ...careful,” she said softly.

“(Y/N)?”

She clutched her head, “It’s coming back to me now… Yamaguchi! The Indominus! I saw it on the database, could it be part raptor?”

On the other side, Yamagichi gasped, “They never let me see the file, but now that I think about it, it’s highly likely! I’ll contact Iwaizumi and see if there’s anything he can help with! Let me know if anything changes!”

“I will. Please be careful,” she begged.

“I will, and you, too, (Y/N). Tell Tsukki I love him.”

“I love you, too, Yamaguchi,” Kei replied. With that, the call clicked off.

(Y/N) inhaled deeply, “Hinata’s dead.”

“I heard.”

She shook her head, “Let’s just keep moving. I--”

Her eyes fixed on the tank where Dolly had just leapt out of the water for prey again. Bubbles flooded their view as the massive dinosaur crashed back down into her tank. (Y/N)’s mouth dropped open.

“Holy shit.”

“What is it?”

(Y/N) started sprinting down the corridor towards the control room, “I have an idea!”

‘You better know what you’re doing, (Y/N),’ Tsukishima thought. He paced the floor of the control room nervously as he waited for the signal.

Their plan was well underway, and it had gone surprisingly well, which was all the more reason for him to feel like something was going to go horribly wrong.

When (Y/N) originally told him what the plan was, his response was, “Fuck no,” but after Yamaguchi and Iwaizumi both agreed that it was their best bet, Kei relented, though not without voicing his displeasure extensively.

That girl was really lucky he L-worded her. Through the security monitors, he could see the T-Rex and the Raptors were tag-teaming the Indominus. They seemed to be making progress, but the whole group looked like they were losing steam.

The radio beside him crackled to life, making him jump.

“Kei? Can you hear me?” (Y/N)’s voice came through the machine.

“Loud and clear.”

“Okay, on my signal, cut the power to Security Fence 4.”

The button was red, marked with bold black letters, and had a plexiglass case over it. Kei pressed the “disable” button, making the screen read, ‘UNAUTHORIZED COMMAND: Please enter credentials.’ He typed, ‘Tsukishima Kei,’ placing his hand on the biometric scanner when prompted.

‘MANUAL OVERRIDE: Accepted

All the previously red buttons turned green.

“Okay. Ready when you are.”

“Good. Now, listen to me, Kei,” she said grimly, “You have to cut the power the moment I tell you to. The system has a backup generator that will kick in within 30 seconds. If it's electrified when we hit it, the jeep will explode and our whole plan is shot. That fence can NOT, I repeat, CAN NOT be electrified when I get there, do you understand?”

The male nodded weakly, then, realizing she couldn’t see him, said his affirmation aloud. The radio went quiet. On the screens, the Indominus dug it’s rows of razor sharp teeth into the T-Rex’s neck, throwing the creature as far as it would go. The T-Rex lay there and did not move.

The Indominus Rex roared in victory and went in for the kill. There was a bright flash of red further away as someone offscreen lit a flare. The light became brighter as the person neared (Y/N) and they tossed it into the jeep, catching the Indominus’s attention.

Turning away from it’s prize, the hybrid screeched in rage and took off towards the light. (Y/N) hopped out of the driver’s seat, placing something on the gas pedal and diving away from the vehicle.

‘It might be better if I stay in the jeep and drive it myself,’ he remembered her saying back in the control room.

‘Better for you dying. If the impact with the fence doesn’t kill you, you’ll either drown or Dolly will eat you,’ he’d snapped.

‘But what if--’

He cut her off, ‘But nothing. Put a brick on the gas and move out of the way. There’s no reason to put you in any further danger.’

Amazingly, Kei was the one who won that debate and that’s what brought them to the present moment, with (Y/N) scrambling up off the floor and sprinting out of the Indominus’s path.

The hybrid dinosaur sprinted after the jeep that was speeding towards the mosasaur tank. The distance between the two was closing at an alarming rate.

Just before the vehicle made contact with the security fence, the radio crackled to life, “Now, Kei!”

Tsukishima slammed the button.

‘SECURITY FENCE 4: Disabled’

Just before it made contact with the fence, the jeep’s metal frame crunched under the Indominus’s powerful jaws.

“Fuck!” Kei yelled at the sight. A few seconds later, the buttons turned back to red and the screen read, ‘SECURITY FENCE 4: Enabled.’

“Well, what now?” he yelled into the radio.

“Uh, I don’t--! Fuck-- I don’t know, I’m out of ideas!” she cried in response.

Having been given a break, one of the raptors jumped in, ready to finish the fight. The creature leapt into action to subdue the murderous hybrid, but with that size difference, she wouldn’t last long.

On the verge of panic, (Y/N) said, “If the jeep broke through the fence, Dolly would have noticed the prey, but the Indominus by itself hasn’t gotten her attention! She must be too deep!”

“Well, then, get her attention!” he shot back.

(Y/N) gasped, yanking her whistle out from inside her windbreaker, “Hold me up to the main PA.”

He reached over and jabbed the button.

(Y/N) looked up when she heard his voice over the speakers spread throughout the park, “Whenever you’re ready.”

As Kei keld the radio up to the PA, (Y/N) put her whistle to her lips and blew as hard as she could, the sound undetectable by human ears. They waited with baited breath as the Indominus flung the raptor aside, where the smaller reptile did not get up. The Indominus stopped and let out another bloodcurdling roar.

When nothing more happened, all Kei could think was, ‘We failed.’

Just then, quicker than Kei could comprehend, an incredible volume of water overtook his field of view. Water droplets obscured the CCTV cameras giving him a view of the action, and when they cleared, it took him a moment to register the massive aquatic dinosaur protruding halfway out of its paddock. It held the silver, spiny-backed hybrid in its ginormous maw of thousands of teeth. Crushed by a predator honed by millions of years of evolution, the Indominus writhed in pain and panic, but its struggle only opened more wounds in its flank. It screeched in pain or terror or frustration, Kei wasn’t sure. The only thing that mattered was the slick sound of Dolly sliding backwards into her enclosure, taking her prey with her. All that was left was dark purple blood, soaked pavement, a broken fence still sparking, and a crushed jeep.

“Holy shit,” Tsukishima whispered.

“Holy shit,” (Y/N) murmured in agreement before her knees gave out and she fell to the floor unconscious.

With the Indominus gone and the pterosaurs having been hunted down by the military, park guests were being reunited with their friends and family. Rescue teams were sent to canvas the park for survivors, though they were advised not to get too close to the mosasaur tank. Tsukishima shuddered, knowing that the mosasaurus was always fully capable of leaping halfway out of its tank, she simply chose not to, perhaps out of respect for (Y/N). If, by some miracle, the park survived, he’d have to enforce some serious regulations.

“Tsukishima-san?” one of the surviving guards came to collect him. Conveniently, Kei’s general demeanor kept him from flinching at being addressed the way he heard everyone address his father. The guard led him to a private section of the infirmary, where he saw (Y/N) sitting on a cot looking like she’d spent the last 10 hours in a ditch, though her injuries otherwise looked far from anything life threatening.

“Oh, relax, I’m fine,” she said when she saw the look on his face. “I just got myself all scratched up jumping out of the jeep. I’m not even that hurt.”

Kei scooped her up in his arms in relief.

“Okay, owie, owie, I’m not completely unharmed, stop, stop, stop,” she whined.

The tall male pulled back and stared down at her. The left side of her face has several cuts and she held an ice pack to her ribs on the same side. She had heavy bags under her eyes, but those same eyes shone with relief and delight now that the whole ordeal was over.

“I’d ask if you had brain damage, but you must’ve already had some to come up with such a reckless plan,” he scolded.

(Y/N) gaped at him, “Reckless? It worked! Don’t be mean, Kei, I did good today.”

“You would have done great today if you hadn’t come back to me injured.”

“Again, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I suppose,” he rolled his eyes. “But it would really do wonders for my blood pressure if the person I care about most didn’t have such self-destructive tendencies.”

She grinned at his choice of words, “What was that you called me just now?”

“Self-destructive.” Chuckling, he took her hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Are we gonna be okay?” he asked, not making eye contact with her.

Content, the girl smiled and nestled against her pillows. Her eyes slowly drifted shut.

“We’re gonna be just fine, Kei,” she replied. For a moment he thought she didn’t quite understand what he meant until she squeezed his hand gently. Tsukishima smiled in relief, squeezing her hand back.

“Kei?”

“Hmm?”

“I feel the same way.”

@delicious-peaches-blog

@unusproomnibusomnesprouno

@mac-the-oregonian

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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anonniemousefics · 4 years ago

Text

The Walls Are Thin

Originally posted on AO3

Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej

Word count: 5,282

Synopsis: The walls are very thin in the old rickety house they called The Slat. Inej attempts to quiet the strange boy who lives above her, but, over the years, gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

Inej opened her eyes in the dark. It was well past midnight, and Kaz Brekker was stomping all across the floor above her again.

She glared up at the low ceiling in her little room below his in The Slat, trying a bore a hole through the wood with her glare. She wanted to wring his neck. She’d just spent two days following a rich, adulterous merch for blackmail fodder, with barely two hours of sleep in between, and she wanted to sleep for the next ten days. Instead, she’d been listening to Kaz’s uneven gait, pacing for the last half hour. Sometimes, she’d hear him sit on his bed, the coils on the mattress squeaking beneath his weight. Other times, she’d hear his chair scrape across the floor.

Go. To. Sleep. She was trying her hand at telepathy. It wasn’t working.

What was she going to do? Kaz was only a little older than she was, but he had intimidation and menace in spades. He’d been kind to her, sort of, since he’d bought her indenture three months ago. One of the kindest Kerch she’d met so far, anyway, by a long shot. Nevertheless, he wasn’t a friend, and he was certainly unpredictable.

But she was so tired.

The next time she heard the grating bounce of his old mattress, she lost all patience. She shot out of bed, quivering in frustration and anger, and threw on a jacket over her loose blouse before trotting up the stairs to the door to Kaz’s room.

She was just going to inform him of the way the noise carried, she determined. Very professional. Totally polite. But, when she went to knock, she noticed the door had been left ajar. This gave her pause. She leaned sideways, slightly, her dark braid dangling over her shoulder, and peered through the crack.

Moments later, she’d wonder why she did it. She’d mentally berate herself for spying on the boy who was supposed to be her boss. But, for that brief instant, she was taken in.

She had never seen Kaz looking disheveled. Every waking moment, he exuded organization. He wore tailored suits only grown men wore. His dark hair was never out of place. He kept a cool, effectual air about him, quiet and scheming like a perfectly coiled snake.

But tonight, through that little crack in the door, she saw a boy who looked worn and exhausted, flat on his back on his bed, shirttails loose, his holey socks out in the open. The crook of one arm was draped across his eyes, while he gripped at his bad knee with the other hand. As Inej started to lift her knuckles to the door, he let out a low, wincing groan through his teeth, his fingers tightening on his knee.

She’d seen his limp – she knew the cane he carried wasn’t for show. Still. It was rattling to see a boy as composed as Kaz Brekker writhing in obvious pain.

She knocked anyway, straightening herself.

“Go away,” came his gruff reply. She peaked back one last time.

“Are you –?” She meant to ask if he was okay. But in the blink of an eye, she watched him pick up and throw something at the door, something resembling a shiny, polished shoe, though it was hard to make it out in the blur of its speed. The force of its impact slammed the door shut in Inej’s face with a bang. She flinched backwards. And frowned. Jerk.

Well, fine. She wasn’t stooping to his level. Inej squared back her shoulders and leaned her mouth close to the door.

“These walls are thin,” she informed him. “And some of us are trying to sleep for the first time in days. So…could you stomp quieter? Please.”

There. Professional. Polite. And there was no one around to see how hard she was blushing. Everything was going to be fine.

But Kaz was glaring at her from behind his desk the next morning when she came up to his office to give her report. Her stomach twisted, and she folded her arms in front of herself.

“Was that you knocking on my door last night?” he asked her. He didn’t sound mad, but he looked it. But then again, he always looked it. Jesper Fahey joked once that Kaz probably came out of the womb scowling. Luckily, Kaz had not been around to hear, although everyone already knew what his reaction would have looked like.

Inej wasn’t going to let the scowl intimidate her. She’d been the polite one. She wasn’t the one throwing shoes. She lifted her chin a little.

“It was,” she confessed, trying to appear unashamed. He didn’t need to know she’d snooped, too.

Kaz’s frown deepened, and Inej swallowed.

“What did you want?” he asked. Strange. He still didn’t sound mad. Maybe, she was starting to realize, maybe he wasn’t angry – just confused. There were subtle differences she was starting to pick up on.

“I can hear everything happening in your room from mine,” she told him.

“Ah.” He looked down at the papers on his desk, starting to rearrange them at random.

“I didn’t know if you knew that,” Inej went on, watching his gloved hands skim over papers. She didn’t feel the need to hold her arms in front of herself quite so tightly now.

“I’ll…take better care,” Kaz replied, awkwardly. “And I won’t throw shoes next time.”

“I would appreciate that,” Inej said with a nod. Interesting he would assume there would be a next time, she thought later. She certainly had no intention of doing that again, not after how badly she felt after.

Unfortunately, a side effect of becoming the Wraith was how her sense of hearing seemed to sharpen with each passing month she spied and sleuthed. Where she once struggled to overhear a conversation through a closed window, now she could wait in the bushes and piece together every word.

This also meant becoming keenly aware of the nights Kaz was preoccupied with the pain in his leg, pacing the floor to loosen the tight muscle or tossing and turning on his noisy, old mattress.

She tried to ignore it, to let him be. They weren’t friends. It was none of her business. Although, six months after he’d thrown a shoe at her, she was certainly less intimidated by him and his cool exterior. So, when she heard him again one night, in the middle of a bad thunderstorm, she climbed the stairs once more and knocked on his door.

“What?” she heard him bark from the other side. She could envision him now, kneading at his knee, scowling beneath his flung arm.

“It’s Inej,” she said, leaning against the door with her arms crossed.

“What do you want,” Kaz shouted back. It wasn’t a question. He didn’t care what she wanted, only that she would be going soon.

“Can I get you anything?” Inej said to the door. “To help you sleep?”

“Go to bed, Inej,” was the only grumbling reply. She seethed a quiet sigh. I wouldn’t be here if that was an option.

“Ice would help it, if the muscle’s inflamed,” she pushed. “This is coming from an acrobat who’s hurt many limbs. I know a thing or two. I can help you.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Kaz’s voice was snarky and mean, and Inej scowled to herself. “I’ll just wire the ice shop and have a fresh batch of ice delivered up right now.”

Inej rolled her eyes. So rude.

“Would you like me to bring you some ice, Kaz?” she drawled, her own voice mocking-sweet. Anything for a night’s peace in this rickety old house.

There was a long pause.

“Fine,” came the muffled, reluctant reply. Say please, Inej wanted to say, but she wouldn’t push the issue. They weren’t really friends. Not really.

Instead, rolling her eyes, she shoved herself away from the door and trotted the three flights of stairs toward the shared kitchen of The Slat. They kept an old ice box there, rusting and dilapidated, but it kept things cold. She shucked some ice out of it, wrapped it in a blue tea towel, and returned upstairs. When she reached the landing, Kaz was waiting with the door ajar, his hand extended. He didn’t even lift his gaze to look at her. She dropped the ice bundle in his waiting palm, and he withdrew, slamming the door without so much as a thank you.

Inej suppressed an exasperated sigh in her throat and returned to her little room for a few solid hours of sleep. He’d get his own ice next time, she swore.

Unlikely.

Because the thing of it was, while Kaz Brekker excelled at nearly everything, he was absolutely rubbish at stairs. And, given his rudeness, Inej was wickedly glad sometimes to do something he couldn’t do, though she’d never admit it. That would just be mean. Much like Kaz himself. Whom she was nothing like.

And so it started to become a ritual: every few weeks, particularly after long, physical jobs, Inej would pop up to the third floor to see if he needed ice. She’d get more sleep that way. Eventually, she stopped asking altogether. If she could anticipate it – even more undisturbed sleep. And undisturbed sleep was a gem to Inej. So, she watched him throughout the day, noticing if he seemed stiffer, if he was carrying his weight a little differently, all so she would know whether or not to make a quick trip to the ice box before turning in for the night.

Her timidity around him wore off quickly this way. During the day, Kaz Brekker was a formidable force few had the courage to try to understand. But the grumpy boy she delivered ice to some nights? That Kaz was all bark and no bite.

If he’d been particularly nasty during the day, Inej had no qualms about dropping the freezing cold bundle of ice directly onto his stomach before marching away. In fact, it was a little satisfying to hear his surprised, uncomfortable grunt when she did. Once, when he’d failed to mention the scouting assignment he’d sent her on required her to wait for two hours neck-deep in a vat of vegetable oil, she took a significant amount of sick pleasure in pretending to drop the ice onto his groin, catching it at the last second. Though not before half his body curled up off the mattress while he shouted something unintelligible in wide-eyed horror. Inej had to bite both of her lips to press back a laugh while he snatched the ice from her hands and flopped back onto the pillows with a heavy sigh of relief, the mattress squeaking beneath him.

“Get out,” he rasped, pointing to the door, though Inej knew him well enough now to know that, somewhere deep down, he was mildly impressed with her reflexes.

“’Thank you, Inej,’” she cued him in a sing-song voice, as she slipped through the door.

“Yes, thank you, gentle Inej, for not sterilizing me,” Kaz grumbled after her.

“I don’t want to point this out,” Inej leaned back into his room with a wicked grin, hanging onto the doorframe, “but you’d be less focused on your leg right now if I had.”

“Don’t point it out, then.” Kaz looked mortified, and Inej snickered. When she did, a quicksilver smile flickered across Kaz’s lips, there and gone in a breath. “You’re not helping,” and he tried to frown. “This is not helping me. Go to bed.”

“Good night, Brekker.”

“Good night, you sadistic spider.”

And that was the worst bedridden Kaz Brekker could do: tell her to get out while trying (and usually failing) to look angry at her. Not that he didn’t try to get her back some nights. If she wasn’t quick enough, sometimes he’d dig his fingernails into the ice and flick freezing, wet bits of ice at her if she wasn’t leaving as fast as he would have liked.

“You know what,” she said once, trying to keep a straight face as she wiped the cold water off her face. “Get your own ice next time.”

“I think I’ll just go back to my usual nighttime hobbies instead,” Kaz said, narrowing his eyes up at her from his bed. This was how he joked. Much like how Inej imagined sharks would joke.

“You don’t have hobbies,” she said, slitting her eyes at him.

“I absolutely have hobbies,” Kaz objected, totally deadpan. “Marching loudly, jumping on squeaky mattresses, smashing china on the floor at completely inconsistent intervals--”

“You are insufferable.” Inej was shaking her head. She was not going to smile; she was not going to encourage him.

“I was thinking of taking up the tuba. Just as a nighttime hobby, though. Nothing professional. That won’t bother you too much, will it?”

Try as she might, Inej couldn’t hold back the laugh that came with the image of Kaz fucking Brekker playing a goddamn tuba. Kaz grinned stupidly when she cracked up, and it was contagious. She was still laughing to herself as she trotted back down the stairs to her room.

Some nights were entirely different, however. Some nights Kaz didn’t say much at all. Those were his bad nights, Inej realized, and it was often when a big storm was rolling in from the harbor. Changes in the weather seemed to affect him most severely, and sometimes it seemed like ice did absolutely nothing to help.

“Sometimes, stretching with a counter weight can help,” Inej tried to offer one night, when his face looked pale and drawn. “If I held the leg here--”

“Don’t touch it.” Kaz bolted upright in the bed, his hands flying to block hers from brushing his bare ankle. “Don’t.” His black eyes were blazing, and, for the first time in over a year, Inej felt frightened by him. She recoiled instinctively, holding one wrist close to her chest, her hand balled in a fist.

For a brief moment, Kaz looked out of breath, wild-eyed and panicked. But when his gazed flickered up at Inej’s startled expression, he made a concerted effort to try to soften. He took in a deep breath and adjusted the bundle of ice over his knee, swallowing hard.

“I just,” he fumbled, “I don’t want it touched.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Inej tried to explain.

“I know.” Kaz closed his eyes for a moment, looking frustrated. “I know. But don’t. Don’t touch it. Ever. Please.”

Inej blinked. Kaz never said please, not in the entire span she’d known him.

Saints. Are we friends now?

“I won’t touch it,” she promised, gently. Her gaze drifted to where his black leather gloves sat on his nightstand, and something itched at her brain. She’d never seen Kaz touch anyone. Kaz Brekker made himself untouchable. Her fingers lingered on the mangled scar where the peacock feather tattoo on her arm had once been, the tissue now waxy and lumpy. Maybe Kaz didn’t want to be touched. That was something she understood.

“How did this happen anyway?” she ventured as Kaz shifted himself back, propping himself up against the headboard of his bed. In the years Inej would know Kaz, she would hear him tell many different tales about his leg, each story tailor-made to intimidate whomever he was trying to size up. And she would wonder why, that night, he decided to tell her the unexciting truth.

“Fell off a roof ages ago,” he muttered, as he tried to mash the ice bundle to encompass his kneecap. “It broke, and it’s never really been the same since.”

Inej frowned.

“Kaz,” she started, carefully, “that’s entirely fixable, you know. You could visit any Grisha Healer, and they’d put that right in a day.”

But Kaz scoffed, glaring down at the leg.

“Pain isn’t the enemy,” he said, his rasp harsher than usual. “Pain is a reminder that something needs to be set right.”

“In this case, your leg,” Inej nodded, pointedly.

“Metaphors, Inej.” Kaz looked exasperated, shifting his gaze up at her. “If I took you to a Tailor to have that scar covered up, would you go through with it?”

He was looking straight at the remnants of the peacock feather tattoo, and Inej held a hand over it, her face warming. She didn’t like the turn this had taken. She didn’t like Kaz thinking of the way he’d found her. And yet…

“I don’t know,” she said, honestly.

When she had torn into her own flesh, cutting at the tattoo’s colors and swirls, she’d meant to take back control of her body and cut herself off from how the Menagerie had used her. But it had never been quite that simple. Now, when she looked at the scar, she remembered the other girls who had been taken, the ones who had not been so lucky. The ones who could not cut themselves off. When she looked at her scar, she was reminded of why she fought and spied in the shadows of this saintsforsaken city. Because, one day, maybe not soon, but some day, she would help them as she had been helped. And she would take down the ones who’d marked her.

It was a reminder.

“What does this help you remember?” Inej asked, looking back at the ice on his knee cap. But Kaz clicked his tongue, shook his head.

“We’re not talking about that.” His harsh rasp was flat. “I don’t ask you about the scar. You don’t ask me about this.”

Kaz Brekker makes himself untouchable. Inej wanted to be untouchable, too. They were more alike than she cared to admit.

“Fair enough,” she relinquished with a nod, and left him alone with his ice and his memories.

She intended that night for that to be the end of it. They were untouchable, and there were barriers between them that would never be breached. That was how it ought to be with your boss, Inej would tell herself, since that it was Kaz was. Although, he wasn’t exactly. Not anymore.

The Ice Court and the Van Eck affair would change all of that. They were no longer untouchable – worse, she thought about his touch now. She longed for it, in ways she now understood he couldn’t give, maybe not ever. And there was no ignoring the new quality of Kaz’s glances at her, no matter how reserved he tried to appear. There was nothing that could take back the way his gloved hand had gripped hers on the deck of the Ferolind, the tone of his voice when he’d asked her to stay. To stay with him.

She’d tried to stay in her old room in The Slat one night only when the dust began to settle in the aftermath of the Church of Barter. It had been her home once, after all. It was still her home, wasn’t it? It wasn’t.

She could hear him up there, the mattress creaking, his uneven footsteps pacing. Just like it had always been. And yet, somehow, nothing was the same. Her heart raced this time as she stared at the low ceiling above her. What if she took him a bundle of ice? What if their hands brushed, or he asked her to stay again, or, really, spoke at all in that voice of his, with that soft mouth that had just barely kissed her neck, those lips that had taken her breath away? Her fingers twisted in her sheets at the thought. Suddenly, she didn’t trust herself anymore. She didn’t want to leave him with a bundle of ice. She wanted to curl up on that squeaking mattress next to him. She wanted to kiss him until he stopped hurting. She wanted him to give her a reason to stay.

Clearly that wasn’t happening, and Inej wanted to scream. The walls had never seemed thinner, and it terrified her.

She didn’t give an explanation when she packed up her things the next day and moved to the Van Eck mansion. Jesper was there, after all. Kaz was more than welcome to follow, if he wanted. (He wouldn’t.) It didn’t have to be a strange thing.

She almost bolted for The Slat the first night, when the unending silence of the enormous house stretched before her like a bottomless pit. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to fall asleep without the rusty creaking and that comforting, uneven footfall above her.

But she did. Sleep could come for her in all kinds of new and strange conditions, she would learn, as she set sail on the Wraith for the first time. Maybe she wasn’t actually a light sleeper, she’d wonder sometimes. Maybe it had just been Kaz.

For that reason, for a long time, she chose to stay at the Van Eck mansion when she visited Ketterdam, and Jesper and Wylan didn’t question it. They might have even preferred it, Inej realized, when they presented her with her own key, even as she and Kaz both made concerted efforts to take down their own walls that separated their hearts from each other. She accepted the little brass key wholeheartedly. If anything, she just needed the rest. She didn’t want to lie awake at night, thinking about what she wanted to do to Kaz – and couldn’t -- when she heard his footsteps.

Until –

“I forgot my key,” Inej told Kaz at two in the morning, while they drained the last of their drinks at The Crow Club. It was a lie. The key had been a formality, a thoughtful gesture, but the Wraith had never needed keys. And surely Kaz knew this when he set his drink down, shaking his head at her.

“Whatever will you do,” he said, in that teasing way of his. Not unlike a cat throwing a bird around, Inej had once noted.

“Sleep in the gutter, I suppose,” Inej shrugged with a smirk. “Or on the roof. Or beg some charitable merch to take me in.”

“There’s going to be begging?” Kaz lifted his eyebrows, eagerly. “I was going to offer you a room, but if there’s going to be begging--”

Inej kicked him under the table.

But she took him up on it. The rain began to fall on their slow walk back to The Slat, where a wash of old memories flooded in when Inej breathed in the house’s old musty scent.

She said goodnight to Kaz at the door of her old room and left a soft, lingering kiss on his rain-damp cheek. She heard his breath catch, his body stiffening, and he darted a quick glance over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one had seen. Then he nodded his goodnight, his hair wet and mussed, and Inej watched him hobble away until she heard the floorboards of the stairs groan beneath his slow ascent to the attic.

And then again on his walk to his room. And then again as he paced his floor.

Inej sighed as she sat lightly at the edge of the bed, hearing the mattress above her groan at the same moment. The walls were as thin as they’d always been.

They could be thinner.

She changed out of her wet clothes, hanging them out to dry along the footboard of the narrow bed, all the while listening to the creaking above her head. She threw on an old nightshirt Kaz had lent her – it hung to her knees, but at least it was dry. She combed out her wet hair with her fingers before braiding it tightly for the night, and then she crawled under the covers in the darkness. The floorboards above her sighed with every uneven step.

Her palms were starting to sweat.

Kaz was probably changing out of his wet clothes, too, she realized. Toweling off the hard planes of his torso. Raking his bare fingers through his crow black hair. Raindrops trickling over the curves of his shoulder muscles.

Inej was staring at the ceiling, this time wishing to see through walls.

Or his leg might hurt, she thought. It had been ages since they’d done this particular dance. She could just take him a bundle of ice as she used to, and if he happened to be half-dressed when she got there, well, that wouldn’t be her fault, would it? She was just trying to be helpful.

When did you become such a creep? She would wonder to herself as she shucked ice out of the old icebox in The Slat’s shared kitchen. She clenched her bare toes nervously while she wrapped up the ice, and then darted up the stairs before anyone wandered out and caught a glimpse of her in only Kaz’s shirt.

Her heart was racing when she knocked on his door.

“Yes?” came the tentative response. Did he sound expectant? She leaned closer to the door.

“It’s just me,” she said, hand on the knob.

“Come in.”

Inej gave the old door a shove and inched inside. Kaz had changed out of his tailored suit, opting for a pair of soft, dark sleeping trousers, and – sweet Lizabeta – he hadn’t put on a shirt. Inej felt her face warm as she shuffled the ice between her palms, absentmindedly. He hadn’t even looked up – he was hunched at the edge of his bed, tense and kneading at his bad knee.

“Am I making too much noise again?” he asked. Inej could see him wincing even though he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“I thought you might want some ice,” she offered. Kaz huffed, trying to straighten the leg.

“Ice doesn’t actually do much when it’s raining,” he confessed, his voice strained, and it was Inej’s turn to scoff.

“Wait. All these years…?”

“I just wanted your attention? Yes. Yes, I am a bastard.” And Kaz started to raise his head, a crooked, painful smirk on his mouth, but his eyebrows lifted suddenly, noticing her bare legs. It was Inej’s turn to smirk. She didn’t have to be the only one made to feel things.

She closed the door behind her.

“You know, I do know other things that might help,” she offered, setting the bundle down on his nightstand as she crossed to his ogling stare. “Stretching or massaging or--”

“Touching.” Kaz’s stare darkened. Not at her, she knew that now. At his own inner demons.

Inej gave a soft shrug and moved to brush the wet, tangled hair back from his forehead.

“I’ve already broken that promise, haven’t I?” she said, half teasing. “What’s one more?”

Kaz fell silent, considering, his dark eyes drifting to her knees. His fingers tightened on his kneecap, like he could hold himself together just there.

“What do you want me to do?” he rasped, after a long moment.

“Just sit comfortably,” Inej said, and, though it pained her a bit to add: “Put a shirt on first, if that makes you more comfortable.”

It would make him more comfortable, it seemed – he threw a plain white shirt over his head before slowly inching back down onto the edge of his bed, wincing on the way down. He was trying to fix his longer locks of hair when Inej crawled up behind him, as if trying not to look as unraveled as he clearly felt.

“What are you doing?” He threw her an alarmed look over his shoulder before she even put hands on him.

“Everything’s connected,” she explained. “If your leg’s hurting and you’re walking unevenly, you likely have tense muscles elsewhere, too.” And she gently rested her palms just above his shoulder blades, where he was warm and solid beneath his soft shirt. “Mhmm,” she confirmed, pressing in. “Oof, you’re as tense as a Fjerdan diplomat.”

Kaz’s shoulders shook a little in a light chuckle, loosening just a bit. Inej smiled to herself.

He loosened even more as she worked her way down his back, kneading around the wings of his shoulder blades, stroking down his spine. He sighed, soft and contented, as she rubbed over the slopes of his muscles, and, when she glanced up once, she noticed his eyes had fallen shut. Once he seemed sufficiently relaxed, she moved to the side and told him to lie back.

The nervous light in his eyes flared up again as he inched back and lowered himself back toward his pillow, the mattress rasping with every movement. Oh, Saints, the whole house is going to hear.

“Relax,” she whispered to him, and softly pressed a warm hand to his bad hip. His eyes still betrayed his skittishness. “When have I ever hurt you?”

“You tried to throw ice on my balls once,” Kaz frowned, looking wary. He was still propped up on his elbows, refusing to give in the last few inches.

“You still remember that?”

“I still have nightmares about it.”

But that quicksilver smile of his flickered when she muffled a laugh, and while he looked more at ease, she moved to softly massage his thigh.

“Wait,” he hissed, tensing, “That’s -- huuuuh…” He never finished his sentence. Inej ran the side of her hand down the tense muscle on the back of his thigh toward his knee, and his eyes started to roll back in his head. He released his hold on his elbows, dropping back onto his pillow with a groan, and the mattress coils squeaked.

“Shhhhh,” Inej insisted. The walls were so thin. “Is this all right?”

“Mhmm.” Kaz had pressed a tight fist over his mouth. She was softly stroking his thigh with both hands, gently bending his knee.

“Are you sure?” she whispered. “It looks like it hurts.” His dark brows had knit together, lines crinkling in his forehead.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he said, in a single moan. Inej shushed him again, unable to tear her eyes off him in fascination. Surely no one had ever seen Kaz Brekker so undone.

He only continued to collapse as she gently rubbed down his calf, taking great care around tough bits of scar tissue and atrophied muscle. When she made her way down to his ankle, he released the hand from his mouth with a sigh, like the mattress had begun to swallow him whole. She glanced up at his face, his features relaxed in the flickering lamplight.

His eyelashes barely fluttered when she moved to his other leg.

“There’s more?” he asked. He sounded half-awake. Inej hummed a confirmation.

“This one’s doing all the work,” she explained, pressing in on his stronger thigh. Kaz let out another groan, this one deep from his chest, as she kneaded her knuckles into the tissue.

He was as still as a corpse by the time she had finished, and Inej slipped off the edge of the bed, tip-toeing to turn down the lamp. She thought to sneak back downstairs. When she’d glanced at him once last time, his lips were slightly parted as his chest slowly rose and fell, and she’d assumed he’d fallen asleep.

But instead, to her surprise, he murmured her name, “Inej,” and reached out to touch her sleeve.

“Feeling a little better?” she whispered. She perched at the edge of his mattress, trying to keep the springs from squeaking, and Kaz gave a comfortable hum.

“Come here.” She looked in amazement at his sleepy eyes as he opened up his arm and started to fold her in.

Kaz shifted his weight and began to pull his girl in, and, Saints, the sounds the lurched out from deep within the clunky old mattress then. It was Inej’s turn to wince. There was no getting around it. The whole world probably heard. No hiding anything now.

“Saints, Kaz, how cheap are you,” she hissed. “This bed sounds older than the making at the heart of the world.”

“Shhh,” Kaz hushed her, mocking. “The walls are thin. Everyone can hear you.” But Inej couldn’t help grinning to herself in the dark, even as she rolled her eyes.

He tucked her head below his chin, cradling her head against his bicep as he bent his arm to hold her head. Something warm and welcome spread in her belly as his fingers slid into her hair, and she pulled him closer, an arm over his torso.

“That’s a yes, then?” she whispered, as his other arm circled around her. His hand curled in the fabric between her shoulder blades. “You’re feeling better?”

“I defy any man who would have me believe that sex is better,” Kaz mumbled, half- asleep, and Inej stifled a laugh into his chest.

“Nina would say don’t knock it til you try it.”

“Nina’s a podge, too, then.”

And, outside, the rain fell, dribbling down the clay rooftop, but inside The Slat, the night was warm and dark. And silent. And right.

#six of crows #fanfic #leigh bardugo #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz brekker x inej ghafa #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #one shot #kanej #kanej fluff #soc

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