#in my client's defense they said “let him cook”

[azurityarts]

2023 Holiday Doodle #4

holiday baking

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 17) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 5.8k notes: sorry for the slow update, but I don’t want this to end, and it won't have an ending if I don't sit down and write it, right?

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome

@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin @jay-is-a-pinguin

The following days were chaotic. Kaz and Y/n communicated mostly by sending each other links for houses to see but couldn’t manage to make their schedules match enough to go see at least one of them. Their days were filled with hurried messages and missed calls, both trying to balance their hectic lives with this new chapter they were stepping into.

They saw each other every night, alternating between their two apartments, where their stuff was starting to get mixed up in the most comforting way. Kaz found himself leaving a few things at her place, while Y/n’s clothes began to take up space in his closet. It was messy and imperfect, but it felt right.

Kaz’s routine had become an eager ritual: he left his keys to Y/N, hoping every day that he would return to find her at his house. One night, he walked into a scene he hadn't anticipated, and it was anything but ordinary.

The argument echoing from the kitchen was both bizarre and oddly intense. Kaz stopped in his tracks at the entrance, his brows furrowed in confusion. Y/N and Jesper were engaged in a standoff, each vocalizing their grievances with an earnestness that made Kaz wonder if they were being serious.

“I’m his girlfriend!” Y/N's voice carried a hint of defensiveness as she spoke from the kitchen, her back turned as she stirred something on the stove.

“Yeah, since when? Two weeks?” Jesper shot back, sounding incredulous as he arranged utensils on the table with exaggerated motions. “I’m his best friend!”

“So what?” Y/N’s tone was filled with frustration and amusement, clearly unperturbed by Jesper’s objections.

“You were with him yesterday,” Jesper retorted, his voice rising slightly.

“And I’m going to be with him tonight,” Y/N replied, her voice dripping with defiance.

Kaz pushed the door open wider and stepped into the kitchen, where he found the scene: Y/N was in the middle of cooking, while Jesper was setting the table with the casual ease of someone who was a regular guest—perhaps too regular.

“Let’s make him decide then,” Y/N said, glancing over her shoulder at Kaz with a smirk that bordered on challenging. “You can’t beat filthy sex, Jesper.”

Jesper, not missing a beat, shot back with a grin. “Oh, I will have filthy sex with him if that’s what he wants to do tonight.” His remark was delivered with such nonchalance that Kaz’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Y/n turned to face Jesper, raising a brow, “I mean, what’s that say? Two it’s love, three it’s a party?”

Kaz looked between Y/N and Jesper, his confusion morphing into amusement. “I’m pretty sure you just made that up,” he said, with an exasperated sigh.

“Jesper is jealous,” Y/N stated matter-of-factly, her hands on her hips as she turned to face him.

“Yes, I am,” Jesper admitted, his tone tinged with mock indignation. “Also, you’re out of my ice cream. Did you forget about me already?”

Kaz sighed again, still in disbelief at the absurdity of the situation. “Alright, alright. How about we watch a movie after dinner? All together?”

Y/N and Jesper, still bickering but clearly warming to the idea, responded in unison, “Fine.”

During dinner, the conversation shifted quickly. Jesper seemed intent on avoiding the topic of Y/N’s job, though he was more than happy to soak up the latest gossip about her clients. He leaned in eagerly as she recounted humorous and outrageous stories from her work, his eyes wide with fascination.

“No way that happened,” said Jesper, shaking his head.

“I swear! And then he took the-”

“Y/n, we’re eating,” Kaz interrupted the animated story making them both sigh in shared annoyance.

He watched the exchange with amusement and relief. He was grateful to see them bonding, even if it was through a series of awkward and funny moments. The way they interacted—Y/N’s animated storytelling and Jesper’s animated reactions—was a step towards some kind of friendship, and Kaz felt a deep sense of contentment.

Once dinner was over, Y/N and Jesper settled onto the couch with Kaz. Y/N plopped down on his left side, her body pressed comfortably against him as she made herself at home. Jesper took his place on Kaz’s right, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch and looking as if he owned the place.

“I so wanted to hit on you when we met at the Crow Club,” Y/N said with a mischievous grin, her eyes glinting as she glanced at Kaz. “But Kaz stopped me.”

“Kaz! Rude!” Jesper chimed in, his tone a playful mixture of mock betrayal and amusement.

Kaz groaned, pretending to be exasperated as he reached for the remote. “I don’t think I can handle both of you together,” he said with a sigh, pressing the play button on the movie. 

As the movie droned on, Kaz couldn’t help but notice how quickly both Y/N and Jesper got distracted and started gossiping again about people he didn’t even know.

Since he was in the middle, they kept moving to look at each other better. “Sorry, do you want me to leave?” he asked when they got so close to talk in a conspiratorial tone about whether or not some girl was hiding a pregnancy or not, that they were almost both on his lap. 

“Yes, actually, can you move on the other couch?” asked Jesper. 

“You could make drinks,” suggested Y/n. 

Kaz stood up shaking his head, at least they had stop fighting.

***

One evening, Kaz found Matthias standing outside his door, looking unusually serious. 

Matthias shifted awkwardly before speaking. “I wanted to talk about my birthday party. Jesper is bringing his new boyfriend, this Wylan guy, and I thought it wouldn’t be fair to not invite your new girlfriend. I already talked to Inej, she’s in Brazil for the next two months, so she won’t be there.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “And what does Nina think about this?”

Matthias sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s not thrilled, but she agreed.”

“Thanks. We’ll be there.” He paused, a small smile playing on his lips. “Oh, and she’s vegan.”

Matthias rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “She’s really determined to make everything difficult, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Kaz replied with a chuckle.

Matthias shifted his weight, a rare sign of uncertainty from the usually stoic man. "Look, Kaz, I know things have been complicated since... everything with Inej."

Kaz nodded slowly, understanding the unspoken words. "I know it's not easy for any of you to adjust."

Matthias gave a small, wry smile. "Well, relationships are never simple. But if she's important to you, then we'll make it work."

Kaz felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he nodded thankfully.

***

“No way, Kaz. I’m not going,” Y/n shook her head emphatically. Kaz passed a hand between his hair, they were trying to make some of her toiletries fit in his one-man-who-never-owned-a-lotion-small-bathroom. It felt like playing tetris, and she kept saying that it was just a small part of what she actually used everyday.

“Come on, I want you to meet them,” he said again, his tone gently persuasive.

“Oh, I’ve met them. They hate me,” she laughed nervously, trying to squeeze another bottle onto the crowded shelf.

“They don’t hate you. They just don’t know you and they’re still mad about the fact that I cheated on Inej,” Kaz replied, his voice dropping slightly as he admitted the uncomfortable truth.

“With me!” Y/n's voice was filled with frustration and anxiety. 

Kaz sighed, the bathroom felt even smaller with both of them in it, and the tension in the air was palpable. 

“You’ll see that once they get to know you, they’ll like you,” he insisted, picking up a small jar from the counter. “What is this?”

“This is for my under eyes. Not everyone wants to go around with dark circles like you do,” Y/n snatched the jar from his hand, placing it back with a huff. “I don’t want to be judged by your friends for an entire evening.”

Kaz leaned in closer, resting his hand on the counter beside her. He always liked it when she wore her glasses instead of contacts; it made her look even more endearing. “No one will judge you, except maybe Nina.”

Y/n sighed deeply, pausing in her efforts to organize the bathroom. “What are you going to say when they ask about my job?”

Kaz hesitated, his honesty coming through despite his desire to reassure her. “I don’t know,” he said sincerely.

“See? Terrible idea,” she muttered, her shoulders slumping.

Kaz reached out, gently lifting her chin so she would look at him. “I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out together. You’re important to me, Y/n. They need to see that.”

Y/n’s eyes softened, but the worry didn’t completely leave her face. “I just don’t want to be the reason everyone’s uncomfortable.”

“You won’t be,” Kaz promised, his voice steady. “They’ll see how much you mean to me, and if they care about me, they’ll care about you too.”

She looked at him, searching his eyes for the reassurance she needed. “And if they don’t?”

Kaz took her hand, squeezing it gently. “They will, trust me.”

They continued arranging the bathroom, the small, mundane task becoming a comforting routine. Amidst the chaos of organizing, Kaz’s curiosity got the better of him. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you, but don’t get me wrong, it’s just a curiosity.”

Y/n glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s hear it.”

Kaz hesitated for a moment, then asked, “I imagine you don’t plan on keeping your job forever. What’s your plan for then?”

Y/n shrugged without turning her head, her fingers meticulously placing a bottle on the shelf. “I’ll live off my trust fund.”

Kaz’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Your what?”

“My trust fund,” she repeated, sounding as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You have a trust fund?” Kaz asked, his voice laced with astonishment.

“I wish,” she laughed, finally turning to face him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She grabbed him by the waist, pulling him closer. “I’ll either marry rich or learn how to code.”

“Marry rich, huh?” Kaz smirked, his fingers finding their way to her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. “That’s quite a plan.”

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with playful intent. “Yeah, like staying at home, being pretty, going to Pilates, getting the kids into fancy sports.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So you’re telling me your grand plan is to live the high life and leave all the hard work to someone else?”

Y/n chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder. “That’s the dream, isn’t it? To have someone take care of all the heavy lifting while you enjoy the perks.”

Kaz looked at her with a mock serious expression, then shook his head with a smile. “I won’t let you work a day in your life if that’s what you want.”

Y/n's eyes widened, a playful smile curving her lips. “Oh, really?”

Kaz leaned in closer, his tone earnest but lighthearted. “Of course. First, because I can, and second, because I want to. I’ll handle the heavy lifting, the long hours, and the stress. You just focus on being fabulous and keeping me on my toes.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with warmth. “And you would be really okay with all that? You’re not just saying it to keep me around?”

Kaz cupped her face gently, his gaze serious now but soft. “I mean every word. If you want to take the lead on decorating the house, planning vacations, and keeping me in line, then that’s what you’ll do.”

Y/n’s expression softened even more, shoving him playfully. “You could have told me months ago.”

He laughed, “I tried.”

Y/n looked at Kaz more seriously. “So, are we really going to see that house tomorrow? Are we really doing this?”

Kaz grinned, his tone upbeat and reassuring. “Absolutely. You’re signing up for a lot of Sundays at IKEA.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, playfully rolling her eyes. “Well, I’d better update my Pinterest board then.”

Kaz laughed, nodding. “I’m counting on it.”

***

The day of the party arrived, and y/n’s anxiety was palpable. She tried every trick in the book to avoid going. She claimed she was feeling under the weather, that she had a work emergency, what kind of emergency could exist in her work she was the only one to know, and even tried to convince Kaz that she had a sudden family crisis. When Kaz received a desperate call from her grandmother, who informed him that y/n had tried to enlist her help to claim she was on the brink of death, Kaz’s patience finally wore thin.

As they parked outside Nina’s and Matthias’s house, y/n was visibly tense. “We can still leave,” she said, crossing her arms defiantly.

Kaz sighed, grabbing her chin gently but firmly to make her look at him. “Stop being a child about this,” he whispered before leaning in to kiss her, the contact warm and reassuring. “It’ll be fine. Just breathe.”

Y/n huffed, “Oh, I am so going to be a child about this,” she muttered loud enough for him to hear.

They made their way inside, and the initial greetings were awkward but manageable. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, but they managed to navigate the small talk. Kaz felt Nina’s eyes on him every time he leaned in to whisper something to y/n, or when she made him laugh. He could tell she was not pleased with the situation.

The evening’s focus shifted to y/n and Wylan, the new entries to the group. They were engaged in a discussion about Wylan’s career as a musician when Matthias, with a casual air, asked y/n, “So, what about you, y/n?”

Kaz’s hand instinctively tightened around Y/N’s under the table. He could sense her hesitation, the momentary pause as she gathered her thoughts. Before she could answer, Kaz took the reins, his voice cutting through the chatter with unexpected bluntness. “She’s a sex worker.”

The room fell into an almost eerie silence. The suddenness of Kaz’s revelation hung in the air, and the group exchanged bewildered glances. Y/N turned to Kaz, her eyes wide, not with shock, but with a kind of appreciative disbelief. She mouthed a soft “Thank you,” accompanied by a small, grateful smile.

Nina, ever the bold one, was the first to break the silence, shaking her head as if to clear away her surprise. “You’re kidding.”

“He’s not,” Y/N interjected, her voice steady and polite, though her grip on Kaz’s hand tightened ever so slightly.

Eyes darted between the two, curiosity and unease settling over the table. It was Nina who voiced what everyone seemed to be thinking. “And you’re fine with this?” she asked Kaz, her arms crossing defensively.

Kaz shrugged, his expression impassive. “It’s a job.”

Wylan, who had been quietly absorbing the exchange, hesitated before speaking up, his tone tentative. “Is it rude if I, uhm, ask why?”

Y/N leaned towards him, her smile disarming. “Because I’m really good at it.”

The response was so unexpected that Matthias, in mid-drink, choked, his face flushing a deep red as Nina patted his back, half-laughing, half-concerned.

“Really? That’s your answer?” Nina asked, her tone caught between disbelief and amusement.

Y/N’s expression softened as she shrugged. “I could give you thousands of answers: because it’s fun, because it’s easy, because it pays well,” she replied, her voice matter-of-fact.

Nina’s gaze shifted back to Kaz, searching for some sign of unease or regret. “I still can’t believe you’re fine with it,” she said, her tone softer, almost like she was trying to understand.

“That’s how we met,” Kaz explained, his hand moving to cover Y/N’s, offering a rare display of open affection. “I hired her to help me with my issues with skin-to-skin contact, and well—”

“Let’s just say he got over them,” Jesper quipped with a laugh, trying to ease the tension.

Nina looked around the table, her eyes scanning the faces of their friends, as if seeking some form of solidarity in her lingering discomfort. “I can’t be the only one who finds this weird, come on.”

“I never said it wasn’t weird,” Y/N replied with a small grin, acknowledging the strangeness of the situation with a lighthearted tone.

Matthias, who had finally recovered from his coughing fit, leaned forward, his expression more serious. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

Y/N’s smile softened, her gaze meeting his with a calm assurance. “You’re thinking about desperate girls working on the streets. I’m talking about clients who are lawyers, doctors, CEOs—people who just need some company, like anyone else. I’m in control of everything. I set my boundaries. I decide who, when, and where. I have more control over my body and my life than most people do.”

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the conversation still lingering in the air. Everyone was processing Y/N's words, the way she had calmly and confidently explained her life choices. Kaz, sensing the need to steer the conversation into lighter territory, leaned forward slightly.

“We found a house yesterday,” Kaz said, his voice casual, but the significance of the statement wasn’t lost on anyone.

Nina’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re really moving in together?” she asked, her tone hovering between disbelief and curiosity. “Isn’t it a bit soon?”

Y/N glanced at Kaz, their eyes meeting in a brief, understanding exchange before she nodded. “Yeah, it is. And we also got a plant,” she added, her voice taking on an excited, playful edge. “If it doesn’t die, we’re getting a dog.”

A few chuckles rippled around the table, the atmosphere beginning to lighten as Y/N’s enthusiasm became contagious.

“A plant?” Jesper teased, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a big commitment.”

“It is,” Y/N shot back with a grin. “Kaz is already paranoid about it, always moving it around to make sure it gets the right amount of light.”

“I really want the dog,” Kaz pointed out, his tone serious, though the hint of a smirk gave him away.

Jesper laughed, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d go all strategic on a plant just to get a dog.”

The group chuckled, and the conversation naturally shifted towards dogs—favorite breeds, training tips, and childhood pets. The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate completely as they swapped stories and debated which dog would be best suited for their new home.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders as the topic of her job was quickly forgotten, replaced by lighthearted banter and shared excitement about the future. Kaz, too, seemed more at ease, joining in on the conversation with surprising enthusiasm, especially when it came to discussing the potential new addition to their household.

***

Kaz and Y/n were trying to pack some of her things, but Y/n was taking a lot of time deciding what she needed for work and what she had to bring to their new place. A shiver went through Kaz’s spine. Their house. How did they go from Y/n helping him to hold hands to renting a really nice apartment together? He shook his head, marveling at how quickly things had changed.

“Baby, are you listening to me?” Y/n asked, annoyed, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Honestly? No. I can't look at another vibrator to decide if you need it for work or not,” he sighed, laying back on the bed.

Y/n snorted, throwing some of the vibrators into a box. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”

Kaz hesitated. He really wanted to, but he knew it was a potential trigger for his trauma. The idea of being so vulnerable, even with her, was daunting.

“Please, I'll behave, I swear,” she added, climbing on top of him and looking down with a mischievous smile.

He looked at her, taking in her playful expression, the light in her eyes. “Fine, let's try it.”

Y/n grinned, gathering fresh clothes for both of them. She held up a shirt, examining it. “That shirt is not mine,” commented Kaz.

The girl looked at it again. “Are you sure?”

“I’m really sure,” he chuckled.

It took three more tries to find a shirt that was actually his.

“All of these other men’s shirts that you have around are going in the trash,” he said before kissing her temple, his voice tinged with possessiveness but softened by affection.

Y/n laughed, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. She turned on the water, adjusting it to the perfect temperature, and started undressing. Kaz watched her, feeling both excitement and nervousness. She was always so patient with him, so understanding of his boundaries.

They undressed, and Kaz started to feel a bit self-conscious. Of course, she had seen him naked, but never in the bright light like in that moment. He took a deep breath.

“Are you okay, love?” she asked, stepping into the shower first.

He tried to look nonchalant, following her under the warm spray of water. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, his voice steady despite his nerves.

Surprisingly, Y/n really behaved, never touching him, never pushing him beyond his comfort zone. Kaz found himself enjoying the normalcy of it, passing the body wash back and forth, chatting about mundane things. The shower was spacious enough for them to maintain some distance, which helped him relax.

After a while, someone tried to enter the bathroom. “Who locked this door?” asked an annoyed voice from the other side.

“Me,” replied Y/n.

“Are you working?”

“No.”

“Oh, hi Kaz, I suppose.”

“Hi,” Kaz replied, embarrassed, “Do you usually share the bathroom?” he asked, turning to Y/n.

“Always, of course.”

“I shouldn't be surprised,” he sighed, grabbing the towel she handed him. They both stepped out of the shower, dripping wet.

“We take showers together all the time, you know, it saves water,” Y/n winked at him from the mirror, and he rolled his eyes.

A weird thought formed in his mind. “Do you have sex in the shower? When you ‘save water’?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” she shrugged, then turned to look at him, “Does that count as cheating?” she asked with wide eyes.

Kaz sighed, “Honestly, I have no idea at thsis point.”

“We should talk about it,” she said more to herself than to him. “Moving out from here is going to be so weird.”

“You think?” he asked, watching her get dressed.

“Yeah, we've been living together for ages. I'm the youngest, so they always treated me like a little sister,” she said with a small smile.

“Y/n, if you're rethinking this…”

“I'm not,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “Plus, I’ll be here all the time for work, so it’s fine.”

Kaz nodded, hoping that she was sincere. He knew how much her current living situation meant to her, and he didn’t want her to feel like she was giving up too much.

“Can we sleep at my house? Jesper is coming there early tomorrow morning,” he asked, trying to change the subject to something lighter.

“Sure.”

“And can we take your car? I came here with an Uber.”

Y/n laughed, the sound light and musical. “Any other requests?”

“No, I'm done,” he smirked, feeling a bit more relaxed after their shower and conversation.

***

“Turn left at the next exit,” Kaz pointed at the turn. “Why? Where are we going?” she asked, puzzled.

“Just a fast work thing, don’t worry,” Kaz said, feeling the tension build inside him. She was so going to kill him for what he was about to do.

They entered a nice residential neighborhood, the kind with tree-lined streets and perfectly manicured lawns. “Slow down,” he said, pulling out his phone to check for confirmation.

“Okay stop here, love. Don’t turn off the car,” he instructed as he quickly got out, his mind focused on the task at hand.

Kaz moved to the other side of the street, checking the license plates again to ensure it was the right car. Satisfied, he raised his cane and began smashing the car's windows with calculated blows. The glass shattered, creating a cacophony of breaking glass and setting off the car alarm. After a few moments of chaos, he felt satisfied with the damage and hurried back to the car.

Y/n was looking at him in shock, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. “What the fuck, Kaz?”

“Drive!” he commanded, his voice urgent and unyielding.

Y/n pressed her foot on the accelerator, and the car sped away from the scene. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension.

Kaz glanced over at her, seeing the mixture of anger, confusion, and fear on her face. He knew he owed her an explanation, but right now, getting away was the priority. The adrenaline pumped through his veins, making his heart race.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, her voice trembling with fear and anger.

“A necessary evil,” Kaz replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “It was a message. Someone needed to be reminded that they can’t mess with us.”

“Us?” she scoffed, her eyes flicking between him and the road. “I have nothing to do with your shady things! You dragged me into this without any warning!”

“I know,” he admitted, his tone softening. “I didn’t want to, but it couldn’t wait.”

“You could’ve told me!” she shouted, her frustration boiling over. “You could’ve given me a heads-up instead of just springing this on me!”

Kaz sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to get involved, but I needed a trusted driver.”

Y/n’s hand left the wheel for a moment, swatting at him without taking her eyes off the road. “I. Am. Not. Your. Trusted. Driver.”

Kaz laughed, trying to dodge her playful hits, but in the small car, there wasn’t much space to escape her. “Okay, okay, I get it! You’re not my driver,” he said, his tone lightening up.

She shot him a look, her eyes narrowing. “You better remember that.”

He reached over, capturing her hand and bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss.

Her expression softened slightly, but she still held onto her frustration. “That was insane.”

He nodded, his eyes sincere. “I know. Sorry.”

She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

Kaz leaned back, watching her with admiration. “I’ll do my best.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes, the tension between them easing as the adrenaline from the encounter began to fade. Y/n’s grip on the wheel relaxed, and she let out a deep breath.

The morning after the impromptu car destruction, Kaz and Jesper were in Kaz's half-packed kitchen, each nursing a steaming cup of coffee. The chaotic state of the room, with boxes and packing materials scattered around, seemed to add to the casual air between them.

Jesper leaned back in his chair with a grin, clearly enjoying the aftermath of Kaz’s nocturnal escapade. “Good job with that car,” he said, chuckling. 

Kaz snorted, “You should ask Y/n what she thinks about it.”

Jesper’s eyes widened in mock horror. “You brought her on the job? Are you crazy?”

Kaz shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I couldn’t use my car. It’s too recognizable. And I wasn’t about to call an Uber and ask them to wait while I did a little... property damage.”

Jesper snorted, nearly spilling his coffee. “Unbelievable. So, is she mad at you?”

Kaz sighed dramatically. “Oh, a lot. I’m going to need to swap out her plates later today. She’s never going to let me live this down.”

Jesper shook his head, still amused. “I can only imagine the look on her face. Is she giving you the silent treatment or planning your untimely demise?”

Kaz chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “A bit of both, actually.”

“So where is she now, anyway?” Jesper asked, glancing around as if expecting Y/N to appear from around the corner any second.

“Out for a morning run,” Kaz replied, a hint of amusement lacing his voice as he leaned back in his chair.

Jesper raised an eyebrow, looking around the kitchen. “That’s why there’s nothing to eat? You don’t make people that can cook mad, Kaz. Basic survival.”

Kaz smirked. “Did you come here this early because you were hoping for breakfast?”

“Yes,” Jesper admitted without hesitation, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “And I’m not ashamed of it.”

Kaz chuckled softly, shaking his head. “She’ll be back soon. You might get lucky.”

Jesper’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “So you’re really leaning into this whole ‘boyfriend’ role, huh? Letting her handle all the cooking?”

Kaz gave him a flat look. “She insists on it. Claims my cooking is a ‘fire hazard.’”

Jesper grinned, clearly entertained. “Smart girl. But you know, you could take a hint and maybe surprise her with a meal sometime. Instead of just living on coffee and whatever scraps you find in the fridge.”

Kaz shot back with a sly grin, “Jesper, light of my days, why do you think I pushed for living together so soon?”

Jesper chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. You’re really trying to sell me on the idea that it’s all about the cooking, huh? Meanwhile, you’re walking around with those love-sick puppy eyes. You used to be a better liar, Brekker.”

Jesper's playful grin faded as he studied Kaz's expression, now serious. “How are things between you two? When’s the official date to move in together?” 

Kaz took a thoughtful sip of his coffee, then answered, “It’s good. We’re planning for next week, probably.”

Jesper raised an eyebrow, leaning in with genuine curiosity. “You’re really determined? No cold feet? No last-minute panic?”

Kaz held up a finger, signaling Jesper to wait. He walked out of the kitchen, his steps purposeful. He headed to his safe, a sleek, secure compartment he rarely used. Kaz fidgeted with the lock. After a moment, he retrieved a small, velvet-lined box from the safe, cradling it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. 

Returning to the kitchen, he set the box on the table with a deliberate thud. Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth fell open as he looked at Kaz, incredulous. “You’re kidding. Tell me that you’re fucking kidding, man.”

Kaz’s grin widened, clearly enjoying Jesper’s reaction. “I’m not. Open it.”

Jesper hesitated for a split second before lifting the lid of the box. His eyes fell upon a stunning engagement ring, its diamond sparkling even in the dim light of the kitchen. His expression shifted from shock to awe. “Kaz, is this…?”

“Yeah,” Kaz confirmed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Of course It’s real.”

Jesper was momentarily speechless, his gaze shifting from the ring to Kaz’s face. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his tone serious. “This is a big step.”

Kaz nodded, his face reflecting a mix of resolve and contentment. “I’ve spent a lot of time rethinking my actions, my choices. For once, I’m living like a person is supposed to. Y/n has been... incredible. She’s been there through the fears, the panic attacks, the moments when I was at my lowest. She’s more than just what people see on the surface.”

He paused, lost in thought for a moment. “Everyone thinks Y/n is just a wild party girl with a peculiar job, and sure, that’s part of her. But she’s so much more. She’s the perfect fit for me, and I want to show her just how much she means to me.”

Jesper’s shock was slowly melting into admiration. He studied Kaz’s face, seeing the depth of his feelings and the sincerity in his eyes. “Man, I’ve never seen you like this. It’s...”

“Yeah, I know,” Kaz interrupted with a soft smile. “I’ve been guarded for a long time, but with her, everything feels right. I want to spend the rest of my life showing her how much she matters. It’s not just about having her around; it’s about truly being with her.”

Jesper looked at the ring again, shaking his head in disbelief but clearly moved. “You’ve got a lot of guts, Kaz. But it looks like you’re doing something right. This is... impressive.”

Kaz shrugged, a hint of nerves creeping into his demeanor. “It’s not about impressing anyone. It’s about being honest with myself and with her. I’m ready for this, ready to take the next step.”

Jesper clapped him on the back, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Well, I guess you’ve got my support.”

“I’ll go to Alice, ask her permission and everything,” Kaz said, his voice filled with determination.

Jesper raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on his face. “Didn’t think you were so old-fashioned.”

Kaz shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I’m not, and they’ll mock me about it forever, but deep down I know she’ll like teasing me about it.”

Jesper laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation and it’s not about Inej. I always thought you two would get married.”

Kaz sighed, a touch of nostalgia in his eyes. “Yeah, everyone did, me and her included. I never thought I could fall for someone else.”

Jesper leaned back, studying Kaz's face. “What changed? Do you understand it now?”

Kaz paused, thinking back to the moments that led him to Y/n. “Inej and I...we had something special. She understood me, but there were walls we couldn’t break down. We always thought that our strength was in our matching trauma, you know? Our similar issues. But with Y/n, I realized I needed someone who could balance it, not match it. She has her own set of problems and fears, ones that are so far from mine that I feel like I can actually help her, just as she did with me.”

Jesper nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That makes a lot of sense. It’s like you two complement each other.”

Kaz smiled, feeling a sense of clarity. “Exactly. With Y/n, it’s not about dwelling in our shared pain. She challenges me, but she also gives me a sense of stability I didn’t know I needed.”

Jesper clapped him on the back, grinning. “Well, it sounds like you’ve found something pretty special there.”

Kaz’s smile widened, a rare warmth spreading through him. “Thanks, Jesper. That means a lot.”

***

more notes: THE RING ENTERED THE CHAT PEOPLE

[not-goldy]

Lawyer Goldy, you can call me as a witness for your client. Not only did your client Jk try to spend time, he also tried to rope us into helping him. Not letting anyone forget "Jimin say yes to Jk" was trending worldwide when he was trying to lure Jm over using his nekkid chest in bed & dragged us in as his accomplice to help convince Jm to come to him.

This really trended because of Jk. lol

https://x.com/kmdinner/status/1833491314979094810

They even, your honor. Jm said you only come to my room cause you bored, well, be bored without me. lol. He let Jk grovel & sweat a bit, but eventually made it right. Makes me wonder about when Jk asked if anyone wants to hang out in the group chat, knowing he could call members. He knew Jm would see he was lonely & Hobi & Tae went and put him out of misery. Like he made it the public's problem. Chasing Jm on weverse, on Jm's lives, doing his own lives about Jm, in the group chat. Army talking to him during his Jm centered lives & he said this ain't about you, go take a nap. And they think he didn't call, text or make a real effort with Jm beside the scenes, while doing all that publicly? Send them to jail. Seems he was & why he took it public. He tried & then some & It worked. Now they living their best lives together, traveling, making memories & enlisted together. This is why they work. They meet each other halfway. It might take a minute, but eventually get there. Same with their arguments. They squash it immediately. And you can see they're just as happy as ever when they connect & nothing has changed. Still attracted, still flirting, still the same them. Jikook deserve more credit with how they handle their situationship, given the terrible situation they're in.

Damn you cooked

Your honor defense would like to tender this into evidence and have it marked as exhibit D.

The defense rests

[storiesdo]

Jonathan helped her into the dress, and she twirled around, giving him a peek upskirt. He nodded. “You look stunning,” he said.

“Thank you.” He led her hand in hand downstairs. “Are you hungry yet?” He asked. “I could go for some food right about now.” Her stomach grumbled in sympathy. She hadn’t eaten since early that morning.

“Sure,” Eliza said.

“I was thinking steak and pepper sauce,” said John. “It’s a little early for such a heavy meal, so maybe we should stretch it an hour, but I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so I’d like to eat soon. You know, I would take you to a nice restaurant, but we agreed not to go out in public.”

Eliza nodded. “Maybe some other time.” Seeding another appointment, she thought. It was somewhat cynical of her, but she felt it was entirely natural. She was only being honest. “You’re welcome to take me out, but we’d have to suspend the roleplay. But I don’t mind a nice home-cooked meal.”

Jonathan smiled. “I’m an excellent cook.”

“Maybe we could just cuddle and watch some TV to kill time,” Eliza suggested. “I love it when you stroke my hair.”

Jonathan seated himself on the coach and switched on some mindless reality show. The kind where there is no real goal, except for the contestants to back-stab each other as much as possible—when they’re not having sex, and solemnly swearing they never imagined they would be doing it on television, it just happened, because he or she’s the one. Eliza curled up beside him, and he obediently began stroking her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that he was her boyfriend, a trick she used whenever a client wanted romance rather than straight sex. It wasn’t hard to see this kind, caring and wealthy bachelor as a partner in another life. Eliza had a strict policy of separating business and pleasure—it wasn’t like she were actually falling for him. But with closed eyes, she could pretend. When she lay still, she hardly even noticed the difference in her underwear, but whenever she moved, the padding pushed into her and reminded her of what a little girl she was supposed to be.

Before she knew it, she was dreaming. The imagery faded as soon as Jonathan nudged her awake, but it had been a pleasant dream. “Hey, I didn’t say you could nap,” John said.

Eliza rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t sleep much last night. I’ll be a good girl and go to sleep for bedtime, that’s a promise.”

“I think it’s time for dinner,” John said. “Would you like to continue coloring for me, or would you like to help me cook?”

She told him she wanted to cook. Eliza had had enough coloring for one day. She needed some kind of stimulation. Pleasant though it was, life as a little girl was rather boring. One downside of her more romantic appointments was that they didn’t provide the same level of excitement as a sexual session. Her clients rarely knew how to inject excitement into a date. But as soon as she’d finished that train of thought, John was over her, pinning her down on the coach, and then he was tickling her. “Eeee!” She squeaked. It was unexpected, but she didn’t protest. She tried to contort her body so he couldn’t get to her most ticklish spots, but he was devious. One fake maneuver toward her armpits, and then he was lifting up the front of her dress, and for a moment she thought he was going to stick a hand down her diaper—but then he was blowing raspberries on her stomach, and Eliza couldn’t help but laugh. When she did, she let down her defenses up top, and he started on her armpits, the most ticklish spot on her body.

“Aaaah!” She said, laughing all the while. “Stop! Stop! I’m gonna pee!” She struggled to close her legs, but then he was tickling her under her feet, and she had to open them, and almost kicked him in the nose, barely missing his glasses. “I mean it! I’m ahhhahaaa—I’m gonna pee myself!”

He let up. “Let’s get you to the bathroom before it’s too late, then,” he said.

Eliza was red-faced and panting, exhausted from the assault of tickles. Her breath was heavy, and her chest was hurting from all the laughing, but her smile was genuine. None of her clients ever got into tickle fights with her. Hell, it was even a little bit hot. She’d experimented with forced orgasms using a vibrator and a willing, non-paid partner, and tickling was similarly painful and pleasant at the same time. But she didn’t want to pee herself. Eliza wanted to prove to John that she could last until seven. A little silly, she realized. She was an adult and had never peed her pants by accident, not since she was a toddler. Big Eliza, the sex worker, had nothing to prove. But Little Eliza certainly did, after her embarrassing accident earlier.

“I don’t really need to go,” she managed, after she regained her breath. “It’s just when you tickle me, I can’t control it.”

“Well, let’s try anyway. I can’t leave the kitchen once the plates are hot and things are cooking to take you to the bathroom, now can I? Here is a potty training lesson. When you know you won’t be able to go to the potty for a while, it’s smart to go before, just in case.” He offered a hand and led her upstairs. She followed, a light rustling of her underwear probably only audible to herself.

“Okay, down she goes,” John said, lowering her pull-up, “and up she goes!” Eliza allowed herself to be hoisted up on the toilet. “See if you can make a little tinkle for me.”

She tried, but nothing came out. Eliza wasn’t normally pee shy, but something about the situation made her clam up. “I can’t,” she said.

“Maybe if I turn on the tap?” John offered. Eliza closed her eyes and listened to the stream of water splashing into the sink. Finally, a slight tinkle began. “Good girl!” John said. “Now, do you know how to wipe, Eliza?”

Of course she did. And they had agreed on no touching in that area. Eliza found herself aching for some touch down there. The whole evening had been a long series of humiliations, and that was the sort of stuff that got her going. She’d never imagined herself being into this stuff, and to be honest, she couldn’t ever see herself roleplaying a little girl for her own pleasure. But the roleplay did facilitate humiliation, and that had her loins all wet and slippery. No. It might set a bad precedent. We’ll have to renegotiate. On the other hand… She did say no unnecessary touching of privates, did she not? What if it were necessary? She did allow him to clean her in the bath and dry her off, all over her body.

“Uh… Maybe you could show me?” She bit her lip and looked him in the eye. For a brief moment, he blushed, a little flustered, but then he was back in control.

“Of course, baby,” John said. “It’s very important that you keep clean down there, so you don’t get any nasty infections. You don’t want that, do you, Eliza?”

She shook her head.

John ceremoniously grabbed a piece of toilet paper. It was four-ply, premium quality, soft as silk. Eliza considered expensive toilet paper to be literally throwing money down the toilet, so she always went for the cheap stuff. Apparently, she didn’t know what she was missing. When John wiped her down, it was like being wrapped in a blanket of good emotions. “Teehee, it tickles,” she said.

“Oh,” said John. “I don’t think little girls need to think about that.”

Eliza was a little disappointed. “There, all done,” John said, and helped her slide the diaper up her hips. “Now let’s go cook some dinner.”

They entered a kitchen decked out with all the newest in stainless steel and Swedish design. It looked like something out of an unusually upscale IKEA catalog. There was a double-door refrigerator, two hypermodern stoves with electronic displays and more dials and buttons than Eliza’s laptop. “I’m afraid little girls and hot stoves don’t go well together,” John said. “But you can ready the table. Plates are over there,” he indicated the top of a tall cabinet, “and cutlery over there.”

Eliza tried to reach the shelf, but even on the tips of her toes, she wasn’t tall enough. The kitchen was clearly designed for someone John’s size. “I can’t reach up there,” she said.

“Silly me,” John said. He grabbed some plates and glasses, and she decked out the table. Then he kept her busy grabbing ingredients and explaining every step of the cooking process, just as if she were in grade school. It wasn’t the world’s most complicated meal, and Eliza was sure she could’ve managed it on her own. But she allowed him to teach her.

The meal was delicious. Medium rare steak, pepper sauce and cooked potatoes. Anything would have been good at this stage; it was close to five and she hadn’t eaten since around nine in the morning. But John wasn’t lying when he said he was a good cook.

Eliza tried to imagine herself as a young child. She deliberately missed with her fork, allowing some sauce to spill onto her face. Once she was done eating, John playfully scolded her for being a messy eater, and wiped it all away. “We’ll have to teach you some table manner,” he said, and laughed.

With the weight of a full belly, her tiredness returned. She wasn’t sure if she could keep her promise of staying awake until bedtime. When was that, anyway?

John led them back into the living room. She curled up on the coach, and he handed her a blanket. Eliza yawned. “I’m gonna stay awake, promise,” she said, by way of apology. He sat down beside her.

“It wasn’t easy,” John said. “Telling my ex about this fetish.” He stroked her hair. It was auburn, flowing down to her chest in curlicues. “I always knew, kind of. I always enjoyed caring for my baby brother, but not in a sexual way, of course. And then when I hit my teens, I would see these cute girls, and the guys would be like, ‘Damn, I’d like to fuck her.’ Behind her back, of course. And I’d go, ‘Yeah, man, you got it.’ But inwardly I’d be thinking, ‘I’d love to take her home, kiss her forehead and tuck her in.’”

“So it isn’t sexual at all for you?” Eliza said.

Jonathan blushed.

“Don’t think I haven’t caught you looking at me that way,” Eliza said. “It’s no big deal. I’m hiring out my body, after all. Feel free to think any dirty thoughts you want, as long as you don’t act out anything we didn’t agree on.”

He resumed stroking her hair. “Oh, Eliza. I have to admit, you’re stunning. And I could see myself in bed with you, having some adult fun. But I’m perfectly happy caring for you without touching you inappropriately. The truth is, when I look at you right now, I see a child and a woman at the same time. I’m attracted to the woman as a woman to do man-and-woman stuff with, and to the child as a child to care for.”

Eliza sat up. She didn’t want to pry into his evidently difficult feelings toward his ex, but he was the one to bring it up. She was curious. “So I take it your ex didn’t take the news very well?”

“I was a stuttering mess. I think if I’d proudly stated my preferences like they were no big deal, maybe things would have gone over differently. But I acted like I was ashamed of it, and so she assumed it was shameful.”

Eliza nodded. “Yeah,” she said, her sleepiness somewhat slurring her words and dragging them out. “I find that people almost always adopt the attitude that you project to the world. Act confident, they will see you as confident. Act ashamed, they will assume you have good reason for it and pile on with the shaming.”

“Jane told me maybe she could help me get over it,” John said. “Maybe there was some other fantasy we could act out that would make me forget all about little girls and diapers and all that. She offered anal. She even hinted that a threesome might be on the horizon, she had some open-minded friends—Jane is in the porn biz, after all. But once it became clear that it wasn’t a phase and it wasn’t something that would ever go away, it became a constant source of conflict. She just couldn’t deal with the fact that I was fantasizing about her as a little girl—I mean, as an adult acting like one, not that I was jerking off to her childhood portraits or something.”

“I’m sorry,” said Eliza.

“But she led me to you,” Jonathan said. “Jane told me you might be open to something like this.”

“I’m all yours, until tomorrow morning.”

Suddenly, his hand was under her skirt. He pushed against the dry padding of her crotch, but then he withdrew his hand as quickly as he put it up there. “Just checking,” he said. “Don’t want you leaking on the couch.”

Eliza wiggled free of him. “I’m a big girl and I don’t need this thing,” she said, lifting her skirt to indicate the diaper. The bottom of her breasts peaked out, giving him a nice little underboob look. “I told you, I’m gonna keep dry until seven.”

“We’re almost there, kitten. Just tell me if you need to go potty.”

They sat in silence for a while on the coach. Again, Eliza’s eyes drooped, and she had to fight for them to stay open. “Hey, could you make some coffee or something? I’m almost falling asleep here,” Eliza said.

“I would, but not so close to bedtime. I don’t want my baby all hyper when she’s supposed to go to sleep.”

Eliza sank back into the couch.

“I can tell you’re bored. We’re supposed to have fun! Don’t you forget that. Little girls are allowed to be fussy if they’re understimulated. Not too fussy, of course, or I’ll have to take them over the knee,” John added. “Look, it’s almost seven o’clock. Come with me to the bathroom. If your pull-up is still dry, we can forget about your accident earlier”—a blush, at that—“and go back to panties. Come with me.”

Eliza stayed where she was. She felt as if she’d eaten a pot brownie, and now she was couchlocked. If only she had some sleep the night before. She’d been worried about finances. Her landlord had hiked up the rent, and if John had decided to cancel on her for some reason, she’d have been shit out of luck. She saw now that she needn’t have worried. His fee alone would cover a month’s rent and more, but she couldn’t have known that he wouldn’t back out. A few of her clients had done that. The idea of hiring a prostitute sounded appealing, but when it came to it, they didn’t have it in them. Society at large still frowns upon the practice, no matter how consensual it is. What she did was technically illegal, although her operation was luxurious and professional enough that, in practice, she was largely safe from law enforcement. But some of her clients, like John, were upper class with a reputation to protect. Some were so worried about being blackmailed, they demanded video footage of her conducting the transaction, themselves conveniently off screen, in order to have some dirt on her. Eliza refused such requests, of course. But no matter the validity of her concerns, they’d kept her up at night, and now she didn’t want to do anything but close her eyes and drift into sleep.

John picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He was surprisingly strong for his lanky build. Then again, she was petite. John set her down in front of the toilet. “Okay, Eliza. Moment of truth. Did you have an accident, or are you still dry?”

“Still dry,” Eliza said, although her gaze was on the floor.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I check?” He asked.

Eliza lifted her dress in response. John slipped a finger into the side of her diaper, although his fingers never strayed toward her pussy. “Almost completely dry,” He said.

“I was turned on for a bit,” Eliza said. “That doesn’t count.”

“I suppose not,” John said. “Okay. Do you want panties for the rest of the night?”

Eliza nodded. John disappeared for a moment, although he stopped in the doorway to assure her he wasn’t leaving her alone for more than a minute, as if she were a child with separation anxiety.

Once he was back, he made her try to pee in the toilet again. This time, she managed a little trickle without the aid of a running tap. Then he slipped on her panties, and a little bit of her adulthood was restored. The used diaper went in a separate trash can, she noted. John really was prepared for everything.

Eliza’s eyes were drooping. “John, please, I really need that coffee if I’m going to stay awake,” she said. “Pretty please? Just a little cup.”

“No,” he said plainly. “And I don’t want to hear any more about it. Stop nagging.”

Eliza stopped and resisted his attempt to lead her onwards. “Please,” she said again. “I’m so tired. Don’t you want me to stay awake and play with you?”

“Enough,” John said.

She tried one last time. “Please?”

John turned around. His demeanor had changed. His size advantage had made him feel like a big, strong protector, but now it felt like a threat. Eliza took a step back. His face was red, his mouth contorted into a frown. “Enough is enough. You will go stand in the corner for twenty minutes, and if I hear as much as a peep from you, you’re going over the knee. Is that clear?”

Eliza gave an uncertain nod. She had awakened the beast. Eliza hadn’t seen this side of John before. One part of her was terrified; the other, secretly excited. He was finally warming up to the role of the Dominant in their scene. “But what if I need to go to the bathroom?” Eliza asked. “May I speak then?”

“You just went,” he said curtly. “You can hold it for twenty minutes. You were so eager to prove that you belong in panties, so here’s your chance. Come to think of it, I don’t want you to get dehydrated. I’ll bring you a bottle of water, and I expect you to finish it by the time your timeout’s up.”

Time passed glacially in the corner. She stared at the off-white wall and tried to distract herself with happy thoughts, occasionally taking a sip of water. It was no use. Her punishment was boredom, and she deserved it. Little Eliza had pushed it too far. Although her eyes drooped, standing up kept her awake. She attempted to sit down, thinking perhaps she could sneak in a powernap while John wasn’t watching, but he told her to stand up immediately.

Eliza was frustrated, tired, and now her stomach was starting to hurt, too. What do babies do when they’re sick and tired and want to get their will? They cry. Eliza wasn’t much of an actor—well, that wasn’t true. She was very good at inhabiting the roles her clients wanted her to play, but that was the extent of her abilities. Eliza couldn’t cry on command. But right now, she felt very much the fussy baby, and focusing on her tired and frustrated state made her all the more upset. Once she added in the mental image of her true love dumping her—that was long ago, before she stopped believing there was one and only one person out there for her—she managed a little sniffle, and soon tears were rolling down her cheeks. Quickly, John was beside her.

“Baby, don’t cry. What is it?” He said. His tone had changed from stern to paternal concern.

“I’m tired. My tummy hurts. I don’t want to stand in this stupid corner anymore,” she said, between sniffles. All of which was true. That part wasn’t an act.

John looked her over. She was standing there in a juvenile summer dress, the one he had put her in after she peed in her first outfit of the day (second, really, since he had removed the one she came in). She had puffy eyes and drying tears down her cheeks. The sight of her so miserable seemed to break through his defenses. John squatted down beside her and gave her a hug. “Now, now, don’t cry, sweet child. I think you’ve learned your lesson about disobeying me. Haven’t you, kitten?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Eliza said.

[shyficwriter]

“Okay sweetcheeks, what do you propose we do?” with Yondu maybe?

I love your writing btw <3

[Thank you! Send me a sentence starter!]

“Okay sweetcheeks, what do you propose we do?” Yondu said to you in a biting tone. You had just finished stating the obvious that there were too many of the little blue rodents swarming to kill them all as Yondu called back his arrow. Unfortunately, at the same time, you had no solution.

The two of you were currently stood on a flat rock the size of a small table about a foot or two off the ground as the little blue rodents swarmed in a mini stampede throughout the cave the two of you had entered to escape the sudden storm outside. You must have disturbed them with your presence.

This was supposed to be an easy job. Come to Berhert, grab some weird moss for some client, and get out. Now you were surrounded by little creepy blue rodents. You knew you should have gone with Peter to Xandar on that supply run, but nOoO, you just had to go see the forest.

After a couple moments of no answer from you, Yondu crouched down looked back at the rodents. He hadn't recognized them at first, mistaking them for a different type of rodent with a venomous bite, and that's why he had ushered the two of you up onto the rock. However now, upon a chance to reflect, he realized that these rodents weren't their venomous cousins, and declared the two of you would probably be ok to walk about them. Maybe make a fire and cook a few later if the rain didn't let up outside.

"Um, I-I think we're good," you say, "We can just stay up here. The rain should let up soon, and-and they'll probably go back to wherever they're spawning from soon enough if we leave them alone."

Yondu stood and rolled his eyes before chuckling. "Don't tell me you're scared of those little critters now," he teased.

"I'm not!" you refute, slightly pouting.

"Well if ya ain't scared then why ya wanna stay cramped up here then for?"

"It's not that cramped," you say. It wasn't totally a lie. There was maybe enough room to fit two adults to sit, but not much more. You decided to sass him a bit for implying you were scared. "Besides, it's not like you smell that bad," you say with a slight smirk.

Yondu half-frowned at the insult and reached over to jab you in the ribs, earning a strangled giggle from you as you jumped.

He raised an eyebrow and poked you a few more times with an amused smirk, enjoying your reaction.

"Cut that out! It tickles!" you scold, his last poke making you need to reach out and grab him to catch your balance before you stumbled off the rock.

"Watch out, ya don't wanna fall into all those little critters now." he teased, poking you some more. If nothing else, this could provide him with some entertainment for a bit.

"Then quit poking me!" you scold again, jumping and jerking each time his finger connected with your ribs or stomach. He was right, you really didn't want to fall into them. The thought of having them crawl all over you made you shudder.

Yondu's mouth twitched up in a mischievous grin and he shrugged, complying with your request only to switch to properly tickling you, his fingers now spidering over your sides.

You spasmed and nearly fell off the rock again, squealing for him to knock it off before you fell. Of course, he didn't listen, having too much fun as he tormented you and teasingly kept saying, "Watch out, yer gonna fall!"

"Yondu! No! Quit it! This isn't fair!" you cried out through giggles. "You're gonna make me fall! No!" You just manage to right yourself again and realize that you need to lower your center of gravity. Grabbing his wrists you manage to give just enough of a shove to put him slightly off balance and then you immediately drop to a sitting position, curling your legs up to your chest and wrapping your arms around your knees to prevent any chance that your feet might dangle off the edge and risk one of the rodents jumping up on your leg.

Yondu laughed and knelt down. "You really think that's gonna save ya?" he taunted, reaching out to briefly wiggle his fingers in your armpit.

You let out a short shriek and immediately unfolded as your legs kicked out, making Yondu laugh and slap his knee at your reaction.

You were now turned slightly to face him the best you could and you held your arms out in defense. "Don't!" you whined mixed with residual giggles. "Don't make me fall!"

"What ya scared of those little rodent critters for?" Yondu laughed. "They ain't gonna hurt ya!"

You could feel your cheeks burning. "I'm not scared!"

Yondu smirked and started poking you again. "Sure ya ain't."

You started to jerk and squirm away from his assault, squeaking, "I'm not! Cut it out!"

"Admit it. Yer scared of them," he replied, now properly tickling your ribs again.

You threw your head back and cackled wildly, kicking out as you tried to lean back without falling backward. "No! No please!" you cried out in laughter, "Yondu! This isn't funny!"

Yondu just laughed at you. "I think it's plenty funny." He then moved his hands up to tickle under your arms and laughed along with you as you had to grab onto his arm to stop yourself from falling backwards. "Go on now, admit yer scared and I might consider not lettin' ya fall into that big swarm of them underneath ya."

"YONDU!" you screech, "Please! This isn't fair!" You wanted to let go of his arm so you could grab his hands, but if you let go you'd fall because you couldn't help but lean away from the ticklish feeling and then those creepy little things would surely crawl all over you. Your choices were hold on and be tickled, or let go and fall into a sea of rodents. Clearly, not much of a choice.

Yondu laughed at you, knowing he was being absolutely unfair, but it was just too funny watching you struggle as you tried to lean away from the tickling, but yet had to grip onto his duster jacket to keep yourself from falling because you had leant too far away to keep yourself upright. That, and he could tell you your grip was loosening.

You had realized this too, and started begging more urgently for him to quit tickling you. "No! No! Stop it! Please! I'm gonna fall!" you cried out, your laughter now panicked and squeaky. "Please! Please! I can't! You're making me fall!" You then squealed louder and kicked at the rock in desperation when he dug a little more into your armpits. It tickled so much it was practically unbearable. "Please! Don't! I can't!" Your words came out high and squeaky and your grip was loosening more. You couldn't hold on much longer. It was time to give in. "Ok! Ok! You win! Please! Just don't let me f-"

You hands finally slipped off his duster.

You fell.

It wasn't far. Again, you were only a little bit off the ground, but that didn't change the shriek that ripped from your throat as you felt yourself fall onto your upper back.

You jumped up immediately and swatted at yourself as you cried out for a good couple moments before you realized you weren't covered in tiny blue rodents.

Yondu could be heard absolutely laughing his ass off.

You glanced around in confusion. "They're... gone...?"

Yondu nodded through his laughter. After a moment he was able to manage speech. "They all cleared out a bit ago, but you should have seen your face! That was too good!" He continued laughing at you.

You frowned at him. "If you knew they were gone why did you keep torturing me! You made me think I was about to fall into hundreds of those creepy little things!"

Yondu finally stood, still chuckling. "So ya finally admit you were scared of 'em, then?" he teased, "And 'cause yer easy to pick on. Had to find something to pass the time." He shrugged and stepped off the rock, nodding towards the cave entrance. "Looks like the rain's let up too. Let's get a move on." He then started walking away like nothing happened.

You frowned and followed. "You're impossible," you grumble at him.

Yondu just turned to shrug at you with a smirk. "Would have been over quicker if ya'd just admitted ya was scared of them. Not my fault ya make it so easy to tease ya."

"I'll get you back for that," you threatened.

Yondu just chuckled and rolled his eyes, delivering one final poke to your stomach, the resulting giggle making your threat much less threatening. "Uh huh. Sure ya will, scaredy pants."

[pokesaurio]

I find it hard to believe that New Amsterdam has such little fanfiction. It’s a great show! So I decided to write something for the Leyren ship (which I would usually never do) to fix this! Hope you enjoy :)

Summary: How the Dam Fam finds out about Lauren’s new roommate.

Helen:

“So, naturally, you offered her to live with you” said Helen sarcastically, incredulous at Lauren’s out of character decision.

“Well, yes, she has become my friend after all, and I couldn’t let her alone in the streets”, replied Lauren matter-of-factly.

“Hmm. And how’s it going?” Helen rose an eyebrow suspiciously.

“It’s...” Lauren let out a small sigh, “It’s effortless, really. I feel like she’s always been there”. The “which scares me” was left unsaid.

Helen patiently waited until Lauren disclosed more, knowing her friend usually needed more time to open up.

“Well, except for the massive tree in the middle of the living room. Which I don’t dislike, but...”

“What?!” This got Helen’s attention. Since when was Bloom known to decorate her apartments, let alone let another person do so... with living things?!

“Well, she bought a tree, said it reminded her of home. But apparently it was smaller in the picture, so now I have a full-blown tree in my living room. And I think I like it” that last part she muttered softly.

Helen let out a small, genuine smile, amused but also proud of her friend. “That looks like progress. You haven’t yet snapped her head off for touching your space, so I’d say that’s a point for Lauren’s intimate relationships”.

“Pfft. It’s not very intimate if I still don’t know about her. I have tried to learn what she likes, but she still won’t really tell me about herself. It’s a little frustrating really” Lauren let out an adorable pout.

“Well, give her time. She is living in a stranger’s house after all, in a new country and with probably no other connections or friendships here. I can’t imagine she trusts people easily” said Helen patiently.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mama Bear is at it again. Free advice for all!” Lauren laughed.

Helen snorted. “Well, it’s taken me nowhere with Mina. Still don’t know how this motherly figure thing works, sadly” she stated defeatedly.

“Oh, come on! You’re doing great! She’s slowly respecting her school timetable and your curfews more, right? And she hasn’t put a massive tree in your living room. That has to count for something” said Lauren, pointing her finger at Helen as she walked towards her ED. “You’ve got this!” and she gave Helen her best thumbs up and exaggerated smile.

Casey:

Lauren haphazardly threw her stuff into her backpack and went for the door, ready to call it a day and head back home.

“Lauren, you’re rushing out” Casey said suspiciously as he entered the locker room. “I assume this means you’re gonna continue smuggling your friend here? Cause if it does, you should know you are risking even more than before. If they catch you again...”

“No, Casey, it’s not like that” Lauren stated. “Don’t worry, she won’t be coming back here”.

“So that means... you let her go? Do you know where she is?” said Casey, now concerned about Leyla’s wellbeing.

“She’s actually... living with me?” said Lauren, the last part coming out in a rush and higher pitch.

“What?” asked Casey, wide-eyed. “Lauren, she- what?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave her on the streets, and I figured since I’m never home it couldn’t hurt to give her my spare room” justified Lauren to what seemed like Casey and herself.

“Okay, Lauren, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, you are risking a lot for this stranger. Please be careful” said Casey, though not unkindly. He was just worried about his friend.

“But that’s just it, Casey. She’s not a stranger, not anymore, and I would have done the same for any one of you. I protect my people” said Lauren, now sounding much more convinced.

“Well, if you’re happy with your decision, I can only congratulate you. You finally have a friend outside of work!” he added with a smile, teasing Lauren.

Lauren swatted his arm playfully. “I forgot, Mr Popular here knows most of New York. And I might have one friend, but it’s a hard one” she said, giving him the finger.

“Okay, okay!” Casey laughed, raising his arms defensively. “You win. But Lauren” he said softly “I am happy for you. Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing”.

“Thanks” said Lauren with a smile, squeezing his arm lightly as she left.

Lauren:

She did know what she was doing. Right. Right? It wasn’t like Leyla was a random stranger, not anymore, and she liked her enough that living together had been smooth sailing so far. So why did she find herself overthinking everything when it came to Leyla?

“Get your shit together, Lauren” she chanted to herself. She was driving home, her palms sweating slightly, but still excited to get there. She had been rushing out a lot lately. The memory of Leyla’s soft smile as she held her hand, fingers interlocking and fitting perfectly as they stared at the tree and Lauren’s want, need to be close, oh so close, a compass searching North. She couldn’t wait to get home to Leyla’s sarcasm, Leyla’s dinners, Leyla’s subtle presence in her apartment and life that made it theirs.

Without noticing, Lauren had been smiling like an idiot for at least half an hour, and she had arrived to her portal. She got out of the car and went for the stairs, taking twice at a time. But as she opened the door, a wave of disappointment washed over her. Leyla wasn’t home, had probably had to take a DriverTime client, and suddenly the apartment felt empty and cold again. Lauren couldn’t understand how she had lived like this for so long before.

But then a thought sprung to mind. Leyla had waited for her every day for the past week, staying up and meeting her with a fabulous home-cooked dinner after work. The least she could do was reciprocate, so Lauren got ready to prepare a mindblowing meal or die trying. Cooking had never been her strong suit, but she figured it couldn’t be too hard.

She remembered Leyla mentioning she deeply missed Pakistani cuisine, and how she had been disgusted by Lauren suggesting she try a Pakistani restaurant around the corner. “You Americans think you can serve a random dish and rebrand an entire culture. That place is not Pakistani”, she had stated. So Lauren had asked, and she had learned, how Nihari reminded her of late night dinners at home and Lassi was her all-time favourite beverage. And so she had a single thought in mind; today she was making the best Pakistani dinner for Leyla.

As she set out to spice the assortion of different meets, she re-entered her previous reverie. She knew Leyla would love this, even if Lauren was probably going to ruin the recipe and tarnish the Pakistani name. But Leyla would smile sweetly, as she did every time Lauren remembered a small detail about her and did her best to make her feel like home, and she would be grateful. Lauren could not wait until she came back, excited to see that look on her face that said “no one’s ever cared for me like this, and I’m glad you’re the first one”.

Slow-cooking the meat into a stew proved difficult, and mixing the yoghurt, water, spices and fruit for the Lassi had Lauren seriously questioning her cooking skills. But all in all, after about an hour she decided she had done a pretty good job. She set out to dress the table, going as far as opening a good red wine and placing a candle. She didn’t want to overdo it, but thought Leyla would decidedly not mind and find her efforts cute. Lauren was struck by the inclusion of “cute” into her vocabulary, could not remember when she had cared about someone’s reaction this much, and decided damn Leyla and her faint smiles had softened her. She couldn’t bring herself to care, though.

And just like clockwork, as soon as Lauren set the last plate with the fine-looking Nihari on the table, Leyla entered the apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!” she shouted jokingly in her beautiful accent.

“Hey! How was work? Any frat boys I should beat up?” said Lauren smiling.

“No frat boys, thankfully. Just an old lady telling me about her grandson. I must have seen like 30 photos of him, and let me tell you, no one can convince me babies are cute. They’re bald!” Leyla proclaimed, dignified.

Lauren snorted. “Of course you would befriend a grandma and have her show you her family. It must be your cranky charm” replied Lauren teasingly.

“You would be surprised. I cause sensation amongst octogenarians” said Leyla amusedly. As she caught the smell of cooked meat, she looked at Lauren, surprised. “You cooked? You? Is MY tree burnt down?” she joked.

“I’ll let you know, OUR tree is intact and very much still alive. And don’t you dare take away my custody, I love him like my own son too!” said Lauren in mock dignification. “I did cook, and I hope you like it” she continued, now softly. She met Leyla’s eye, hope and wonder sparkling bilaterally.

Leyla approached the table, repressing a squeel of excitement at the site of her favourite foods. “Lauren! You shouldn’t have! How did you even-?” and as she turned around to look at Lauren, the intensity in her eyes stunned her. The amount of care and adoration was palpable there, and it was enough to overwhelm her.

“Thank you”, she said in a small voice.

“I thought you deserved something special. You know, for cooking horrible meals every day” Leyla approached her slowly, still with eyes locked in an intense duel. “You would think as a doctor my main threat of illness would come from my patients, but you make a hard run for it” another step closer. “And besides, knowing my cooking skills it’s probably very bad. So we’re even” she continued rambling. Leyla finally took the final step towards Lauren, cupping her cheek and forcing her to shut up.

“You talk too much”, she said, resting on her tiptoes slightly to reach for her cheek and place a soft kiss there. “Thank you, truly”.

Lauren stood there, transfixed and unable to utter words. “Y-Yeah. It’s... nothing, really” she managed to muster.

Leyla tried to fight off a smile at Lauren’s awkwardness. During the course of her stay at Lauren’s- their- apatment, she had been quick to discover that she could turn Lauren, the hard-assed doctor and witty friend, into a rambling mess with well placed silences and touches. And naturally, she had immediately taken a liking to doing so as often as possible.

She turned around and sat at the table, staring down at her food and trying not to show her satisfaction at the amount of time it took Lauren to recompose herself and sit with her. She let Lauren pour some wine for herself, seeing as she didn’t look too enthused with the Lassi, and tried the Nihari. And, oh god, it certainly wasn’t like the one she enjoyed back home, but Lauren had undoubtedly achieved something here. Leyla couldn’t stop a moan from escaping her lips.

Lauren sat across from her, lips parted, staring at her like she was the only thing in the world. Her eyes slowly trailed to her lips, and Leyla thought she might burst if she didn’t break the moment soon. “Lauren, it’s- it’s perfect” said Leyla, and she meant it. It might not be like the one back home, but Lauren had managed to capture a new flavour, to redefine the very meaning home. She could get used to this.

Lauren looked back up at her, smile back in place. “Really? That’s new” she said, satisfied and proud of her achievement.

As they ate in silence, Lauren realised two things. One, she was definitely falling in love with Leyla Shinwari. And two, while Leyla had been her roommate for a few weeks already, it was only now that she felt like they were actually _living_ together... building a home.

Iggy:

“Hey, Iggs! I haven’t caught up with you in a while! How’s everything going?” asked Lauren as she entered Iggy’s office, taking the sofa and sprawling out on it.

Iggy stopped flicking through his charts, immediately knowing something was up. He could tell Lauren was properly glowing, but knew he would have to let this play out if he wanted to get any information out of his friend.

“Lauren! It’s great to see you. I’ve been great. I went to see a nutritionist, and I’ve been trying to join some virtual support groups for people with eating disorders. I still have a long road ahead of me, and I have to put in the work, but thanks for calling me out on my bullshit. Truly” he said sincerely.

Lauren perked up even more, rising to her feet and reaching around Iggy’s desk to hug him. “Iggy! That’s great! I’m so glad to hear it, and I’m so proud of you. And hey, you called me out on my bullshit when I was using, so it was only fair I did the same” she smiled.

Iggy returned her smile, glad to see that both of them were making amends and working to improve their lives.

He rose up to start walking to his next consult, not wanting this conversation to end but really needing to get there on time. After Lauren followed him along, curiosity finally got the best of him. “Okay, I have to ask... What’s gotten into you? You look like you just got to perform one of your supper cool surgeries or something. Anything new?” he asked.

“Well, I’m doing well” she said as they strolled down New Amsterdam’s corridors. Iggy waited patiently, letting Lauren open up at her own speed. “And... and I got a roommate!”

Iggy frowned, perplexed. He knew Lauren, knew how much she valued her space and how closed-off she could be, so he couldn’t fathom why getting a roommate would be something she’d want to do, let alone be the cause of her exuberant joy. “Wha... How?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a long story, really. She came in with a patient, and kind of guessed what was wrong with her, but it turned out it wasn’t a guess, cause she’s really a doctor, but obviously I didn’t know that” she started rambling, with Iggy finding it hard to follow along.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down” he said, though he was glad to see Lauren so excited about something.

“Yeah, sorry. Basically, she pulled off a successful needle decompression in my ED, which I now admit was pretty cool, I called security, she had no place to stay, used the hospital closet for a while... And now she’s living with me” finished Lauren, looking way too satisfied by her explanation.

“She... You... What?!” asked Iggy, dumbfounded.

“Yeah... She’s kind of a lot. In the good way” said Lauren, and it was clear to Iggy by now that she was positively smitten. At this new information, he changed tactics.

“Wow, Lauren, that’s a huge step! I’m happy for you, and so proud. I’d love to meet her sometime” he said.

“Yeah! That’d be great! I’m sure you’d love her, once you get past her cranky façade. You two would totally get along” replied Lauren excitedly.

Iggy knew how possessive Lauren was of her space, knew how much it meant for her to have friends meet even if she may not do it consciously. The fact that she was agreeing to let him meet her meant he was right; Lauren was smitten beyond recognition.

“Great! And what’s it like, living with this...” he trailed off, hoping to get a name out of Lauren for once.

“Leyla! It’s great. Yesterday I cooked her some Pakistani dinner, cause she missed it from back home, and then we watched a comedy and watered our big-ass tree. Don’t ask. It’s like she’s lived with me all along” she finished bashfully.

And Iggy had to assume Lauren knew how this sounded, how many lesbian stereotypes she was ticking off. So he replied, amusedly, “Tell me, Lauren, does this Leyla know you two are dating?” he said, a mischiveous twinkle in his eye.

Lauren stopped abruptly in the corridor, a horrified look on her face. Iggy repressed a laugh, was thrilled by Lauren’s new baby-gay side. He turned around to look at her, saw her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as she searched for a reply, but continued walking backwards. “Wait... do you?” he asked, now enjoying Lauren’s alarmed look. He turned around a corner, leaving a dumbfounded Lauren behind, and shouted, “Good luck!”

[constancelaufeydottir]

Help me, help you

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Attempted suicide, mentions of mental illness and eating disorders, angst, fluff(?)

Summary: You seek help from the stranger who saved you the night you sought for an escape, maybe you weren’t the only one who needs saving.

A/N: This is my first ever fic here! I’ve never written anything before and I’m really anxious to put this out here, please bear with me if I make any grammatical mistakes and let me know what you think!

You probably shouldn’t be doing this. They said you’d disappoint your family and people around you would be sad. But the water, it’s tempting. A dive, and your problems would be gone.

To be honest, you don’t think you family cares at all. They’ve got bigger things to worry about, you sister’s engagement, your brother’s enrolment in college. After all, you were the unwanted kid, an accident. The only time you caught your parents’ attention was when you butchered your job interview. You had prepared thoroughly but a stomach bug ruined it all and your parents blamed you for it, saying they always knew you were a failure, a disgrace to the family.

They didn’t even ask where you were going tonight. They never cared unless you had big achievements in your life or maybe when your failure was too huge for them to ignore.

The sloshing of the water is luring you to jump into it. The deep dark waters inviting you to join the others who had succeeded before you. You moved your feet a little towards the edge of the railings, embracing the chilling midnight wind as you closed your eyes. This is the end, you thought, your foot dangling over the railings ready to plummet into the river.

You felt an arm circling your waist and pulling you backwards until your back hit the ground, a palm caging the back of your head, preventing it from hitting the hard ground.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” You heard a deep voice coming from the right side of your body, hands were on your shoulders gently shaking. You blinked a few times, the blinding lights made you wince as you closed your eyes again with your hand shielding them.

The man who saved you helped you sat up, kneeling beside you to ensure your safety. You took time to have a close look at the good Samaritan. His hair was long, stopping a little lower down his ears. Eyes was the colour of the ocean, almost enticing as the water. His chin adorned with a scruffy beard, lips curving in a small smile. If it weren’t for your bad mood right now, you would have joked that he looked like a modern version of Jesus.

“Why?” You whispered, so quietly if not for his enhance hearing, the man wouldn’t have heard you. “Why did you save me?” You cried out, hands trembling as they grasped the collar of his bomber jacket. Your teary face surprised him and your sniffles made his heart tightened.

“I- I can’t let you die!” He exclaimed. The tears in your eyes spilled out again as you collapsed into the stranger’s chest, crying your heart out. He felt the vulnerability in your voice and hugged you tighter, palms meeting behind you and patted your back to comfort you.

You didn’t know how long you sat there crying in the man’s arms. Your tears soaked the dark red Henley underneath his jacket, causing it to stick onto his firm chest but he did not utter a single word, instead opting to calm you down.

You had no idea how you got home, except for the fact that you vaguely recalled ending up in the arms of a certain stranger, the rest was a blur.

You woke up on the couch the next morning, your phone alarm blaring. The hard rectangular metal was digging the soft flesh of your butt and you groggily dig it out of your back pocket turning the alarm off.

There was a sweet smell of pancake wafted from the kitchen and you sniffed at the smell, face scrunching when you didn’t remember having someone over. The thought of someone unfamiliar inviting themselves into your house alarmed you and your hastily got up from the couch, a pillow in your hand as you inched slowly towards the kitchen. Peeking your head around the corner, you found a tall and broad figure in the space, hands fumbling around with something. You couldn’t see clearly who that was, your glasses were in your bedroom the last time your saw it.

You knew the stranger in your house could never be your brother because one, he was an asshole who gave no fucks about his sister’s life and two, your both hated each other’s guts. Your breath quickened as the intruder suddenly turned his head towards your direction. You yelped as you threw the pillow at him, or the general direction where he was standing.

Of course, you missed the target when he walked towards you. “Shit, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die.” You shut your eyes as you heard his footsteps getting closer and closer to you.

“Hey, you’re awake!” You squinted at the man, trying to make out the features of his blurry face. He looked oddly like the guy who saved you on the bridge last night. He moved closer to you when he realized you couldn’t see him clearly. Your eyes widen at the sudden close proximity, your lips were slightly parted. You could feel his breath against your face, his long lashes and that steel blue eyes.

“Y-you!” Instantly, you were conscious of your own appearance, your eyes must have been puffy from last night’s non-stop crying. There were probably still dried tears on your face. Adverting your gaze from his, you looked to the side as you slid out of the slightly awkward situation. Walking towards the counter, you pulled out a wet tissue and wiped your stiff face with it then retrieving the cold spoons you kept in the freezer.

He laughed when you put the spoons on your eyes, you sighed at the cool sensation soothing the puffiness of your eyelids. “Don’t laugh. It’s effective,” you glared at him.

“Alright, alright.” He threw his hands up. “I’m Bucky,” his hand extended outward, waiting for you to shake it. “Y/N.” He smiled, eyes crinkled as you reciprocate the gesture.

He cooked you breakfast, although it was a simple one, you were still grateful.

“Thank you for last night,” you gave him a genuine smile as he was seated across you on the dining table, stuffing his mouth with the pancakes. “It’s nice to see that someone cares.” This time you smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and he caught it.

Grabbing your hand across the table, he looked at you in the eyes with sincerity. “It’s the least I could do.” Taking a deep breath, cautiously he spoke up. “Y/N, I know it’s not my place to say this but seek for professional help if you aren’t feeling fine. Maybe just talk to someone or … go see a therapist.”

“Are you insinuating that I have depression?” You scoffed. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you snatched your hand from his grasp and crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively.

Depression? No, you couldn’t have had depression. It’s a sign of weakness, you father said. Depression is just a fancy term to describe one’s laziness, that’s what your mother told you.

“I’m not insinuating anyt-”

“Get out,” you interrupted, “get out of my house!” Enraged, you pointed towards the door while snapping at him. How dare he, a stranger suggested that there was something wrong with you.

Sighing, Bucky gave you a taut smile while nodding then placed a piece of paper on the coffee table on his way out. “Here’s my number in case you needed any help.” He paced towards the door opening it, giving you a last glance before leaving.

It’s been weeks now since you yelled at Bucky to get out of your house. You felt bad and deep down there you knew he was right, but the stigma surrounding mental illnesses was extremely terrifying to you. Not to mention what will happen if your family found out. You were a major disappointment in your household already and you definitely wouldn’t want to add a mental illness into the mix.

You were sitting in your office, typing on the keyboard furiously. Honestly you didn’t know why you were still here. This job sucks, even though the salary was high and you’d just been promoted to manager of the department. Chewing on your nails and bouncing your legs under the desk, you felt the need to just leave everything and go home.

The drive home was painful, you simply had no energy to do so but you still had to go home, your only safe place. Taking off your shoes, changing out your clothes, you lied on the bed. Your stomach grumbled, protesting at the lack of food in your system but you just couldn’t get yourself off the bed to make something for yourself. Your mind travelled back to the day you were on that bridge. You didn’t actually seek for death, all you sought for was an escape. An escape from reality, from your parents, from the constant judgements of people surrounding you.

As you closed your eyes, you wished that tomorrow never comes.

Another day, another disappointment. You were still alive, and the world seemed a wee bit duller than before. Skipping breakfast, you went to work as usual, plastering the faux smile on your face which everybody seemed to liked and expected from you. In this workplace, everybody’s gotta put on a façade and that included you but you dreaded the day where there would be a crack in your mask. Until then, you just had to work harder to reinforce it because according to your parents, nobody would want to see the real you, it was unpleasant … and ugly.

“I gotta say. Miss Y/L/N, you are spectacular. Being one of the Y/L/N, I bet it was a lot of pressure but you have done such amazing job, I think your parents would be so proud of you.” A client who was a family friend was seated across you, a wide grin on her face as her face crinkled rambling about how lucky you were being born into a family filled with successful people.

You smiled and thank her for her compliments, cutting the steak your ordered into bite-size pieces. Poking into one of the pieces with your fork, you lifted it up to your lips. Taking a deep breath, you put it into your mouth and instantly you felt like you were about to throw up. Fighting the urge to spit it out, you endured the taste of the meat as you bite at it mechanically. Looking down at your plate of steak, you no longer feel the appetite to consume any more of it.

Everyday you woke up, you wondered how long would it be until the colours faded into grey. Perhaps it was the only thing keeping you alive right now, counting the days until the beautiful hue of the sunsets no longer amazes you; the sight of puppies doesn’t excite you; the thought of having ice cream whenever you can no longer sounds appealing to you.

You should get some help, you really should. Your body was deteriorating, you could feel it. You weren’t in denial anymore; you knew there was something gravely wrong about you. Your body couldn’t afford being in denial. The loss of radiance in your face, the hair and weight loss and most importantly, you couldn’t put on a façade anymore.

Bucky rushed towards your apartment when you called, he could hear how shaky your voice was. He was extremely worried the past weeks even though he had only met you once. Maybe it was because he was in that dark place before and was able to relate or maybe he took a liking to you. He found himself constantly wondering whether you were well and how long would it take for your stubborn ass to call him.

He arrived at your place as fast as he could, probably drove past a few red lights but he couldn’t care less. He was more worried about you that the fine he would have to pay.

Bucky stormed past the hallway, straight to your unit and knocked on the door when he couldn’t open it. He received no response from you and his mind immediately went straight to the negative thoughts. His heart raced as he banged on the door, shouting your name several times.

He was about to break his way into your apartment when he saw the door opened slightly, your tired eyes meeting his concerned ones. He made his way into the space and immediately got the wind knocked out of him when you hurled yourself into his chest.

“Imsorryimsorryimsorry.” You kept chanting your apologies as you broke down in his embrace. You felt as if you were floating in the middle of the ocean succumbing into nothingness and he was the anchor, helping you to stay in one place. He was a mere stranger to you yet he witnessed every vulnerable side of you, if only your family could share the same level of concern as he did.

“Shh, shh. I’m here now,” he guided both of you to the couch with you still tightly in his arms, smoothing a palm on your back gently patting you. You hiccupped, eyes teary while you tried to calm yourself down. The tears however would not co-operate, it was like a broken faucet and no matter what you try it wouldn’t fix itself. “I’m really sorry for lashing out last time.”

He didn’t say anything, only wiped your tears with the sleeve of his sweater instead. Maybe it was the fatigue of crying too much or the absence of food in your body, you drifted into sleep in his arms while he hummed songs to you.

You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard the heavy breaths of the man. Half awake, you blindly reach out for your glasses on the night stand, vision clearer as you saw the door to your bedroom was wide opened. Getting on your feet, you moved towards the source of the noises carefully and realized it came from Bucky who was now thrashing on the couch in your living room.

He was groaning, clutching at his left arm painfully as if it was burned. A sheen of sweat could be seen on his forehead, strays of hair sticking onto the sides of his face. The front of his wife beater clung onto his chest soaked by perspiration. His groans soon turned into agonizing screams as he tossed and turned on your couch. You noticed webs of burn scars littering the expanse of his left shoulder to his arm and felt your heart tightened at the sight of it.

You hastily knelt in front of the couch, hand gripping on his shoulder and his face. “Bucky! Bucky!” His eyes shot open at your voice, flinching at the sight of you. Hands balled into fists in front of his chest, he was ready to take on any attack coming at his way. He visibly relaxed when he broke out of the haze, pushing his hair back with his hand with a bashful look on his face.

His muscles tensed when your hand reached out to his shoulder, but then slackened when you pulled him into a hug. His head fell onto your shoulder as you patted on his back like how he did for you just a few hours ago, ignoring the sweat gliding down his skin.

It must have been hours; the two of you sitting there in an embrace on your couch, not wanting to let each other go after what you both have been through. No one spoke a word and there was only silence in the large apartment of yours. The faint ray of sunlight peeked through the blinds, gleaming into your apartment reminding you to start the day.

He was the one who broke the hug, an awkward silence now surrounding the both of you. “Thank you … for helping me, even though I was supposed to be the one helping you,” his voice was raspy from the groans and moans. “It’s … uh nothing,” you shrugged, dragging your worn body to make some hot chocolate for him even though your body was screaming for you to lay in the bed, rotting your day away.

Your hands trembled as you passed him the mug. “Where’s yours?” Your head tilted at his question, not quite sure what he was asking about.

“Y/N, how long have you not eaten anything?” You turned your head away, not meeting his determined gaze. You wished he didn’t catch the glint of guilt in your eyes, but you knew he did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He clenched his jaw at your statement.

“You called me, Y/N. You called me because you need help and I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.” You gulped at his words. His eyebrows were furrowed and it triggered a fear in you; you didn’t want to disappoint him like you did to your parents.

Your lips quivered a little, eyes darting to the carpet. “I couldn’t find the energy to eat, it’s just too much work. These days it’s either eat or shower. Since I don’t have any appetite anymore, I dedicated all the energy to shower then. But I have a feeling that I might not even have the energy to drag myself to take a shower or even get up in the mornings soon. It’s just so tiring, where do people even get those energy from?”

“Well, we’ll deal with it one step at a time, okay?” Bucky tilted your chin up to make you look him in the eyes. You whispered a meek ‘ok’, suddenly tired at the lack of sleep.

He handed you the now warm hot chocolate, a stern stare on his face. “At least have some fluids in your system, please.” His gaze softened when he saw you gulping at the sight of the warm brown liquid, nose scrunched up in disgust.

He noticed your discomfort and gestured you to wait while he went to your kitchen and rummaged around the drawers only to return with a spoon.

“Baby steps, okay? Just 5 spoons of it then we’re done.” You nodded while he passed the spoon to you.

The whole morning was spent with Bucky in the living room, him giving your warm encouraging smiles whenever you managed to swallow a spoonful of the chocolate drink.

“Go get some sleep,” he gave your knee a few light taps before proceeding to pull you off the couch and guide you back to your room, then went back to the couch himself to get some shut-eye.

Sending a message to your assistant that you would have to take a few days off, you didn’t wait until you get a reply and plopped yourself on the bed, once again drifting into sleep hoping tomorrow would be better than today.

[staywritten]

A Love That Last│Bang Chan

A Love That Lasts │ Chapter Ⅰ

Synopsis: You’ve spent the last two years, helping your very handsome next door neighbor raise his adorable daughter. The two of you fell into a routine before you knew it. And now you had this little family. You couldn’t help but fall for him. 

Genre: Parent!Au, Dad!Bang Chan, Fluff, Nonidol!Au, smut in a later chapter

Word Count: 1k

You were coming off of a twenty-four-hour shift at the hospital, and nothing made you happier than finally being able to sleep in your bed. You stopped by your favorite restaurant before heading home, making sure to grab a large bowl of kimchi soup, fried chicken, and a case of beer. After back to back surgeries, and deal with co-running the ER with your irritating co-worker you needed a nice break.

Balancing all of the food in your hands, you climbed the stairs and walked by your neighbor’s doors. “I got dinner~” you chimed, kicking it lightly, before opening your own door, next do it. You set the food down on the table, and your backpack by the door. Before you could even stretch your bones you felt a rush at your legs as your neighbor’s adorable daughter ran in behind you, hugging you tight.

“You’re home!!” she cheered, with the brightest smile. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too Dollface” you kneeled down, pulling her in a warm hug. “You give the best hugs” you cooed.

“I’m so glad you’re home, I was afraid I was gonna have to eat what Daddy cooked” she groaned, exaggeratedly sticking her tongue out.

Chan scoffed, leaning on your doorway. “Hey! I’ll have you know my dinner would have been delicious”

“Sure Daddy” she teased before whispering at you “It was burnt”

You snorted, trying your best to hide your laughter. Seeing the offense on Chan’s face you covered your mouth. “I-I’m sorry” you giggled “But I smelled it when I walked past your door.” 

“Well if you two are quite done roasting me, I’d like to have dinner” Chan clapped his hands.

You smoothed down Minseo’s curly hair. “I’m gonna change out of my scrubs, I’ll be right back” You walked into your bedroom, washing your face and staring into your mirror trying to collect yourself from just how handsome Chan looked. It really wasn’t fair for him to look that attractive at this time of night. He honestly had to do the bare minimum to get you going. His messy hair, sweatpants low on his lips, that stupidly attractive dimpled smile. You groaned splashing your face again.

Two years ago when Chan moved into the vacant apartment next door with his three-year-old daughter you thought it was a silver lining in your love life. He was breathtakingly handsome, with the cutest dimples, and the shyest smile. He was single and just trying to navigate parenthood with his daughter. Chan worked hard to give her the world, but he was in way over his head. And there was something about watching him and his friends try to raise her that made you help out.

One favor turned into another, and before you knew it, a companionship was formed. You grew to love Minseo like she was your own. And there was something about pursuing Chan romantically that just felt wrong. You two were friends, and if it didn’t work out romantically then it could make the friendship awkward. It would make it weird for Minseo. She had become accustomed to your routine, and kids were sensitive to a routine so why ruin it? At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The attraction just remained unspoken.

There was always something there, but neither of you were willing to take the jump and risk it. And you would rather be something in Chan’s life, then risk losing it and being no one in his life.

So for now, this was enough.

You walked out of your bedroom, smiling at your makeshift family. It wasn’t yours to keep, but for now, you could at least enjoy borrowing it.

Minseo beamed up at you, a chicken leg in one hand and kimchi sauce on her cheek. “Our pajamas match!” she gestured toward the red plaid matching top and bottoms that she wore.

Seeing that beautiful smile you knew that you never wanted to do anything that risked losing it. You giggled smooshing her cheeks playfully. “We do match~”

“Daddy got you those for Christmas!” she chimed.

“He did!” you laughed. “Too bad he never wears his~” You sat down next to her, cleaning her face with a napkin and looking at Chan “How was work?”

“Long” he chuckled leaning on his hand, watching you two. A smile never leaving his face. He always loved seeing how bright his daughter got when she was with you, and how that brightness was always mirrored. It was so genuine and warm. “My new client really likes the album so far, we should be able to wrap it up soon”

“Are you remembering to sleep?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out that shy giggle. “Ah, you know me I get restless when I have things to do”

You frowned. “You need sleep” you scolded him before winking “Don’t make me confiscate your to-do list, and tuck you in myself.” His ears began to warm as he looked away shyly. His daughter chiming about how he’s in trouble. “I’m serious Chris, Doctor’s orders”

“I’ll be more mindful, I promise” he smiled bashfully.

After dinner the three of you settle down with a kids movie on Netflix, Chan falling asleep within the first twenty minutes, and Minseo getting so close to seeing the end but she just couldn’t ride out the last ten minutes. You smiled to yourself, gently running your hands through her hair. “What am I gonna do with you two?” Chan’s head resting against your shoulder as he took in gentle breaths, Minseo bundled between the two of you, her little arms wrapped around your arm and the plush blanket.

The credits for the movie ran all the way though and you’d been staring at the Netflix main menu for almost twenty minutes. You tried to bring yourself to attempt to get up. But it was just so warm. Both of them were tangled against you and and the blanket. You looked down at him Chan’s face smooshed against your shoulder, you being close enough to see the tiniest dusting of freckles against his nose or how his cheek dimpled as he moved his mouth. Minseo’s tiny face mirroring his features with those same little freckles, dimple, and pouty lips.

But you couldn’t keep them here forever.

“Hey...wake up sleepy head” you cooed at Chan, your fingers gently grazing his scalp.

He sighed happily “Mmm that feels so good please don’t stop” He watched you sleepily, a lazy smile on his lips. “Did I fall asleep?”

Did he really have to look at you like that? His expression was so open, candid, it disarmed you, and captivated you. There was just something about that little smile, that mischievous twinkle in his eye. Did he really not realize how it made your stomach do this little flip? “You were out like a light” you giggled, continuing to scratch his scalp; Loving how his smile grew.

“In my defense I feel like you put on the most boring movie”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. All I’m seeing is that you took a two hour nap” you grinned watching him stand up. You gently moved Minseo from your arms into his. He propped her up against his hip as she buried her tired face in his chest.

“Hmmm why do I have a feeling you did that on purpose?” he smirked

“Now, Chris. I’m not a magician” you quirked your brow. “But I am armed with hundreds of movies on Netflix Kids and I will use them on you if I have to” you winked at him.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time” he chuckled, walking toward the door.

It wasn’t that Chan hated sleeping, he was just restless. Growing up he was always struck with inspiration in the middle of the night, and as a young parent, he couldn’t exactly rest knowing his daughter may wake up in the middle of the night and need him. There just wasn’t times that he felt comfortable to sleep. He survived on napping well enough but you were one of the few people that completely disarmed him. That he could relax enough long enough to sleep.

You walked him the eight feet it took to get to his door, whispering a good night to Minseo before kissing her hair. You pouted cupping her little cheeks, one last time. “She’s so cute” you smiled smoothing down her dark hair. “And you” you peaked up at Chan with a pout “Please get some more sleep tonight, preferably another six hours” you looked at him, with pleading eyes.

“I’ll give it a shot” he opened his door, ready to walk in but stopped to look at you again. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Just some chores in the morning but then I’m free, what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to come to the park with us” he smiled. “Minseo said she missed you”

“Only Minseo?” you raised a brow.

“And... Me too...” he gave you a bashful look, doing that nervous little giggle of his.

“I’d love to go” you grinned. “Goodnight Chris, see you tomorrow”

“Goodnight” he closed the door between you and sighed against the door. 

Yeah, he had a crush on you. And he wasn’t going to deny it. Waking up to your beautiful face watching him, his daughter in both your arms. It was like a dream come true. But the fact that he thought you were way out of his league and you two had a delicate friendship. He just didn’t have the courage to chance ruining your relationship.

This was good enough… Wasn’t it?

To be continued...

Chapter II

Hey Friends! ヾ(＾∇＾)

I couldn’t help myself D: I have such a kink for parent AU’s and boy I’d be lying if I said Dad!Chan didn’t get me going. I'm also planning on making this a 5 part story I’m aiming to upload daily.

And ever since Chan pointed out his freckles on the v-live I can’t stop mentioning it

If you guys like it please let me know! :3 your words always encourage me also if you’d liked to be tagged in future parts let me know <3

[pollylynn]

Title: . . . Makes the Heart WC:  1100

“What— My damage?”  — Richard Castle, I, Witness (7 x 13)

She wishes he had told the woman on the other end of the phone no. It’s the farthest thing from fair, and she’s glad that’s the voice that wins the race to the tip of her tongue when he, rightly pleased with himself, announces that he’s the one getting the call for once. She is legitimately glad that she sells the fantastic, she sells the It’s not like I don’t leave . . . well enough that he’s able to recapture the ebullient feeling. She is definitely, honestly, and lots of other -ly words glad. But she still kind of wishes he’d told that woman no. 

Because now she’s at the precinct. Now she’s feeling his absence here like a hundred tiny pinpricks an hour. She feels the boredom of not very important paperwork without him to gripe at every time he distracts her from her very important paperwork. She feels defensive every time someone asks after him, asks how the PI business is going, and even though most of the inquiries are good natured enough—sincere enough—she feels defensive and oversells. 

Today, she is particularly feeling his absence, because Ryan and Jenny have taken the ill-advised step of trying to fix Esposito—Esposito—up, and she has all kinds of thoughts about that. These range from How dare you? on Lanie’s behalf to Oh, thank God! also on Lanie’s behalf, and kind of on her own, because Esposito is  less a brooding, Byronic hero than he is whiny. But she also has questions for Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, like who the hell would have signed up for a convenient-for-all-your-murder-and-body-disposal-needs ski weekend with Esposito and Lanie? 

In short, she has a lot of things she needs him pretty urgently for today. But he’s not even available for whispered phone conversations or text sniping. Instead, he’s off having potential clients and whatever, and whether it’s fair or not, she wishes he’d said no to the woman on the other end of the phone. 

She wishes he had told Eva Whitfield, as the name of the woman on the other end of the phone turns out to be, no. Her fairer, more reasonable inclinations don’t quite win the race to the tip of her tongue this time. Wait, tonight? she blurts as though she has not reached for the phone, half naked, mid-make out plenty of times. But she was looking forward to to making it way past half naked and her ambitions go far beyond making out. 

But he wonders aloud what he was supposed to tell his friend, who wants to see, in living color, that her marriage is well and truly over, and her fairer, more reasonable inclinations show up, panting, but ready to respond when he asks her, more than a little miserably, to remind him never to take this kind of case again. She reminds him that saying yes to things he’s not necessarily excited about is part of the plan for making a go of the PI thing. And still feeling a twinge of guilt over the fact that she’s faking it till she makes it today, she goes the extra mile and offers to cook him dinner. 

Guilt-motivated or not, the offer to cook ends up lifting her spirits, at least in the short term. She has the loft to herself and the role-reversal is pleasant. She enjoys the solitude for the way it builds the pleasant anticipation of seeing him. She enjoys the work of her hands and the excellent-smelling fruits of her labor. She has everything on the food front well underway and she eyes the rest of the loft like a battlefield waiting for her to wage war. She thinks about the pleasant tables he has set for her and the way he can, without fail, anticipate whether it’s a wine and jazz and candlelight night for her, or one of those days when she wants junk food and beer on the couch. 

She eyes up the theater on which her victory will play out. She tries to put herself in his shoes—to think about the cues he must be picking up on in her voice, in details like an actual phone call versus a terse series of texts. She’s good-naturedly cursing his name, because she can’t figure out at all how he always knows, when the phone rings. She does a little soft shoe of triumph. She’s sure the stars have aligned and she’ll know from this well-timed call exactly what it is that he listens for. 

But his voice breaks up. What she hears of it is heart-stoppingly frantic. The call drops, The screen of her phone goes horribly blank. Fear climbs the back of her throat and the only thought in her head is that she wishes he’d said no to Eva Whitfield. 

The phone rings again, a million years later. It has to have been a million years, and she’s been standing there. She has just been standing there, doing nothing. But she hears his voice, faint and no less frantic. He doesn’t sound right. On any number of levels, he doesn’t sound right, and she makes him stay on the phone while she juggles the landline and calls the Westchester PD. She makes him stay on the phone while she races to her car and tries to will Manhattan traffic out of existence. 

She finally hangs up—grudgingly hangs up—when and only when she knows local law enforcement is on the scene. She lets her foot grow heavy on the gas pedal and beats the steering wheel and fumes about head injuries and yet more memory loss. She beats the steering wheel and fumes about the very real possibility that he could have died in those damned woods—he could have disappeared for good this time and left her never knowing.

Her tires screech as she brakes to a hard stop near the Westchester cruisers are pulled up at disorganized angles. She sees him startle as her headlights sweep across the scene. She sees in that instant, the fear and bewilderment, the trauma and grief and guilt written all across his face. She beats the steering wheel one last time. She composes herself as best she can. She climbs out of the car and she races to him. She folds herself into his arms and whispers, Castle, I'm so glad you’re okay. 

She bites her tongue. She doesn’t tell him she wishes—devoutly wishes—he had told Eva Whitfield no. 

A/N: The timeline of Castle’s unconsciousness  . . . it’s a wonky thing. Much like this would be. Were it A Thing. Which it is not. 

images via homeofthenutty

[angst-fairygodmother]

Omg I've been binge reading all your Klaus fics and can I just say you are an AMAZING writer and I'd straight up buy your novel in a heartbeat if you write one. The way you use words and make me feel things, I can't even! ❤️ I saw your requests are open so I wanna request a Klaus fic where the reader takes care of him after he comes home all messed up.. like runs him a bath, gives him a haircut, cooks him food and puts him to bed...You can make it NSFW too in the end, I surely won't complain ;)

A/N: Listen, I think like 25-50% of why I love Klaus is the mere concept of caring for him when he needs it, so this was an excellent prompt. Thank you so much! (I hope you enjoy it even though it didn’t end up getting NSFW) Word Count: 2197 Content Warning: T - withdrawal, references to drug use

You weren’t really paying attention to the familiar hallway of your apartment building, too busy juggling groceries in the struggle to find the right key. You had lived in this building for three and a half years now, it wasn’t like you needed to look where you were going, instinct guiding up the stairs and along to your own front door. Which is why when a figure lurched out of the shadows, stumbling toward you, you were completely unprepared. You screamed, dropping both your keyring and the bags of groceries on your arms as you threw your hands up in defense. The back of your mind registered the sound of something cracking, probably your eggs as they hit the tile floor. The rest of you was focused on the hundred and twenty or so pounds of human body crashing into you. You felt the fuzz of ragged fur and well-worn leather beneath your fingers as you tried to steady the both of you.

Finally you registered the sweaty, washed-out face.

“Klaus?” you asked, recognizing your neighbor.

He had only moved into your building a few months ago, but you two had quickly become friends, chatting – okay maybe you, at least, were flirting but it’s not like it was going to go anywhere, not really – in the mailroom or when you passed each other coming and going. A few times, you had invited him over for dinner or he had talked you into spending more hours than any human reasonably should watching movies, stretched out together on his couch. But you had never seen him like this.

“Oh hey, Y/N,” he trilled, trying to act normally even as he swayed again and you reached out to brace him. “Don’t mean to be a bother, but I’m…not doing so hot and I didn’t know where else to go.”

You frowned in concern and ushered him inside, only belatedly remembering your groceries and going back for them after you had guided him to a seat in your living room.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you began to put things away and waited for him to settle. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you just got dragged through hell and then spat back out the other side.”

He chuckled, more of a defeated escape of air than an actual laugh. “I feel like it too.”

You frowned at the eggs, completely ruined. The carton of orange juice was dented and wouldn’t sit right on the shelf but it was whole. Tomatoes: bruised, blueberries: free range in the grocery bag. Klaus didn’t seem inclined to say anything more, not that he had really said anything yet, anything of substance.

“You said you didn’t know where else to go?” you prompted, trying a different angle.

“I haven’t had anything in days,” he explained vaguely before doubling over to press his head between his knees. “Christ I feel like shit,” he groaned.

Something about the way he said it registered in your mind enough for you to figure out what was going on.

“Withdrawal?” you asked simply, moving to sit on the couch, turning your body into the arm of it so you could face him.

He nodded, looking up at you with red-rimmed eyes.

“So why come to me? I don’t…I mean I can’t help you get a fix.”

“I know. I didn’t think you could. I just didn’t want to be alone.”

“Okay. Do you need anything? Is there any way I can help?”

He shrugged, shivering despite the sheen of sweat on his brow. His tongue darted out to lick his chapped lips and you tried to resist the urge to trace its path with your eyes. He looked like he just might curl up in your chair and go to sleep, and if that was what he really wanted, you would let him. However, he was sick, and he had come to you, and if he couldn’t tell you what he needed, you would just have to try everything until something helped.

A moment later, you had put the kettle on for some tea and were handing him a drink of cool water.

“Here, drink this,” you said, pressing the thick green glass into his hand. “I’ll make you some tea, mint to help with any nausea, but that’s going to take a bit to be ready. Are you hungry? I was planning a bolognese but I can do something lighter instead. Maybe some soup?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that, Y/N…”

“When is the last time you ate?”

He frowned, blinking heavily and turning his head to stare into the space beside him as if your end table held the answer to your question. “I can’t remember.” He paused. “No, we had waffles…was it really that long ago?”

“Right,” you said, a little concerned that he almost seemed to be having a conversation with someone who wasn’t there. “That settles it, I’m making dinner.”

Decision made, you stood once more and began bustling about your kitchen. He grimaced as you chopped the vegetables and herbs for the stock and you winced, apologizing quickly and trying your best to chop quietly.

“So why are you…I mean why haven’t you…used…in a few days? I’m not an expert but isn’t cold turkey super not the recommended method to break an addiction?”

“Hm?” he asked, startling as if you had woken him from dozing. “What was that?” He turned around in the chair to blink at you over the counter.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had fallen asleep, you can go back to it if you want…”

“No, no, it’s fine. But I didn’t hear your question.”

“Oh, well I was just wondering why the cold turkey? Especially since it doesn’t exactly seem planned?”

“Dealer got picked up,” he said, stifling another yawn. “Most of the others around are too scared of the cops to take a new client.”

You nodded, surprised at how casual he was being about the whole thing.

“It’ll blow over in a few more days, and everything will be fine. I hope.” His voice dropped on the last remark and you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear it, so you decided not to comment.

Instead, you watched with a frown as he stifled another yawn.

“You know, the soup’s going to take a while, if you want to try and get some sleep while you wait?” you offered.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. Sleep is when they find me easiest. God so many grabbing hands. And the screaming. Always screaming.” He shivered, not from cold or the lack of chemicals or for the drama, but in obvious, genuine fright.

“Oh.” You frowned and bit your lip. “Is there anything I can…do?” you felt yourself flush with embarrassment as soon as the words left your lips, certain that they would sound far less innocent and well-meaning that you had intended them.

“Well,” he drawled, trailing off in thought. “Sometimes they’ll stay at bay for a bit if I’m not alone?”

“Okay. Well, there’s not really a lot of room for both of us on the couch, so we could take a nap in my…bed…but, and don’t take this the wrong way, you’re kind of gross…so would you mind maybe showering first?”

He laughed, high and light and it made you smile, sounding a bit more like his usual self. “No offense taken. Ooh, do you have a tub? I would love a bath…”

You raised your eyebrow curiously but nodded.

His hands clapped together giddily.

You padded to your room to dig out a spare towel and were about to give it to him when another thought occurred: he had nothing to put on after except the clothes he was currently sweating through and hadn’t been cleaned in who knew how long. Rooting through your drawers you eventually found a pair of fluffy pink and blue striped pajama pants and an old t-shirt from the Led Zeppelin concert you had gone to in high school which looked like they might fit him.

“Y/N, you are an absolute angel,” he said dramatically as you handed him the stack.

“Can you handle it on your own or…?” you trailed off, feeling awkward about your unspoken offer to help him bathe, but only a few moments before he had been practically falling asleep into his glass, and he had been unsteady on his feet in the hall.

“Oh I’ll be fine,” he said, waving a hand dismissively before he suddenly turned his puppy-dog green eyes on you. “Unless you wanted to. It really helps me relax to have someone wash my hair for me…”

You felt the hot blush creep across your face and down your neck again as you bit your lip.

“O…okay…” you stammered nervously.

“Perfect, now I’ll just go in there and slip under the suds and I’ll shout for you when I’m decent.”

“There’s nothing decent about you,” you muttered under your breath. “And I think you might be trying to give me a heart attack.”

He winked at you as he passed you and you knew he had heard you.

~

A few moments later, you had set the soup to simmer low on the stove and were kneeling on the uncomfortable tile of your bathroom floor behind Klaus. Your fingers were buried in his sopping hair, gently lathering the practically candy-scented shampoo into it. His eyes were closed, head tilted slightly back, exposing the column of his throat to you tantalizingly, and the sounds he made, practically purring at your touch, had you thinking all sorts of untoward thoughts. You had to keep reminding yourself that you were just trying to help him and that it probably meant nothing to him in his muddled state.

Finally, after maybe a little longer playing with scrubbing his hair than necessary, you scooped up some of the water to rinse away the soap. As you did, your fingertips brushed along his exposed neck and shoulders and he moaned.

“Do that again. Please,” he begged.

Heart hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it behind him, you did as he asked, dancing your fingertips along the planes and angles of his skin before digging them in just a little, gently, massaging him.

“Christ, Y/N, that feels so good,” he sighed.

‘The water’s getting cold,” you pointed out, a little breathless from the way he said your name. “And you’re going to turn into a prune if you spend any more time in there. You should probably get out.”

He turned his head, craning to look at you. “Would you like to stay and watch?”

Caught off-guard, you stared at him, gaping like a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing. Then you stood, racing from the room, his lilting laughter following you. You practically threw yourself onto your mattress, hoping that the few minutes it would take for him to get out of the tub and dress would be enough for you to calm your frantic pulse before you actually exploded.

You also realized that you were in a now-damp pair of jeans and a button-down and that wouldn’t be very comfortable if you fell asleep in it, so you quickly changed into a baggy shirt and shorts, settling them on your hips just as the door creaked in and Klaus entered, bare-chested but fitting into your pants better than you ever had.

“Why are you doing all this for me, Y/N?” he asked, sitting beside you, still tousling his curls with the towel.

“Because you’re my friend and you asked me for help,” you said as if it were obvious.

“You could have turned me away and told me not to bother you with. Other people have.”

“No I couldn’t have,” you smiled softly. “I care about you too much to do that.”

Suddenly his lips were on yours, surging forward hot and hungry and desperate. You moaned as his tongue parted your lips somewhat forcefully and he pressed you backward onto the bed. You fingers tangled into his hair, tugging on it and causing him to inhale sharply. One of his hands, still chilled and shaking slightly, found its way beneath your waistband, sliding easily past the slightly worn elastic. You hissed as he moved your underwear out of the way and made contact with your skin.

“Klaus…wait…” you gasped out, pushing at his shoulders to move him away from you.

He pulled back immediately, looking at you with a mix of concern and fear.

“What is it? Did I…?” he murmured, apology already dancing on his tongue.

You reached up to cup his face between your hands, caressing softly and trying to brush the worried wrinkles from his brow.

“No, Klaus, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you whispered. “I just…I think we should take it slow tonight, okay?”

He nodded carefully, clearly unused to this kind of tenderness, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek before pulling him down beside you, curling around him and running your fingers soothingly through his shaggy hair. He sighed contentedly, snuggling closer and burying his face in your neck.

[openheart12]

Trial of Fire

Summary: After Tony’s trial, him and Michelle are given a couple hours to be alone. 

Word Count: 4,611

Today was the day that would determine their future, she hadn’t been able to sleep at all though of course she had barely gotten any sleep since his arrest. She didn’t even flinch when her alarm went off at six, she reluctantly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the long day ahead. The trial started at nine o’clock sharp. 

After getting out of the shower, she took care of her hair so it wouldn’t be as crazy as it usually is, letting a few strands fall to frame her face. For her makeup, she went for an all natural look and waterproof mascara. She chose a black pencil skirt and a scarlet red blouse, red represented courage and if she ever needed courage, it was definitely today. 

She was ready by a quarter till eight and went downstairs to find something to eat, not that she was hungry but because she hadn’t been able to eat either since his arrest. Not that she was even able to cook something without the risk of burning it. She was a shell of the woman she used to be and it had been less than a month since he’s been gone. 

She visited him every weekend on Saturday’s at eight o’clock. She never missed one visit, it was the only time she was able to see him and it was through a glass, but it was something. Tony also took notice of the bags under her eyes and although she had always been petite, he could tell she was losing weight. 

She finally decided on half a banana and a piece of toast before going to let their dog, Major, out to use the bathroom. The German Shepherd was a Christmas gift to Michelle for their one year wedding anniversary. At the time, Tony was working more than normal and he wanted Michelle to have someone with her while he was gone and so he went to the animal shelter, finding a puppy that he knew would be perfect for her. 

After eating and giving the dog food and water, she was on her way out the door. She pulled into the parking lot ten minutes before the trial and taking deep breaths, she willed herself to go inside. Tony needed her and she could do this for him especially after he risked everything to save her, something she blamed herself for, but she couldn’t dwell on that right now. 

She was surprised to find Jack, Kim, Chase, Adam, and even Chloe waiting inside. Jack was the first to approach her, giving her a gentle hug. 

“You ready?”

No. “Yeah,” she gave him a small smile as they all walked through the doors to take a seat on the wooden benches. The judge walked in a few minutes after them followed by the prosecution and then Tony and his lawyer. He was dressed in clothes she had never seen before, but he was still her Tony. 

The bailiff started to speak, “please rise. The Court of the Second Judicial Circuit, Criminal Division, is now in session, the honorable Judge Taylor presiding.”

They met eyes and time slowed down just for a second, it was just the two of them before the judge banged his gavel. The bailiff swore in the jury before the start of the trial. 

“Members of the jury, your duty today will be to determine whether the defendant is guilty or not guilty based only on facts and evidence provided in this case. The prosecution has the burden of proving the guilt of the defendant beyond a reasonable doubt. This burden remains on the prosecution through the trial. The prosecution must prove that a crime was committed and that the defendant is the person who committed the crime. However, if you are not satisfied of the defendant’s guilt to that extent, then reasonable doubt exists and the defendant must be found not guilty.” Judge Taylor explained. “Mr. Anderson, what is today’s case?” He asked the bailiff. 

“Your Honor, today’s case is The State of California versus Anthony Almeida,”he replied. 

“How does the defendant plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor.” 

“Is the prosecution ready?”

“Yes, your Honor,” the prosecutor stood up before taking his seat once more. 

“Is the defense ready?”

“Yes, your Honor,” Tony’s lawyer replied. 

After opening statements were made, it was time to call witnesses for each side. 

“The prosecution would like to call Brad Hammond to the stand.”  

Michelle turned around to see Brad strolling through the doors, a smirk plastered across his face. 

The bailiff swore him in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

Brad replied with, “I do.” 

“You have evidence that the defendant, Anthony Almeida, committed treason against the United States of America to save his wife, correct?”

“Yes. We found out after Jane Saunders had been taken out of CTU and later found to be with Agent Almeida. We also had Stephen Saunders surrounded until Tony called the field teams to tell them to move positions to give Saunders a chance to escape. We took him into custody after Jack Bauer headed up teams to capture Saunders.” 

“And he put millions of lives at risk in order to save one by doing so.”

“Correct, Division had always been weary of inter office relationships, but when Tony and Michelle came to us saying they had been in a relationship and said they would be able to keep their personal and professional lives separate, we believed them, I believed them and that was my mistake.” 

“That’s all I have for this witness.”

Tony’s lawyer was next. “Are you married Mr. Hammond?” 

“Objection!” The prosecution called out. 

“It goes to show my clients thoughts.”

“Overruled, but tread carefully Mr. Wilson.” 

“Yes, I’m married.” Hammond replied. 

“And you love your wife?”

“Of course I love my wife.”

“Would it be safe to say that you would do anything you could to keep her safe?”

“I- yeah, I suppose.” 

“That’s exactly what Mr. Almeida did that day. He did what any person would do for the person they loved. He acted as any husband would act in a situation like that and he shouldn’t be blamed or be put in jail for being human.”

“But he put millions of people at risk by doing that!” 

“No one died. No one was hurt in the process and that’s what matters. Not what could’ve happened.” 

“But-” he tried to say something, anything else to help the prosecution. 

“No further questions.” 

“The defense calls Jack Bauer to the stand.” Jack squeezed Michelle’s shoulder before going up to take a seat. 

The bailiff swore him in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do,” Jack said. 

“You and Mr. Almeida have worked together for some time, would you consider him a friend?”

“Yeah, we both went through a lot and he was there after my wife died. Our jobs are extremely stressful and dangerous and it’s nice to have friends who can understand that.” 

“I’m sorry about your wife, but speaking of her, didn’t you too have to put your wife above other people?”

“Yes.”

“And you think what Mr. Almeida did is justified?” 

“I do. No one got hurt by his actions, he was trying to protect his wife and I would’ve done the same thing if I was in his shoes. 

“Thank you, no further questions.”

The prosecutor stood up, taking a minute to think of his next questions. “You agree with everything Agent Almeida did? What if innocent lives had been lost?” 

“I can’t answer that seeing as it didn’t happen.” 

“What if it had?”

“It’s a hypothetical question to which I have no answer for,” Jack said, holding his ground. 

“No further questions.” 

Each party called more witnesses: analysts, techs, anyone they could think of to improve their case. The judge called a recess around lunch time and Michelle reluctantly followed the others out to go eat somewhere even though she wasn’t hungry. She locked eyes with Tony until the guards pulled him away. 

“It’s going pretty good, right?” Kim asked and everyone agreed, but Michelle couldn’t shake this gut feeling she had. It felt like even as good as they think things were going, it wouldn’t be good enough. 

She had ordered a salad and she was pushing it around with her fork while the others were eating and Jack noticed. When they finished eating and started to head back to the courthouse, Jack pulled her aside for a minute. 

“Are you okay?” He asked after hesitating. 

“I just… I have a bad feeling about today. If he goes to prison… it’ll be all my fault and I don’t know if I could live knowing I put my husband in there. Out of everyone, Tony doesn’t deserve this. He’s spent his life putting away terrorists and protecting his country and this is how they repay him? It’s not fair.” 

“I know, trust me I know, but Tony needs you to be strong for him right now and that means we can’t be thinking about what will happen if he’s convicted, we have to hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“I know, I feel so helpless though, Jack. I want to help him but how?”

“You can testify on his behalf, tell them what an amazing husband he is and how much he loves his job. Are you ready to beat this thing?” 

That sinking feeling came back, but she pushed it away and plastered a smile on, “yeah, I’m ready.” 

Back in the courtroom, it was her turn to take the stand. When the prosecution called her name, she stood up on wobbly knees and tried to get her nerves under control to no avail. 

The bailiff swore her in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do,” the two words tasting bitter on her tongue at the moment. Two words that once meant a promise to each other were now being used against them. 

“Miss Dessler-“

“It’s Mrs. Almeida, I keep Dessler at work to avoid confusion between me and Tony.”

“Mrs. Almeida,” he started again, “how long have you and Mr. Almeida been married?”

“Three years, but we’ve been together just a little over four years.”

“And during that time have you and Mr. Almeida ever been put into a situation where one of you is in danger?” 

“Yeah.”

“But both of you were always fine, minor injuries if anything so why was the day in question any different? You’re sitting here in front of the court today with no physical injuries shown. I’m trying to understand why your husband had to put millions of lives at stake, people in this very room could’ve died because of his actions, but you were his priority. He ignored the oath he took to protect this country and its people to save you. Do you see the problem?” He asked as if she was a child. 

“Tony did what he thought was right at the time, he did what anyone would do for the person they love. It was an unprecedented situation. Take his job, make sure he never works for the government again, but don’t take his life away. He’s done so much for this country, he was a marine, he fights to protect this country every day from terrorists and the one time he does something wrong, he’s threatened with prison. I’ll say it again, no one was hurt by his actions, not one person was even put in danger.” 

“You say this was an unprecedented situation, but aren't unprecedented situations a part of your jobs? Can you pinpoint when the next terrorist attack is going to be? Are you going to immediately know how to deal with the next attack? Let’s take the Cordilla virus as an example, that was unprecedented and you led the team inside that hotel. You set up command and took charge, you reassured the guests, you got them suicide pills to end their suffering, you shot a man who was trying to leave the premises. All of that was unprecedented and yet, you were able to deal with it.”

“I wasn’t threatened with the idea of my husband having his eye cut out. I can’t speak to what Tony was feeling or what was going through his head, but I know how scared he must’ve been, how scared anyone would’ve been in that situation.” 

“You can be scared without putting lives at risk, agent. People doubted your ability to work with your husband and keep your professional and personal lives separate and maybe if you had listened to them, you or Tony wouldn’t be here right now. So who’s fault is it really?” He mumbled the last sentence for only her to hear. 

“Objection, badgering the witness.” The defense called out. 

“Withdrawn. No further questions.” He said before the judge could say anything. “Your witness.”

“Mrs. Almeida, it’s obvious you love your husband smd that he loves you. How do you feel about his actions?”

No one had asked her that and she was thrown off guard for a split second. “He saved my life,” she met his eyes as she spoke. “I’m eternally grateful for him and if I ever had any doubts about how much he loved me, I would look back at what he did.” 

“No further questions.” He gave her a small smile to put her at ease, but her eyes were still locked on Tony’s. 

“The next person we call to the stand is Anthony Almeida. 

The bailiff swore him in before the examination started. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.” He responded firmly. 

“It’s been made clear how much you love your wife, it’s admirable really. You hear how people say they will do anything for the person they love, but a lot of the time they can’t prove it but you’re one of the few who did. Would you do it again?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “She’s my whole world and as long as she’s safe, I don’t care what happens to me. I’m glad no one got hurt by what I did but it doesn’t change the fact I’d do it all over again if I had to.” 

A few more questions later after the defense was satisfied with his answers, it was the prosecution's turn. 

“You love your wife, correct?”

“Yes.”

“At any point while she was inside the Chandler Plaza Hotel did you ever tell her you loved her?”

“No, it was implied through every conversation we had. Michelle knows I love her, if I say it or not but at work we keep it professional.” 

“Professional? You call kidnapping Jane Saunders in order to trade her for your wife professional behavior? You didn’t tell your wife you loved her after claiming that you do and on top of all that, you said you would do it all again.” 

“Stop right there. You can question my loyalty, you can put me in prison for the rest of my life, you can do whatever the hell you want, but don’t ever question my love for my wife. She has been through hell and back and she’s saved me in more ways than one. She is the only thing I look forward to after a twenty four hour shift when we’re both on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion but she’ll smile at me and everything is okay again. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. I would do anything to keep her safe even if it meant putting myself in danger. She is my life and you can take me away from her, but it won’t change a damn thing.”

“No further questions, the prosecution rests, your Honor.” 

“The defense also rests, your Honor.”

“Members of the jury, you have heard all of the testimony concerning this case. It is now up to you to determine the facts. You and you alone, are the judges of the fact. Once you decide what facts the evidence proves, you must then apply the law as I give it to you to the facts as you find them,” the judge said, his attention directed to the jurors. 

Tony went back to his seat, anger evident in his body language. After closing statements, it was time for the jury to deliberate. His fate was now in the hands of complete strangers. 

A long two hours later, they came back with a verdict. 

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked. 

“We have, your Honor,” the jury foreperson responded. 

“What say you?” 

“We the jury, in the case of The State of California versus Anthony Almeida find the defendant guilty of the charge of treason against the United States of America.”

She swore she felt her heart stop once the words left her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes which she refused to let fall in front of everyone. 

“Thank you, jury, for your service today. Court is adjourned.” 

“No, no you can’t do this,” she shouted before realizing what she was doing. Jack gently grabbed her and guided her out into the hall where she let her tears fall freely.  

“They can’t… they can’t do this Jack, not after everything he’s done. I can't… I can’t breathe,” her chest was rising up and down rapidly, her breathing heavy. The signs of a beginning panic attack. 

“Breath with me, Michelle,” he took deep breaths and she followed his lead until her breathing went back to normal. 

“I need to see him,” she started to head back through the doors before he stopped her. 

“They’re not going to let you see him right now, they have to book him and in a couple hours they’ll let you but until then, we have to wait,” he explained calmly. 

“This is bullshit and you know it. They’re not even going to let us be alone and twenty years, Jack, twenty fucking years. That’s how long they’re taking him away for. It’s not right, it’s not fair.” 

“I know Michelle, but Tony needs you right now and you need him. You can still visit and trust me, I know it’s not the same but it’s something and that’s what you have to remember.” 

“What do we do now?”

“We wait, I’ll try talking to some guards I know to see if the two of you can have some privacy, but I’m not promising anything.”

“Okay, thank you Jack.”

He shot her a smile, “it’s the least I can do, until then, just try to relax.”

Jack drove them to Federal Correctional Institute where his sentence was to be held out. The building looming in the distance reminded her of everything they were going to lose in a few short minutes. 

“I’m gonna go talk to my friend inside and I’ll come get you when I’m done.” 

She nodded her head while looking blankly ahead. This didn’t feel real, she wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare she was currently in. She didn’t know how much time had passed when she saw Jack heading back towards the SUV. 

“You have three hours, it’s all I could get and I convinced them to give you privacy and I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.” 

“Does he know?”

“No, I think he’d like to hear it from you more.”

“Thank you Jack.” 

He smiled in response. They headed inside the building and passed through security. Jack led her down a hall lined with cells on either side until arriving in front of a holding cell that provided privacy. 

“He’s in there?” She asked nervously. 

“Yeah.” 

Jack opened the door to reveal Tony in an orange jumpsuit. “Jack, how’s Miche- Michelle?” Shock was etched in his voice at seeing her in front of him. 

“Hi,” she smiled, the first real smile he’s seen. 

“Hey.” They stood there staring at each other until the initial shock wore off and in the next second, he was wrapping his arms around her. Tears flowed down over her cheeks, the feeling of his arms around her was comforting, something she would never take for granted again. 

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” 

“I needed to see you. I can’t believe this is all happening and it’s all my fault and I’m sorry, Tony, I’m so sorry.” 

“Oh, Michelle, I don’t blame you. Like I told you earlier, you’re alive and I can live with that. Promise me that you won’t blame yourself?” 

“I promise,” her voice slightly wavered. 

“How did you manage to get back here?”

“Jack, he talked to some friends he had inside and he got us three hours alone and I know it’s not a lot but-”

He cut her off. “It’s perfect.” 

He led her over to one of the chairs in the room and sat down, pulling her onto his lap. 

“I missed you,” he said, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her scent in as to memorize it. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Tony,” she cried softly. “This is all my fault, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me or if I had waited for the hazmat suits and all those people… those agents… Gael… are dead because of me. I shouldn’t have listened to Jack when he told me to go back. We were so close.” 

“You can’t think like that, Michelle. I meant what I said in court, I would choose you over and over because I love you and I am incredibly grateful that no one was hurt by my actions. You made all the right decisions today and I know you don’t think so, but you helped so many people today and the people who died today, Gael, they will be remembered as heros. You saved even more lives today by listening to Jack. I can live here knowing that you’re safe and alive. I almost lost you twice today and you’re still here which is more than I could ask for. And Michelle-”

“Don’t, please,” she begged, cutting him off because she knew him well enough to know what he was going to say next. 

“I just want you to be happy, even if you find that it’s not with me in five, ten years. You deserve nothing but the best and I won’t be able to offer you that and I just want you to have that option, if you ever need it and I want you to know that you don’t have to feel bad if that moment ever comes.” he finished. 

“Tony, please, I can’t… I can’t talk about that right now. We don’t have long and I don’t want to spend that time talking about-”

“I know, sweetheart. I have so much to say and I just- I thought I had forever to say it, but now,” he glanced at the clock, “I have two and a half hours.” 

They spent the next couple hours talking about anything and everything that came to mind: their wedding day, visits with each of their families, all the different things they loved about each other, the day they met, their first date, the night he proposed, the might he brought Major home, holidays they spent together, the day they moved into their house, memories that they only knew and treasured. 

But time was quickly running out. 

The guard had come to notify them that they only had thirty minutes left. 

They spent a few minutes sitting in silence, soaking in each other's warmth and closeness.

“I don’t know how to do this without you, I can’t go home knowing that you’re here and-”

“You’re going to go home and do the best you can, alright? I know it won’t be easy, but you have to try to eat and get some sleep. It’ll be hard for awhile, for both of us, but we’ll get through it. We survived a bomb, a nuclear bomb, World War Three, a virus, and we’re still here. A twenty year sentence doesn’t seem too bad after that,” he said jokingly and when it seemed impossible, she started to laugh. 

“We have survived far worse.”

Two guards walked in after that and all hints of smiling and laughter were now gone. 

Time was up.

Tears started to form in her hazel eyes and his chest tightened. “We’re gonna get through this.”

“I know,” she replied. “This is hard.” she choked out, her voice breaking. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He helped her stand up before getting up himself and wrapped his arms around her, placing kisses on the top of her head. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much, Tony.”

He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, pouring out his emotions. After the kiss ended, he reluctantly let her go and a guard came up behind him.

He walked him out and with one last glance at her, he disappeared from her view. 

“I’m sorry,” the other guard offered apologetically and she knew it wasn’t just because their time was up. She just nodded at him in response, talking right now was too hard. He led her out to the parking lot where she met Jack in his SUV. 

He didn’t say anything, not like he had to, he could only imagine what she was feeling right now. They spent the twenty minute drive to their house in complete silence and when he pulled into their driveway, she thanked him quietly before getting out.

“Hey,” he called after her softly. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Jack,” she offered a small smile before heading inside and the first thing she noticed was the quietness. Her and Tony would always walk through the door smiling and laughing, even after a tough day. Even if one of them got home first, it was never quiet. Family and friends would come over on their days off or on the weekends. The house was always filled with love and happiness, but now… but now it was completely silent. 

The silence was going to be the hardest part of coming home. She walked up the stairs leading to their bedroom to find Major asleep in the middle of the bed.

She undressed and put on one of his shirts and a pair of his sweatpants that engulfed her small frame. The lingering smell of his cologne relaxed her a little bit and she climbed into the bed that was way too big for one person. Major woke up and moved his head to lick her face. He was a baby when it came to Michelle and every night, he was snuggled up behind her and tonight was no different. 

She didn’t know what the future held, but for now, she would try to get some sleep like she promised and would go back to the prison to visit him as soon as possible. The time they had together earlier was enough for now and she drifted off into the first real sleep she’s had in a month. 

There was still hope and until there wasn’t any left, she wasn’t going to give up on him. 

[kpopfanfictrash]

For Me, It’s You

Member: Jimin (BTS)

Prompt: Song!drabble, inspired by For Me, It’s You by Lo Moon

Rating: R

Genre: childhood friends to lovers!AU (THANK YOU @underthejoon​ for this amazing header, ur the best)

Warnings: angst, estranged parents, references to former underage drinking

WC: 4,015

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

You should not have come home this weekend.

Honestly, you knew better but allowed yourself to be swayed by the guilt of your siblings. There were the ones who insisted your parents wanted you here, who said things would not be the same without you and you fell for their lies – hook, line and sinker. Never mind that, when you texted your plane flight to your mom, it took her nearly a day to respond.

In complete denial, you chalked this up to timing. It was not. As soon as you arrived from the airport, you sensed the chill in the air. Your little brother – Dean’s list, summa cum laude, McKinsey consultant, Henry – was welcomed in with warm hugs and cookies. You barely received a terse smile and ‘welcome home.’

Even so, you deluded yourself into thinking things would be fine. You would lie low, make it through the weekend and return to the city unscathed. So long as you did not bring up your job, or the argument, everything would be okay. Sadly, you underestimated how disappointed your parents were. It took only two glasses of wine at Thanksgiving dinner for your mother to let you know exactly how she felt.

“When do you have to be back at work, Henry?” she asked, accepting the vat of potatoes.

“Monday,” Henry said, setting down his glass. “Working on a big client of ours right now – unfortunately, can’t take much time off.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” Your mother beamed as she replaced the spoon in the bowl. “It’s nice to see you hard at work. Unlike some people your age.”

Everyone around the table stiffened. It was not necessary for your mother to say your name in order to make her feelings known. The point was clear in the way she set the bowl down, looked your way and waited a beat.

Refusing to take the bait, you looked down. You had not been hungry before but, upon hearing her comment, lost all appetite entirely.

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” said Jia, your sister. Hastily, she shot a pleading glance at your dad. “It’s the holidays.”

“That doesn’t diminish the reality of the situation,” your father said sternly. Turning your way, his brow furrowed. “So, Y/N. Have you found yourself yet?”

Cheeks slowly heating, you pushed your plate back from the table. “I’m working on my drawings, yeah. If that’s what you’re asking.”

He made a dismissive noise in his throat. “All that money towards college – wasted.”

“Dad,” Jia said. “It wasn’t wasted.” She scowled, looking between your parents.

Jia chose to become a dentist; a perfectly respectable career path in their opinion. Still, she had always been protective over you and Henry. When you were younger, your parents often worked in the evenings, and it often fell upon your older sister to help.

“Let’s just eat, okay?” Henry glanced around the table. “It’s Thanksgiving. Let’s be glad we’re all here.”

The table was quiet for a few minutes, everyone digging into their respective plates. Then, your mom sighed and said, “I suppose I’m thankful two of my children followed our example to form steady careers. At least I can sleep knowing I won’t be in the poor house when I’m old.”

“Mom!” Jia blurted out, looking appalled.

Henry jumped to your defense, too. “That’s not fair, mom –”

“I’ll tell you what’s fair,” interrupted your father. His voice somehow drowned out the rest. “Wasting all your hard-earned money on a fancy college degree, only to throw it away. Living disrespectfully, coming back to our house and having the nerve to –”

“I bought my own plane ticket, dad,” you interjected. “My website is doing really well, and I’m working on illustrations for this book, and I –”

“Don’t interrupt!” he exclaimed. “This is exactly the lack of respect your mother and I are talking about.”

With a loud screech, you pushed your chair away to stand up. “I’m done eating,” you announced. Stiffly, you looked at your mom.  “Doesn’t sound like anything’s changed since the last time we spoke. Thank you for cooking. I’ll clean up after myself.”

With that, you turned around and strode into the kitchen. The arguing continued after you left, with Jia jumping in to combat your parents. Even Henry was angry, protesting he and Jia wanted you there, but you were no longer listening. It did not matter much, either way. You should have known better than to think today would go well.

The last time you spoke to your parents was in the spring, the day you told them you were quitting your job to pursue illustration full-time. They were not happy, simply put and after the initial, blow-out fight, you did not speak at all. Obviously, they still had a lot to say.

Retreating up the stairs to your childhood bedroom, you slammed shut the door and collapsed on your bed. Being in this room made you feel like a child and in many ways, you still were. It did not matter that you had been able to drink for four years and vote for seven. In many ways, you were only just beginning to progress on your own.

Downstairs, you still heard the debate raging on. It was always like this, when you were little. Even when you were not the one arguing, there was another fight to be had. You could not blame your parents for that, not really. It was the only way they understood discipline – loud voices and the overbearing idea of respect.

Eventually, things would calm down. You knew they would. Eventually, Jia would help your mom clean up and Henry would play piano in the next room. For a few hours, maybe, they would be like a family – except you would not be there.

Not this time.

Unable to replay the events any longer, you roll out of bed and unlatch your window. Prying it open, the cold air hits your face. Shivering, you stare into the night and reach out for your sweater. Your childhood home was built with a small, wrap-around porch over the front.

When you were a child, you often climbed out here to escape. When you were in your teens, you came out here to drink, or smoke, or journal about how your parents were ruining your life. It has been a long time since you remembered that part of yourself.

Glancing away, you see lights on in the Park house. They must be finishing Thanksgiving dinner as well, hopefully not in as dramatic fashion as yours. You cannot imagine it is, since the Parks adore their two sons – Jimin and Jiwoo. Besides, both of their children adopted traditionally successful career paths. Jiwoo is in medical school and Jimin recently passed the bar.

Exhaling, you glance again at the rooftop. The fighting can still be heard downstairs and so, pulling on your sweater, you climb out on the porch. Quickly shutting the window, you find yourself ensconced in blessed silence. No disappointed parents berating you. No siblings rising to your defense. Only silence, the wind and far-off sound of cars on the highway.

Settling onto the roof, you lean against the side of the house. The sky overhead is clear, a silver crescent of moon hanging above your head. As you breathe in and out, your breath frosts in mid-air. It is chilly enough you are glad for your sweater and still, your hands stiffen with cold. Pulling your sleeves down, you relish in the silence.

“Y/N?”

Head jerking sideways, your heart nearly stops when you see a face looking back. At the edge of the overhang, clinging onto the roof is a familiar – well, now unfamiliar – person.

Jimin.

“Is that seat taken?” he breathes, face red with the exertion of climbing. “Because it’s been a while since I’ve done this, and god knows how much your parents take care of this trellis.”

“Shit,” you blurt, realizing his predicament and scrambling onto your knees. Grabbing Jimin’s hands, you haul him onto the roof.

Jimin tumbles beside you, dusting dirt from his pea coat. You wince at the gesture, since the fabric looks expensive – probably is, given his new job. Collapsing against the siding, Jimin adjusts his grey beanie and looks sideways at you.

“Hey,” he greets, as though he climbs up on neighbors’ porches all the time.

Trying not to laugh, you smile back. “Hey.”

When you say nothing more, Jimin arches a brow. “Surprised to see me?”

“You could say that,” you say, glancing down at the cul-de-sac. From up here, the world seems more manageable. It always did. “It’s been a while since you came by.”

“Could say the same.”

Glancing at him, you see a small smile on his face. Jimin is quiet for a moment, staring out at the world and you cannot help but layer this Jimin with ones past. When you were younger, this was your place – he and you. Whenever your parents were too much, or you were mad at the world, you would climb out here to escape.

Jimin would see this and know it was his signal to come over.

It has been a long time since then, though. The wood of the house is cold on your back.

“So, why are you out here?” He asks this calmly, as though this were another Tuesday.

You shrug. “The usual.”

It has been seven years, give or take, since you two last talked. Really talked, that is – in the way that friends do. All throughout middle school and high school, Jimin was your best friend. Even Jia was wary of you. She did not understand the way you acted, the way you purposefully pushed your parents’ boundaries to understand all their lines.

Jimin was not like that. Jimin did not break rules, but Jimin understood. He saw you out here, night after night and grew curious. Eventually, he climbed up to meet you and what happened next cannot be explained. You became the unlikeliest of friends.

Subtly, you glance sideways.

Glasses are perched on the end of his nose. Jimin used to need glasses in high school but insisted upon contacts because of his dancing. When he quit dance for college, you heard a lot of things changed, but you never imagined his glasses to be one of them. The frames suit his face. You have always thought that.

Of course, you cannot say for certain this change took place during college. That was when you began drifting apart – it was not either of your fault, really. You two tried to keep in touch, you really did. There were phone calls, e-mails, but there was always something else demanding more urgent attention. Eventually, phone calls became texts, which turned into long bouts of silence where you forgot one another.

Maybe the silence was a bit purposeful on your part. Maybe you were running from feelings you deemed ultimately, fruitless.

“You haven’t been home for the holidays in a few years,” Jimin comments, still casual. His foot is stretched out before him, clothed in an Italian loafer which must be worth twenty of your commissions.

“Not really, no,” you say, surprised he noticed.

“Why not?”

“Ha.” Leaning your head to the house, you close your eyes. “I don’t know. It felt like a lie every time, you know? Coming home and seeing them. Pretending to be happy. It was easier just… not to come.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment. “You weren’t happy?”

“Wrong job.” You open one eye. “Wrong life, really. But it was one they approved of.”

“And now?”

Suddenly, you look at him. Jimin stares back, gaze soft in moonlight. It makes your heart skip a beat, a phenomenon you thought died a long time ago. It is maddening, how quickly he does this to you.

When you were in high school, Jimin was the golden boy. The dancer, the honors student, the friendly type who knew everyone – even the weird, quiet girl who drew fantasy landscapes in the margins of her notebooks. Once upon a time, you were in love with him.

You even dreamed of him loving you back, but those dreams never became reality. Jimin loved you, of course, but only as a friend. He had a strange sense of protection for the girl on the roof. You realized this not in one moment, but in a thousand little ones all strung together.

You realized it when watching him with his first girlfriend – a bubbly, cheerleader type much like himself. The stake was hammered in further with his second girlfriend, whom he left the first one for. It was obvious when he took you to parties, leaving you talking to his friends in the corners. Obvious when his group booked a limo for prom and you were not invited.

These moments crushed your hope for anything more. And yet, here you are, back on the roof and wishing something more existed.

“Now, I’m happy with my career.” Not looking at him, you exhale. “They hate it, though. They think I threw everything they gave me away.”

Jimin snorts. “Bullshit.”

“Yeah?” You smile before you can help it. Jimin was always protective when it came to your drawing. “I don’t know it is. I had a good job, a stable job. The type of job they wanted so badly to have but couldn’t. I get why they’re mad.”

“You weren’t happy, though,” Jimin points out, rearranging himself on the roof. Somehow, his hand falls closer to yours. “And your drawings are amazing. I’ve seen your website.”

“Oh.” You pause, uncertain how to respond. Strange butterflies take flight in your stomach and you wonder what else he has seen. “Yeah, well. I don’t think they really care about that. Not like your parents do, anyways.”

Jimin’s smile turns bitter. “I guess.”

Now, it is your turn to look at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Shaking his head, Jimin ducks his chin against his chest. The pea coat bunches around his shoulders, making him look more like old Jimin – your Jimin. The high schooler who feared his future, who did not want to quit dance but did, because he had to.

“I mean,” he tries again, frowning. “My parents are proud of me on paper. The love listing my accomplishments to their friends, but when it comes to me…”

He trails off, leaving you to draw your own implication.

“Oh.” Your words soften, glancing away. “I get that. I think that’s how Henry feels sometimes. He likes his job, he really does – but with my parents, it’s not about that. It makes the success feel kind of… hollow, somehow. You know?”

“I do.”

Looking at him, you hesitate. “Jimin… why’d you come up here?”

Jimin is quiet for a moment, rolling the corner of his pea coat with his fingers. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you say, some of your usual sarcasm seeping through. “Maybe because we haven’t spoken in like, five years.”

Jimin’s lips quirk. The gesture disappears almost immediately, replaced with something which could almost be called sadness.

“I heard you moved into the city,” he says quietly.

Your stomach plummets. “Jimin, I…”

“Yeah?”

“I – I didn’t know you knew,” you say, finishing lamely.

“Really?” His laugh is hollow. “Even if we didn’t follow each other on social media, you really thought my mom wouldn’t tell me?”

Shifting uncomfortably, you fail to meet his gaze. “Well. I moved to the city last fall.”

“I know. Why didn’t you look me up?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. Avoiding eye contact, you pick at your sweater. “It’s been a long time, I guess.”

“Too long.”

“Well, why didn’t you reach out?” you demand, looking up. To your surprise, you find Jimin has moved closer.

He stares at you determinedly. “What happened to us, Y/N?”

“What happens to most high school friends?” you stammer, still trying to be casual. “We moved, drifted apart, lost touch…”

“No.” Reaching out, Jimin takes your hand in his. He feels much warmer than you do. “I – oh. You’re cold.”

“N-no shit,” you say, teeth chattering. “I just grabbed this sweater.”

Jimin shifts closer, his right thigh pressing against yours. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

He stares at you for a moment, warmth finally tangible. After so many years without him, the smell of his cologne is almost too much to bear. No longer does he drown in it. You remember the year his mom gave him that for Christmas. The first few weeks of January Jimin fairly bathed in it, until his mom pulled him aside and told him she would throw it away – no matter the cost.

Remembering this makes you smile.

Jimin’s expression remains serious. “Why’d you leave… that night?”

There it is. There is the memory between you which you have been pointedly trying to ignore. The night Jimin kissed you and you ran away. It happened here, on this very rooftop. The night before you left for college, Jimin stole wine coolers from his mom and asked you to celebrate.

He was an absolute lightweight.

Jimin did not drink in high school, unlike you and so, after one wine cooler, he was already giggly. Laying back on the roof, you traced the stars with your fingertips and somehow rolled into his side. His arm slid around your waist, stable and warm.

Softly, he looked down – and kissed you.

It lasted only a moment. A brief miracle before you forced yourself away, leaping up on the roof and flinging open your window. You hurried in, shutting the blinds and ignoring his pleas. Jimin stood there for nearly twenty minutes before you heard him leave. He knew what your parents were like – knew what would happen if they heard him and caught you.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, still looking at him.

“Bullshit.” Jimin says this in the same tone he used to describe your parents.

Stiffening, you sit up. He still holds your hand in his. Despite the sternness of his tone, Jimin continues to trace your fingers through the sweater. He stares, biting down on his lip and you know he does this when he is nervous.

It is surprising how easily you remember. Surprising how easy it is to slip into who you used to be, the dreams you used to want. Perhaps they never really left at all.

“I was scared,” you finally say, barely audible.

“Of me?”

“No,” you say, before you can help it. “Never of you. Of what… I might do to you.”

Jimin’s brow furrows. “You do to me? I don’t understand. How could anything you do be bad?”

The aching sweetness of this reminds you why you loved him. Or, why you love him. It is all so confusing with him here in the moonlight, with you here beside him, remembering ghosts of the past. Turning to face him, your knees graze each other like children.

“I didn’t make sense with you,” you explain. “Everyone knew it in high school, even if they wouldn’t say it out loud. You were always the bright one, the brilliant one – and then there was me.”

“Yeah. And then there was you.” Jimin speaks fiercely. “Grounded, real. Always telling me what you thought, not letting other people get to me for too long. You were the only person who really believed in me. No caveats, just belief.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” he insists. “God, Y/N. How could you think you were bad for me?” Reaching out, he tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Pulling away, his fingertips graze your jaw. “For me, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

“Don’t say ridiculous things,” you say on reflex.

Jimin’s brow furrows. “Did you honestly not realize? The entire time we were friends – you didn’t know I was in love with you?”

Your breath catches at how easily he says this. “But…” Mind spinning, you sift through the memories. “You dated other girls. Took someone else to prom. You didn’t say anything until you kissed me!”

“I know.” Jimin’s expression is tortured. “I only dated those girls though, because you said I should! Don’t you remember? I’d describe my ideal girl to you – describe you – and you’d point someone else out. When I took you to parties, you’d talk to my guy friends. And you accepted someone else’s prom invite before I could ask!”

“What!” You blink, since this is news to you. “What are you talking about?”

“We had a pact.” Despite himself, Jimin nearly smiles. “Remember? We were ten, watching Footloose in my basement and you pinky promised to be my prom date.”

“We were ten,” you say, although you also find yourself smiling. “You didn’t really think –”

“I was planning to ask you the next day,” he interrupts.

Words die on your lips and you can only stare for a moment. “What?”

“Peter Graff asked you on a Friday.” Scooting closer, Jimin takes your other hand in his. “I remember. I remember stopping by your locker and hearing you talk about prom dresses, limo colors, what boutonniere you should buy. I… I had been planning to ask the next day.”

“Jimin, I…”

“I was planning to stand in your yard with a boom box,” he admits, lips curving into a smile. Dark hair falls into his gaze. “You know, like in Say Anything. Except not creepy. And on very low volume, so I didn’t wake your parents.”

“Good call.”

“I thought so.”

It is strange to hear your friendship described in this manner. Because you remember those moments, but through a very different lens. You remember the day Jimin described his ideal girl. You remember crying that night, feeling you fit none of the description. He is right – you were the one who pointed out his first girlfriend, telling him he should really ask her out. It seemed more logical than any other version of the truth.

“When you kissed me…” Swallowing, you force yourself to continue. “It was perfect.”

“Yeah?” Jimin bites his lip.  “Then, why’d you leave?”

“You’d been drinking. I was leaving the next day. I thought maybe… you’d done it out of pity,” you whisper, finally voicing your fears from the night. “I thought you knew how badly I wanted you and it was just your way of saying goodbye. I… I wanted to keep that night the way it was. Perfect.”

“It wasn’t pity.” Jimin catches his breath. “Never.”

“Jimin…”

Lifting his hands to your face, he gently strokes your jaw. “I missed my shot that night,” he determines. “I’ve been a coward lots of ways, my whole life. I didn’t go after you like I should’ve. I haven’t stood up to my parents a million times. But I’ll be damned if I fuck this up again.”

Before you can respond, he kisses you.

His lips are soft, warm despite the bitterness of the night. He tastes like vanilla Chapstick and wine and you only hesitate a moment before kissing him back. The kiss is nothing like your first. That was a moment between teenagers, too scared to ask for what you both wanted. Now, you know what you want.

Greedily, your lips part as your hands wrap around his. At the first brush of your tongue, Jimin releases a groan. You kiss like this for a while, gently exploring the new boundaries between you. Whatever once was is shattered but something new exists in its place.

Finally, you drag yourself away and open your eyes. “Is this why you came here tonight?” you whisper, the world somehow seeming brighter. “To kiss me again?”

“Amongst other things.” His lips quirk when he laughs, shaking his head. “No. I came out because I saw you on the roof.”

He does not need to explain what it means. You only come out on the roof when you are upset. Unthinkingly, your heart starts to swell.

“You still remembered?” you ask, thumb brushing his neck.

“I meant what I said. For me, it’s you.”

  © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[vex-bittys]

Flufftober 2020: Day Seven

Prompt: Dancing

Pairing: Horrortale Skelebros

Category: Familial

----------

It was so strange. Without the pressing need to scavenge for any scrap of food that they could get their hands on, the skeleton brothers who’d escaped from the Horrortale universe found themselves with an abundance of free time and no idea how to fill it. Axe appreciated the down time, but Crooks believed that he and his brother needed activities to burn off their excess magic and calm Axe’s nagging mania.

Cooking classes were out of the question; the skeleton brothers still saw food as something sacred. It tempted fate to use it for creative pursuits, and the two skeletons would never truly lose their paranoia of losing it. Crooks preferred something relaxing but with motion and beauty, something that embodied everything that their Underground had lacked. Axe agreed with anything that brought a smile to his brother’s face, so they decided to try dancing.

A few internet searches pointed the pair of skeletons to weekly Latin dance lessons at the local community center. Crooks stared in excitement at the photos on the community center webpage. The dancers wore vibrant outfits and their movements embodied powerful emotion. Most importantly, Crooks felt that his extremely long limbs could be tamed into the graceful positions and elegant expressions of the dance. 

Axe and Crooks signed up for the classes immediately, and Crooks’ excitement only grew as their first session drew near. The tall skeleton bounced in place as Axe opened the door to the community center gymnasium. The murmur of conversation trailed off as every eye in the room, all of them both curious and human, turned to the monsters in their midst. The humans closest to Crooks shrank away in fear, and one woman shrieked before clapping both of her hands over her mouth to silence herself.

Axe was no stranger to fear and revulsion. In the Underground and here on the Surface, everyone he met, human and monster, viewed his broken skull and ragged red eyelight with blatant uneasiness and poorly disguised disgust. He expected it, and it didn’t really bother him anymore. One look at Crooks’ distraught features told Axe that his brother was bothered by it… a lot.

Suddenly, Axe saw enemies, threats, danger. His mind quickly grew crowded with confused thoughts that he couldn’t untangle, and this reality became jumbled with his former life in the Underground. Crooks grabbed his arm, hastily mumbled apologies, and backed out of the room as Axe’s one working eyelight expanded and began to glow.

“COME ALONG BROTHER,” the gentle giant coaxed his brother in a soothing voice. Still gathering his thoughts, Axe followed Crooks out of the community center building building and away from the judgmental dance students. It took him hours to settle his mind and react appropriately to the situation.

“stupid humans act like they’ve never seen a skeleton before. they’ve got a skeleton inside ‘em all the time, but the sight of one still sets ‘em off, screaming and carryin’ on,” Axe ranted.

“I FRIGHTEN THEM, BROTHER. I AM VERY TALL, AND MY TEETH ARE QUITE STARTLING IN APPEARANCE,” Crooks argued though he secretly felt ashamed and embarrassed by the whole debacle.

“yer perfect, bro, and they can shove their dumb prejudices up their fleshy-” Axe proceeded to explain in exceptionally graphic detail exactly what the humans should (but were probably physically unable to) do with their opinions of Crooks. 

Though the incident at the community center left him crestfallen, Crooks appreciated his brother’s quick defense of him. Even if nobody else liked him, he knew he could trust Axe to have his best interests at heart. He just needed to figure out a different hobby, preferably one that didn’t involve interacting with humans.

Axe refused to let the matter drop though. He didn’t mention it to his brother, but he spent a great deal of time researching Latin dance instructors in their area. One by one, he contacted them about lessons for self-conscious monsters. He doubted he could lure Crooks to another class, but perhaps he could learn the dance steps and instruct Crooks himself? He remembered the expression on Crooks’ face when they’d first discovered Latin dance, and that image drove him on until he found a teacher.

The wizened woman had once danced professionally, and she had retired from her days both as a professional and an instructor, a fact which she explained to Axe over the phone right before she hung up on him. Most of the potential teachers waited until he mentioned being a monster with a grotesque head injury before turning him down. Retired, he could deal with. He contacted her again, telling her in one babbling rush about Crooks and the community center incident.

The other end of the phone line was silent, but he didn’t hear a dial tone, only the weight of unspoken consideration. “And he won’t come to classes?” the elderly woman asked.

“”he’s very self-conscious already,” explained Axe, “an’ after what happened, he’s reluctant t’ go out in public again.”

“Understandable. I expect you to be at my studio at 8 am sharp.”

Punctuality never mattered much to Axe, but every single day he showed up promptly at 8 o’clock in the morning for his private dance lessons. The focus needed to learn the complex steps helped him calm his often tumultuous mind, and he found himself truly enjoying each dance that he learned. There were many to learn, it turned out. Latin dance was a style of dancing, not just one set of dance steps, and it included many different dance types.

After months of intensive lessons, Axe could samba and mambo with the best of them, and his paso doble had been declared passable! Thankfully, his instructor also made him practice teaching the steps. When she finally declared him ready, she also challenged him to convince Crooks to visit the studio because flamenco (the style of dance that mesmerized him the most) required an expertise to teach that Axe couldn’t develop in a short amount of time.

She also asked him an important question: Had he been able to find an outfit for Crooks (who absolutely adored the dresses worn in Latin dances) in his very unusual size. Axe hadn’t considered clothing, and admitted this to the kindly older woman. She nodded; his answer didn’t surprise her. Fortunately, in addition to being a talented dancer, she possessed some decent skills as a seamstress and had designed all of her own competition costumes. 

With Crooks’ estimated measurements in hand, the woman promised to have something ready in time for Axe’s surprise at the end of the month. Axe warned her not to overwork herself, but excitement over doing something kind for Crooks was apparently extremely contagious. When the instructor showed him her sketches the next day, Axe’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. These dresses were everything Crooks could ever want and more, all saturated fire tones and ruffles that would echo and accentuate every movement of Crooks’ body.

The woman refused all of Axe’s offers of money, saying that she wanted to see Crooks happy more than she needed cash. After all, she pointed out, she was retired and no longer taking on paying clients. Over the course of their lessons, she had come to consider Axe, and by extension, Crooks, to be friends.

Axe snuck the garment bag into his brother’s room while Crooks was busy doing magic exercises. With the costume stealthily delivered, Axe went downstairs and approached his brother. “remember how you wanted t’ learn Latin dancing?” he asked Crooks; if you asked Axe about subtly, he would’ve guessed it was a hot beverage.

Crooks tensed instantly, remembering the woman who had screamed at the sight of him. “NO, NO. THAT’S ALRIGHT. I DON’T WANT TO MAKE PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE. I DON’T WANT THEM TO BE SCARED OF ME,” the last words came out softly, as quiet as Crooks’ voice ever sounded.

“lucky for you then: i took some classes myself. got you an outfit n’ everything. i can teach you myself now.” Axe smiled proudly. Crooks stood frozen for a moment then swept Axe up into his arms, spinning him around. As soon as he set Axe back on his feet, he dashed upstairs, and Axe heard his gasps of wonder when he saw the custom-tailored garment.

Axe said a silent thank you to his instructor-cum-seamstress for her talent. Even working with estimates alone for Crooks’ measurements, the costume fit wonderfully, clinging and flowing in all of the right places. Crooks almost floated down the stairs, doing a little twirl at the bottom to show the flounce of the skirt.

Axe stepped forward and made a formal bow. He’d removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt printed to look like a tuxedo though he still wore his basketball shorts. Looking up at Crooks’ unabashed smile he asked: “may i have this dance?”

READ ON AO3

DAY SIX | INDEX | DAY EIGHT

[winchester19-67]

A Fresh Start - Part 13

Pairing: Single Parent!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of child abuse, Fluff

Word Count: 4,570

Square Filled: Mechanic AU

A/N: This is Part 13 of A Fresh Start. This was written for @spnfluffbingo​.

Series Masterlist

“You’re sure that it’s okay if I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles at you as he shuts the front door. “If you didn’t then I’d have to drag Coop out so that you could babysit him.”

“Thank you, Dean, for taking me by the house so that I could grab some clothes.”

“No problem,” Dean tells you. “Guest room is all set up and you can put your things in there.”

“Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me,” Dean tells you softly.

“Then stop being so nice to me.”

“I’ve gotta make up for being a jerk for a while,” Dean tells you.

“That didn’t happen, Dean,” you tell him. “We gotta put that behind us and forget about it. A fresh start, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles at you as he leans in to take your face between both of his hands. Dean presses his lips to yours as his thumbs softly run over your cheeks. Dean gently moves you over towards the couch but he pulls away and looks down at you.

“What?” you ask him softly. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Dean tells you. “It’s just that… We shouldn’t do this. We’ve gotta act like we’ve never done this before.”

“Mhm,” you mumble. “It’s tempting.”

“Really tempting,” Dean says softly. “But we shouldn’t.”

“No we shouldn’t,” you shake your head.

“I mean, it’s nothing new to us,” Dean says. “But, like I said, fresh start and everything. So, yeah, bad idea.”

“Real bad idea,” you smile. Dean leans in to kiss you and you wrap your arms around Dean’s neck. Dean brushes some hair off of your shoulder and presses a kiss to your bare skin there. Dean groans as you attach your lips to his neck.

“(Y/N).”

“Hm?”

“We, um, we really should take this slow you know,” Dean tells you. “I know that it’s tempting but I think that… Sweetheart, you’ve gotta stop kissing my neck like that so that I can concentrate.” You giggle as Dean gently grabs onto both of your arms and pulls you away enough so that he can look you in eyes. “(Y/N), don’t think that I don’t want to do this. But I think that it would be better if we did take things slow. That is, if you do want to try us.”

“I want to,” you tell Dean softly as you look up at him. “And you’re right, Dean. If we want to have a shot at making this work then we can’t act like before. We can’t pick up where we left off expecting things to work out.”

“Exactly,” Dean swallows hard. You begin to untuck Dean’s shirt from his pants and he grabs your hands. “I thought that we weren’t…”

“We’re not,” you tell Dean. “I want you to take your shirt off.” Dean chuckles as you work with the buttons on his shirt and slide the material over Dean’s shoulders. You slowly run your hands over Dean’s bare chest as you slide his shirt off of him.

“Do I still look the same way that you remembered?”

You look up at Dean and smile at him. “Even better.”

Dean laughs as he brings a hand up to your head and tangles his fingers in your hair. Dean rests his free hand on your waist and he pulls you in. Dean moves his lips against yours as he gently tugs on your hair, earning a moan from you. When you both pull away breathlessly from the kiss, you rest your foreheads together and smile widely at each other.

“I don’t want to do this by myself anymore,” Dean tells you softly. “I want you to be there when I go to court for Avery.”

“Done,” you tell him.

“And?” Dean asks as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“And what?”

“Well, you don’t want to do this alone either, right?” Dean asks you. “I mean, don’t you want me to stick around and be your big strong protector when people like that idiot at the restaurant try to lay a hand on you?”

You fake a gasp. “You mean that you’d do that for me?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean smiles at you and you know that he means it.

“Well, I’ll think about it,” you tease him. Dean leans in to kiss you once more.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah, Dean?”

“I’m sorry,” Dean tells you. “I’m sorry that I ran off and I’m sorry that I partially lied to you as to why I did it. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you everything at first and that I made myself suffer through it all alone. I’m sorry that I tried to live our life without you. Moving into the house that we picked out together and naming my son Cooper because that’s a name that we both liked. I’m sorry that I was so mean to you when you were helping me out. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s alright,” you tell Dean softly as you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I’m sorry…”

“Shh,” Dean tells you as he presses a finger to your lips. “You have nothing that you need to apologize for, sweetheart.”

“Dean, I should have…”

“Shh,” Dean tells you as he presses his lips to yours. “Do we have everything out of the way now?”

“Yeah,” you smile softly.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah, Dean?”

“You could stay in my room with me tonight if you want to,” Dean tells you as his lips brush up against yours.

“Dean…”

“No funny business,” Dean says. “I mean it. I think that we would both sleep better.”

“Okay,” you tell Dean softly. “If you’ll behave.”

Dean smirks at you. “I’ll try for you, sweetheart.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to the sound of a phone ringing. You feel Dean move underneath you where you have your head resting over onto his chest.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dean whispers as he presses his lips to your temple. Dean reaches over onto his nightstand and picks his phone up. “Hello?” Dean sits up and gently moves you over to the other side of the bed and jumps up to his feet. “I overslept. Sorry… I know that you’ve got clients to meet but why are you dropping off Coop anyways? Mom and Dad kept him.” Dean rolls his eyes as he looks over to where you’re laying down still. “They hate me that much? Yeah, okay. Listen, Sammy, I can’t teleport so let me get to the front door before you chew my head off.” Dean hangs up the phone and looks at you.

“You’re not telling Sam that…”

“Not right now,” Dean tells you as he shakes his head at you.

“Oh.”

Dean’s heart breaks when he sees the look on your face. “(Y/N), sweetheart.” Dean places a finger underneath your chin and lifts your head up to look you in the eyes. “Slow.”

“I know.”

Dean leans over to press his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna go get my little buddy and then I’ll fix you breakfast.”

“Dean, you don’t have to…”

Dean turns to walk out of the room and you shake your head in his direction.

“Daddy!” Cooper squeals out when Dean opens the front door.

“Hey, there’s Daddy’s little buddy,” Dean smiles widely as he takes his son out of Sam’s arms. “Were you good for Grandma and Grandpa?”

“They said that he got a little fussy last night and was chewing on his hand.”

“Teething,” Dean sighs. “(Y/N)’s gonna have fun with you now that you’re going to be grumpy.”

“Speaking of (Y/N), why is her car in the driveway?”

“None of your business.”

“So she’s here?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re defensive. She slept here,” Sam tells him.

Dean rolls his eyes. “(Y/N)’s car broke down and I had it towed here.”

“Okay,” Sam tells Dean with a teasing grin. “Dean, please try to not break her heart this time.”

“Why do you care?”

“Look, (Y/N) was part of our family when you were together,” Sam tells Dean. “I care about her.”

“You know that I didn’t hurt her on purpose, Sam.”

“I know,” Sam tells Dean. “Dean, for some stupid reason that I’ll never understand, (Y/N) loves you. Don’t hurt her.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t you have clients to see or something?”

“Yeah,” Sam laughs. He looks over at Cooper and ruffles his hair a bit. “Be good, kiddo.”

Dean shuts the door and turns with Cooper in his arms to walk into the kitchen. “Wanna help me, little buddy?” Cooper gasps as his little eyes widen and he looks up at Dean.

“I help!”

Dean chuckles as he presses a kiss to Cooper’s temple and carries him over to the counter. Dean sits Cooper down onto the countertop and hands him a bowl.

“Hold that for me,” Dean tells Cooper as he walks over to the fridge. Dean pulls the eggs out of the fridge and he turns to see Cooper wiggling around on the counter.

“Sit still,” Dean tells Cooper as he walks over to him.

“No,” Cooper giggles as he moves some more and gives Dean a look as if he’s telling Dean that there’s nothing that he can do.

“Coop,” Dean says as he gently grabs onto his little leg. “Be still.”

“No.”

Dean puts his hands onto Cooper’s sides and smiles at him. “What was that?”

“No.”

Dean moves his fingers enough to make Cooper giggle loudly.

“No!” Cooper’s loud squeals echo through the kitchen as Dean gently tickles his sides. “Daddy! No!” Cooper laughs as he tries his best to push Dean’s hands away.

“You gonna behave?” Dean asks Cooper as he picks him up from off of the countertop. What Dean doesn’t know is that you’re standing there in the doorway watching the both of them.

“No.”

“Yeah. That’s what I figured.”

“Leave little man alone,” you tell Dean as you step into the kitchen. Dean startles a bit and he turns to face you.

“How…”

“I saw everything,” you smile.

Dean rolls his eyes at you as he hands Cooper over to you. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.”

“I’m sorry,” you smile softly as Dean leans over to kiss you. “This way me and you can sit at the table together.”

“I guess,” Dean mumbles.

“Don’t be grumpy,” you laugh. “I’ll go get in bed if you want me to.”

“No, that’s okay,” Dean sighs. “Go sit down. I’ll get the food cooked.”

“I help!” Cooper says as he reaches over for Dean.

“Let (Y/N) take you,” Dean tells Cooper as he ruffles his hair a bit. “You’re too wiggly.”

“Daddy.”

“(Y/N)’s gothca, little buddy,” Dean tells Cooper as he turns to cook. Cooper pouts and you bounce him a bit trying to cheer him up.

“Why don’t you help me with getting the table set?” you tell Cooper. His little eyes widen when he hears the word help and he nods his little head.

“I hope that he stays this way,” Dean tells you. “Wanting to help. I know that he has little temper tantrums but that’s part of being a kid.”

“Dean, you’re doing a great job with him.”

Dean looks over at you and you smile at each other. “Couldn’t have done it without you here lately. Felt like I was losing my mind with everything going on with Avery. I still do.”

“You’re hiding it well,” you tell Dean. He gives you a small smile as he turns to face the stove. “Okay, little man, let’s let Daddy cook while me and you set the table.” ~~~~~~

“Is it going to live?”

Dean looks up when you walk into the garage and he smiles at you. “Sweetheart, your car’s like you. Giving me the hardest time out of any other car that I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Haha,” you roll your eyes.

“I’m kidding,” Dean smiles as he walks over to you, wiping the grease on his hands onto a rag as he walks. “Where’s Coop?”

“Nap. I think he’s teething.”

“Yeah. I forgot to tell you Mom and Dad told Sam that Cooper was chewing on his hands so I figured that he was trying to get some new teeth in.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t hear him crying out for you while ago. You’ve got the kid spoiled.”

Dean chuckles as he looks over at you. “Can’t help it. Cooper almost didn’t live when I first found him and Avery.”

“I wasn’t meaning that it was a bad thing,” you tell Dean.

“I know,” he says softly. “They couldn’t get Cooper to eat at the hospital. I was the one who could get Cooper to take his bottle. He would’ve died if I hadn’t stepped in and took him. I knew then that I couldn’t let him and Avery go to social services. I couldn’t let them be tossed around from foster home to foster home.”

You know that Dean is getting upset so you reach out and you place a hand onto his shoulder. “Hey, Avery is alright.”

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know who has her and I don’t know if she’s eating good or if she…”

“Dean, you can’t do that,” you tell Dean. “Avery is alright.”

Dean swallows hard. “I need my little girl.”

“You’ll get Avery. I know that you will.”

Dean gives you a sad smile as he nods his head a bit. “Yeah,” he chokes out. Dean clears his throat as he turns to look out into the garage. “I’m gonna go kick your car some more.”

“Okay,” you smile softly. Dean leans in to kiss you and you wrap your arms around his neck. “You tell me if you need to talk about anything.”

“I will, sweetheart,” Dean tells you softly. Cooper screams and Dean laughs a bit as he shakes his head. “The boss is awake.”

“I’ll go see what little man needs.”

“Alright,” Dean smiles as he gives you another kiss and turns to walk away.

“Will it break down with me on the drive home?” you tease Dean as you throw your things into the passenger’s seat of your car.

“Hope not,” Dean smiles at you as he leans up against your car.

“How much?”

“How much what?” Dean asks.

“How much do I owe you for fixing that thing?”

“Nothing.”

“Dean…”

“Hey, can’t a guy do something nice for his own girlfriend without her asking how much she owes him?”

“But you pay me for babysitting the kids.”

“Because you do that everyday,” Dean tells you. “This is a onetime thing that doesn’t happen all of the time.”

“So if my care breaks down on me after this then you’ll charge me?”

“Double,” Dean smiles. You giggle as Dean kisses you sweetly and rests his forehead against yours.

“So, I’m your girlfriend now?”

“Well, I mean, the way you were talking last night I figured that…”

“I’m fine with it,” you tell Dean truthfully.

“I won’t hurt you this time around.”

“I know, Dean,” you tell him softly. “I know. I trust you.” Dean kisses you more firmly this time and tightens his hold on you.

“Call me to let me know that you’re home okay,” Dean says softly.

“I will.”

“Daddy!” Cooper hollers from his spot on the porch as he reaches out towards Dean.

“Stay there, little buddy.” Dean looks over at you and you smile up at him.

“Let me know when the court date is,” you tell Dean.

“I will, sweetheart.”

You take your place behind the wheel and Dean shuts the door. Dean waves at you as you drive off.

“Daddy!”

“Alright, Coop.” Dean walks over and Cooper reaches up for Dean to take him.

“Up, Daddy!”

“Okay, little buddy,” Dean says as he picks him up and kisses his head. “Let’s go see what kind of trouble me and you can get into.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t be nervous,” you tell Dean softly as you walk into the courthouse.

“’M not.”

“Is that why we’re here an hour early?”

Dean huffs out a breath as he tightens his hold on Cooper and turns to face you. “Okay. A little.”

“Daddy!”

Dean turns to see Avery standing there smiling widely and waving at him. You can see Dean relax and wave at Avery.

“Hi, bug,” Dean smiles widely.

Avery pouts a bit. “I wanna hug you but I can’t yet.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Dean says loud enough so that Avery can hear him. “It’s alright.” Dean takes a deep breath and he looks over at you. “My daughter is right there and I can’t touch her. I want to take her into my arms and I can’t even hardly talk to her.”

“Well, you’ll be able to give her all the hugs that you want at home.”

Dean smiles softly at you as you both take a seat. “I’m glad that you’re more confident than I am.”

“That’s what I’m here for. You’ll panic and I will be here to talk you down.” You reach over to rub a hand over Dean’s shoulders as you take his free hand in yours. You watch Avery as she turns around from her seat in the front to look at Dean. You move to sit up and Dean looks over at you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Avery doesn’t know yet.”

“Sweetheart, Avery is going to be so happy when we tell her.”

“I know,” you tell Dean softly as you reach over to fix Cooper’s shirt a bit. “She shouldn’t find out by looking at us and seeing me all cuddled up beside of you.” Dean chuckles as he looks up at Avery and he smiles widely at her. Avery turns to whisper to the woman sitting next to her.

“Is that her case worker?”

“Yeah,” Dean tells you as he nods his head at you. Dean watches as the woman nods her head and Avery hops off of her seat. She turns and runs over to Dean smiling from ear to ear.

“Daddy!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dean tells Avery as he picks her up and sits her onto his lap and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I can see you for five minutes.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Dean tells her.

“Sissy!” Cooper hollers as he reaches out towards Avery.

“Hey, bubby,” Avery giggles.

“I think that he missed his sister,” Dean tells Avery.

“I missed you, Daddy,” Avery tells Dean as tears gather up in her eyes.

“I missed you, bug, but please don’t cry,” Dean tells her softly.

Avery looks around. “Where’s Uncle Sammy at?”

“He’ll be here, sweetheart.”

Avery looks over at you and she smiles. “Hi, (Y/N).”

“Hey, sweetie,” you tell her softly as you reach over to push some hair out of her eyes.

“Munchkin.”

Avery’s eyes widen as she looks up. “Uncle Sammy!”

Sam laughs as he picks Avery up out of Dean’s lap. “You’ve been a good girl?”

“Yeah,” Avery giggles as she reaches out towards Dean. “I want my Daddy now.”

Dean chuckles as he takes Avery and holds onto her tightly. “I love you, baby girl,” Dean tells Avery softly.

“I love you, Daddy.”

Dean holds onto Avery and she grips onto him. Avery’s little hands tangle up into Dean’s shirt and you try your best not to reach over to lay a hand onto Dean’s arms. Avery’s case worker turns and motions for her and Dean takes a deep breath.

“Bug.”

“No,” Avery whines as she hides her face in Dean’s neck. “No, Daddy, no.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Hey, munchkin, if you can dry those tears then I’ll take you out for ice cream,” Sam tells Avery.

Avery sniffs as she looks over at Sam. “You can’t.”

“I can if your Daddy will let me.”

Avery looks at Dean and he smiles at her. “You and Sam can go out for ice cream.”

“But what if I don’t…”

“You will go home with me and Cooper, bug.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Dean tells Avery as he gives her another kiss.

“Avery!”

Dean looks over to see Avery’s case worker giving her a look and Avery slips off of Dean’s lap. “Daddy,” Avery says as she looks up at Dean with tears in her eyes.

“It’s alright, Avery,” Dean tells her as he wipes her tears away with his thumbs. “Be brave for Daddy.”

Avery nods her little head at Dean as she walks off.

“Sissy!” Cooper hollers as he reaches out for Avery.

“Hang in there, little buddy,” Dean tells him. Dean winces as the loud wails echo through the court room.

“You need me to go out with him?”

Dean looks over at you and you give him a soft smile. “(Y/N), I couldn’t ask for you to do that for me.”

“You’re not asking, Dean. I’m offering to do it.”

“Alright,” Dean tells you as he hands Cooper over to you. “Thank you.”

You lean over to kiss Dean and you try not to laugh when Sam gags. Dean looks over and scowls at Sam.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sam laughs as he holds his hands up. You walk off and Sam smiles over at Dean. “You’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Dean says softly as he watches you walk off.

“Is it going anywhere?”

“I hope so,” Dean says.

“She’s stepping into the role of the Mom for the kids.”

“She’s the babysitter, Sam.”

“She’s getting paid for today?”

“No.”

“Then (Y/N)’s doing this because she cares for you and the monkeys.”

Dean nods as he stares over at Avery. “She’s helped me a lot.” Dean looks over at Sam. “What’re the odds?”

“That you’ll win?”

“Yeah,” Dean nods slowly.

Sam shakes his head. “I don’t know.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean’s heart has never felt lighter than it does right now. With Avery in his arms knowing that he gets to take her home with him, he’s truly happy.

“Told you that I wouldn’t give up on you, Avery,” Dean tells her.

“I knew you wouldn’t, Daddy,” Avery says softly as she cries into Dean’s neck. Dean stands up off of the ground where he knelt down to take Avery into his arms, and Avery looks over at her Uncle Sammy.

“Daddy gets to keep me!”

“I know, munchkin,” Sam laughs as he rubs a hand over Avery’s head, trying not to mess up her hair.

“Hey, Avery, instead of Sam taking you out for ice cream, why don’t we have ice cream and cake at the house tomorrow?” Dean asks her.

“Okay,” Avery nods. “Will Uncle Sammy be there?”

“Sure will, Avery,” Sam smiles.

Avery’s little eyes widen. “Grandma and Grandpa too?”

“Dean,” Sam says softly, knowing that it’s not likely.

“Promise, bug,” Dean smiles. “Let’s go find (Y/N) and Cooper and tell them that you’re going home with us.”

“Okay,” Avery smiles widely.

Dean walks out of the courtroom to find you sitting in a chair in the hallway with Cooper asleep in your arms. You look up and smile when you see the look on Dean’s face.

“Good news?”

“Really good news,” Dean smiles as he kneels down in front of you with Avery in his arms. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t be in there with us.”

“Hey, I was helping you take care of Cooper. I would’ve loved to be in there but I knew that you needed me to do this.” Dean lays a hand onto Cooper’s forehead and he frowns a bit.

“He’s burning up.”

“He’s acting like his teeth are still bothering him.”

“Poor thing,” Dean says as Avery slides down out of his lap and turns to walk off. “Avery?” She looks over at Sam and Dean nods his head. “Go on, bug.” Avery runs over to Sam as Dean turns to face you once more.

“So it’s all settled? Avery’s yours now?”

Dean takes a deep breath. “Another court date for Avery’s actual adoption but I am her legal guardian right now and Sam said that the adoption should go through without anymore legal trouble.”

“That’s good,” you smile.

“Yeah,” Dean swallows hard. “(Y/N), thank you. I don’t know what I would have done here lately without you here.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Dean smiles at you as he leans up to kiss you but you pull away a bit before Dean’s lips meet yours.

“She’s not looking,” Dean chuckles as he presses his lips to yours.

“Daddy!” Avery gasps.

“Oops,” Dean laughs as his eyes widen a bit.

“You knew that Avery was looking over here,” you tell Dean as you playfully shove at his shoulder. Dean laughs as he smiles up at you. Avery runs over and looks up at Dean with wide eyes.

“Is (Y/N) my Mommy now?”

“Not exactly, bug,” Dean tells her softly. “But you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.”

“Good,” Avery smiles.

“Alright, let’s go home,” Dean says as he stands up from off of the floor.

“Dean,” Sam says as he walks over to him. “What are you going to do to get Mom and Dad to agree to that?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Dean tells Sam.

Sam sighs and nods his head at Dean. “Alright.” Sam looks down at Avery and he smiles widely at her. “Be a good girl, munchkin.”

“I will,” Avery tells Sam as she waves at him.

You give Dean a look as you stand up with Cooper in your arms. “What was that about?”

“I’ll tell you,” Dean says as he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you down the hallway and out the doors of the courthouse. Dean opens up the door of the car and you go to put Cooper in his seat. Dean walks over to the other side of the car and he straps Avery in. Dean shuts the door and looks over at you.

“I told Avery that we could have a little something at the house tomorrow to celebrate, and Avery wants Mom and Dad to be there.”

���You promised Avery that they would be.”

Dean sighs as he nods his head at you. “I’m not breaking my promise to my daughter.”

“I know you won’t,” you tell Dean as you give him a small smile.

“You want to go to the house for a while?” Dean asks you.

“You’ll want some time with Avery and Cooper by yourself,” you tell Dean.

“Avery, Cooper, and also you,” Dean tells you sincerely. You give Dean a small smile and you nod your head at him.

“Okay. If you really want me to be there,” you tell Dean.

“I wouldn’t have it to be any other way, sweetheart,” Dean says as he gives you a wide smile.

“You think that Avery’s okay with us?”

Dean chuckles. “(Y/N), she asked me when you started babysitting them if you could be their Mom. Avery’s thrilled, trust me.”

You take a deep breath. “Dean, I don’t know if me and you can make things work out. I hope that we do, but if we decide that it is too much then I want you know that I’ll be here as a Mother for those two if you need me.”

“I appreciate that, sweetheart,” Dean tells you softly. “Now, let’s go home so I can hold my girls and my little buddy in my arms. I don’t plan on letting go of either of you for the rest of today.”

You laugh as you give Dean a wide smile. “Sounds good to me.”

Tags: @deans-baby-momma​ @ilvetaquitosmmmm @winchestergirl82​ @fandomoverdose666​ @satans-0-spawn​ @ofpoetryandlove​ @vicmc624​  @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @kaz11283 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @a-dorky-book-keeper @maralisa124 @crazybutconfidentaf @cookiechipdough @leviathans-watching @kalesrebellion @flamencodiva @onethirstyunicorn @meganoid1997 @mlovesstories @jodibullock1 @squirrelnotsam @supraveng @socalgem1124 @perpetualabsurdity @captaincvans @spnbaby-67 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @lyarr24@smokey102 @foxyjwls007 @toomuchtv95 @polina-93 @poetryazenth @missafairy @idksupernatural @dancingalone21 @aggressivemidget @babypink224221 @akshi8278 @hobby27​

[henryobsessed]

The Widow and The Witcher Chapter 11

Summery: Geralt goes to fight the Bruxa and Julia is bonding with Ciri

Word Count: 2500

Warning: Fight Scene, Supernatural event

A/N This is my first fight scene so if this is your thing would love some pointers :) 

Chapter 11

It had taken a full morning to gather his items from the merchants, and the Villager had met Geralt in the marketplace at noon. After eating a quick meal, they set off. It was a quiet Journey, the Villager whose name was Nial only spoke when necessary which suited Geralt's mood. That night they bedded down at a tavern in the next town. Geralt didn't sleep well, instead, his mind kept running through his plan of attack. The Bruxa had uncanny speed and invisibility so he would need the element of surprise, to catch it in the act of enticing someone. He would only have one chance, once it knew he was there he would have to act fast. Hopefully, striking it with his silver sword and if not then last resort allowing it to bite him which was not an option he wished to pursue.

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The day Geralt had left, Julia thankfully had no clients. During the morning Ciri and Julia had distracted themselves in the kitchen with Nessie learning how to bake Nessie's famous chocolate chip cookies. That afternoon Ciri stood in front of a Tobias and 10 other men, she held her sword and instructed them in the art of defensive sword techniques. "Remember to block your opponent, then think strategically don't just act out of anger." Dividing them into pairs they then began to practice her sword movements. Geralt had left instructions for Ciri to teach Tobias and any servants from the estate who wished to learn so there would be more than one prepared to fight.

While they practised Renee and Julia walked in the gardens picking flowers to brighten the bedrooms and the dining hall. As Julia was admiring the vivid colours of the roses, Renee settled her basket next to hers "Julia, I have to tell you something." Julia turned regarding Renee, her young friend seemed to be bursting at the seams with a joy that seemed to radiate from her being. Renee placed her hands on her belly and just smiled at Julia nodding. Pulling Renee into a hug she squeezed her friend, who she now considered as a daughter. Smiling she said "oh Renee, that is so exciting. How long have you known?" blushing Renee said, "I think this is a honeymoon baby"

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The following two days Geralt and Nial travelled at a steady pace arriving at his Village late on the third day. The weary travellers were greeted by Nial's wife Anna along with their youngest daughter. Anna led them into the small cottage. They were not poor, but it was a modest home with a single area that served as a living and eating area, as well as the kitchen. Off to the right of this room were two doors leading to the bedrooms one for the parents and one for the children. They shared a simple meal together of steamed vegetables. Together they sat on cushions on the floor around a small low table which held the steaming bowls of food and their cups of water.

Even though they had a terrible loss, there was a palpable love that was shared between them. It was made evident by a look, a gentle touch, and words of praise as Nial said "Anna, this is a beautiful meal. I have missed your cooking while we have been apart." Once the meal was finished Nial's daughter curled up in her father's lap a peace falling over the child's face as the adults talked. Nial making sure his daughter safely tucked in his arms was sleeping directed a more pointed conversation to Geralt "How are you going to catch and kill this monster. What will be your needs to accomplish this?"

Geralt looked to both Nial and Anna expecting to see anger, revenge on their faces but instead saw only sadness. Anna had moved to lean into Nial at this point and the family unit made Geralt's arms ache for Julia and Ciri. Lowering his head he looked at his hands, unsure of how to answer Nial's question. Looking back up to the grieving family he spoke "I will need to be diligent to keep watch to see if any more young men are enticed away from the village. Once I see that I will be able to follow and dispatch the Bruxa. They are cunning and unless they feel safe will not venture near again. I will sleep in this room as the window faces the forest. I should be able to see from this vantage point."

At this the small group fell silent, the weight of what was ahead for the Witcher weighed heavily on his mind. The small family also sensed this and quietly went about setting up for bed. Geralt watched as Nial stood his sleeping child in his arms. A look of love on his face as he gazed at her while walking to her room. Anna moved silently and quickly, setting up a pallet for Geralt to sleep or rest on as he kept watch from the window. She came to his side and placing a small hand on his arm whispered "Thank you for coming, we are praying to the unnamed God that you are successful in your hunt. We don't want any more families to have to endure the pain we have felt." She shyly reached up and kissed him on the cheek before exiting the room.

Geralt's hand went to his cheek, this was the first time outside of Wolnosci that he had been treated with such care. What was it about these people who sprouted homage to this unnamed God! Frustration was building in Geralt, he missed Julia, missed Ciri, and even missed the dam mundane of the estate. Looking out the window he tried to focus to adjust his eyes to the night. An hour passed as he tried to keep his mind focused and then he saw movement.

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Julia had not been able to relax since Geralt had left three days ago. Renee and Ciri had tried everything to distract her and Renee had almost succeeded with her news. However here she was again full of worry. Ciri, Renee, and Tobias were doing sums over at the table in the library when Ciri looked over to Julia. She was sitting in her chair staring into the flames again her hands balling in her skirt brow furrowed. Wishing she could do something to ease Julia's worry she spoke to Tobias " Can I be excused, I think I need to go talk with Julia" seeing the concern in Ciri's eyes he excused her.

Ciri walked over to Julia and knelt by her chair, taking Julia's balled hands in hers. This startled Julia who looked down at the child with surprise. Seeing the child wanted to be with her she moved to the rug on the floor just as she would have with Geralt. Maneuvering themselves so Ciri was cuddled into Julia, her arms around the young girl Julia sighed. How did this precious child know she needed this physical contact? Ciri spoke quietly "Julia, Geralt will be ok. He's one of the best of the Witcher's." The young girl's voice held so much conviction Julia could not help but be soothed. Sighing Julia stroked Ciri's arm and responded "I know Ciri, but when you care about someone so deeply. It's hard to trust that they will be ok. You want the best for them, and you want to protect them. I hate that he is putting himself in harm's way. That I'm not there to help him if he is injured." Ciri knew what Julia was saying. She herself had pleaded with Geralt to take her with him so she could fight alongside him. It had only been Geralt extracting a promise to stay and protect Julia that made her agree to let him go.

The clock over the mantel struck 10 and as they all prepared to retire for the night Ciri looked to Julia. Feeling Julia needed more comfort Ciri asked: "Can sleep with you tonight?" Julia also sensing the child needed comfort agreed. Together they walked back to her room. Changing into there nightgowns they moved between the warmed sheets and Julia tucked Ciri into her arms. As Ciri's breathing started to even out, indicating she was falling asleep, Julia looked at the child in her arms. This child who had been unexpected had grown on Julia, and right now she was feeling a warm maternal love growing deeper inside her heart for Geralt's child surprise.

Geralt moved silently amongst the trees, just ahead of him he could see the young man and the tall raven-haired beauty. Her skin so white it glowed under the moon's rays making her hair stand out even more stark against her silhouette. She and the boy stood amongst the trees, her body leaning toward the young man who had fallen on his knees before her. Geralt knew he would only have one chance, one opportunity to kill this creature of the night. Confirming it was a Bruxa he took the vial of Black blood from his small bag hoping this would not be how he would kill the monster.  Wanting to cover all his options he swallowed the foul concoction. As he crept closer, he could hear her gentle coaxing, her lullaby of song that held the young man transfixed. Sword in hand he stepped into the clearing and took aim.

The blade connected with the flesh of the creature causing her to scream. The sonic sound echoed through the quiet night. A piercing wave reverberating within his head, causing Geralt to drop his sword, and hold his hands over his ears. The beautiful woman who had been standing in front of the young man now turned into a hideous black bat-like creature. Its hands becoming talons apart from the one which had been removed by the Witcher's first blow. Regaining some equilibrium Geralt dove for his sword as the creature turned from the Man towards its assailant. Grabbing his sword Geralt turned and took another precise swing, slashing the torso of the Bruxa. She screamed again causing Geralt to fall to his knees the sound almost piercing his eardrums this time. He just needed to get close enough to stab her through the chest Geralt thought, as the Bruxa jumped on him trying to tear his armour with its good talon. Reaching for his sword Geralt realised it was too far away. He struggled with the Bruxa trying to gain control as the creature looked like it was going for his neck.

Julia sat up in bed in a sweat, she had seen in her dream Geralt fighting with a dark creature. It had him pinned on the ground ready to strike. Ciri also sat up sensing Julia in distress and having also had a bad dream about Geralt. Panting Julia shared her dream, Ciri with surprise confirmed she had also dreamt the same. Julia trying to think what this could mean said "Ciri, we can't do much from here, but will you pray with me. It is all we can do for him" tears running down her cheeks Ciri nodded to Julia and together they held hands. Shutting her eyes Julia spoke with urgency "Unnamed God, we urgently seek your help, please send your angels to assist Geralt. Send them to his aid. We ask for his deliverance from this dark creature" as she spoke Ciri turned to her, her eyes turning a strange colour and she spoke with a different voice. "I hear you, child, do not fear" at that Ciri fainted into Julia's arms.

Geralt was desperate to get his sword or to loosen his hand enough to get his small dagger from its hidden place in his armour. When he thought all was lost and the creature was going to rip into his neck it looked up. Screamed at something in the trees, whatever had distracted the creature it gave him the advantage. He was able to get his silver dagger and plunge it into the Bruxa's chest. Hearing a final scream from the dark creature it fell to its side no breath left in its lungs.

Geralt assessed his wounds. The creature's talons had connected with his skin on his leg and the side of his neck. However, nothing that would not heal. He looked around and found the young man curled up in a ball hidden behind a tree. Kneeling down he spoke softly and with kindness  "its ok, the creature is no more." Placing a hand on the young man's shoulders he turned and looked up. Fear emanated from his eyes. "Come", helping the young man up the two of them walked back to the creature. Geralt needing to complete the job got some matches out from his bag and lit the creature alight. Looking around he saw the talon laying on the ground collecting it as proof he and the young man headed back to the Village.

Nial and Anna met him at the door to their cottage, seeing the young man Anna took him inside to warm him up. Nial saw the talon in Geralt's hand and uncharacteristically started to cry. Not sure what to do with the emotions of the man Geralt dropped the talon and awkwardly believing this is what Julia would have done, gave the man a side hug. He comforted Nial until the man had stopped his weeping, and drew him into the house.

The following day Geralt was taken by Nial to meet the alderman of the town. He was a burly man with a full mop of curly hair hidden under a funny tall hat. He greeted Geralt with a warm handshake and a big smile "Thank you Witcher for riding us of this terrible creature. Here is 3,000 Oren as thanks for your work" Geralt went to refuse payment as Julia had said they didn't need it. However, at the last moment, he had a thought, Geralt took the bag with thanks and turning to Nial said "Do you have a jeweler in town?" a smile crossing his face.

By lunchtime, Geralt had visited the local Jeweler and found exactly what he wanted. With the rest of the Oren, he bought provisions for the way home. With what was left he went to give it to Nial as a blessing to his family. Nial's face burned "no I can't take this Geralt, that's for your family." Geralt knowing this is what Julia would have wanted him to do put the bag in Nial's hand. "Please take it as a blessing from my house to yours" at this Anna gave Geralt a hug. They waved him and Rose off as he began his journey home, home to his family.   

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[benkouji726]

Written for alexweek2020. Sequel to “Settled”, but can also be read as one-off. ...I think.

Anyways, “Settled” is based on meet ugly prompt 2: I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless.

Spoiler alert: they ended up living together! And none of them are aliens! Jesse died in the previous work, so all is well...ish.

Home can be a person

They’d been living together for a month now, and Alex still knew nothing about Michael Guerin.

OK that wasn’t entirely true. He knew plenty. Because one, he was a military man, his livelihood depended on his observation skills. And two, their schedules somehow synced perfectly, and after a week of awkwardly bumping each other in the kitchen and waiting turns to use the bathroom, it was simply easier if they just worked out a systematic plan to build their lives around each other, which led to divided chores, respected bathroom routines and shared meals. And when two men spent that much time together, they had no choice but to have conversations, which were really not that hard, because they clicked like magnets and they actually enjoyed spending time together.

So Alex knew plenty. Both from his observations and their conversations. But it was not like Guerin volunteered personal informations, and even he did, it was always surface stuff, so it didn’t really count. Like he knew Guerin was a mechanic, who was really good at his job. So good that he even opened his own auto shop the second year into the business. And based on what Alex saw, money was not exactly an issue for him. Which frankly didn’t match up with his squatting life style, not to mention he owned a perfectly functional airstream, but that topic was always brushed aside.

Alex also knew Guerin had two siblings, who moved away a year ago. They were both married, and apparently lived nearly enough that they did a weekly get together. Guerin would join them via FaceTime, they would laugh and talk, and Guerin seemed so happy when they did this, which did not explain why he was always a little sad when they were done. But again, not to be talked about.

Sometimes Alex would be impressed by Guerin’s topic changing skills. Granted, his go-to move was more often than not flirtation, but it worked like a charm on Alex, so whatever got the job done, right? And rationally, Alex knew he should be grateful, because Guerin was a surprisingly pleasant roommate. He was good company, he wasn’t nosy, he did VERY good repair work around the house, his cooking skills were better than Alex’s, and he slowly became the reason why Alex was looking forward to going back home after a day’s work. And truth be told, Alex wasn’t exactly an open book himself, so he should just respect Guerin’s boundaries and enjoy their easygoing companionship.

But he just couldn’t.

34 days into their co-living arrangement, Guerin came home, visibly upset. It was Alex’s day to make dinner. So he ignored Guerin at first to finish the lasagna. But when he was putting together a cob salad, he heard Guerin throw his tool box on to the floor, and caused a loud clang.

Guerin NEVER threw his tool box.

“What’s got into you today?” OK that was a little harsh. But in his defense, Alex was kind of tired of asking “are you ok” at that point, because he always got a “just dandy” and a too-big-to-be-genuine smile in reply.

Guerin shut down immediately, threw on a well-practiced smirk, and said: “Nothing. Unless you are up for the job?”

And just like that, Alex snapped.

He got up, got his keys, and left the house.

It was when he sat in his car, had no idea where he’d go, he realized that he didn’t even bring his wallet and phone, which was just stupid.

The whole thing was stupid.

He knew he had no right to feel angry and hurt. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Guerin didn’t owe him anything.

But he had felt their connection the first time they’d met, and it was there ever since. He thought Guerin felt it too.

Apparently he was wrong.

He came back two hours later, because he needed that time to work out an apology and also to learn not to be this naive again. When he got home, Guerin was sitting at the kitchen table, seemingly lost in his thoughts, lasagna in front of him, cold and forgotten.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, it was really none of my busi...” He began but was cut by Guerin mid-sentence.

“I didn’t eat”.

“...OK? Were u not hungry or was the lasagna that bad?”

Guerin looked up at him then. His eyes big, voice raw.

“I didn’t eat because it felt wrong.”

He looked back down at the lasagna.

“After you left, I was angry at first. Because fuck you, you know? I don’t owe you anything.”

“Yes, Guerin, I know, I was trying to apologize...”

Guerin continued as if not heard him at all.

“And then I got up to help me some food, man’s gotta eat, and frankly, lasagna is like, the only food you can make right. So I got myself a plate, and I sat down. Normally at that point, you would begin to nag me about eating some salad or drinking some water first, but then I looked up, and you were just, not there.”

He looked up again. All open and bare.

“So yeah, maybe it was not your business, but it was also wrong of me to assume I didn’t want it to be.”

They stared at each other. Both at lost what to say next. Eventually, Alex sat across the table, reached out, and squeezed Guerin’s hand.

“You reheat the lasagna, I’ll finish making the salad. And we’ll eat. OK? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, you didn’t even bring your wallet. I mean, dramatic much?”

“Shut up, Guerin.”

They didn’t talk about why Guerin was upset that night, but it was OK.

—————————

Things got better after that. They talked now, not just making conversation. Alex learned that Guerin had been in the system for a long time. His siblings, Max and Isobel, were actually not related to him. They had been just best friends in group homes, until they were adopted by the Evans, while Guerin went through many terrible foster families. They were united at the age of 15, when Guerin’s new foster home brought him to Roswell, and they had been inseparable ever since.

“That was, until Max decided to marry someone in LA, and moved there. And then Isobel’s husband also got a job in LA, they moved soon after. So it was just the same old me, again.”

They were at the fire pit in front of Guerin’s airstream, which he still wasn’t using, except sometimes he would go in there and do God knows what, they still didn’t reach the subject why he had been squatting yet. Alex suspected it had something to do with his issues with his siblings moving away, like the bitterness in his voice now had.

“Well, you’re literally sitting next to me now, so not exactly the same, you know?”

Guerin startled, and looked over at Alex with something like hope mixed with fear in his eyes. Alex stared right back, because at this point, he really wasn’t interested in pretending that they didn’t mean something to each other. And he hoped Guerin would drop the “I’m a lone wolf and I don’t care” act too, at least when he was with him.

Whatever Guerin saw on his face, seemed to satisfy him. He smiled, the kind of smile that reached his heart and soul, and said,

“You trying to hold my hand now, private?”

And they did.

—————————

Alex woke up in screaming. Next thing he knew, he was in Guerin’s arms.

He didn’t remember the dream. But he could easily guess the content. It was always the same. Bomb, blood, cries, he looked down, his leg was gone. Sometimes his father was there, sometimes he wasn’t. Either way, he felt his presence.

Normally, after he woke up from such a dream, he would do some breath exercise, get up, get some water, and didn’t even try to sleep again. But tonight, Guerin was right there, humming something like a lullaby, and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn’t say anything, or ask how he was doing, just held him and gently rocked him.

At some point, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour later, they lied down, together on Alex’s bed. Guerin’s hand slowly reached down, until he touched his stump. He rubbed it once, twice, and then he just stayed there.

Alex fell sleep.

——————————

Friday movie nights became some sort of tradition between them. They would finish their work, meet at the house, grab something to eat, and then drive to the drive-in theatre. Alex liked those nights, hell, he cherished those nights.

So he was very irritated when some shitty client just didn’t know what it meant to demand something WITHIN REASON, and he had to cancel their movie night via a short text. He was even more irritated when said client walked out in the last minute, so his previous work was totally wasted. Plus his new prosthetic was giving him trouble all day. Safe to say he was not in the greatest mood.

When he got home though, he was met by Guerin’s soft smile and homemade dinner. By the time they finished eating, he felt more or less like human again. Then Guerin gave him a dessert, told him to rest a bit on the sofa, and disappeared in the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he pulled Alex into the bathroom, where he already drew a bath for Alex.

He even lit some candles.

All of a sudden, Alex wanted to cry, except he hadn’t cried in ten years.

So he let out a shaky breath, buried himself in Guerin’s arms, and asked a stupid question.

“Why did you do all this?”

Guerin held him, shifted somewhat awkwardly, and said in a quiet voice.

“You spelled ‘bail’ wrong.”

Of all the answers, THAT was not what Alex expected.

“What?”

“Your text. I guess you meant to say you had to bail on our movie night. But you spelled it ‘ball’. Auto correct or something. And you never spelled wrong. So I figured, you must be exhausted.”

At that, Alex just HAD to kiss him.

—————————

They visited Greg together on a Saturday morning.

At the drive home, Alex was awfully quiet.

Michael didn’t ask. He made coffee. He fetched a blanket. He sat beside Alex on the sofa, and began to read his monthly mechanic magazine.

Alex talked before he decided he wanted to.

“My father was a piece of shit. And out of my three brothers, Greg is the only decent one. But when we were kids, he didn’t know how to protect me or stand up for me, when my father beat the shit out of me.”

Michael dropped his magazine, and silently held his hand. And Alex decided he wanted to keep talking.

“I wanted to make music. He sent me to war. Frankly, war wasn’t even a worse choice than my so called home. It just wasn’t a better choice either.”

“I never felt I belong anywhere, not at home. Not at war. I bought the house because Greg asked me to, because he was the only one who reminded me a shred of the ‘home’ concept. But today, seeing him with his family, I realized, he is my family, but he is not home.”

“I still don’t belong.”

He hadn’t cried for ten years. He didn’t want to begin now.

Expect the hands wiping his tears were so gentle, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I was offered a great job opportunity in New York, when I finished my study at UNM. But four years apart from Max and Isobel were tough enough that I decided to ditch that and move back.”

“I never felt I belonged, too, what with the fucked up system and shitty foster homes, except when I was with them. So I clung to them, a little bit desperately. When they moved away, I felt betrayed, left out and abandoned. I didn’t want to live in my airstream anymore because it felt like a fantasy I built, just to fool myself into thinking I could have followed them anywhere in it, because they were my harbor. But then they were gone, so I decided I wasn’t supposed to settle in anywhere, and that’s when I began to squat in people’s not lived in houses. Because they are just like me, you know, abandoned.”

“Until you invited me to live with you.”

They held each other a long time after that.

—————————

The email came on a Wednesday morning, and Michael was on the plane that very night to LA, because Liz was going into labor and Michael would become an uncle.

He asked Alex to come with him, but he was caught up at work so he just couldn’t make it.

They called each other every day though, Michael showed him so many baby pictures he even dreamed about it one night. He was vibrating joyful energy and Alex was happy for him.

Then on the fourth night since he was gone, he called Alex, hesitation evident in his voice.

“Liz pulled some strings at her university. And they offered me a job here.” He said, without so much as a hello.

Alex felt the world shook for a moment. Then he blinked, and the house seemed the same, intact, but somehow much quieter, and larger.

“I’m happy for you.”

An exhale.

“You are happy for me.” Michael repeated, slowly.

Alex shut his eyes. He thought of all the times Michael looked at the photos of the three of them, and all the times he seemed to be lost after he ended their phone calls, and he opened his eyes again.

“They are your family.” He said simply.

Another exhale.

“Yeah, they are.”

Silence.

After three minutes of nothing else, Alex hung up.

——————————

Michael came back on Tuesday afternoon.

Alex had not been sleeping well, or eating properly, so at first he thought he might be dreaming or something.

But there he was, clearly not been sleeping well, or eating properly himself, eyes glaring with fond anger.

“You are a dumbass, you know? You’re just gonna give me up like that?”

Alex refused to back down.

“It’s not giving up. You always wanted a family, a home. I don’t wanna stand between you and your opportunity of that.”

Michael shook his head, sighed, and pulled Alex into his arms.

“You still don’t understand, do you? They are my family, true. But YOU are my home.”

And there, stood in his embrace, Alex finally understood.