#it’s like Marj isn’t even in the room

[carolmunson]

carol’s at the laundromat — and a new character appears.

The sun is spilling in just right on the silver dryers on the back wall — whir, whir, whirring their spring cleaning drawl.

“Wait, stay juuusssst like that — perfect,” Robin encourages, pulling out her Polaroid camera while you’re bent over loading in her clothes. The flash glares bright in your eyes when snaps the picture and catches it right when the camera spits it out.

“Rob, my back isn’t built to hold this pose,” you laugh, “Also, why am I doing your laundry?”

“Cause you’re so pretty and the light was hitting you perfectly,” she shrugs, snapping another picture at your annoyed face, “Maybe not in that one.”

Her camera goes back around her neck and the half finished blow pop goes back in her mouth, stretching her freckled cheek. A breeze comes in when the door opens, a whoosh of a warm breeze with the promise of a long summer kisses you both — still in jean jackets and long pants.

“That doesn’t answer my question, why am I doing your laundry?” you ask, closing the door and leaning against dryer, feeling it heat up on your back.

She shrugs, “I dunno, you scooched me away when I didn’t separate my darks from my lights.”

“Well, Rob you can’t just—”

There’s a wrap on the front windows, sharp enough to know that its rings on glass. The sweat on your back from the dryer goes cold, you don’t look up when you hear Robin squeal.

“Finally,” she calls out, bounding out the front door that stays open on its hinge, “Took you forever.”

“Sorry, had to wait for Harrington for some wheels,” his voice sends a pit into your stomach, you stay staring at your sneakers on the dirty linoleum tile.

“Where’s my guy?” Robin’s raspy voice muses.

“Over a block or two,” he laughs, “Doesn’t wanna get in trouble or some shit.”

“Whatever,” you can hear her roll her eyes, but even worse, you can hear the crunch of his boots come into the laundromat, “Let me just grab my wallet.”

You look up to see her hold her hand out for her fanny pack which is tucked into her laundry bag still in your hand. You look down and back up with a quiet, “Oh! Sorry.”

The deal takes ten seconds total, but ten seconds is long enough to make your skin crawl. The scent of his cologne mixed with leather and weed fills your nose; he’s standing too close to you and he knows that.

“What, you don’t wanna say hi?” he drawls. Your gaze slowly rises up from his boots to his jeans to his chest to his chin — that smirk, those glittering eyes.

“Do I have to?” you retort, your body numb with uncertainty.

“Heh,” he lets out, grimacing, “Guess not. Figured you —”

“Eddie Munson!” a shrill voice calls from the back room, “Eddie Munson if you’re not here to do laundry I don’t wanna see your face in my business!”

“Aww Marj, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he teases, turning around to shout back at Ol’ Marj with both hands on dramatically holding his chest, “Can’t a guy come here and launder some cash?”

“OUT!” she yells, “Before I call the chief down here!”

He sucks his teeth, shoulders rounding when he drops his hands, “Welp, see ya later Rob.”

“Bye! Tell Steve I — we — said hi!” Robin waves with her Blow Pop in her hands, the click of it on her teeth obvious when she puts it back in her mouth. A final whiff of him lingers in your nose when he whisks out of the laundromat without a second thought, disappearing down the street to Steve’s car.

“You both really gotta talk things out,” Robin tuts, pulling her sandy hair up in a bun at the back of her head with a scrunchie, “It’s like pulling teeth watching you try to be civil.”

“We broke up,” you shrug, “It’s gonna be weird.”

“I dunno,” she shrugs back, “I feel like you guys either gotta fight it out or fuck it out — whatever happened. Just…I miss my friends being altogether.”

“I know,” you sigh, defeated, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Well you better do it soon,” she mumbles, looking over the baggies in her hand, “‘Cause he owes me another dime bag.”

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

[neworleansspecial]

Summary: An instagram post Marjan makes is interpreted as a coming out post. This was not her intention.

WC: 1.6k | AO3

Warnings: Internalized Homophobia

This is quite possibly the worst outcome Marjan can think of. She posted the roller derby photos because her feed has been quite dead since the whole “cancelling of firefox” thing that happened. It’s something non-controversial, and she loves to show off her brilliant team mates in the way that she assumes most people feel about their friends. She wants the world to see these talented, confident, beautiful women the way she sees them. Marjan spent a few minutes meticulously tagging each member of the team in the photos she posted, lining up each black bar with the correct face. She figures it’s a good appreciation of these women.

What happens instead of her friends being showered in compliments is speculation Marjan could have never, ever predicted. She knows that many of her fans are gay, particularly gay young women. Young lesbians. It’s a fact that she keeps in the back of her mind for no reason at all other than to just know it. This majority, however, make themselves known in the aftermath of the photos being posted. 

Marjan reads a comment that simply states, “ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!” followed by a bunch of heart emojis and wonders what it means. One of what? She scrolls through the thousands of comments on her post and tries to make sense of them when she realizes the error she’s made. 

The team photo on the first slide was when they all went to pride together, since most of the members of the roller derby team are LGBT+ and wanted to go as a group. Marjan went as an ally, but failed to clarify this point when she posted it. The thought smacks her in the face. 

People think this post was her coming out.

And it’s too late to take it back, but Marjan deletes the post the moment she connects the dots. Her first thought is for her family, who follow her on instagram. Her mother. Her siblings. They likely already saw. Marjan can just imagine the horror in her mother’s voice over the phone, asking Marjan if it’s true. One of her little sisters is still in high school, she could get bullied if anyone thinks that she might be related to a gay person. It’s going to be a disaster. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“Marjan?”

She looks up to see Mateo peeking into the bunk room. He looks concerned. 

“Cap sent me to get you for dinner. Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” she lies, quickly putting her phone into her pocket. “Paul cooked, right? So it should be pretty good.”

Mateo easily moves on from his first question, chatting about the salad he helped make to go with dinner, and Marjan is able to just nod along to his words without really paying attention or responding. She’s in so much trouble. The last time she checked, there’s already a handful of articles about her photo. People know. It’s only a matter of time before everyone she’s ever met to know about the alleged coming out. Just thinking about it has Marjan’s eyes stinging with tears. 

By the time she sits down in her seat at the table, she can feel all their eyes on her. Being calm and collected is kind of her thing, and she feels so unbearably seen right now, in ways she’s never wanted to be. They all wait for her to speak, but once they realize she’s not going to on her own, Paul reaches across the table to take one of her hands. 

“Marjan, what’s wrong? We’re all here for you.”

She glances around at them. They could dismiss her in disgust easily. But she knows TK is gay, and everyone seems okay with it. At the very least, she knows TK won’t let them say anything too bad about the situation. 

“I posted some roller derby photos, on instagram. Um, one of them was from pride.”

Mateo’s face lights up. “That was such a cool day! It was my first time going to pride, since I wasn’t, like, out before. I can see why you’d wanna post those photos.”

“People think it was a coming out post.” She glances around the table to see neutral faces. “They think I’m gay.”

At that, TK stabs his fork particularly hard into his dinner and shoots a look at her. “And what’s wrong with being gay, Marj?”

His words get Mateo’s attention, honing in on the hurt and the concept that Marjan could be something less than accepting. Mateo’s self-discovery of bisexuality is recent, recent enough that he’s still rather insecure in his open identity. She doesn’t want him to think she cares about this sort of thing, even if she kind of does. But only when it’s her. Other people can be gay, or bi, but she knows it’s not something that’s allowed to her. Her family would be devastated.

“Is there something wrong?” Mateo asks. 

Marjan rushes to say no as Judd lowers his head and folds his hands like he’s praying. 

“It’s not that, it’s just… I…”

“Are you?” Paul asks.

Everyone’s attention snaps to him, and then to Marjan. She can almost feel the blood drain from her face as they all turn with the same look on their face, the same question. It’s all a given what they’re asking. What they want to know. She can’t handle their rejection for this. 

“Marjan,” he says gently, “it’s okay if you’re LGBT. You know that us, of all people, are going to love and support and defend you no matter what.”

Marjan stands up from the table, her chair scooting back loudly. “I need some air.”

She all but runs to the stairs, hopping down each step to get to the doors on the first floor to the cool outside air. It’s a relief against her suddenly flushed cheeks. She knows she can’t be gay. It’s not allowed. She had a fiancé for most of her life. It was always a given that she’d marry a man, one of her family’s choosing, without much of her say in the matter. Of course she could veto someone, or say they weren’t right for her, but the fact is that her husband was always going to be chosen for her. There’s been no room, no time, for her to consider any other romantic pursuits, especially with a woman.

For the very first time, Marjan allows herself to think about that. About women, and the possibility of being in a romantic relationship with a woman. In her mind’s eye, the woman is generic. Dark hair, big eyes, soft skin. There’s no face, just the imagined feeling of curves under her hands, perhaps the softness of a breast pressed to her palm. Thinking about this for the very first time as a possibility overwhelms her with its suddenness. She feels especially guilty when the imagined woman begins to take the shape of one of her friends. This isn’t right. This is perverse, an intrusion, worse than peeping. 

She feels sick to her stomach as she sinks to sit against the wall. This isn’t okay. She should’ve never posted that picture, and then people wouldn’t be saying these things about her. If they never said those things, she wouldn’t be having the most upsetting realization of her life right now either. 

Marjan isn’t sure how long she’s sitting out on the asphalt before Paul comes out and joins her, taking a seat at her side. His warm shoulder meets hers in a silent comfort for nearly five full minutes before he speaks. 

“I was already an adult when I realized,” he says to her. “I didn’t ‘always know,’ at least not in my conscious mind. It wasn’t until I was already out in the world as a firefighter that I truly realized who I was, and that was really scary. I had a long road ahead of me, with a lot of self-discovery, and I had a lot of people to tell. I was terrified.”

“How did you know?” Marjan asks. “That you really are trans?”

Paul sighs. “I didn’t. I questioned it a lot when I was first beginning my transition. For some people, they just know, and they have for a long time, but I was both certain that I was a man and worried that I was doing it for attention. It was hard. I went to therapy for a long time, to understand myself and to help me do what was best for myself. I had a lot of internalized transphobia to work through. On top of that, I had thought I was a lesbian for a long time before I realized I wasn’t, so I kind of understand what you might be going through. Questioning your gender and your sexuality are really similar in a lot of ways, but incredibly different in others. Regardless of your journey, Marjan, whether you’re straight or not, it’s going to take a lot of reflection. All of us here at the 126 have your back. If you need to listen, or talk, or just be distracted, we’re all here for you. We love you, Marj. I love you. And if you need anything, I’m here.”

She leans into his side and he puts an arm around her for the closest approximation of a hug they can manage while sitting side-by-side on the ground. Marjan knows she has a long path ahead of her of understanding her sexuality, and not just in terms of orientation. What she wants in a relationship and how to have one are things she doesn’t really understand yet, and that’s something she’s going to have to confront to move forward in her life. She’s scared of what it means for her future. She’s scared of what her family will think. She’s scared of what the world will think. But as she sits beside Paul, it is clear that there are people who are going to support her no matter what. 

With that, she may be able to learn this about herself.

[sunshinestrand-inactive]

Oh My Love, Don’t You Worry

For Maddie (@reyesstrand) - Surprise! Here is your gift for the 911 gift exchange! It was honestly such an honour to write you a fic! I hope you enjoy this, my dear! You’re incredible. 💛💛💛

Read on AO3 

***

“You should have talked me out of this.”

Marjan looks up from where she sits on the bench beside him, her phone clutched in one hand and a cup of tea in the other and she raises her eyebrow at him.

“Why on earth would I do that?” She asks after a moment, setting her phone down on the bench next to her, following his gaze to the store in front of them. A jewelry store that they had been sitting outside of for at least ten minutes. He had insisted that he needed a break, but they both knew that he was just too scared to enter it.

The two of them had had the day off and TK had invited Marjan to help him buy a very important Christmas gift. It had been his second one in Austin and he was growing more fond of his new found family with every passing day, a family that included his now boyfriend Carlos. To say he had fallen completely head over heels for the man since getting to know him further during their year together, would be an epic understatement. It was something that he had never thought he’d have the opportunity to feel again. But he was so glad the universe had given him another chance. He knew that the gift he would give Carlos this year would have to be something incredibly special and upon a conversation with Marjan, they had come to an obvious conclusion. A promise ring.

It was an easy enough endeavor, really. Except TK hadn’t stepped foot in a jewelry store since New York and the thought of Carlos reacting badly (which he was aware was highly unlikely) burned in the back of his mind, freezing his movements and prohibiting him from even stepping foot into the store. It was terrifying.

“What if it’s too soon?” TK asks, his voice low with the question.

Marjan scoffs and waves her hand at him. “You and I both know it’s not. You love him and we all know from the way he looks at you, with those heart eyes? He feels the exact same way.”

TK shakes his head, watching as another person walks out of the shop with the familiar little bag in their hand, joy clear on their faces and he can’t help but to smile. He wishes that could be him, if he could just get his damn ass off the bench and actually enter the store.

“Hey.” Marjan says, placing a gentle hand onto his arm and breaking him from his trance. “This thing you have with Carlos? It’s special. I believe that the universe brought you two together for a reason. I saw that boy when you two were first starting up, he’s in deep for you, TK.”

TK grins, mostly to himself as he listens to Marjan’s words. He knows just how special Carlos is and even more so of how special their relationship is. They were truly one of a kind.

“Maybe you’re right.” TK whispers.

“Of course I’m right.” Marjan starts, standing up from the bench and picking up the bags off the floor. She extends her hand out to him. “Now come on, TK Strand. There’s a perfect promise ring just waiting in there for you to give to Carlos and we are on a mission to find it.”

TK stares at her for a moment before looking to the entrance of the store again. He has so many thoughts swirling around in his head but he knows one thing is for sure, Carlos and his life with him. When he looks back at Marjan, he reaches up and connects his hand with hers. He realises then just how incredibly grateful he is to have Marjan as a friend. TK is sure that she would do anything for him and he is damn sure that he would do the same for her.

He stands from the bench and squeezes her hand. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Marjan shrugs, flashing a knowing smirk. “I’ve been told once or twice. I guess you are pretty cool too.” She jokes and before TK can say another word, she turns around and pulls him towards the store.

***

Fifteen minutes go by with Marjan pointing out various rings to him and he shakes his head at all of them. He is sure he’ll know it when he sees it, will feel something deep within his stomach explode. It’ll feel like a connection, he just knows it.

And just when they’re about to leave to go try another shop, it happens.

“Marj, wait.” TK says, gently grabbing her arm and halting her movements. He turns towards one of the glass cases on the wall. It’s beautiful and perfect, a silver ring with a rose gold beveled edge. It’s the exact ring he was picturing in his mind. Something from within him snaps and he swallows hard, feeling his body begin to warm and his heart beating hard against his chest.

As he points it out to the lady working behind the counter and watches her wrap it up, he begins to recognise the feeling. It’s the feeling he had felt since the first moment he had laid eyes on Carlos, the feeling he had when they first kissed. He thinks it must be what true love feels like, like total love and admiration. It’s a feeling that he knows he wants to spend forever experiencing. A feeling he would never want to lose.

“I love it.” Marjan whispers as she stands next to him, their arms interlocked. He’s reminded for the second time that day how grateful he is to have her there for support. “And more importantly, he’ll love it.”

TK smiles as he pays and the feeling grows as he grabs the bag from the counter.

“I hope so.”

***

“Thank you so much for supper, Grace, it was delicious.”

The rest of the 126 all mumble agreements, which is about all they can do after the wonderful meal they had just had. They had all gotten up from the table and then proceeded to collapse to various places around the living room. TK currently sat, snug in Carlos’ side, his boyfriend’s arm around his shoulders and his thumb stroking TK’s exposed skin.

It had become a tradition since moving to Austin, all of them going to the Ryder’s house for dinner during special occasions. It had become a haven for all of them. Here there were no bad calls, no fires, no accidents. Here only love and support existed. Here they were all safe.

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you guys enjoyed it.” Grace says as she takes a seat next to Judd on the other side of the couch. “You’re more than welcome to take any leftovers.”

It isn’t long before they all fall into comfortable conversations with one another and TK can’t help but to feel complete and utter happiness, sitting here with these people he has grown to love. They were the only other thing, besides the man sitting beside him, that made Austin worthwhile. He would never trade them for anything. They were his family.

“Hey.” TK whispers, grabbing Carlos’ attention. “Would you like to come outside with me for a second?”

Carlos smiles. “Sure.”

As if they read each other’s minds, they both rise from the couch and move to grab the respective gift bags that had been placed under the tree when they had arrived. TK grabs Carlos’ hand and begins to lead him towards the back door. Marjan gives him a reassuring smile as they pass by the couches.

The Austin air is cooler than usual as they step onto the back porch. They both walk to sit down on the porch swing and it’s quiet for a moment before TK speaks.

“I wanted to give you this, but I wanted us to be alone.” TK says before putting the bag down onto the swing between them. “Um, so yeah, I hope you like it.”

Carlos grins and eyes the bag. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“Yeah, here’s to hoping.”

Carlos picks up the bag and grabs the tissue paper out of it before reaching in and bringing out the small wrapped package. TK chews on his lip nervously as he watches Carlos carefully unwrap the paper before he is left with the small box. His heart pounds heavily against his chest as Carlos takes a brief glance at him before his gaze returns to the box. After what feels like an eternity, TK watches as he opens it. There’s silence, too much of it for TK’s liking as Carlos stares into the box, unblinking and frozen. TK’s eyebrows knit together as he stares at Carlos, and he feels a slight pang in his heart, an all too familiar feeling rising in his throat.

“Please say something.” TK urges.

“TK -”

“Wait.” TK says as he looks away, opting to look at his fumbling hands. “I already know. It was way too soon, I knew it was too soon. I’m sorry.”

There’s another moment of silence before Carlos places his hand on top of TK’s, stopping him from being able to move them and he feels as the nervous energy builds up without the physical escape he has grown so accustomed to.

“TK, sweetheart, look at me please.”

TK shakes his head, tears pricking his eyes as he raises his gaze to level with Carlos’. There’s always so much warmth in Carlos’ eyes that TK finds he never wants to lose. There’s a smile on his face and TK thinks that must be a good thing.

“TK, I love you so much, you know that.” Carlos starts and TK nods. He does know. “The time we’ve had with each other is something that I would never trade for anything. It’s something I will always fight for, cross oceans for. Got it?”

TK nods again.

“Good. Now before we go any further,” He reaches beside him to grab the small bag that he had been carrying and passes it to TK. “I need you to open this.”

TK stares at him for a moment before he is opening it with shaking hands and in only a few seconds he is staring down at an extremely familiar box. He continues the process, opening the box and he’s suddenly completely aware of the situation. Staring back at him from the little box is the same ring that TK had just given to Carlos, identical except for instead of silver, TK’s was black with rose gold. He swallows hard, a whole new wave of emotion washes over him, new tears begin forming in his eyes.

“Now do you think it’s too soon?” Carlos asks, his voice unbearably soft.

TK feels a chuckle bubble up in his throat and he shakes his head, the first few tears dropping from his eyes and into his lap as he stares down at the ring. “No, not really.”

“I told you you had nothing to worry about.” Carlos says, bumping his shoulder against TK’s. “I also told you that I love you and I meant it. This is just another very small way of me showing you how much I do. I want forever with you, whenever we’re ready but I want to make that promise to you right here and right now.”

“Hey, you stole my speech,” TK jokes before he raises his hand and places it against Carlos’ cheek. “I love you, Carlos Reyes and I promise to give you everything.”

Carlos smiles, one so full of sunshine and love that TK can barely handle it and they both take their respective rings and put them on. A promise made to each other, forever engraved on this very night. TK takes a deep breath, half out of relief and half out of happiness.

It only takes a few minutes before they are interrupted.  

“Everything alright out here, you two?”

Both of them turn to look towards where Grace is leaning out of the door with Marjan behind her. Both women have knowing looks on their faces and TK shakes his head. He should have known, Marjan had been his partner in all of this and Grace had been Carlos’.

“You’ll never guess.” Carlos says and he and TK both raise their hands to show the respective rings off. Grace and Marjan exchange a look and suddenly everything falls into place in their minds as well. “I guess great minds think alike.”

“Wow, that is —” Grace starts.

“So nauseatingly romantic.” Marjan finishes before throwing TK a look that was drenched in the words I told you so. TK almost sticks his tongue out at her.

“Well, we will just leave you to it. There’s hot chocolate in here whenever you two are ready.” Grace says before she is disappearing and then a beat later, Marjan is gone also and the night is quiet around them once again.

“What do you say?” Carlos says gently. “Want to go join everyone else?”

TK hums as he leans into Carlos’ side and shakes his head. “In a minute. I just want to be with you for a little while.”

“That works for me.”

Carlos puts his arm around TK, pulling him close to his body and TK settles his head onto Carlos, his boyfriend’s warmth flooding into him. TK stares down at their connected hands, the rings side by side and he knows, he just knows — this is exactly what love feels like.

[tarlosprompts]

Self-Destruct

Person A: “Why me?”

Person B: “What?”

Person A: “You could have had anyone, so why me?”

Person B: “.....Because you’re the only one I want, you always have been.... Is that really so hard to believe?”

Warnings: past drug addiction, past overdose, drug house, high teens, mild violence

Also, some of my information my not be correct in the drug world, so sorry.

Shout out to @write-it-motherfuckers​ for the prompt, I saw it when scrolling through my feed.

-Red💋

Part 2

TK Strand loved his job. He loved his job and the people he got to work with. Hell, he’d met the love of his life through his job. Officer Carlos Reyes. The Latino man was perfect in every way and TK was quite sure he didn’t deserve him most days...okay, so all of the time, but he wouldn’t be admitting that any time soon.

That’s why TK was in this funk and had been for the past few days. Thankfully Carlos and he had opposing shifts meaning that he hadn’t had to confront the man in this sour mood. Bad news, his crew had to deal with him. His father was giving him space, but he was pretty sure that if he kept up with his attitude, his dad would pull him aside to have a chat and TK definitely didn’t want that. Judd had tried to talk to him a couple of hours into the shift on his third day of being in the funk.

To say he’d bitten Judd’s head off would be an understatement. TK felt horrible about it. Judd cared about him, and he’d thrown it back in his face. This was further proof that he was undeserving of not only Carlos, but everyone around him. He fucked everything up constantly. 

Mateo and Marjan had both tried to talk to him subtly about his funk, but TK was having none of that. At the last minute, TK had been able to bite his tongue and walk away so as to not tear his teammates apart. The look on his face must have portrayed his annoyance and funk because none of the other firefighters approached him. He’d even caught a few going out of their way to stay as far away from him as possible.

The only person he could stand to be around at this point was Buttercup, the damn dog he said he wouldn’t let in because he wouldn’t be able to handle losing the dog to the same sickness his father had. He told Buttercup everything, muttered it into the brown fur, shed a couple of tears and locked it up again.

TK shook his hands out as the alarm blared. He was utterly professional on calls. He wouldn’t let his troubles fuck up someone else’s life. The ride to the call was quiet other than the rattling of the truck.

Upon arriving at the scene, TK felt his stomach drop as he got a good look at the people surrounding the house. He felt his lips form a thin line as his dad talked to the police Sergeant in charge of the scene. As Owen made it back over, TK could see the pinch at his eyes. “Drug bust gone wrong. This was half a stash house, half hideout for people to get high. Multiple injuries inside and outside. We were called to extract a couple of teens who fell through the floor near the back of the house.”

TK didn’t wait for a command, going over to the truck to grab harnesses that would be used to lower him and someone else down to get the two teens. As he began to harness up, a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up to see his dad giving him a look he knew too well. It was the look that said that he didn’t want to bring up his addiction but he was worried. “TK-”

“I can do my job. Just because this was a house full of junkies and I used to be one doesn’t mean I’m going to go home and relapse. You can’t keep me from doing my job every time it hits a little too close for home,” TK growled, shoving the second harness to Marjan. “This is the one part of the job I’m good at, rescuing people who got in over their head. So can you not act like a concerned father and act like a Captain who knows who on his team is best suited for what?”

“As your Captain, I should even have let you out of the firehouse with the way you’ve been acting today,” Owen’s eyes narrowed.

“Well you did, so at least let me do something I’m good at.”

____________

Before long, TK and Marjan were being lowered into the hole made by the teenagers falling through the floor. They hadn’t been able to talk with the teens, so each were paired with a dose of Narcan in case the teens had overdosed after the floor collapsed. 

TK and Marjan scanned their flashlights around the room slowly. “Fire Department! Call out so we know where you are,” TK called. Hearing something to his right, he turned just in time to have something collide with his head. “Fuck...Marj?”

“I don’t see them. They just disappeared in the dark. Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” he grumbled as he stood, eyes darting through the shadows. That answered a few questions on what the kids could have taken. Whatever it was, was probably causing hallucinations. The lashing out is because they were scared of whatever they were seeing due to the drug. “They’re not trying to hurt us. They’re scared,” he called. 

“But we’re trying to help them,” Marjan stated.

“Yes, but the drug isn’t letting them understand that. All they know is that they fell through the floor and are probably in pain. Whatever they took probably has hallucinogenic properties which is why they’re lashing out...because they want to protect themselves. One of them is probably too hurt to move which is fueling the hallucination and their need to protect.”

“What’s going on down there,” their radios crackled.

TK heard Marjan respond, but he was too focused on the pipe coming straight towards his face. He barely got his hands up before the pipe hit him. He grunted, grabbing hold of the pipe and yanking it towards him. A shaggy brunette just a couple of inches taller than him staggered forward. “You won’t hurt him,” he growled.

“I don’t want to hurt your friend. I want to help,” he had to get a read on how strung out the kid was. As the kid continued to fight against him, TK’s answer was clear. Too strung out to reason with. “Marj, be careful, but look for the other teen. I’ve got this one.”

“You sure?”

“Marjan,” he shouted, getting her into motion.

Taking a punch to the face, TK muttered to himself as he stumbled back. He caught the next punch, returning the favor with one of his own while simultaneously taking the teen to his knees. He used the momentum to push the kid to the ground and put his body weight to use trying to keep the guy down. He got an elbow to the jaw for his troubles, immediately feeling blood start to enter his mouth from the split lip the elbow caused.

As much as TK wanted to ram the kid’s head into the cement below them, he refrained. This was just a strung out kid, he didn’t know what he was doing. He kept the mantra ‘this is just a kid’ even as the kid brought his head back to headbutt him. 

A couple of minutes later had Marjan returning with the injured teen and TK sitting beside an unconscious teen. She rose an eyebrow at him and he glared. “There was no reasoning with him. I thought he’d stop after the first couple of times I hit him, but he kept going.”

He stood, holding on tightly to the unconscious teen as Marjan radioed the team that they were ready to come topside. The looks he got from the three remaining team members further soured his mood. He rolled his eyes as Michelle took the teen from him. “You got all of that,” Judd pointed to his face, “from that green bean?”

TK felt his eye twitch, but he bit his tongue, turning around and stalking out of the house. He ignored the look on his dad’s face as he passed him. The ride back to the station was even quieter than the ride to the house. He couldn’t wait to get a shower to wash off the aches, blood, and memories. 

Before TK could run off to the showers, he was stopped by his dad. “TK, a word?”

“Can I shower first?”

Owen’s face said that it wasn’t an option. TK felt the nervous energy that coated his body. He needed a shower or he was going to explode and really fuck everything up. “I need a shower then we can talk,” TK’s voice shook with the strain of keeping the memories from overtaking him. The memories of the times he was in a hideout with his friends getting higher than the sun. Memories of being too doped out of his mind to stop his friend from overdosing. Memories of the highs.

“Your behavior for the past few days has been unacceptable, TK. We need to talk now.”

Something snapped, and it all came tumbling out. Everything he wanted to keep hidden from his dad and team...from Carlos. “From the way I’ve been acting I should have been fired days ago,” he shouted, turning away from his team. “Every time I think I have something-every time I think I’m going to be good or my life is good I go and I fuck it up! First it was with drugs, I started using and hasn’t that fucked me up enough,” he laughed, beginning to pace.

“And-And every time I think I have myself together, you all just walk on eggshells around me. Ever since I told you about my addiction, you walk on eggshells and Dad, you’ve done that since you found out about my addiction! It drives me mad because I’m not some breakable teen who will relapse at the wrong word out of your mouths! And to hell if I don’t think about using every once in a while, but I never do anything about it because I’m doing so good. And then I’m not doing good and I’m wondering how any of you can see me-how any of you can like this,” he motioned to himself, “to me.”

“Every time something good comes into my life, it gets taken away and I’m just waiting for this to slip from my grip too. I loved a man, was willing to give my all to him, was willing to marry him and the night I wanted to propose to him, he told me he was in love with someone else and had been cheating on me for months. He slipped through my fingers and I fucking relapsed like a child and I died on you,” he looked at Owen, but he turned back to his pacing just as quickly as he’d stopped.

“I didn’t like the firehouse in New York. We weren’t a family, not like this. I wasn’t scared of losing them. I’m scared of losing all of you. I’m afraid of fucking up so badly that I lose all of you and I can’t stop fucking thinking about it. And that makes me wonder how anyone can be happy with me around. How can anyone love me the way I love them? How can someone love a fuck up like me? A former junkie? An addict? Someone who has to struggle every day with his addiction because he was stupid enough to get addicted to drugs. I don’t deserve any of you and you all deserve so much better,” his voice was quiet as he finished his rant. He ran a hand down his face, scrubbing the tears that had fallen. “I really need that shower.”

____________

TK had skipped the shower. He’d snuck out through the back and started to walk home. He’d spilled all of his thoughts just because a call had brought up a few bad memories. He wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have a job to come back to come tomorrow. 

TK didn’t know where he was going. He only had one thought, and that was to get out of his head. He couldn’t take it anymore. The more he thought about how he’d screwed up, the more he thinks of his fuck ups, the more he gets that itch to use. He fucking refused to relapse. 

That’s how TK found himself staring at the door in front of him. The Camero in front suggested that Carlos was home. Before he knew it, he was knocking. He bit his lip, starting to back away from the door as it began to open. Before he could turn tail and run, Carlos was calling his name. “Tyler? Aren’t you supposed to be on shift?”

TK slowly turned around, noticing how Carlos’s eyes trailed over his face and how his frown deepened. Carlos gently pulled TK into the house, sitting him on the couch before going to retrieve the first aid kit. He returned in a matter of seconds, crouching in front of TK and starting to clean up his wounds. The look in TK’s eyes scared him, if he was being honest. 

They didn’t talk as Carlos cleaned up the blood from the split lip. But as Carlos began to stand up and go to put the kit back up, TK spoke. “Why me,” his voice was so quiet, Carlos almost thought he imagined his voice.

The way TK pointedly didn’t look at him was all the proof Carlos needed to know that TK had spoken. “What do you mean?”

“You could have had anyone, why me?”

Carlos was back to crouching in front of TK, trying to get him to meet his eyes. Finally, he placed his hands on either side of TK’s face, making him look at him. “Because you’re the one I want, Tyler, you always have been.” He bit his lip as he saw the look of doubt in TK’s eyes. “Is that really so hard to believe, Tyler Kennedy? I love you so much it hurts. I want to have everything with you because I love you. If it takes me the rest of my life trying to prove it to you, I will. You mean everything to me. Mi Mundo, mi sol, I love you and I always will.”

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Underneath

Summary: During the rescue of Bennett (1.09) Marjan gets trapped. (911 Lone Star Bad Things Happen Bingo: Trapped and Call Gone Wrong)

Warnings: suffocation, injury

WC: 2370 / Also Available on AO3 

It was supposed to be fine.

Marjan just had to help free the adventurous father from the cave, and then something collapsed, the rope went slack, and she realized she might not have a lot of air down here. Sure, it’s been frightening since she first began her descent into the cave, ears popping painfully at the pressure, but she didn’t realize it would end up like this.

“Marwani, come in,” Her radio crackles, Judd’s voice sounding just a little too panicked. “Our rope got real tight all of a sudden. What happened?”

She looks above her, where the turn of the tunnel is completely blocked off. She can’t reach it without climbing upward again, and doing that could set everything off again because she doesn’t have any equipment for this. Trying to dig her way out is far too risky. The reckless spelunker asks her what happened, his voice quiet and breathy. He won’t last much longer, and she doesn’t know if she’ll make it too long either. Already the air has started to turn stuffy.

“There was a cave-in, over.”

For a moment, her radio is quiet. Then, Judd says, “Where and how bad?”

“It’s a few feet above me and toward the opening of the tunnel. I can’t reach it without climbing back up, and it’s really unstable. I don’t think I can dig my way out without risking a secondary collapse. Over.”

Saying the over isn’t important right now, or at least it doesn’t feel like it. Judd certainly doesn’t care anymore. But if she does it, then she can pretend this isn’t an emergency, and she’ll be fine. They’ll be able to rescue her, and before she knows it, she’ll be back above ground where it’s safe. Bennett, the father trapped beside her, has stopped moving, and doesn’t respond when she calls his name.

“How’s the air flow? Do you think you can stay there while we wait for another crew? Mateo’s the only one who can fit down there.”

She looks up at the ceiling. The air down here doesn’t feel like it’s moving anymore, and she isn’t sure if she’s imagining it.

“I don’t think there’s any air flow where I am. Bennett is unresponsive, and his upper body is in a different pocket than mine. I think I have… maybe an hour of air, if I’m careful. Over.”

Bennett’s leg twitches. 

“I’m sending help down now, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here. Getting a hole in there big enough to free you might take a while, so I’ll send down an oxygen tank too. Should give you a little more time. Hang in there, Marj. We’re coming.”

-

Michelle is trained for a lot of things, but this isn’t one of them. She’s a paramedic. She is absolutely not a firefighter. But between everyone on sight, Mateo, Nancy, and herself are the only ones who can fit down there, and they need all the hands they can get. Nancy gets a harness for Marjan to bring her back up if need be, she carries an oxygen tank and their rope lead, and Mateo holds onto a shovel and the jaws of life. Without the room or accessibility for the motor, it’ll take all three of them to pry the rock open.

She’s willing to do whatever it takes to get Marjan out of there, safe and sound, especially given the way Judd told them upon arrival how many people get trapped down here and are never rescued. They have to have hope, or else the whole job becomes that much harder. Mateo turns his radio on and tells her that no matter what, all their radios need to be ready to speak. Just in case. 

“Be safe,” Judd yells after them as they make their way past the mouth of the cave. 

The anchor points left behind from trying to rescue Bennett before the collapse help direct them. As they walk, no one speaks. The situation is far too tense, and Marjan needs to conserve the air she has left wherever she’s trapped. According to Mateo, it’ll take them around half an hour to reach her, maybe less if they’re quick.

Michelle is afraid to be quick. She doesn’t want to trigger another collapse, sealing them in or making another barrier before they can reach Marjan. She steps in the same place as Mateo in front of her each time, so she doesn’t kick a rock, and by the sound of it, Nancy does as well. Neither of them really feel safe in here, and they’re not as trained to push the fear down. They just have to push it down, the way Mateo is, even if his face seems damp with more than sweat as they make their way through the maze.

“I think Bennett is dead,” Marjan says on the radio. “I can’t get a pulse on any part of his lower body. And it’s official that there’s no air flow in here. It’s getting hard to breathe. Over.”

Judd responds by asking Mateo for their ETA.

“About ten minutes,” he says, touching his gloved hand to an anchor point on the old rope. “I don’t know how long it’ll take us to get through the collapse though.”

His response is followed by a crashing noise and an audible, if faint scream from further down the tunnel. All three of them freeze. Michelle grabs for her radio and clicks the speak button on. “Marjan, what happened? Over.”

“Secondary collapse. Some- some of the debris fell on me. I think it broke my leg. Over.”

“Okay, just take a deep breath. You’re breathing really fast, and you need to be careful with your air.”

Now she has to focus on first aid over the radio as she continues to make her way deeper into the cave, her ears popping in protest. 

“Is it a compound fracture? Is the bone coming out of the skin?”

“I don’t think so, over.”

“Can you move whatever fell on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Are you bleeding at all Marjan?”

They make it another few feet in silence. Thirty seconds tick by, and Michelle’s chest hurts at the sudden lack of communication. She needs to know if Marjan is okay. 

“You still there?”

“Sorry. Getting kinda dizzy.”

Mateo suddenly stops and holds up his hand. They’ve reached the collapse. The rocks are all tightly packed, and pulling the wrong one could be disastrous. Michelle’s heart is beating too fast, but she just presses her palm lightly against the rubble. 

“Can you hear us, honey?” she asks.

After a moment, she hears Marjan groan. She’s still alive. Nancy ties off their rope lead and harness, and pulls on the gloves Mateo hands her to protect her palms from the jagged rock. Michelle takes a pair too, and wait for his instruction on what to do.

“Chavez to Ryder,” he says before they touch anything. “We’re at the collapse now. Marjan is still alive, but she’s injured and running out of air. Any idea how much time we have left? Over.”

“She said an hour of air, you’ve been down about forty minutes. You have maybe twenty left to at least get her some more oxygen.”

At that, Mateo starts working. He says to lightly run their hands over the debris to find out what’s loose and structurally safe to remove, at first. Just thinning the rock out helps. Michelle’s hands are shaking pretty badly as she does it. At first, just little pebbles and shards come, but then they’re left with larger rocks lodged into the wall. This is where things will get dangerous. This wall could be holding up the tunnel. It could collapse backward and fall on Marjan, burying her delicate body beneath it. Already, there’s been one secondary collapse that’s hurt her badly enough. There’s no telling what another could do to her.

“Marjan,” Mateo calls, beginning to open the case holding the jaws of life. “We’re going to pry open the wall. If you can, I need you to move as far away from the collapse as possible and brace yourself. Do you have your helmet on?”

There’s no response.

“Marjan, I need you to put on your helmet and get back,” he repeats, a little louder, a little more frantic. “Marjan!”

Michelle clicks her radio on. “Captain Blake to Ryder. Marjan is no longer responding to us.” She takes a deep breath. “Continue with search and rescue, or retreat? Over.”

“Do you have any reason to believe she is dead as opposed to unconscious?”

“No way for us to tell right now, over.”

“You’re already there. Proceed with the rescue.”

She helps grab one of the levers on the jaws, Nancy helping her, while Mateo holds the other. As opposed to up and down, they have them set up sideways, which should allow them to clear out a small enough window to at least see how Marjan is doing, and get some air to her.

When they manage to open it up a bit and start digging out rocks, Mateo takes off his gloves. Michelle tells him not to, but he doesn’t even seem to hear her. It’s easier to get a grip on the smaller pieces like that, even if she watches cuts appear on his palms until there’s a small enough window to peer through. Marjan isn’t visible, but they can see the slight glow from further down, probably from her head lamp. They’ve found her.

“I’m small enough to get through that gap,” Michelle says. “Send me through and I’ll get the oxygen to her, bring her closer. Then we can go from both sides to try and get a bigger opening.”

“That’s a bad idea,” Nancy says.

Mateo shrugs, as though it’s up to her.

She pushes the oxygen tank through the gap first, and then clears away some larger fragments to make it easier to squeeze through. There’s a few ominous cracks, but she’s still able to do it. The thin polyester of her uniform is finally good for something. It takes almost a full minute to get through, and she’s left with scrapes all over her body, but finally, she’s on the other side. She picks up the tank and finds the area where the tunnel takes a sharp turn downward, and Marjan is visible at the bottom beside Bennett’s legs. She’s so very still, with smears of blood around her body and covered with rocks and dust. Carefully, Michelle climbs down to her, and presses her fingers to the side of her neck.

Her pulse is weak and slow, but it’s there.

“Captain Blake to Ryder and Chavez. Marjan has a pulse. There’s some blood loss, but I can’t evaluate her injuries here. Putting her on oxygen now. I’m going to climb back up to help open the wall and get the harness. Over.”

“Michelle, you did not go down there,” Judd says. 

She doesn’t answer him, instead fixing the oxygen mask over Marjan’s mouth and nose, opening the valve, and starting the climb back up to the collapse.

When she gets there, it seems Mateo and Nancy have made some progress. Not a lot, though. They hand the harness through and she goes back down to fix it around Marjan’s limp body. Anything to get her to safety. Michelle helps them tug the rope, slowly and carefully, to pull Marjan up from the dip in the tunnel without hitting her against the wall. It’s terrifying. Especially with the added weight of the oxygen tank wedged into the harness with her. When they’re almost up, Marjan’s eyes open and she weakly struggles.

“Relax, we’ve got you,” Michelle says. “We’re pulling you up. Just stay still, okay?”

Marjan mumbles behind the mask and obeys, allowing them to finish getting her back to level with the collapse so they can keep working, knowing that she’s safe for now. Michelle starts pulling away large rocks above the jaws of life, ignoring when it causes some to fall on her gloved hands. She doesn’t have to be so careful anymore, and she doesn’t want to be either. She just wants to get Marjan back up to the surface. 

“Careful,” Mateo says, and removes the jaws to put away. There’s a moment where they just wait to see if disaster will strike. Thankfully, it seems alright, and Michelle helps him and Mateo make a larger hole so they can climb to safety. "We'll have to carry her up ourselves," he adds as they work. "The rope we have is just a lead now, since the other one is caught, plus all the twists and turns. We'll have to carry her."

"Whatever it takes."

In just a few more minutes, they have a large enough hole to safely pull Marjan through, and Michelle follows soon after. Mateo radios the progress back to Judd. Nancy looks rather pale, arms crossed over her chest as she stares at what’s left of the site of the collapse. Michelle gets the discomfort. Her head is starting to hurt and she’s getting a little lightheaded, and she’s got the distraction of someone she cares about more than she’d like to admit in her arms to bring to safety. Mateo is a full on firefighter. 

“Go back up,” Michelle says to her softly. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Nancy nods and takes off with the equipment, following their lead, but leaving it in place for Michelle and Mateo to follow to the surface. Everything is going to be okay. Between the two of them, they lift Marjan carefully and carry her slowly along the path back. There’s so many twists and turns, narrow openings, jagged rocks that catch their clothes and skin. Michelle tries not to notice the blood on Mateo’s hands from scraping up on the rocks, now smearing on the reflectors of Marjan’s coat. 

They’re so close to the surface Michelle can almost taste it. She can see the gleam of the light reaching out toward them. Nancy and Tim are at the ready. They’re almost out, when the cave around them gives an ominous creak, a crack, a rattle, and the light is gone.

[sunshinestrand-inactive]

You’re The Only One I’ll Ever Know

For @letitialewiss - Kim, I am so blessed every day by your presence. You are so such a positive light. I am so lucky to be able to know you and that I get to call you my friend. I hope you know how truly wonderful you are. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUNFLOWER, I love you! 💛💛💛

Read on AO3

***

TK Strand was going to be the death of Carlos. 

He knew that was to be the case on his very first day at UT Austin when he stumbled into his dorm room to find TK, in all his glory waiting for him. TK was all green eyes, messy brown hair and a shining smile; the type of boy that Carlos could see himself liking. But then TK just had to open his mouth and talk. TK had been a New York implant, bitter about being forced to move to Austin with his firefighting father and had not taken kindly to his roommate being a born and raised Austin native with a police officer father. That was all it took for the rivalry to be born. It was incredibly silly, petty even, Carlos was highly aware of that. But the two had slowly grown to dislike each other because of it. 

Except that hadn’t been the truth, at least not in Carlos’ case. He had found himself growing quite fond of his roommate, despite their childish antics towards one another. He had found himself staring just a little too long at TK, or would feel himself getting the urge to lean him against the nearest wall and kiss him. But he had restrained that feeling, pushed it deep down within himself hoping one day that he would wake up and be gone forever. 

He restrained that feeling now, his pencil twirling between his fingers as he stared across the library where TK sat, deep in conversation with his best friend Marjan. It was the last day of finals week and while everyone should have been studying, he knew for a fact that they were all talking about the parties that they were going to go after.

“You’re drooling, Reyes.” 

Carlos startled, dropping his pencil and nearly falling off his chair as he snapped his gaze away from TK. He cleared his throat and looked up just as his own best friend Paul pulled out a chair to sit down next to him. He very well knew that he wasn’t in fact drooling but he couldn’t help but to bring a hand up and wipe at his mouth. Paul watched him, chuckling and shaking his head. 

“You are nauseating.” Paul said as he opened his textbook. “Seriously, it has been two years, isn't this whole thing getting a little petty? If you like the dude, why don’t you just tell him?” 

Carlos didn’t think that sounded like a good idea at all. “Because he’d probably laugh in my face and then reject me. I’m an Austin boy, remember? He doesn’t like Austin boys.” 

“He doesn’t like Austin because he was forced to move here. That was two years ago. The boy has to be over it by now. Besides I highly doubt he’d laugh at you or reject you, if he does, he’s a complete and total idiot.” 

“Awe, don’t talk about yourself like that, Paul.” Carlos felt as his body instantly tensed and heated up at the familiar voice drifting into their conversation. He slowly looked up as TK approached the table with Marjan close behind him. 

“TK, how totally unpleasant it is to see you.” Paul quipped with an icy tone to his voice. 

“Aren’t you just hilarious.” TK’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke and he pulled out a chair to sit down, close enough that Carlos could feel his breathing. “So boys, are you coming to the party tonight?” 

“Are you going to be there?” Carlos asked, making the mistake of looking at him, nearly losing his breath at the sight of TK’s incredible green eyes staring back at him. When TK nodded, Carlos shook his head. “That’ll be a hard pass then, Strand.” 

TK narrowed his eyes at him, but there was a slight hint of a smile on his lips. “What? Do you not like parties unless they are in a barn or something?” 

“Oh wow, that’s a good one, New York.” Carlos said, unable to hold back an eye roll. 

TK popped out his bottom lip into a pout and Carlos had to force himself to look away. What he would give to pull that lip between his teeth. “Aw, is that all you got? No comeback? I’m disappointed, you’re going soft. But don’t worry, I get it, you are too cool for the party.” 

“If we agree to come to the stupid party, will you please leave?” Carlos asked. 

TK pretended to think for a moment before shrugging. “Sure.” 

“Then we’ll come.” Carlos confirmed earning a look of discontent from Paul. He then proceeded to shoo TK away with his hand. “Bye now.” 

“I can’t believe how much of a joy it is to be around you, Reyes.” TK started as he stood up from his chair. “It’s no wonder you just have people flock towards you.” 

Carlos opened his mouth but TK was already turning around and walking towards the exit before he could even get a word out. It took a moment before Paul broke the silence again. 

“He is a menace, tell me again why it is you like him?” 

“I don’t.” Carlos whispered, watching as TK completely disappeared from sight. He very well knew how fake he sounded with that statement. 

“Why did you say that we would go to the party? I thought we were staying in and having a movie night tonight? Besides you hate parties.” 

Carlos shrugged one shoulder. “I know but the dude just knows how to get under my skin and I am not about to let him win.” 

“Petty.” Paul teased in a sing-song tone that made Carlos glare at him. 

“Watch it, Strickland or you’ll be the next one to have a rivalry with me.” Carlos joked as they both stood up from the table, ready to take their final exam for the semester. Carlos just wished that he didn’t have to have TK on his brain at that moment. 

“Seriously though, you should tell him.” Paul whispered as they walked alongside each other, towards the exit of the library. 

“I’m telling you that I don’t like him. I barely feel anything for the guy.” He mumbled back. But he was lying, to Paul and to himself. But he hoped that the more he had said it, the more it would become the truth. 

***

TK walked out of the exam room instantly getting met with a punch to the shoulder, light enough that it wasn’t meant to be malicious but hard enough to make a point. He rubbed at his arm as he turned to find Marjan with a smirk on her lips and arms across her chest. 

“Um, ow?” TK said, unsure of what earned him such an attack. “What the heck was that for?” 

Marjan didn’t say anything in return, just stared at him in silence.

“Marj? Why are you staring at me like that?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She starts, the smirk growing. “I was just thinking back to this morning when my best friend TK Strand insisted that we stay in instead of going to - how did he describe it? - some dumb party. I’d like to know where he is because all I see is some lovesick dork who melts to the ground every time Carlos Reyes is in even the slightest vicinity to him.” 

TK glared at her, rolling his eyes. “I’m not lovesick and even if I was, I can assure you it wouldn’t be over Carlos. In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t like him.” 

Marjan huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “In case you’ve forgotten I’m the person that knows you better than you know yourself, TK. I know what you are like when you are deep for a boy and this, this is a whole new extreme.” 

TK sighs, closing his eyes for a moment as he stopped walking. “Do you hate me?” He asks, turning towards her before opening up his eyes. She stared at him for a moment before she smiled, warm and kind. 

“Nah. I’m just messing with you. I’m your best friend, what are we for if not to support you in your quest to get a date with your roommate who you have loved - I mean hated - for the past two years?” 

TK shook his head, choosing to ignore the second half of her statement. “And that attitude is what makes you, Marjan Marwani, my favourite person ever. You know I love you, right?” 

Her smile widened as they began to walk once again. “I do and I know I am.”

“And?” TK pushes. 

She rolled her eyes fondly. “I love you too, TK.” 

He develops a smile of his own, throwing an arm over her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“You do know that I am not going to ever stop teasing you though, right?” 

TK sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah. I know.” 

***

“I can’t believe you made me do this.” It was the second time Paul had said it since they left the dorm. They walked down the sidewalk towards the frat house that was undoubtedly having the party as loud music played through the open windows and people spilled out into the yard. Carlos could already feel claustrophobia setting in. “I would so rather be home right now.” 

“It’ll be fine.” Carlos assured him as they walked up the front steps. “All we need to do is make an appearance to humour him and then we can leave and go watch our movie. An hour tops.” 

“Okay, I’m holding you to that.” 

They bumped their fists together as they walked through the threshold and into the house. Immediately, Carlos was reminded of why Paul was exactly right, he had never been a party person; even in high school. He always opted for doing literally anything else but he was eager to prove TK wrong, or impress him, he wasn’t really sure which one. 

They weaved through the crowd of people that were mingling and dancing in the house where Carlos knew drinks would be. Once they had finally made it there, Carlos was finally able to breathe again. He reached to grab a bottle of water from the pile of drinks while Paul took one of the beers. 

“You’re not going to drink?” Paul asked as he cracked the bottle open. 

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Someone has to get you home in one piece.” 

Paul waved him off. “You worry too much.” 

When they ventured from the kitchen after getting their drinks, they walked into the living room. As he glanced around, Carlos found TK standing amongst the crowd, his own bottle of water in his hand. Carlos tilted his head, watching TK as he talked and laughed with the people around him. In the two years that Carlos had known him, he had never seen TK take a single drink of anything alcoholic. He knew that there must have been a reason but he never asked, figuring that if it was something that TK wanted him to know, he would have told him. 

Carlos broke his gaze away from TK, quickly throwing himself into a conversation with Paul as a distraction. It was only a few moments before that voice was interrupting them once again. 

“Well, look who came after all. I really didn’t think you would.” TK’s voice was incredibly smug as he spoke and Carlos felt his heart skip in his chest as TK threw an arm around his shoulders. 

“I’m not about to allow you to think you’ve got the upper hand or anything.” Carlos said, quickly stepping away from TK. “Don’t want you getting too confident in yourself.” 

There was a mischievous twinkle in TKs eyes and he smirked. “Too late. I’m highly confident you won’t last more than an hour. Have fun.” And then he was turning back around and walking back to his friends. 

“An hour, that’s all we need.” Carlos whispered, confirming what he had promised to Paul earlier. Although, he wasn’t sure if he was trying more to convince Paul with the statement or himself. But he knew that an hour is all he needed to take and then he could go home and pretend his feelings didn’t exist. 

***

“Ready to go?” 

Carlos looked up from where he was leant by the door as Paul approached him. He had texted him five minutes ago letting him know that it was time and that they could go home. “Yeah definitely, let’s get the hell out of here.” 

Before they could move any further, Carlos heard loud yelling coming from one of the other rooms and the music seemed to suddenly stop. As he listened closer, he realised he recognised the voice. TK. He and Paul exchanged a look before they were both rushing into the next room to see what the commotion was about. They rounded the corner just in time to see TK throw a punch, his fist connecting with a guy’s face. The guy, who Carlos recognised as the host of the party Logan Kepner, stumbled backwards before he was throwing a punch of his own. Carlos winced as Logan’s fist made contact with TK’s cheek, throwing him sideways.  He had lost count of how many punches were thrown after that and it wasn’t until TK pushed Logan against the wall that Carlos finally stepped forwards and grabbed TK’s arm mid-swing, pulling him backwards. 

“TK! Stop!” Carlos yelled when TK tried to pull away from him before he finally stopped struggling, opting to simply glare at the guy. Carlos shook his head as he took in TK’s appearance. “Jesus, TK, you’re bleeding.” 

“I’m fine.” TK snapped, pulling his arm away from Carlos’ grip before turning around and disappearing from the room. Carlos heard the front door slam to punctuate his exit. The party seemed to resume after that as if nothing had happened and Carlos felt someone walk up beside him. He turned to find Marjan. 

“What was all that about?” He asked, hoping she would have an idea. 

He frowned when she only shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea. One minute they were talking and he was fine and then the next he snapped.” 

“You should go after him.”  Paul said coming up onto his other side. 

“But -” 

“Carlos, don’t argue with me. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll just stick with Marjan. Now go.” 

Carlos slowly nodded before he turned without another word, pushing himself through the crowd to follow TK out of the door. 

***

Carlos had arrived back to their dorm room in record time to find TK standing at the freezer, digging around for what he could only assume was an ice pack of some sort. 

“Congratulations, only you can get into a completely sober fight.” Carlos joked, hoping to break some of the tension. He didn’t understand why he felt the need. His and TK’s relationship was built on tension. Although he was sure that the tension he felt towards TK was much different than the form TK felt towards him. If he was lucky, maybe it wasn’t. 

“Ha, you’re hilarious.” TK said before he closed the freezer door coming up with nothing. Carlos’ stomach turned with sickness at the sight of the blood dripping from TK’s nose and his split lip, along with the already colourful bruise over his left eye. Carlos watched as he jumped up to sit on the counter. 

Carlos let out a deep breath and he silently walked over to the hallway cupboard to grab out a cloth before he made his way back into the kitchen, wetting it under the tap. When he got close to TK, the boy moved his face away from him. 

“I don’t need your help.” TK whispered stubbornly.

“Quit being such a tough guy. I promise I won’t tell anyone you let your guard down.” 

TK rolled his eyes but nodded and Carlos tapped his knee, stepping between his legs when he parted them. He then began dabbing lightly at the blood that was drying to TK’s pale skin. 

“So what happened?” Carlos asked as he worked. 

“What do you mean?” TK replied, his eyes closed. 

“What did that guy say to make you snap? Something snippy about New York?” 

“No. It was nothing.” TK whispered and Carlos couldn’t help but to notice that TK made no move to make a joke back to him and that worried him only slightly. 

“Sure, I believe that. Seriously, TK, what was it?” 

“He was just mouthing off.” TK said, wincing slightly as Carlos began to clean his nose. 

“About what?” Carlos pushed. 

“Nothing.” 

“TK, come on, that was not -” 

“It was about you, okay!” TK snapped, opening his eyes and looking at Carlos. “Are you happy?” 

Carlos’ hand fell away from TK's face as he stared, wide eyed at his roommate. “Excuse me?” 

TK sighed, looking down as he fumbled his fingers together. Carlos knew for a fact that it was something that he did when he was nervous. “He was saying shit about you and I couldn’t stand there and let him do that. You don’t deserve it.” 

Carlos’ eyebrows furrowed. He was in a state of complete confusion at this point. “But TK, why would you defend me? You don’t even like me?” 

TK snorted, rolling his eyes. “You actually think that I could dislike you, Carlos? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” 

Carlos couldn’t help the blush that ran up his neck and hit his cheeks. “But - you - I -” Carlos stumbled over his words before he shook his head, finally settling on “You like me?” 

“Of course I like you, you dork. I’ve liked you ever since you stumbled through that door on the first day.” TK said, a smile on his bruised face. “You’re one of the best people I know.” 

Carlos frowned. “But we’ve been at each other’s throats every day since.” 

“And when we were at each other’s throats,” TK said, putting air quotes around the words. “Did you ever once hold any sort of anger or hatred? Even a little bit?” 

Carlos didn’t even need to think about his answer. He knew his feelings. “No, not at all.” 

“Exactly, me either. It was fun. But it makes me think that I’m not the only one that has been lying these past two years.” TK said, his voice lowering with the accusation. 

Carlos couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and he needed to get away. Fast. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned to move, desperate to hide himself away but he felt a gentle grip grab at his wrist, holding him in place. He was then forced to slowly turn and look back at TK.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me? Because I do.” TK whispered, his voice so soft and light. “I tend to look at you the same way when you don’t realise it.” 

Carlos could feel himself losing control of his emotions as tears found his eyes. “I don’t understand, why are you just telling me this now? If you’ve known for two years, why now?” 

TK shrugged. “Because it just really hit me tonight after that ass tried to insult you. I felt something deep in my stomach and I’ve been feeling it for a while. But tonight it snapped in me and I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. Besides, like I said we were having fun, I didn’t want to ruin it.” 

Carlos slowly nodded before lowering his head, unable to look at TK anymore. He knew exactly what his roommate was talking about. He had that feeling since the first time he stared into TK’s eyes. “I understand that.” 

Carlos felt gentle fingers on his jaw, travelling until they were underneath his chin to guide his face up so that he was staring into TK’s gaze once again. TK then leaned forwards until they were only a breath away from each other and Carlos became highly aware of his heart pounding in his chest. 

“I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t like you.” TK whispered, his breath hot against Carlos’ face. “I do. I really really like you, Carlos.”

Carlos nodded, their lips brushing together. “I really like you too.” He whispered back before he moved to close the small gap between the two of them. 

When their lips met, Carlos felt TK wince slightly and he tried to pull away but TK shook his head, whispering “It’s okay, don’t stop” against his lips. Carlos was thankful for that because he thinks he would never want to stop this moment from happening. TK wrapped his arms around Carlos’ neck and Carlos wrapped his around TK’s waist, sliding him closer. Carlos had suddenly felt as though a fire had broken free in his chest, his entire body warming underneath TK’s lips. When TK moved to deepen the kiss, Carlos was happy to oblige, allowing TK in. It was as if every single piece of a puzzle had fallen together, like everything he could have ever dreamt of. 

When air was beginning to be a problem, they broke their lips away from each other but they stayed close with TK setting his forehead against Carlos’. “Wow.” TK whispered, breathless. 

“Yeah.” Carlos agreed, a smile on his face. 

“If I had known that was what I was missing I would have kissed you a long time ago.” 

Carlos chuckled. “Trust me,  I wanted to so many times.” 

“I can’t believe this has been what it was like for two years and neither of us had the balls to say anything to each other.” TK pointed out. 

“You’ve got to admit kissing each other would put a dent into the bitter rivalry that we have established with one another.” 

TK raised an eyebrow, pulling away slightly. “Bitter?” 

“You were pretty bitter.” 

“Says the guy that has called me ‘New York’ for the past two years.” TK said.

Carlos grinned, the bickering now seeming more hilarious to him and he moved to pull TK even closer to him so their bodies were pressed hard together. 

TK’s smile faltered slightly, shrinking to a smaller, more serious one. “So, where do we go from here?” He asked, his fingers coming up to tangle themselves in Carlos’ curls. 

Carlos swallowed hard, his throat growing dry. He knew the answer to the question but it was hard for him to even say it. This had been everything he felt over the past two years and he couldn’t believe he was standing here admitting it. This was something that he never thought he’d be doing. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice low in a whisper. “Well, I think the next step would be to ask you out on a date. But since I think we are beyond that point, I think it’d just be safe to ask you to be my boyfriend.” 

TK didn’t answer, only leant forwards to bring their lips together again. This kiss only lasted a few seconds before they were pulling away. “I would like nothing more than to be your boyfriend, Carlos Reyes.” 

Carlos’ smile grew, his nose scrunching up. “Can you believe that it took you getting into a fight to make us realise this?”

TK chuckled. “Well you always did say I was impulsive and reckless.” 

“You do have an unimaginable talent of getting yourself into trouble.” Carlos teased. "And while I'm flattered that you wanted to defend me, maybe we should try keeping fist fights to a minimum." 

“Deal.” TK agreed before, “Man, I can only imagine how Paul and Marjan are going to react. They are going to have a field day with this.” 

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that tonight. Tonight it’s just you and I.” 

TK let out an audible sigh, wrapping his legs around Carlos’ waist as Carlos pulled him off the counter. “I love the sound of that.” 

“Me too.” 

The conversation melted away as their lips locked once again. Carlos tightened his arms around TK’s body, suddenly never wanting to let him go. He could feel his world slowly beginning to disappear from beneath him and the only thing he was left with was TK. He allowed himself to let go, to get lost in TK’s entire being and allowed TK to do the same with him. 

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

***

[neworleansspecial]

Summary: Marjan is Grace’s good girl. (NSFW)

WC: 1.5k | AO3

Series: Grace’s Good Girl (1/?) | Stand Alone: Yes

It comes at the end of an exhausting week, when Marjan is overwhelmed and in desperate need of it. She needs Grace. She needs to be nothing but Grace’s, needs to do nothing but please her, needs to be her good girl. She goes over to Grace’s place and strips before kneeling by the door, waiting for her to come home. 

After about ten minutes, Grace walks through the door and lifts one foot. Marjan obediently unties her shoe and pulls it off her foot to set on the rack. Then the other. “Good girl,” Grace says, and pats her on the head. Marjan preens and follows her further into the house. “Wine, please.”

Marjan selects the bottle on the counter, likely left out this morning just so Marjan wouldn’t have to make a guess at wine; she doesn’t drink, so she doesn’t know what goes well with what, when- Grace chose this, just as she chose the pre-made fruit bowl in the fridge. This isn’t just about Marjan serving her, but about not having to make any choices. Grace is perfect for doing this. She’s so good. Marjan fetches her the fruit as well and sets it on the table for her before kneeling between her legs and resting her face against Grace’s thigh. She wants to eat her out, but she knows better than to even ask. Grace will give it to her when she’s ready. 

“I know you’ve had a rough week,” Grace says between sips of wine and pieces of strawberry. “I’m so proud of you for telling me that you needed me to take care of you. You can always ask for this, and I’m glad you did.”

Marjan turns her head to hide her face, which Grace allows. 

“Did you choose a toy for tonight?”

“No, mistress, I wanted you to.” 

Grace cups her face and lifts it up so their eyes meet. “Such a sweet sub for me, Marj. My good girl.”

Marjan smiles and leans into the touch. They stay that way for a few more minutes before Grace nudges her with her foot and tells her they’re going to the bedroom. Marjan loves her soft sheets, and stretches out on them with a soft noise. Her muscles are sore. They’ll be even more so after this, but she knows Grace will draw her a nice bath with epsom salt and give her a massage after. She will feel like a new person tomorrow, physically and emotionally, so there is no apprehension when she rests her arms above her head with her wrists crossed for Grace to tie them.

Only a moment later, Grace does so with a soft nylon rope, making sure the restraints aren’t too tight so they don’t hurt her. It renders Marjan powerless to do anything but watch as Grace strips off her work uniform. She’s so beautiful. Marjan longs to put her hands on Grace’s curves, her lips on the swell of her breast, her thigh between her legs. Instead she watches Grace step out of her panties and come to kneel over her on the bed. 

“Do you think you deserve to use your mouth on me?”

“Please, Mistress.”

“Do you deserve it?”

Marjan hesitates. She hasn’t done anything to not deserve it, so she nods and says, “Yes, ma’am.”

Grace smiles and shifts up until she’s above Marjan’s face and carefully lowers herself down. This is Marjan’s favorite. She eagerly licks at Grace’s folds, seeking out her clit with her tongue.  Grace grinds slightly against her, chasing the feeling as she praises her. 

“Such a good girl, Marj, you’re doing so well for me.”

Marjan blushes and works harder to make Grace feel good. She wants to be her good girl, her perfect girl. She wants to be Grace’s everything. And like this, it feels so much like she is that her heart is full of it and her head is empty of any thought besides Grace and making her feel good. 

For a few minutes, Grace allows her to eat her out before pulling back and wiping some of the wet off her face. “My good girl,” she says again. 

Marjan smiles and waits for what comes next, which turns out to be Grace helping her turn over and pulling her down the bed so that her legs hang off it and she can stand up on her tiptoes with her torso flat on the bed. She hears Grace rustling in their toy chest for a moment before Grace comes to stand behind her again. The smooth leather of one of their paddles caresses her ass.

“Color?”

“Green, Mistress.”

No sooner than the words leave her mouth does Grace strike her with the paddle. It stings and Marjan hisses, but remembers to count and say, “Thank you, Ma’am.” Another, and another thanks. Slowly, Grace increases the strength of her hits until Marjan is panting for breath and her ass is probably bright red. It’ll hurt to sit tomorrow. Marjan can’t wait. 

After thirty strikes with the paddle, Grace sets it aside and kneels to press a kiss to each of Marjan’s cheeks. Even if she can’t see her, Marjan inhales sharply at the thought of Grace on her knees for her. 

“You’re so wet for me,” Grace observes, and slips two fingers into Marjan’s pussy. “Do you want me to fuck you tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

Grace curls her fingers, making Marjan whimper. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Seemingly satisfied, Grace takes a minute to fuck Marjan on her fingers, adding a third after a moment, to prep her for the strap. It’s a little thicker than three fingers, dark black and curved just enough to rub against Marjan in all the right ways when Grace wears it. Sometimes, of course, Grace rides her, but she prefers it when she gets railed into the mattress. 

Grace steps away to get the toy and put it on, making Marjan whimper at the loss of her touch. “Quiet,” she says, with no heat behind it. “Be good for me.”

Of course Marjan obeys. She stays patiently still until Grace returns, the warmth of her palm a soothing weight against Marjan’s lower back while she uses the other to guide the strap into her. Marjan’s eyes flutter and she pulls slightly at her bound wrists. Fuck, it’s incredible. It always is. Grace moves slowly, giving her time to adjust, before slowly beginning to fuck her properly. 

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Marjan can’t hold back a moan as Grace takes hold of her hips to pull her back into each thrust. It’s mind-numbingly good. Everything is with Grace. She squeezes her eyes shut and moans again, her voice dissolving into soft ah sounds as she’s fucked within an inch of her life. It’s always good with Grace. Always perfect. Grace lets go of her with one hand to spank her already sore ass. 

“You love it, don’t you?” she asks. 

“Yes Mistress, thank you, thank you-”

Grace shuts her up by playing with her clit, overwhelming her with pleasure until it’s too much and all Marjan can do is come. She should’ve asked. Should’ve waited. But she can’t help it and she screams as Grace fucks her through her orgasm, slowing her movements gradually until she stops and pulls out with a wet sound. Marjan is dripping down her own thighs. She shivers in the cold of the room while Grace steps out of the harness and sets it aside to clean later. 

“I’ll let it go for now, because you had a long week,” Grace says. “I know you couldn’t help it. Next time, though, you’ll take your punishment for this, okay?”

Marjan nods and watches through lidded eyes, panting, as Grace gets up onto the bed and sits with her legs spread. 

“Crawl up to me, now. Make me feel good like I did for you, sweetheart.”

Marjan struggles up the bed to reach her, propping herself up on her bound arms to get the leverage she needs to eat Marjan out once more. She wishes she could use her hands, but she throws herself into it, uncaring of the mess it makes of her face. Grace uses a hand on the back of her head to control her movements. Marjan, of course, lets her use her to get to completion, proud of how quickly she gets Grace to come.

Once she catches her breath, Grace unties Marjan and tosses the ribbon aside, opening her arms for Marjan to crawl into. Immediately, Marjan does, holding out her arms for Grace to rub away the marks. After a moment, the tears spring to her eyes. “Was I good?” she asks.

“Oh, baby, you were perfect,” Grace assures, kissing all over Marjan’s face. “You did such a good job, you were my good girl. My perfect, beautiful, submissive girl.”

She adjusts her hold for Marjan to tuck her face in against her neck. In a few minutes, Grace will help her to a bath and clean her up, then rub lotion into her sore ass and bring her back to bed for cuddles through the night. For now, though, she just holds her close and reassures her.