#my patient was tired and disoriented tonight and tried to sit down when there was no chair there

[yardsards]

had baby's first Serious Incident at work but i apparently handled it well and prevented anyone from getting injured! yippee!

[moon-light-jukebox]

“If you want me to, I will.” [Hotch x Reader]

masterlist

Summary: Reader has worked for Aaron Hotchner for the past 6 months as the babysitter to his son, Jack.

Pairing: Hotch x (Female) Reader

Word Count: 7.4k – she thicc

Category: Smut/Fluff…and some angst because of who I am as a person.

Content Warning:

A/n: We all know that Hotch’s favorite album is the Beatles "White Album." And I have odd choices for songs that I use as lullabies. This idea came into my head and never left. This video of Billie Eillish singing part of the song is the closest to the structure of how I imagined it. Okay, okay, look, I know Roy wasn’t diagnosed until season 10. But I am taking creative liberties because I needed Jack to be younger.

Meaning this would be set around season 7. Hotch would be about 41, Jack is around 7; so, I made Reader around 26, giving them a 15-year age gap. Please don’t check my math. 😌

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized texts are Reader’s thoughts.

-- If you want me to, I will. --

I was disoriented when I woke up. This isn’t my bed, I thought groggily. Wait…this isn’t even my house.

“Y/n,” a deep voice rumbled beside me.

I jackknifed up into a sitting position, eyes wide and my face flushed with embarrassment. “Mr. Hotchner!” I quickly brought my hand up to my cheek to make sure I hadn’t drooled in my sleep. Because that would really be the cherry on top of my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep. This is so embarrassing.”

Mr. Hotchner had been crouched down, putting himself level with his living room couch; the same couch he came home and found me sleeping on. In all the months I’d worked for the Hotchner/Brooks family, I’d never seen Mr. Hotchner smile anytime he wasn’t talking to his son, Jack. He always looked incredibly serious and sometimes incredibly sad; but the normal scowl was missing from his face as he looked at me, I noticed, watching him rise to a standing position.

“It’s fine, y/n. It’s after 1 o’clock in the morning.” He shifted, turning to go open the gun safe he kept in the part of the living room where his desk sat. Mr. Hotchner, or Hotch, as he kept telling me to call him, was the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit with the FBI. Which was just a very fancy way of saying he was a profiler that was in charge of all the other profilers. Some people just look like the jobs they have; Mr. Hotchner was one of those people. “Thank you for staying late, I didn’t think things were going to run this long. I didn’t even know you were here until I called Jessica a few hours ago.”

“Oh, right,” I mumbled as I began to gather my things from the coffee table and put them into my bag. “She called me a little after 4; something happened with her dad, I think.” I zipped my bag shut, standing up quickly. “I didn’t mind helping out, Mr. Hotchner.”

He made a sound that was almost a chuckle. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Hotchner, y/n. I know I’m a lot older than you, but that makes me feel ancient.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” I protested.

He looked incredulous. “Y/n, you’re still in college.”

Well, that stings a bit. “I’m in graduate school,” I said, my voice dampening a little bit. “I’m almost 27.”

Mr. Hotchner blinked at me. “Really? I thought you were younger than that…���

“My age didn’t come up in the numerous background checks you did on me?” I scoffed, immediately wincing as the words flew out of my mouth. “Oh my god, I just keep making this worse.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner. For falling asleep on your couch…and for every moment after that. I’ll just go now.”

"Y/n," he called. "hang on, it's really late, and…I still need to pay you."

Jesus. “It is late, Mr. Hotchner, that’s why I need to head home.” I forced an awkward laugh. “I have class at 9 am.”

He pushed his hands into his pockets, regarding me in a way that made me squirm. I wasn’t used to a person paying attention to me the way Mr. Hotchner did. It didn’t make me uneasy; I just felt like I couldn’t hide anything from him…which made me uneasy. “What classes are you taking this semester?”

I don’t know why it stung so much that he knew virtually nothing about me. I’d worked for him for 6 months; he wasn’t obligated to know anything about me other than how I took care of his son. “I’m actually done with my course work this semester,” I mumbled. “I’m a TA…in a class that starts at 9 am.” It doesn’t matter, you’re just tired. “You-you can just pay me for tonight the next time I’m over. It’s not like you’re gonna stiff me.” I walked over to the door and threw a very quick “goodnight, Mr. Hotchner” over my shoulder before I scurried out.

I missed the quiet “Aaron. You can call me Aaron.”

--

The entire drive home, my thoughts were on Aaron Hotchner. None of this was what I expected when I took this job. I had been in graduate school for 2 years now. I had already gotten my master’s degree and had been accepted into the Ph.D. program. There are many branches of psychology, but I had always been fascinated with cognitive psychology; it seemed only natural that that is what I would pursue in graduate school. Once it became time to focus my interest in preparation for my dissertation, I decided to study the cognitive decay in Alzheimer's patients. We knew that they lost memories, but I wanted to explore how their basic cognitive functions were affected in certain settings.

As part of my program, I was a TA in an intro psych class, and I conducted my research at the hospital connected to the university. That’s where I first met Jessica Brooks. Despite getting a stipend for my teaching assistant work, I had been taking odd jobs to help make ends meet; D.C. wasn't cheap. When I mentioned that I had experience with kids, Jessica had immediately told me that she was needing help caring for her nephew in the wake of her father, Roy's diagnosis. She wanted to keep him at home, which was both admirable and time-consuming.

I wasn’t prepared for the gigantic background check that I was subjected to. I very quickly learned that my potential employer had some power at the FBI. Jessica had raved to him about me, so he agreed to meet with me. When Jessica told me he worked for the FBI, I was expecting a bureaucrat, kind of short, receding hairline, soft from sitting behind a desk all day.

Aaron Hotchner was none of those things. He was a total cliché; he was tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes were such a deep brown they were almost black, his hair was black, and he towered over me. His hand was firm when he shook mine. I initially thought he didn’t like me because of the scowl he wore on his face; now I knew that was just his default expression. I’m pretty sure he invented Resting Bitch Face. I think it was my meeting with Jack that sealed the deal. We had clicked right away. The 7-year-old was impressed by my knowledge of both DC and Marvel comics. I could still remember our first meeting so clearly; when in a move that I now know is so much like his father, he had asked me an interview question of his own.

“What is Spiderman’s middle name?” the boy had asked with a suspicious squint of his eyes.

This kid is poser checking me, I had thought with amusement. “That would depend on which Spiderman you’re referring to. Assuming it’s Peter Parker, his middle name is Benjamin.”

We were best friends after that.

I loved Jack; I really did. And I was paid well enough that he was the only child I babysat for, the rest of my time spent working on my research and plotting my dissertation. It was clear that Aaron Hotchner loved his son, and he felt guilty for not being around more. He was fierce and intimidating any other time, but once he was with his son, his entire face would transform. His smiles came easier, his eyes twinkled, and he didn’t seem so scary anymore.

None of that is why he made me nervous, though. What made me so nervous is the fear that one day I was going to spend enough time with him for him to see the feelings I had so stupidly developed for him.  

--

The very next night, I was hiding in the kitchen floor in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment.

“Ready or not, here I come!” the little voice called out before his feet started stomping loudly across the floor.

From my position behind the kitchen counter, I tried very hard to remain silent, despite my amusement. Jack Hotchner was many wonderful, wonderful things. Sneaky was not one of them. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when I heard his little feet hurry towards me, and I didn’t lose my balance when he turned the corner and launched himself at me. “Oomph!” was the only reasonable sound to make when a tiny human slammed into you.

Jack was delighted. “I FOUND YOU!”

My response was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Jack was off me in a flash, barreling towards the living room. “Daddy!”

Mr. Hotchner made a similar “oomph” noise when Jack jumped on him, confirming my theory. I rose to my feet quickly, smoothing down my clothes.

“We were playing hide and seek, Daddy!” Jack informed his father. “I found y/n every time! She never found me once!” His chest puffed out with pride, making my face break into a smile.

“You’re just an excellent hider, Jack-attack.”

Mr. Hotchner’s eyes settled on my face then, for just a moment I saw something so sad in those eyes that the breath seized in my lungs.

He cleared his throat, seeming to shake off whatever he was thinking before smiling at his son. “I’m glad you had a good time with, y/n, buddy.”

Jack nodded vigorously. “I helped make dinner!”

“You did?” He questioned in fake astonishment. “When did you make dinner?”

“Tonight!”

Mr. Hotchner looked at me quizzically. “Oh, um, I wasn’t actually supposed to watch Jack tonight…but Jessica called and asked if I could. It was really last minute, and she’d already bought some stuff to make dinner…” I trailed off. “I hope that’s okay. Jesus Christ, y/n. You’re a 26-year-old woman, get it together.

His attention moved from me to his son. "Jack, go get changed into your pj's. It's almost bedtime." When Jack's mouth opened to protest this great injustice, his father went on. "You can tell y/n bye when you're done."

So much for a speedy escape, I thought. Instead, I just smiled at him. "Yep, I'll be right here, little man." Satisfied with this, Jack jumped out of his father's arms and ran towards his room.

“Why did Jessica need you to come over? Did something happen with Roy?” He looked genuinely worried, walking into the kitchen to stand near me.

I reached out and put a hand on his arm without thinking. "Oh, oh god no, nothing like that." Realizing I was touching him, I snatched my hand back like he'd burned me. "Sorry. She…she-um had a date."

His eyebrows rose so high they almost hit his hairline. “A date?” he asked, disbelief dripping from his words.

I chuckled. “That’s what she told me.”

He walked back into the living room then, leaning back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he focused his dark gaze on me. “What about you?”

“…What about me what?”

“Does Jessica ever have to cover for you when you have dates?”

If Aaron Hotchner hadn’t made me so nervous, I might have picked up on how he phrased that question. As it happens, all I could do was fidget under his gaze. “Oh,” I chuckled nervously. “Ah, no. She doesn’t have to do that. I don’t really date.”

That had one of his eyebrows rising, his arms crossing across his chest. "Why?"

Because I want you to crack my back like a glowstick. “Um…you know, it’s hard to find the time.”

Thankfully Jack chose that moment to come barreling out of his room, charging full force at me. “You’re still here!” he exclaimed.

I smiled down at him when his arms wrapped around my hips. I put one hand on the back of his head, the other on his back, giving him a squeeze. “Of course I am! I couldn’t leave without telling you goodbye.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he mumbled.

My throat worked as a sudden wave of emotion hit me. "Oh, Jack," my voice was thicker than usual when I spoke. "I don't like leaving you either, but you'll see me before you know it. I promise."

Once we had finally pried Jack off me, Mr. Hotchner went to take him to bed. He turned to me when he scooped Jack up in his arms. “Thank you for today.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Hotchner.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Most people call me Hotch. Or you could call me Aaron.”

I didn't know what to say to that; all I could do was give him an awkward smile. I was gone before he came back into the living room. I didn't want to leave, I never did, but I couldn't risk being alone with…Aaron.

--

The following Thursday night, my phone started ringing just after 11:30. Glancing at it, I saw it was Jessica. “Hey,” I said in greeting.

“Hey, y/n,” she said, sounding frazzled. “I have a huge favor to ask. Dad’s home health nurse had to leave early tonight.” “Is something wrong with Melinda?” I hope not. She’s the sweetest.

“No, I don’t think so. But she needs to go home and there’s no one to sit with Jack. But Aaron isn’t home yet…”

“I’ll be there in 20.”

Which is why I was now in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment after midnight in a pair of shorts that were so short I only ever wore them at home and a t-shirt that I had had for forever. Jessica had sounded so upset when she called, I hadn't even thought to change. She had promised to be back as quick as she could; she said that Mr. Hotchner was flying back from a case, and she didn’t expect him until 5 a.m. at the earliest.

When I first arrived, I had tried to watch TV, my mind too wired to sleep, even though I had class at 9 am in the morning. Sighing, I glanced over at the clock to see it was just after 1:45 in the morning.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I whined out loud. I have to go to sleep; even if it’s just a little nap. I remembered Jessica had left some chamomile tea here for the nights she stayed over to watch Jack. Finding the kettle and the tea itself was no problem; the problem presented itself when I had to get a mug to put the tea in.

I had never considered myself a particularly short person; sure, I had to stretch to get things from time to time, but everybody did that. Looking up into the upper cabinets in the Hotchner house had me reconsidering that. The mugs were on the very top shelf and try as I might, I just couldn’t seem to reach them; my fingers kept grazing over the ceramic.

“Goddamnit,” I mumbled in a huff. What is the point to put mugs way the fuck up there? Some of us are a perfectly normal height…but noooo I have to work for giants. I braced my hands on the countertop as I heaved myself up on to said countertop. Once my knees were in place, I got the offending cup without further problems.

I blame how focused I was on my task for my not hearing the front door open, or the footsteps that followed. Which is why I had a mild heart attack when I heard a voice that sounded highly amused say from behind me, “What are you doing?”

Several things happened all at once, and very quickly. I let out the most embarrassing squeak in all of history, I lost my balance on the counter and the cup fell from my hand. The cup crashed to the floor and shattered. My fate might have been the same but two large hands caught me, gripping my hips from behind. I looked down to see his long fingers wrapping around my waist, gripping me tightly; my difficulty breathing then had nothing to do with how scared I was.  

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said softly, still not releasing me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, I get it,” I said lightly, attempting to act like I wasn’t going into cardiac arrest because he was touching me. “You’re a very stealthy FBI agent. It was bound to happen.”

He chuckled before his hands pushed my hips so I was twisting around, my legs shifting until I was sitting on the countertop, staring into the same dark eyes I thought about far too often. They weren’t as harsh as they usually were; tonight, they were soft and warm, and they made my pulse race a bit faster.

I moved to get off the counter when the hands that were still on my hips stopped me. “Hang on, let me clean this up first. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Fantastic, I thought, hiding my face in my hands. It seems I was incapable of not making a fool out of myself in front of this man.

He worked quickly while I debated changing my name and fleeing the country; in the next moment, he was standing in front of me again. "What's wrong?"

“Oh, nothing,” I said, not moving my hands. “Just dying of embarrassment.”

Aaron actually laughed at that, moving closer to stand between my thighs, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of my hips. “Why are you embarrassed?”

I dropped my hands then. “Because this is becoming a pattern! First, I fell asleep on your couch, then I almost fell off your counter and cracked my head like an egg.” I bit my lip, shifting under his gaze. “I’m sorry and thank you for catching me.”

“I didn’t mind,” he said softly.

He still had that soft look on his face, but he was smiling too like he was enjoying my embarrassment. He probably is. I had never been this close to him before. I didn’t know his eyes weren’t just one flat color of brown, but that lighter shades of brown whirled throughout. I had never felt the heat of his body before, but now I was so close I could smell him. Why does he have to smell good? I whined internally. If he just stunk, I could get over this.

This was exactly why I tried very hard to stay as far away from him as possible because I lost the ability to think clearly whenever I was with him. I couldn't stop my eyes from moving down to his lips. I was eye level with him from my position on the counter; all I had to do to brush my lips across his was lean forward, so that’s exactly what I did. His body stiffened slightly at the first touch of my lips to his. I pulled back, ready to apologize when his hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me back to him. There was nothing soft about this kiss. His free hand gripped my thigh, my hands held on to his shirt, trying to pull him closer. My tongue brushed against his mouth before he sucked on the tip of it, causing me to shudder. He took a step forward as his tongue twirled around mine. I could feel him when he settled against me; he was hard, and I found myself shifting my hips to rub against him.

The shrill ringing of his phone broke us apart suddenly. He was panting, his cheeks were slightly flushed. I thought I heard him let out a “fuck” under his breath as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone.

“Hey Jessica,” he answered.

Now that our moment was broken, I felt very self-conscious. What the fuck did I just do?! He is my boss. He is Jack’s dad. Aaron took a step back and I slid off the counter. This turned out to be a very bad idea on my part; my body brushed down the front of his, causing me to bite my lip to silence the moan that threatened to escape.

“Yeah, I landed a little while ago,” he said as I left the kitchen.

WhatthefuckWhatthefuck. I heard him end the call with Jessica before he quickly walked into the living room. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw me. “I thought you’d try to slip away.”

“I thought about it,” I told him honestly.

“Listen, y/n, about that in the kitchen,” he began.

I held up my hands. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hotchner. I don’t know why I did that; I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I was giving him an out because I couldn’t handle hearing the rejection I knew was coming. “I just…I guess we got caught up in the moment? And you’re really tired, I’m sure. I’m so sorry.” I was rambling now. “If you don’t want me to watch Jack anymore-“

“Y/n, no,” he interrupted. “No, this…you’re right, it was just a heat of the moment thing. It happens. I’m sorry I lost myself for a moment.” He cleared his throat, his face still set in softness. “Jack loves you. He doesn’t need to suffer for any more of my mistakes.”

Mistakes. The word hollowed me out and left me cold. I just nodded. “Right,” I said in what I hoped was an even tone. “Just a mistake. I should get going. It’s really late.”

Which is how I found myself driving home at almost 3 in the morning with tears running down my cheeks. A mistake.

--

Things went back to normal after that night. I continued to avoid Aaron Hotchner at all costs and he…did whatever he did. I tried to hide the hurt whenever I did happen to see him, but it was so hard when I could still feel the tingle from his lips on mine.

A few days after the “mistake,” I was babysitting Jack again. He’d went to bed at his normal 8:30 and all was quiet. I decided to do some TA work while I waited for Mr. Hotchner to come home. I was halfway through grading an essay when I heard the first noise come from Jack’s room. Lifting my fingers from the keys of my computer, I waited to see if I heard another sound. I didn’t have to wait long; not even a minute passed before I heard a strained cry. Jumping up, I hurried down the hall to Jack’s bedroom.

Cracking the door open I called, “Jack-attack? Are you okay, little man?” I didn’t see him right away; he had hidden under his covers and curled up into a little ball. “Hey, Jack. It’s just y/n.” I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I saw the lump under the blankets start to move hesitantly before I saw his brown hair peak out of the blanket near his pillow. His eyes were wide and with the light shining in from the hall, I could see tears gleam in them. “Oh, buddy,” I cooed. “Did you have a bad dream?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah…there was a bad man…and my daddy didn’t come save me.”

I felt my breath seize in my chest. Jessica had told me a brief version of what happened to Jack's mother a few years ago. "Jack, you know your dad would always do whatever he had to do to come to save you." I shifted my position on the bed until I was sitting beside him. "He'd never let anything bad happen to you." Jack started inching closer to me. I held out my arms and smiled when he lunged for me; I wrapped him in a tight hug, rubbing circles on his back.

“My dad just isn’t home a lot anymore. He has a lot of work to do,” he mumbled into my shirt.  

“Your dad would be home if he could, Jack.” I couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of my voice. It wasn’t fair to either Jack or his dad that he had to be away so much.

“I know,” the little boy whispered. “I just miss him sometimes.”

“Do you want to call him?” I offered. “I don’t think he’d mind.”

Jack just shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” He turned his face up to look at me. “Will you stay with me?”

I moved so he lay beside me with my left arm still squeezed around him. “Of course, bud.” I scooted down the bed so I was reclining instead of sitting straight up, pulling the cover-up over him again. "Do you want me to read you another story?"  

He just shuffled under his covers, looking at me with the bashful innocence of childhood. “Can you sing to me until I fall asleep?”

I wasn’t the biggest fan of singing in front of people, but how could I turn this little face down? I just nodded. “Do you have any requests?”

“Nope,” he answered with a little grin on his face.

Unfortunately, at that moment every single lullaby I had ever know left my head. I couldn’t think of a single traditional lullaby. So, I decided to improvise. I started singing slower songs I knew, some of them might not have been appropriate for a 7-year-old’s lullaby, but I don’t think Jack cared that much.

He was almost out, drifting on the edge between deep sleep and awake. My arm was still around his shoulder, he was still snuggled to my side. I decided one more song would be enough, which meant I pulled out my second Beatles song of the night.

“Who knows how long I’ve loved you?

You know I love you still.

Will I wait a lonely lifetime?

If you want me to, I will.

For if I ever saw-“

I glanced up, immediately sensing there was someone else in the room. To my horror, Jack’s father was standing in the doorway, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I swallowed nervously, then I turned to press a kiss against Jack’s soft forehead before I gently detangled myself from him. I straightened my clothes that to my further embarrassment had shifted around because I was laying with a wiggly child, then, attempting to keep my face impassive, I walked to the door, moving around his father as I exited.

Mr. Hotchner walked into the room and checked on his son, while I moved into the living room to gather my things. I wonder if he just left the money by the door, I mused. If he did, I could just make a dash for the door. I mean, if he didn’t, he could always just pay me next time. Sadly, my plans were escape were foiled yet again by the man in question entering the room.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I know he was up past his bedtime. I put him down at 8, but he had a nightmare." I was babbling, not meeting his eyes, my gaze very intently focused on my bag. "He asked me to stay with him until he fell asleep…" I finally looked up, shrugged, and said, "He's very hard to say no to."

“You don’t have to apologize for being nice to my son, y/n,” he said softly. “That’s one of my favorite songs on the White Album, you know.”

I hadn’t known that. “Mr. Hotch-“

He took a step towards me before I finished speaking. “Y/n, please, I can barely handle this as it is. Please call me Aaron.”

I just blinked up at him. “So, ‘Hotch’ is off the table now?”

That had a soft smile curving his lips upward. "That was a limited-time deal. You should have been quicker." I saw his hand rise up slowly, so slowly that I would have had time to move away…but I just couldn’t. He brushed my hair back from my face, his eyes were two pools of black in the dim light, they were swirling with something that made my stomach flutter.

“Aaron,” I breathed, having no idea what I was going to say.

He let out a soft sigh, turning his eyes upwards. When he brought them back down to mine, his hand slid from its place near my ear to cradle the back of my head. His eyes searched mine for a moment before his shoulders dropped slightly. “Fuck it,” he muttered before he leaned down and sealed his lips over mine.

I might have thought this kiss would be questioning or unsure, but there was nothing unsure about it. Aaron kissed me like he was starving for me. His teeth caught my bottom lip and tugged as he pulled away. “It wasn’t a mistake,” he breathed before bringing his lips more firmly against mine.

My hands began to move over his body; one of my hands grabbed his tie and used it to pull him closer to me, the other reached up to brush against the short, soft hair on the back of his neck. “It wasn’t?” I questioned when we broke away for air.

Aaron’s lips moved across my cheek, leaving soft kisses until he reached my ear. “No, sweet girl, it wasn’t.” His mouth moved down to my neck; his kisses turning into bites that were sure to become brushes. I didn’t care, I needed him. My hands moved to his shirt, quickly trying to undo all the buttons.

His hands moved down to the waist of my jeans, deftly flicking the button open before sliding the zipper down. “Is this what you want?” he asked as his hand touched my lower stomach, his fingers brushing over the elastic band of my panties.

“Yes,” I said, still working to free him from his shirt. “I want this so much.”

The fingers of his free hand rose up to tap my chin, forcing my eyes up until I met his gaze. "I want to hear you say my name again." His other hand lifted from my stomach to slide over the flair of my hip until he was gripping my ass. "Whenever I laid in bed that night after I had you pressed against me in my kitchen when I stroked my cock, I thought about you moaning my name.” The hand that was on my chin pulled away, skimming down my body until he was grabbing the other side of my ass. “So, say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, Aaron.” So, so much.

His hands moved to the backs of my thighs, then he lifted me up his body, startling me. Jesus Christ, how strong is this guy? I threw my arms around his neck as he started walking us down towards his bedroom. A giggle escaped my lips. “I could have walked, you know.”

We had already entered his room; he tossed me gently on the bed before he turned to close and lock the door. He walked to stand at the side of his bed, his eyes devouring me. “I couldn’t give you a chance to sneak away again, sweet girl.” Aaron pulled off his tie before he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shedding it on the floor.

Fuck. Fuck, he’s hot. I pulled my own shirt over my head, and his body was on top of me before it even left my hands. Aaron's mouth moved down to my collarbones, his hand slipped behind my back to unhook my bra. Once the straps were down my arms, Aaron lifted himself up on his arms to toss it away, his eyes running over my body. "You're so beautiful," he said softly like it wasn't the sweetest compliment I'd ever been paid. He leaned over again, his lips skimming down to my chest before he wrapped his lips around one of my nipples.

“Fuck, Aaron,” I moaned.

He gave my nipple a flick with his tongue before he lifted his head. “Ssh, sweet girl. You have to be quiet. Can you do that?” He kissed his way over to my other breast. “I can’t do this if you won’t be quiet.”

“I can be quiet,” I whispered right before I bit my lip to smother my moan at the feeling of his mouth on me. “Maybe.”

His breath puffed against my skin when he laughed at me. My hands threaded through his hair when he brought his face back up to mine. My mouth opened eagerly for him, my tongue slicking over his while I tried to grind my body against him. Aaron was smiling when he broke the kiss, shifting up onto his knees. “Well, I appreciate you trying to be quiet at any rate,” he teased.

My response died in my throat when his fingers yanked my jeans off my legs, bringing my panties with them. I was totally bare in front of him. His eyes raked down my body in a way that would make me self-conscious with anyone else. How could I ever be self-conscious with a man who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world?

But when he started to kiss further down my body, I grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him back up to kiss me. “Aaron,” I whispered.

He pressed a soft kiss to my collarbone. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“You don’t…you don’t have to do…that,” I mumbled, feeling my face heat up.

Aaron braced himself on his arms and stared down at me. Enlightenment dawned on his face a second later. He leaned down to kiss me softly. “Do you not want me to?”

I bit my lip, feeling more flustered. “It’s just…I’ve never…and I know that guys don’t really like-.“ My words were cut off when he placed another kiss to my lips, still incredibly soft, but with more force than before.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't," he said quietly. "But I can assure you, I can't think of anything more I'd rather do than lick your pussy until you cum all over my face." He skimmed his lips over my cheek to my ear. "And once you've come down, I want to slide my cock inside you and feel how soft and wet you are." His kisses moved down to my neck, his mouth sucking on my pulse point. "Then I want to fuck you until you're whimpering against my lips to make you cum again.”

I felt my core throb at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. He lifted his gaze when he got back to my breast, flicking my nipple with his tongue. “Is that what you want too, sweet girl?”

I have never wanted anything more, I thought; but I was so far gone that all I could do was nod.

He gave me a soft smile, moving down the bed further to settle between my thighs, pulling them further apart. I felt a kiss pressed to one thigh, then the other. His hot breath washed over the part of me that was already so wet for him. “You’re beautiful here too,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to my clit. I lifted my hips at the sensation, causing him to chuckle and move his hands to wrap around my thighs, his arms anchoring me in place. A second later I understood why he braced my hips. The second he flattened his tongue and licked the length of my pussy, my hips started moving involuntarily and my fingers tangled in his hair.

I felt a puff of air against me when he laughed again, and it made me smile. I didn’t expect Aaron Hotchner to be fun…or dirty in bed. All thought immediately left my head when he parted me with his tongue, dipping into my entrance before spearing his tongue into me. I felt the vibration when he moaned against me. "You taste so fucking good, y/n," he said, his voice still hushed. Giving my entrance one last lick, he moved up to my clit.

He spent time moving his tongue around me, learning what made me squirm. When he started fluttering his tongue quickly over my clit my hands started tugging on his hair and my thighs tried to snap together.

“Aaron,” I whined, attempting to rock my hips against his mouth.

I think he understood what I needed better than I did. His left hand released my thigh and moved down to my heat, just below his mouth. I felt his fingers brush over me before he pushed on inside me, causing my back to arch off the bed. “Aaron, Aaron, fuck.” He added a second finger, pumping them in a rhythm that complimented the movements of his mouth.

I wasn't prepared for when his lips closed around my clit, sucking lightly, while his fingers started to curl inside of me. “Oh my God," I moaned out, louder than I should have. "Aaron, I'm going to cum." I started pulling on his hair so hard it must have hurt, but he just moaned against me, never slowing his pace. "Aaron, fuck, please. I think…I-I-“

My words broke off as the band inside of me snapped, my pussy clamping down on his fingers and my back arching off of the bed, my mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Aaron slowed his motions, slowly bringing me through the orgasm and back down to Earth. With one final kiss to my thigh, he rose and moved up my body until his face was hovering over mine. His lips were shiny with my arousal, they also looked a little swollen, but more importantly, they were smirking at me.

I’ll give him that one. Reaching up I cradled his jaw in my hands, bringing his mouth down to mine. I tasted myself on his lips and tongue when he licked into my mouth. Despite the powerful orgasm he had just given me, I was still desperate for him. I broke away from his mouth. “Aaron, I need you.”

He pressed another kiss to my lips before he lifted up and stood at the side of the bed, undoing the buckle of his belt. My eyes were fixed on his movements, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and slid them down his legs. His cock was a thick pipe outlined in his underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband before he spoke again. "I'll give you everything you need, greedy girl." Aaron pushed his underwear down, his cock springing free before he climbed back on the bed.

He was so much thicker than I expected he would be. I moved my hand down to wrap my fingers around him, pumping his length. He let out a groan and lowered his forehead to mine. “Baby,” he muttered. “I…fuck. I have to get a condom.”

“Aaron,” I whined. “I want to feel you inside me. I’m on birth control. Please?” The thought of anything separating me from this man was abhorrent to me in that moment.

I saw his willpower crumble. “Are you sure?”

So sure. “Please,” I begged lifting my head to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.”

With a groan that I will remember for the rest of my life, he shifted his hips forwarded, allowing my hands to guide him to my entrance. Aaron kissed me then, slowly and deeply has he started to push inside me. My hand flew away from his cock, both my arms wrapping around his body to pull him closer to me. I felt my nails digging into his back.

Aaron broke our kiss with another soft moan that sounded like my name. “I knew you’d feel like this,” he whispered, pressing deeper inside me. “I knew your pussy would be this fucking tight, this fucking hot, and so fucking soft." He started moving in and out of my pussy, going in a little further each time. “You still have to be quiet, sweet girl.”

“I’m trying,” I moaned, my pussy already starting to flutter around him when he finally pushed all the way inside of me. “Aaron, fucking Christ.” I felt him everywhere, and I somehow still craved more.

He grabbed my thigh, pulling if further up his side, allowing himself to sink deeper inside of me. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” He started a slow pace, pulling almost all the way out of me before slamming back inside me.

My head was thrashing against the pillows, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “Aaron, I need you to fuck me harder. Please.”

He groaned at my words, placing a sloppy kiss to my mouth before pulling back. He pulled one of my legs up until it was over his shoulder, the other still wrapped around his waist, and then he started to move faster inside of me.

I braced one hand against the headboard as he pounded into me. “Oh my god, Aaron,” my voice was a low whimper as I looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of me. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Baby, I want you to reach down and rub your clit for me while I fuck your tight little pussy.” His pace started to speed up as he spoke. “Can you do that for me?” He groaned when I complied, the stimulation to my clit causing my pussy to flutter around him. “Good girl.”

My fingers began to work frantically. “Don’t stop, Aaron. Don’t stop,” I begged. “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweet girl, I can feel you. Your pussy feels so good squeezing around my cock. You’re going to make me cum.” His thrusts were starting to get choppier, one of his hands braced on the top of the headboard while the other held my leg on his shoulder. “Do you want me to cum inside your pretty pussy, sweet girl?” He groaned loudly when my walls clenched around him. “It feels like you like the idea of that, don’t you baby?”

My fingers continued their pace, my head thrashing, my body trembling. “Yes. Fuck, Aaron. Please cum inside of me. Please.”

Aaron felt it first and acted quickly; his hand moved from my leg to cover my mouth. “That’s it, cum for me, baby.”

I thought my orgasm earlier tonight was powerful. It was nothing compared to how I felt when I came around his cock, only to feel him find his own release a moment after.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, y/n,” he breathed, giving a last few jerks inside of my body, pushing against the fluttering aftershocks of my orgasm. He rolled off me, careful not to drop all of his weight on top of me. To my relief, he quickly gathered me in his arm, pulling me against his body, pressing a soft kiss to my sweaty forehead.

My ear was pressed against his chest, allowing me to hear his heartbeat slowdown from its frantic pace and his breathing even out. I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his chest while his hand continued to stroke my back.

“That…that was amazing,” I said, looking up at him. “If I knew you had that in you, I wouldn’t have run out of the room every time I was alone with you.”

He laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. “Well, at least you’ll know for next time.”

My thoughts sobered at his words. Next time

“Hey,” he said, his hand cupping the side of my face. “No, don’t go away. I just got you.” He kissed my forehead again, then the tip of my nose, then both of my eyelids, before he tilted my face up further so he could press a kiss to my lips. “We’ll figure this out. We have to. I care too much about you to let you go.”

“I care about you too,” I replied, snuggling against his chest, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy.

I was almost asleep when I heard his voice rumble again. “Will you sing Beatles songs to me when I can’t sleep too?” His voice was sleepy and teasing.

I smiled into the darkness, not bothering to open my eyes. “If you want me to, I will.”

--

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[bi-bard]

Through Every Nightmare...-Will Graham Imagine (Hannibal)

Title: Through Every Nightmare...

Pairing: Will Graham X Reader

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1,700 words

Warning(s): Nightmares, mentions of manipulation, mentions of mental illness, cussing

Summary: (Late Season 1) (Y/n) wanted the best for Will. Always had. So when (Y/n) gets a hint that others are fighting to tear him apart- whether they were aware of it or not- (Y/n) had to step up and draw a line in the sand. Evil can only go so far when good actually stared it in the face. 

Author’s Note: Hey... look what’s been added to the list!

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I happily scratched one of the dogs behind their ears as I fix my sleeping bag. The dog stepped closer, starting to lick my face, making me chuckle. 

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” I looked over to Will as he spoke.

“I figured it would make both of us more comfortable,” I replied, standing up completely. 

“So the long scarf is going to be more comfortable?”

“A light piece of fabric versus a whole human body? Yeah, I think the long scarf would be more comfortable.”

“I see your point,” he chuckled. 

I waited for him to lay down before grabbing the long scarf from my bag. I tied one end around his wrist and held up my arm so he could tie the other end around mine.

“Would you mind telling me the method to your madness,” Will asked. I pulled my arm, making his move as well.

“When you have a nightmare or start sleepwalking, I’ll feel you pull on my arm,” I explained. “I’ll be able to help you sooner.”

“Where’d you get this tip?”

“An old friend did this with his mom when he started taking care of her,” I shrugged. “I just thought that it would be helpful.”

“Thank you,” he grinned at me. I nodded one before laying down and getting comfortable. 

“Goodnight Will,” I said softly, noticing him shifting with his blanket.

“Goodnight, (Y/n),” he replied. 

A few hours later, there was a sharp pull on my arm. I instantly woke up, coming to my senses. The dogs were almost all surrounding the bed, worried about their owner, especially Winston, who had started nudging me with his nose. 

“Will,” I said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Will.”

He sweating a lot and shaking. He was still pulling away from something. I gently touched his arm, hesitantly shaking him. 

“Will,” my voice was a little louder. With a sigh, I grabbed his shoulders and gave him one solid shove. I sat back as he sat up quickly.

He was panting, trying to focus on what was around him. His dream had muddled with reality for a moment before he looked at me. The next thing I knew, I was pulled into a bone-crushing hug. Will hid his face in my neck and I gently ran my fingers through his hair as I hugged him back.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sounding like he was near tears. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” I mumbled. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

Slowly, his breathing calmed down. I switched from playing with his hair to rubbing his back. He seemed to pull me even closer.

“Do you want some water or anything,” I asked. He shook his head. “Okay, let me at least get you a new blanket.”

“Don’t go,” he begged. 

I nodded even though he wasn’t looking at me, “Okay, I won’t.”

I don’t know how long we sat like that and I didn’t care. I just wanted to know that he was alright. That’s all I ever wanted. 

--Time Skip--

A few days later, I found myself at the door to Jack Crawford’s office. I gently knocked, waiting for him to tell me to come in. I shut the door behind me carefully and sat in the chair on the other side of his desk.

“May I ask what this is about,” he asked.

“It’s about Will,” I said. “I don’t think he should be in the field.”

“If this is about him becoming disoriented, I’ve been told that he’s fine.”

“That’s not it, sir,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry but I don’t think you’re being told everything. Will is having intense nightmares and he’s having episodes of sleepwalking. I believe that the intensity of these episodes are at least partly due to the work he’s doing in the field.”

“Has Will told you that he’s having trouble?”

“Does Will commonly admit that to people?”

“Agent Crawford,” I turned around to see Dr. Lecter in the doorway. 

“Dr. Lecter, come in, we were just discussing Will’s current mental state,” Jack said.

I looked away, now looking towards the floor. I didn’t have any evidence but I had a feeling that Hannibal had also been manipulating Will in some way. I noticed the startling connection between Hannibal’s therapy and Will’s behavior. 

“Sir, I was just looking out for a co-worker,” I explained. “I’m sure that Dr. Lecter and Dr. Bloom would agree that the field is taking an obvious toll on Will.”

“I have to agree Agent (Y/l/n),” Hannibal added. “The field is a dangerous place for him to be.”

“Will is saving lives,” Jack replied. “I wouldn’t ask him to do something if I didn’t think he could handle it.”

“You’re willing to risk Will’s life for others,” I asked. “Not just physically, you’re asking him to sacrifice his stability for your work.”

“I believe you’re speaking out of term, Agent,” Jack glared at me. I clenched my jaw. “Now, I suggest you leave and calm down before I get angry.”

“One more thing, Sir,” I asked. He nodded. “I’ve spent almost a week with Will. I’ve watched his nightmares and his sleepwalking episodes. He doesn’t just wake up a little sweaty. He’s cried and broken down. He’s absolutely terrified... not of what he saw but he’s scared of his own mind. I can only help so much without your support and Dr. Lecter’s support. I’m sorry for overstepping but I don’t want him to fall over the edge for you.”

“Have a good day, Agent,” Jack said bluntly.

I stood up and walked out quickly, trying to hide any emotion that could’ve shown on my face.

“Agent (Y/l/n),” I turned around to face Hannibal. “I’m glad someone else said something. Jack has yet to listen to my suggestion that the field is hurting Will.”

“I was just looking out for him.”

“I can assure you,” Hannibal grabbed my arm as I tried to walk away. It was like he could sense how I felt about his work. “We are on the same mission here, (Y/n). We both just want to help.”

“I’m sure we are,” I faked a smile before turning and walking away. I just wish I knew what Hannibal was doing.

--Time Skip--

A few days later, I was standing in the waiting room of Hannibal’s office. I knew it was risky. Something deep in my stomach made me think that this was a dangerous situation to be in. I straightened my spine as the door of the office opened.

“Agent (Y/l/n), what a delightful surprise, come on in,” he stepped out of the way, letting me walk in.

I only walked in as far I had to in order to get through the door. I simply stepped to the side to let Hannibal shut it after me. 

“May I ask what this is about,” he asked, walking towards his desk.

“I want you to know that I’m not accusing you of anything and I’m just asking questions,” I explained before asking anything. “But my questions are going to be blunt... why are you manipulating Will?”

“Well, that certainly sounds like an accusation,” Hannibal chuckled. “Why do you think I’m manipulating him?”

“His episodes,” I said. “I know the work in the field has also harmed in but it all happened so fast. I just want the truth, Hannibal.”

For a moment, I thought I saw something similar to guilt flash across his face. It’s gone as soon as it’s there, “As far as I can tell, you love Will, yes?”

I nodded.

“You’re in love with him?”

I nodded again. 

“I promise that I don’t have any intention of harming Will,” he placed a hand on my shoulder. Deep in my gut, I didn’t believe what he was saying but I couldn’t argue with him because I didn’t have any evidence. “If I’m overstepping, or I’m doing more harm than good, tell me.”

“I will,” I said bluntly. “Never doubt that.”

“I’ll be sure not to,” he grinned. “I have a patient coming in soon. I do hope that I get to see you under better circumstances next time.”

“Me too,” I nodded once before turning around and walking out. 

I was terrified. Absolutely terrified. Especially because I didn’t know where to go from here.

--Time Skip--

“Hey,” I said as I walked into Will’s place. I scratched the dogs’ heads as I walked in. Will was standing there with his arms crossed. “You look like an angry parent.”

“Why the hell did you go talk to Jack,” he asked.

“Because you’re obviously not okay and I’m tired of waiting for him to notice,” I explained. “If you’re looking for an apology, you’re not going to get one.”

“Hannibal told me that you saw him too,” Will added. He took few steps closer to me. “He said that you admitted something interesting along with your question of whether he was manipulating me or not.”

“What was that,” I asked, trying to ignore the shock that I felt when Will held eye contact with me.

“That you loved me,” he said, stepping even closer. “That you were in love with me.”

“And if I were?”

“Being willing to sleep on my floor would make a lot of sense,” Will smirked. I think he had just noticed how close we actually were.

“Will,” I said softly. He hummed. “You’re making eye contact.”

“I know,” he replied, grinning at me. “Can I...”

I nodded. Will leaned down and kissed me gently. I felt my cheeks heat up as I carefully touched his sides. He cupped the sides of my face. I pulled back slowly, letting out a breathy, nervous laugh. Will smiled at me. 

“Will you... stay with me tonight,” Will asked, “not in the sleeping bag but next to me in the bed.”

“Sure,” I nodded. “Of course. Whenever you want.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled. “For everything.”

I grinned and kissed him again. I felt like my efforts had some value. I was doing something right. I was trying to help him... and he knew that.

And that meant everything to me.

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[pink-peony-princess]

Isn't She Lovely?

"Please, please go to sleep" I whispered desperately, as I rocked back and forth in the small room. Gracie our one month old daughter was distraught, I'd tried everything feeding her burping her, changing her, laying her down, rocking her and still she was crying. I was at the end of my wit and I really didn't know what to do. To make matters worse Shawn, the love of my life and husband of six months had gone out for the day with his little sister and even though he told me before he left to call if I needed abything, I was reluctant. This was his first full day off from work as an E.R. doctor in almost a month. Normally he'd spend the day with me and Gracie and he'd tried to do the same thing today, but I was insistent when his sister contacted him that he spend the day with her. The last thing I wanted was to get in the way of that.

But I was really starting to regret it now. It felt like no matter what I did, nothing would stop the unchecked sobs that left poor Gracie's mouth, her face was red and blotchy from the tears and her skin clammy from the force she was exuding.

"Sshh, sshh," I lulled, trying to comfort her, but it was no use, my voice could barely be heard over her cries. Finally I gave up, placing her in her crib which only caused her to cry harder and went down stairs to find the formula which we kept on hand for times like this when there was no other solution. For some reason she always seemed to settle when she was fed formula. Strange, maybe, but it worked, and I wasn't about to say no to something that might calm her down. We were both exhausted.

I made the bottle quickly rushing around the kitchen, conscious of the fact that she was upstairs squawking her little head off. I was just heading back up stairs when I remembered her dummy on the counter and turned back to get it,but there must have been water on the floor from when I was rinsing the bottle that I'd somehow missed, because the last thing I was aware of was falling and not being able to catch myself, whacking my head on the counter,landing harshly on the floor and then black.

The next thing I was aware of was the vague sound of a lock being turned and then a shadow in the doorway to the kitchen which I couldn't quite make out in my hazy state before a frantic voice yelled out, way to loudly for my pounding head,

"Shawn, you need to get in here now!"

There was the sound of quick footsteps, only making my head hurt more, before Shawn was squatting down so his face was level with mine. I had never seen him look as worried in all the time I'd known him than he did right now. His brows furrowed, mouth tipped slightly downwards as he studied me.

"Baby, what happened? Why is Gracie crying? Are you okay?" he fired question after question at me, but my brain was still too frazzled to take much in.It felt like when you wake up from an extra long nap and you're all disoriented. And all I could take in was pain, both my head and side were throbbing and I couldn't help but hold my side around my ribs in a weak attempt to stop it hurting.

The look of concern only grew at my silence. Finally the gravity of the situation actually hit me and it all came flooding back, Gracie's crying,my unsuccessful attempts to pacify her, the kitchen and my fall.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I sobbed into his chest, tears now streaming down my face. "It's okay baby, tell me what happend? Aaliyah would you go and get Gracie please?" he asked, looking up at her from the floor.

She nodded, and left the room quickly ,leaving us alone momentarily.

"I'm so sorry," I continued to mumble into his chest between sobs as Shawn rubbed soothing circles into my back, waiting patiently for me to calm down enough to explain what had happened. I must have looked like a complete mess.

"Baby, I'm not mad, I promise," he whispered leaning back again to look at me. "I'm just worried, you scared me so bad," he admitted, kissing the top of my head. "Now what happened?"

I just looked at him still feeling overwhelmed and guilty. How could I let this happen?

"Tell me what happend?" he whispered again, brushing the hair out of my face.

"I was coming down here to get the formula, she's been crying all day, and I'm so tired and sore Shawn!" I hiccupped.

"Why didn't you tell me, honey? You should have called or texted," he half scolded, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"And I feel so stupid, I can't even get my own baby to feed properly and she's crying all the time, and my scar is excruciating," I cried. My C-section scar had been hurting for a little over a week now and when I'd looked at it, it looked red and I knew it was probably infected, but I was too scared to do anything about it, so this was the first time Shawn was hearing about it.

"Hey, the last thing you are is stupid, I don't ever want to hear you say that again," he spoke fiercely. "You are the mother of my child and the love of my life." He kissed my hair softly.

"Can I have a look?" he asked, moving to lift my top up.

I nodded, letting him know it was okay.

He lifted the fabric and there was the scar looking more red and angry than ever.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me?" he asked searching my face. The worst part wasn't the pain I was in, but the fact that he looked genuinely hurt that I hadn't asked him for help. I really couldn't tell you what had stopped me, but the way he looked at me now made me feel so guity. I let out a whimper as he gently touched the area surrounding the wound testing for I don't know what.

"Baby this is infected. You'll need antibiotics and cream for this," he explained, moving to sit on the floor in front of me, taking my hands in his.

"Promise me next time, you'll tell me okay. Even if you think it's nothing okay. You know I'm always here for you." he squeezed my hands gently as he spoke. I nodded not trusting my voice as I felt a new wave of tears coming.

"I didn't want to worry you, you were out with Liyah, and I didn't want to bother you." I paused unsure of how to go on.

Thankfully he seemed to understand and broke the silence for me.

"You've knocked your head on something honey, you've got a small cut above your left eyebrow." He reached up to the bench grabbing the kitchen towel roll and tapping at my face gently, before showing me the red paper.

"It's not as bad as it could be, but I'll still need to clean it."

"I can do it," I insisted. He frowned, clearly disapproving. He knew I didn't like it when he went all medical on me.

"Lilah, no offense baby, but you're in no state to be doing anything medically related right now. You're clearly exhausted, you've hit your head and from the way you're holding your side I'd bet you've bruised a few ribs."

"Come on, let's go into the bathroom and we'll get you cleaned up and you can have a nice long bath, with some Epsom salts and I'll see about getting you on some antibiotics and cleaning your scar okay?" he smiled encouragingly.

I went to open my mouth, but he stopped me mid-word, holding his finger to my lips with a smile. "No buts, I know you don't like it when I worry, but it's my job, both as your husband and as a doctor, please let me do it."

He led me into the bathroom, helping me to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, before reaching up into the cabinet and pulling the giant first aid box down.

"You know," he spoke as he opened it up and surveyed the contents for a moment. "Asking for help doesn't make you a bad mum. If anything it'll make you an even better mum- if that's even possible," he smiled. "Because you will have the support there when you need it. Me your mum, my mum even are Aaliyah are all here for you Lilah."

I dropped my head as what he was saying sank in. I could have avoided all of this if I'd just swallowed my pride and asked for help.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again.

"Baby, you don't need to be sorry," he murmured coming over to stand in from of me holding what looked like cotton swabs. "Head up for me honey," he spoke, tapping under my chin with his pointer finger.

I lifted my head as he asked and made the mistake of looking him in the eye. That was all it took for another round of tears fuelled by exhaustion and humiliation to well up as I faught to stop them falling again.

"I'm just going to wipe the blood away so I can see the cut a little better okay?" he asked, stepping closer so his legs were on either side of mine. I nodded, trying to be brave.

Once he'd cleaned by head up and placed a plaster on it for good measure he turned his attention to my scar. "Lift your top for me again Princess?" he asked as he turned to get more cotton swabs, disinfectant and cream from the box.

"This is going to sting, I'm sorry honey," he warned as he poured the yellowish liquid onto one of the swabs and moved to pull the fabric of my shirt up further."Ready?" he asked, watching me carefully.

I nodded,clenching my fists. "Try to relax honey," he encouraged, dropping my shirt and placing a comforting hand on my thigh instead.

Sure enough as soon as the liquid came into contact with my skin I wanted to scream.

"Deep breathes Lilah," he encouraged as he wiped the area a few times. "Nearly done."

I tried my hardest to not move, but I couldn't help he whimper that slipped through my lips. Shawn frowned, his hand giving my thigh a slight squeeze.

"What do you want to have for dinner tonight bub? I could do Carbonara?" I knew he was trying to distract me from what he was doing, but I was greatful. It gave me something to do other than focus on the intense burning that was still eminating from my stomach.

"That would be nice," I smiled, I could feel my stomach rumbling at the thought.

"Okay, we'll do that and we can have a movie night how does that sound?" he asked as he finally removed the swab,and placed it in the bin.

"How you feeling Lilah?" Aaliyah asked a few minutes later, stepping into the bathroom as Shawn wiped some soothing care onto the area.

Gracie was now asleep in her arms, no hint of the earlier upset apparent on her face. She looked like a sleeping angel.

Shawn placed the cream on the counter and went over to take Gracie gently from his sister kissing her softly on the head as she fidgeted slightly getting comfortable in her daddy's arms. I could just make out him speaking softly to her, " I heard you've been giving your mommy a hard time little lady, maybe save that for when daddy's home so we can play two man defense," he whispered.

I couldn't help but laugh at the way he spoke as though she could understand everything he was saying.

"Hey, who said you could listen in, this is a private conversation between me and my girl." he hugged her closer to his chest a fake scowl on his face as she grabbed a fist full of his shirt in her sleep,

"She's half mine," I quipped back with a grin.

"Touche," he smiled, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a feather light touch watching as she scrunched it in response.

"How about you take a bath honey, I'll start getting dinner going," he suggested as he carefully passed Gracie back Aaliyah.

"But what about Gracie?" I asked.

"Her aunty has her hey baby," Aaliyah smiled down at Gracie from the doorway.

I smiled, I knew that between Aaliyah and Shawn they could handle her, so I nodded and they both left, though Shawn not before placing a soft kiss to my temple and whispering an "I love you."

...

It was several hours later and Shawn had made dinner and put Gracie down, Aaliyah having left leaving Shawn and I to cuddle on the sofa 10 things I hate about you playing softly on the T.V. though I was so tired from the day's events that I wasn't really paying attention to the movie, instead enjoying the warmth radiating from Shawn his soft breathing lulling me further into sleep.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell me," he murmured as he traced patterns into my thigh.

I sighed, snuggling into him more.

"It's okay, it's me, it's just all new, and I guess I wasn't expecting it to be so hard," I admitted.

"You know, I'm always here right, whenever you need me, my family comes before anything."

"I know." And I did know, Shawn was never exactly quiet about his love of protectiveness of us.

"You and Gracie are my life," he spoke.

Just as he said that a soft whine started from down the hallway signalling that she'd woken.

I sighed going to get up,"No," he spoke firmly, pushing me gently so I was forced back into my little cacoon on the sofa. "I'll go."

"Are you sure, I'm fine to get her," I started.

"Babe, you've had a tough day,let me look after my girls," he pleaded with the best puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen, even for him.

I nodded, letting him go, watching as he made his way down the hall and into our daughter's room.

A few moments later he returned, little Gracie in nothing but a nappy due to the hot summer night, her whines having turned into soft little grunts as she lay on Shawn's shoulder.

"Hi bubba," I sang as Shawn sat down again, moving her to his right shoulder so I could keep talking to her. "What are you doing up so late ha? You're gonna be so tired in the morning little lady." As if on cue she started crying again, more forcefully than before.

I sat up holding my hands out ready to take her, a reflex reaction, but Shawn shook his head "I wanna try something," he told me, shifting her slightly and unbuttoning his shirt to show his toned chest. Her placed Gracie down and as soon as her skin touched his she settled. I smiled, watching the cute scene unfold before me.

"She knows daddy's got her and it's all okay,hey baby," he cooed softly and unapologetically, rubbing firm comforting circles into her back. "I can't believe we made her," he whispered in awe minutes later when she'd fallen back to sleep, resting soundly on Shawn.

"I can, but isn't she lovely," I moved to ever so softly stroke her hair, it was like angel's hair, still perfect,she was perfect, still so innocent, oblivious to the big bad world outside our perfect little family.

"She's the most lovely girl in the world, she takes after her mommy like that," Shawn smiled, turning to peak me on the lips. And in that moment I felt that everything in the world was right. That no matter what happened I would always have my perfect little family and that was all I needed.

[hood-ex]

for prompt: dick + jason (+ maybe cass?) doing Peak Older Sibling thing of getting tipsy together and complaining about Kids These Days even though they're like in their twenties

Read on AO3

Dick knows it’s time to leave the art show when he’s nearly finished his third glass of champagne. He feels all the warm and bubbly effects from it, and he’s sure that Cass—wherever she is—is probably feeling the same way. 

His only problem now is that he’s got to figure out where Cass went. He thinks the last time he saw her is when she disappeared upstairs to the second floor. There’s a projector up there playing a video about god knows what, and Dick has a feeling Cass went up there to watch it to take a people break.  

He downs the last of his drink and hands the empty glass off to one of the passing by staff workers before he sets off on his search. He wanders past the wall of paintings he already looked at earlier in the night and heads for the stairs.

A few socialites he’s familiar with from past Wayne galas come up to him and try to stop him for a chat. Dick quickly shakes their hands and schmoozes with them a little for appearance’s sake. He tries to keep things short and polite because he really doesn’t want to get caught up in a thirty-minute conversation. 

Thankfully, most people seem to be just as tired and hungry as he is, and they easily let him go when he offhandedly mentions needing to find his sister.

Dick’s halfway up the stairs when he sees Cass appear at the top with slightly flushed cheeks. Her glittery black dress catches in the light and makes her look like a pretty jewel. She smiles at him when their eyes meet, and Dick has to hold back a laugh at the way she throws a hand up and waves at him. He can tell he was right about her being just as tipsy as him. 

“Hey!” Dick says excitedly as he finishes walking up to her. He holds up his hand and she high fives him hard enough to make his hand sting. “Ready to go?” he asks, and this time he holds his arm out for her to grab on to so she won’t trip down the stairs in her heels. Not that he can imagine Cass doing something so clumsy, but, well, better to be safe than sorry. 

“I’ve been ready,” Cass says a little too loudly, making Dick wince. She links her arm with his, and they slowly make it back to the ground floor without incident. 

Dick’s hand brushes Cass’s wrist when they let go of each other, and he frowns at how cold she is. He knows that even though it’s pretty chilly outside, Cass had decided to just wear her sweater inside the art show. She had left her heavier jacket in his car, not wanting to carry it around the show for hours. He wishes she would’ve said something about it so she could’ve grabbed her jacket from his car instead of silently freezing throughout the night. 

He shrugs out of his blazer and drapes it around her shoulders. “One warm jacket for the tiny dancer. Need anything else, Miss?”

Cass smiles and slides her arms through the sleeves. She hugs herself close like she’s trying to absorb as much of his leftover body heat as possible. 

“I could go for some burgers and fries,” she says as she grabs him by the wrist and tugs him towards the exit. 

“Sounds like we’re singing the same tune,” Dick grins and pushes open the door for her to walk through first. “Let’s stop by my car and get your jacket first. We can find somewhere around here to walk to.”

Cass’s brow furrows. “Singing the... what?” She takes the lead and walks alongside the part of the sidewalk that’s not lit up by the street lights. Dick ignores the goosebumps that appear on his arms from the sudden breeze. He follows close behind her and subtly scans the parking lot where his car is parked for any potential danger. 

“It means we have the same idea. Like we’re on the same page.”

“Oh!” she says, and Dick quickly realizes that tipsy Cass has a volume control problem, which is a little ironic when he thinks about it. “Yes, we’re totally singing the same tune!” Dick laughs and holds his hand out for another high five. Cass eyes it for a second before smacking his hand even harder. 

“You thinking Bat Burger or somewhere else?”

Cass hums. “You ever been to the Bluehouse Bar?”

“No,” Dick says. “Have you?”

“Yeah, once. It was pretty good!”

Dick nods and tries not to look too judgy about her choice. The bar he used to bartend at in Bludhaven ruined his perception of bar food, but maybe this place in Gotham won’t be so bad. Plus, Cass is rarely wrong, and Dick’s willing to trust her opinion on it. 

“Is that where you want to go then?” Dick asks right as they make it to his car. 

“Yup, I feel like it’s the place to be tonight,” Cass says, and Dick unlocks the door for her. 

Dick laughs and lightly whacks her shoulder with the back of his hand. “Are you quoting Harry Potter at me? Is that what’s happening right now?”

“Maybe,” Cass says, voice muffled while she dips inside the car and fishes for her jacket in the back seat. 

Dick patiently waits as she switches out his suit jacket for her own jacket, and once she’s properly zipped herself up, she tosses his jacket back to him. Dick easily slides into it, feeling much better now that he’s not as cold. 

This time Cass is the one that offers her arm to him and smirks as she says, “One warm jacket for the rocket man. Need anything else, Sir?”

“Yeah,” Dick says and hooks his arm under hers. “Directions on how to get there.”

Cass tugs him forward and says, “Follow me.”

The walk to the bar only ends up being about two blocks away, which isn’t too bad. Dick’s nose is feeling a little frozen. He can tell by Cass’s pink cheeks that she’s feeling chilled as well, but they’ve both dealt with way worse conditions while on patrol to actually complain about it. 

Dick can tell why this place is called the Bluehouse Bar as soon as they step inside. The whole place is lit up by blue lights that reflect off the black chairs and tabletops. Even the white napkins and plates on the tables look like they’re glowing with a blue tint. 

The lights combined with the loud music and chatter makes everything a little disorienting. Dick’s still trying to get his eyes to adjust to the room when Cass suddenly grips his shoulder and leans close to his ear and says, “Look, it’s Jason!” 

Dick whips his head around to where Cass is staring, and sure enough, Jason’s sitting at a table of four by himself, browsing through the menu in his hands. There’s an empty glass of beer in front of him that suggests he’s been here for a while. The Gotham Knights are playing ball on one of the TVs, and Dick has a suspicion that Jason probably came here to watch the game before patrol. 

Jason’s wearing his cargo pants and boots. His signature leather jacket is zipped up all the way up to cover the bat emblem on his chest. Dick imagines Jason’s motorcycle is probably parked nearby and has the rest of his Red Hood gear in it.

Cass seems a little tense next to him, and Dick knows it’s because she really doesn’t like Jason that much. They’ve never gotten along for obvious reasons, and Cass only tolerates him when she has to. Dick can hardly remember them even having a conversation beyond “Can you pass the salt?” when they’re all eating breakfast together at the manor once a week. 

He’s just about to ask Cass if she wants to go when Jason suddenly looks up and stares right at them. A look of surprise flashes across Jason’s face, and he blinks a few times as if making sure that Dick and Cass are the real deal.  

Dick waves without really thinking about it, and Jason responds by motioning for them to come sit at his table. 

Cass’s eyes widen slightly like she wants to do anything but that, and Dick flashes her an apologetic look before gently placing his hand on her back and steering her towards Jason’s table. It’s not like they can just ignore Jason and expect him not to take offense to it. Dick’s not willing to make weekly breakfast more awkward than it already is. 

“Hey Jay,” Dick says once he’s close enough to the table. He holds his hand up expectantly. Jason eyes it like it’s a rat on fire before he slowly high fives Dick back. 

“Hey,” Jason says, and his eyes jump from Cass’s dress to Dick’s suit. “Where the hell did you two just come from?”

Dick lets Cass have the seat between himself and Jason so that she can watch the door more easily, and he takes the seat across from Jason that puts his own back against the door. 

“Went to an art show for B and bought some new paintings for the children’s hospital,” Dick says, snagging the menu from Jason and putting it on the table between him and Cass so they can figure out what they want to eat. 

“I guess my invite got lost in the mail as per usual,” Jason says. 

“You wouldn’t have gone anyway,” Cass says, and Jason recoils at her loud tone.  

“Still, I’d like to be asked,” Jason huffs, eyeing Cass warily. 

“Will you guys eat the mozzarella sticks if I get them as an appetizer?” Dick asks. The picture of the gooey cheese sticks on the menu makes Dick’s mouth water, and while he’s definitely going to get a burger, he thinks he can make enough room in his stomach for a few mozzarella sticks.

Cass signs “yes” with her fist at the same time that Jason says, “Fuck yeah I will as long as you’re paying.”

“If I’m paying then I get first dibs,” Dick declares.

“Fine.” Jason rolls his eyes and slumps in his seat. “You two better be ready to order as soon as the waitress gets back. She doesn’t come around much.”

“You’re telling me,” Dick says while enviously eyeing the waiter who’s taking people’s orders at the table across from theirs. 

All of a sudden, Dick feels a finger tapping against his shoulder. He tenses and turns in his seat. A young looking woman with blonde hair is standing behind him. The silver bangles around her wrist jingle as she nervously pushes her long hair out of her face. Dick can see that she’s looking back and forth between him and Cass. 

“Hi! Sorry for interrupting!” she says. “But are you Dick Wayne and Cassandra Wayne?”

Jason snorts so loud that Dick’s surprised he doesn’t give himself an aneurysm. 

“Dick Wayne,” Jason wheezes quietly, and the girl blushes furiously as if realizing her mistake. 

“Don’t mind him,” Dick says. He places his hand on the girl’s shoulder and gives it a little squeeze to soothe her embarrassment. “Trust me, I’ve been called worse,” he smiles. She blushes again for a whole different reason this time. Dick ignores it and eyes her phone in her hand. “Did you want a picture?” 

“Oh my god, yeah, if you wouldn’t mind that would be great!” 

“Sure thing,” Dick says, taking her phone from her. “What’s your name?” 

“Brooke,” the girl says.

“Hi, Brooke! I love your dress,” Cass says in that cool way of hers, and Brooke stutters out her thanks. 

“Don’t forget to turn on the flash,” Dick says as he tosses the phone to Jason, who catches it with a squawk. 

Dick drapes his arm around Brooke’s shoulders while Cass wraps her arm around Brooke’s waist. They all smile, and Jason begrudgingly takes a few pictures of them. Dick’s pretty sure he hears Jason making a comment under his breath about being happy he’s considered dead to the world so he doesn’t have to go through this shit, and then the pictures are done. 

Jason hands the phone back over and Brooke thanks him. Dick expects her to go back to her table, but instead, she asks, “Hey, would you guys want to be in my TikTok?”

“What’s TikTok?” Cass signs to Jason. 

Jason starts to explain it to her in ASL, clearly leaving Dick to deal with Brooke. 

“Sorry, we’re not allowed to,” Dick lies. “I hope you understand.”

“Oh totally, yeah,” Brooke says with a nod of her head. She looks a little confused about why they’re apparently not allowed to do TikToks, but she doesn’t question it. “No worries! Just thought I’d ask!” She smiles and Dick smiles back at her. “Thanks for the pictures! I love you guys!”

“No problem,” Dick says, holding his hand up to her. Brooke high fives him back, her touch gentle like she’s scared of hurting him. “Bye!”

Brooke waves to them all and then finally leaves their table. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Jason crosses his arms over his chest and says, “What’s up with kids and TikTok these days? Do you know how many people have cosplayed as me and made me do dumb shit like the renegade dance? Or worse... the whip! The whip, Dick! The whip!”

“Poor you,” Dick laughs. “Forced to do trendy dances that sully your reputation.” 

“Shut up,” Jason huffs. “Pretty sure I saw one of Nightwing doing the WAP challenge.” 

Dick raises a brow and says, “I have no idea what that means.”

He sees Cass perk up out of the corner of his eye and realizes why as soon as he sees a waitress coming towards them. 

“Finally,” Cass mutters.

Dick grabs her hand excitedly and shakes it back and forth. 

“Mozzarella sticks here we come!”

[pinkpeonyprincessblog]

Isn't She Lovely?

"Please, please go to sleep" I whispered desperately, as I rocked back and forth in the small room. Gracie our one month old daughter was distraught, I'd tried everything feeding her burping her, changing her, laying her down, rocking her and still she was crying. I was at the end of my wit and I really didn't know what to do. To make matters worse Shawn, the love of my life and husband of six months had gone out for the day with his little sister and even though he told me before he left to call if I needed abything, I was reluctant. This was his first full day off from work as an E.R. doctor in almost a month. Normally he'd spend the day with me and Gracie and he'd tried to do the same thing today, but I was insistent when his sister contacted him that he spend the day with her. The last thing I wanted was to get in the way of that.

But I was really starting to regret it now. It felt like no matter what I did, nothing would stop the unchecked sobs that left poor Gracie's mouth, her face was red and blotchy from the tears and her skin clammy from the force she was exuding.

"Sshh, sshh," I lulled, trying to comfort her, but it was no use, my voice could barely be heard over her cries. Finally I gave up, placing her in her crib which only caused her to cry harder and went down stairs to find the formula which we kept on hand for times like this when there was no other solution. For some reason she always seemed to settle when she was fed formula. Strange, maybe, but it worked, and I wasn't about to say no to something that might calm her down. We were both exhausted.

I made the bottle quickly rushing around the kitchen, conscious of the fact that she was upstairs squawking her little head off. I was just heading back up stairs when I remembered her dummy on the counter and turned back to get it,but there must have been water on the floor from when I was rinsing the bottle that I'd somehow missed, because the last thing I was aware of was falling and not being able to catch myself, whacking my head on the counter,landing harshly on the floor and then black.

The next thing I was aware of was the vague sound of a lock being turned and then a shadow in the doorway to the kitchen which I couldn't quite make out in my hazy state before a frantic voice yelled out, way to loudly for my pounding head,

"Shawn, you need to get in here now!"

There was the sound of quick footsteps, only making my head hurt more, before Shawn was squatting down so his face was level with mine. I had never seen him look as worried in all the time I'd known him than he did right now. His brows furrowed, mouth tipped slightly downwards as he studied me.

"Baby, what happened? Why is Gracie crying? Are you okay?" he fired question after question at me, but my brain was still too frazzled to take much in.It felt like when you wake up from an extra long nap and you're all disoriented. And all I could take in was pain, both my head and side were throbbing and I couldn't help but hold my side around my ribs in a weak attempt to stop it hurting.

The look of concern only grew at my silence. Finally the gravity of the situation actually hit me and it all came flooding back, Gracie's crying,my unsuccessful attempts to pacify her, the kitchen and my fall.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I sobbed into his chest, tears now streaming down my face. "It's okay baby, tell me what happend? Aaliyah would you go and get Gracie please?" he asked, looking up at her from the floor.

She nodded, and left the room quickly,leaving us alone momentarily.

"I'm so sorry," I continued to mumble into his chest between sobs as Shawn rubbed soothing circles into my back, waiting patiently for me to calm down enough to explain what had happened. I must have looked like a complete mess.

"Baby, I'm not mad, I promise," he whispered leaning back again to look at me. "I'm just worried, you scared me so bad," he admitted, kissing the top of my head. "Now what happened?"

I just looked at him still feeling overwhelmed and guilty. How could I let this happen?

"Tell me what happend?" he whispered again, brushing the hair out of my face.

"I was coming down here to get the formula, she's been crying all day,and I'm so tired and sore Shawn!" I hiccupped.

"Why didn't you tell me, honey? You should have called or texted," he half scolded, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"And I feel so stupid, I can't even get my own baby to feed properly and she's crying all the time, and my scar is excruciating," I cried. My C-section scar had been hurting for a little over a week now and when I'd looked at it, it looked red and I knew it was probably infected, but I was too scared to do anything about it, so this was the first time Shawn was hearing about it.

"Hey, the last thing you are is stupid, I don't ever want to hear you say that again," he spoke fiercely. "You are the mother of my child and the love of my life." He kissed my hair softly.

"Can I have a look?" he asked, moving to lift my top up.

I nodded, letting him know it was okay.

He lifted the fabric and there was the scar looking more red and angry than ever.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me?" he asked searching my face. The worst part wasn't the pain I was in, but the fact that he looked genuinely hurt that I hadn't asked him for help. I really couldn't tell you what had stopped me, but the way he looked at me now made me feel so guity. I let out a whimper as he gently touched the area surrounding the wound testing for I don't know what.

"Baby this is infected. You'll need antibiotics and cream for this," he explained, moving to sit on the floor in front of me, taking my hands in his.

"Promise me next time, you'll tell me okay. Even if you think it's nothing okay. You know I'm always here for you." he squeezed my hands gently as he spoke. I nodded not trusting my voice as I felt a new wave of tears coming.

"I didn't want to worry you, you were out with Liyah, and I didn't want to bother you." I paused unsure of how to go on.

Thankfully he seemed to understand and broke the silence for me.

"You've knocked your head on something honey, you've got a small cut above your left eyebrow." He reached up to the bench grabbing the kitchen towel roll and tapping at my face gently, before showing me the red paper.

"It's not as bad as it could be, but I'll still need to clean it."

"I can do it," I insisted. He frowned, clearly disapproving. He knew I didn't like it when he went all medical on me.

"Lilah, no offense baby, but you're in no state to be doing anything medically related right now. You're clearly exhausted, you've hit your head and from the way you're holding your side I'd bet you've bruised a few ribs."

"Come on, let's go into the bathroom and we'll get you cleaned up and you can have a nice long bath, with some Epsom salts and I'll see about getting you on some antibiotics and cleaning your scar okay?" he smiled encouragingly.

I went to open my mouth, but he stopped me mid-word, holding his finger to my lips with a smile. "No buts, I know you don't like it when I worry, but it's my job, both as your husband and as a doctor, please let me do it."

He led me into the bathroom, helping me to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, before reaching up into the cabinet and pulling the giant first aid box down.

"You know," he spoke as he opened it up and surveyed the contents for a moment. "Asking for help doesn't make you a bad mum. If anything it'll make you an even better mum- if that's even possible," he smiled. "Because you will have the support there when you need it. Me your mum, my mum even are Aaliyah are all here for you Lilah."

I dropped my head as what he was saying sank in. I could have avoided all of this if I'd just swallowed my pride and asked for help.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again.

"Baby, you don't need to be sorry," he murmured coming over to stand in from of me holding what looked like cotton swabs. "Head up for me honey," he spoke, tapping under my chin with his pointer finger.

I lifted my head as he asked and made the mistake of looking him in the eye. That was all it took for another round of tears fuelled by exhaustion and humiliation to well up as I faught to stop them falling again.

"I'm just going to wipe the blood away so I can see the cut a little better okay?" he asked, stepping closer so his legs were on either side of mine. I nodded, trying to be brave.

Once he'd cleaned by head up and placed a plaster on it for good measure he turned his attention to my scar. "Lift your top for me again Princess?" he asked as he turned to get more cotton swabs, disinfectant and cream from the box.

"This is going to sting, I'm sorry honey," he warned as he poured the yellowish liquid onto one of the swabs and moved to pull the fabric of my shirt up further."Ready?" he asked, watching me carefully.

I nodded,clenching my fists. "Try to relax honey," he encouraged, dropping my shirt and placing a comforting hand on my thigh instead.

Sure enough as soon as the liquid came into contact with my skin I wanted to scream.

"Deep breathes Lilah," he encouraged as he wiped the area a few times. "Nearly done."

I tried my hardest to not move, but I couldn't help he whimper that slipped through my lips. Shawn frowned, his hand giving my thigh a slight squeeze.

"What do you want to have for dinner tonight bub? I could do Carbonara?" I knew he was trying to distract me from what he was doing, but I was greatful. It gave me something to do other than focus on the intense burning that was still eminating from my stomach.

"That would be nice," I smiled, I could feel my stomach rumbling at the thought.

"Okay, we'll do that and we can have a movie night how does that sound?" he asked as he finally removed the swab,and placed it in the bin.

"How you feeling Lilah?" Aaliyah asked a few minutes later, stepping into the bathroom as Shawn wiped some soothing care onto the area.

Gracie was now asleep in her arms, no hint of the earlier upset apparent on her face. She looked like a sleeping angel.

Shawn placed the cream on the counter and went over to take Gracie gently from his sister kissing her softly on the head as she fidgeted slightly getting comfortable in her daddy's arms. I could just make out him speaking softly to her, " I heard you've been giving your mommy a hard time little lady, maybe save that for when daddy's home so we can play two man defense," he whispered.

I couldn't help but laugh at the way he spoke as though she could understand everything he was saying.

"Hey, who said you could listen in, this is a private conversation between me and my girl." he hugged her closer to his chest a fake scowl on his face as she grabbed a fist full of his shirt in her sleep,

"She's half mine," I quipped back with a grin.

"Touche," he smiled, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a feather light touch watching as she scrunched it in response.

"How about you take a bath honey, I'll start getting dinner going," he suggested as he carefully passed Gracie back Aaliyah.

"But what about Gracie?" I asked.

"Her aunty has her hey baby," Aaliyah smiled down at Gracie from the doorway.

I smiled, I knew that between Aaliyah and Shawn they could handle her, so I nodded and they both left, though Shawn not before placing a soft kiss to my temple and whispering an "I love you."

...

It was several hours later and Shawn had made dinner and put Gracie down, Aaliyah having left leaving Shawn and I to cuddle on the sofa 10 things I hate about you playing softly on the T.V. though I was so tired from the day's events that I wasn't really paying attention to the movie, instead enjoying the warmth radiating from Shawn his soft breathing lulling me further into sleep.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell me," he murmured as he traced patterns into my thigh.

I sighed, snuggling into him more.

"It's okay, it's me, it's just all new, and I guess I wasn't expecting it to be so hard," I admitted.

"You know, I'm always here right, whenever you need me, my family comes before anything."

"I know." And I did know, Shawn was never exactly quiet about his love of protectiveness of us.

"You and Gracie are my life," he spoke.

Just as he said that a soft whine started from down the hallway signalling that she'd woken.

I sighed going to get up,"No," he spoke firmly, pushing me gently so I was forced back into my little cacoon on the sofa. "I'll go."

"Are you sure, I'm fine to get her," I started.

"Babe, you've had a tough day,let me look after my girls," he pleaded with the best puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen, even for him.

I nodded, letting him go, watching as he made his way down the hall and into our daughter's room.

A few moments later he returned, little Gracie in nothing but a nappy due to the hot summer night, her whines having turned into soft little grunts as she lay on Shawn's shoulder.

"Hi bubba," I sang as Shawn sat down again, moving her to his right shoulder so I could keep talking to her. "What are you doing up so late ha? You're gonna be so tired in the morning little lady." As if on cue she started crying again, more forcefully than before.

I sat up holding my hands out ready to take her, a reflex reaction, but Shawn shook his head "I wanna try something," he told me, shifting her slightly and unbuttoning his shirt to show his toned chest. Her placed Gracie down and as soon as her skin touched his she settled. I smiled, watching the cute scene unfold before me.

"She knows daddy's got her and it's all okay,hey baby," he cooed softly and unapologetically, rubbing firm comforting circles into her back. "I can't believe we made her," he whispered in awe minutes later when she'd fallen back to sleep, resting soundly on Shawn.

"I can, but isn't she lovely," I moved to ever so softly stroke her hair, it was like angel's hair, still perfect,she was perfect, still so innocent, oblivious to the big bad world outside our perfect little family.

"She's the most lovely girl in the world, she takes after her mommy like that," Shawn smiled, turning to peak me on the lips. And in that moment I felt that everything in the world was right. That no matter what happened I would always have my perfect little family and that was all I needed.

[shijiujun]

tell me baby

A gratuitous sick fic for Inspector Qiao, and he finally eats from the spoon Lu Yao offers him because third time’s the charm - Inspired by this gifset

===

It’s a slow day at the station today with all their leads dried up, but Youning and Lu Yao are investigating outside right now and Chusheng doesn’t doubt that the both of them will turn up with new evidence soon enough, if not have the whole case solved when they return at the end of the day.

There isn’t much to do but to sign some papers and ensure everything is properly documented. When Boss Bai first asked him to be Inspector, Chusheng hadn’t quite thought about the ridiculous amount of paperwork that passes through his hands every single day. 

Still, his tasks for the day don’t take much physical activity, but seated in his chair at his table, it takes everything Chusheng has to concentrate.

His limbs are numb for some reason, and every single movement makes some part of his body ache. It’s not like they’re in the deep of winter or even anywhere near autumn, so there’s no reason for him to be feeling this cold.

Exhaling shakily, he wonders just what the hell is wrong with him today.

Chusheng swallows with difficulty, his throat bobbing with the action. Glancing at the empty mug at the corner of his table, Chusheng is certain he just took a large gulp of water, so why is his throat this parched?

“… Inspector? Inspector Qiao?” asks Ah Dou, who’s standing in front of him with a confused look on his face, “Are you… okay?”

He doesn’t feel okay, but Chusheng doesn’t know why he would feel anything but.

“Hnn,” he makes a noise of assent, clearing his throat with a frown. “Just leave it there, I’ll look at it later.”

He’s finding it a little hard to breathe and with frustration, Chusheng tugs at his tie, loosening it. Ah Dou still hasn’t left, staring at him with his brows furrowed.

“What’re you still doing here?” asks Chusheng, leaning into his chair. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yeah but… Inspector, you really don’t look so good,” Ah Dou persists, which is very unlike him. “I think you should go to the hospital if you’re feeling unwell-“

“You’re not usually this nosy,” sighs Chusheng, sounding more tired than reproachful. “I just have a headache. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll get you a cup of warm water then,” Ah Dou says, oddly considerate today, but Chusheng isn’t lying about the headache, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Standing as Ah Dou picks up his mug and starts to walk in the direction of the coffee table where the water flask is, Chusheng begins, “Ah Dou, I don’t need-“

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because he’s keeling over in the next moment, nearly braining himself on the surface of the table if his hip didn’t strike against its edge first, and he lands in a messy pile on the floor instead. The ceiling slants above him, and gosh, he’s so fucking thirsty-

Someone is calling for him, but he can barely hear anything outside of the ringing in his ears. As dark spots fill his vision, Chusheng thinks maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to skip a trip to the hospital yesterday night after that ambush at the docks.

Right before he slips under, all he remembers is promising Lu Yao that he would pay for five baguettes today.

===

“Are you an idiot? Did you not bring your brains out to work today?” is the first thing he hears when he wakes up.

Disoriented, Chusheng blearily surveys his surroundings, dazed. He’s floating a little and everything seems overly yellow and green, and it feels like he’s been asleep for a little too long. He doesn’t usually sleep in, always up at the crack of dawn to train and keep in shape.

Turning to the side slowly, that’s when Chusheng sees San Tu seated in a chair next… next to his bed.

The man looks displeased, his arms crossed over his chest and looking more petulant than angry, and Chusheng knows he’s in trouble.

If he tells anyone that he, Qiao Chusheng, one of the Eight Martial Arts Masters of Shanghai, is a little cowed by Lu Yao’s frown, they would surely laugh at him.

Memories of how he landed in the hospital resurface in his head. Chusheng looks towards the glass pitcher at the bedside table, and luckily Lu Yao isn’t too angry to ignore him. The man pours him a glass of water, before helping him to sit up a little, fluffing the pillows behind his back as Chusheng drinks slowly but liberally, because he’s really, really thirsty.

“How long have you been doing this?” Lu Yao asks then.

Confused, Chusheng blinks, “Doing what?”

“This is just like that time, when Zhi Qing-ge kidnapped me and you rescued me but refused to tell me!” Lu Yao snaps, and Chusheng winces. “At least you went to the hospital then with Youning. Guess what the doctor said to me earlier? That the wound on your right side was infected because you didn’t treat it properly and it was continuously bleeding when it needed stitches!”

“You said you didn’t get hurt in last night’s raid,” Lu Yao says, glaring at him.

“I-“ Chusheng begins, but Lu Yao cuts him off, “And then the doctor says you’ve got other scars on your body that look rather recent, ones that even Youning didn’t know you had. How long has this been going on?”

“San Tu,” Chusheng sighs, “It’s okay. This is nothing-“

“Nothing? Ah Dou freaked out when you fainted on him earlier! What were you thinking? He said you looked unwell all morning and refused to listen to him when he asked you to rest. Qiao Chusheng, do you think this is a joke?”

It’s not the time or place for this, but hearing Lu Yao utter his full name for the first time, Chusheng feels a chill run down his spine. No one has ever dared to call him out like this.

He likes the way his name sounds on Lu Yao’s lips and how angry his San Tu looks right now.

Clearing his throat, Chusheng musters a smile instead, “San Tu… I’m used to this. I just miscalculated and I’ll be more careful next time. Don’t be angry. I’m the patient here, you know.”

“Next time?” Lu Yao asks, incredulous. “You’re thinking of a next time?”

Knowing that Lu Yao will probably go on if he doesn’t do something, Chusheng reaches out and tugs at Lu Yao’s arm until the man sits down quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Chusheng repeats, and frankly, part of him is a little touched that Lu Yao is so angry at him. He’s never had anyone angry at him for something like this.

“San Tu, if you don’t stop yelling, the nurses are going to come in and-“

“Chusheng-ge!” a yell comes, and both men flinch.

Lu Yao sits back and relaxes as Youning storms in. Chusheng pales, and his hand raises as if to facepalm, but Youning is quicker. She looks ready to give Chusheng hell on Lu Yao’s behalf too, and that she does.

===

Lu Yao, when he’s not distracted by antique wares or expensive restaurants or his English books, is a pretty self-sufficient person who can take care of himself. He’s a little vain, timid and dumb on some counts, but the man can cook very well, knows how to clean up after himself in a way that Youning still forgets to sometimes.

Chusheng himself can cook, but he eats takeout or heads back to Boss Bai’s house for the occasional meal more often than not, so when he wakes up next to the aroma of pork ribs and old cucumber soup, he has to pause for a moment.

“You’re awake,” Lu Yao says, glancing at him with narrowed eyes, probably still pissed off that Chusheng tried to hide his injuries from him. “Eat up. The doctor said you should have some soup.”

“Where’s Youning?” he mumbles, still groggy from the drugs and this is exactly why he hates hospitals.

“She went back home first, she’s got a draft to rush out tonight. This soup was on the stove for more than four hours. Man-jie told me that I should cook it under a smaller fire for more than three hours, so you should try it.”

Lu Yao scoops out a spoonful and blows gently at it, before bringing it to Chusheng’s lips.

When the man simple stares at him, Lu Yao glares, “Why would you- you don’t want to eat again? I cooked this myself when I could have been sleeping and even Youning helped to stare at the fire for an hour, and you still don’t want it-“

Chusheng cuts him off mid-rant, leaning forward and eating from the proffered spoon obediently.

“… how is it?”

“Hnn,” Chusheng hums, looking at anything but Lu Yao, “It’s passable.”

Suddenly, Chusheng realizes how close Lu Yao is next to him seated on the bed. He’s not used to being in Lu Yao’s care- or anyone’s care for that matter, and this whole thing is jarring, to say in the least.

“Passable?” Lu Yao scoffs, but scoops up another spoonful for Chusheng anyway.

Chusheng bends his head to reach the spoon again, and at the last moment, it dawns on him again how strange this whole thing is. He moves back, saying, “I can eat on my own-“

His eyes go wide as Lu Yao ducks in and kisses him, cutting him off. Chusheng can swear his mind goes blank.

When Lu Yao finally pulls away, there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, and he’s not looking at Chusheng either. Clearing his throat, he puts the bowl into Chusheng’s hands.

“You should finish the soup,” Lu Yao says, picking up his jacket from where it is lying over the chair, “I’ll settle your discharge with the doctors.”

Chusheng looks up, blinking, “San Tu-“

“And you better not do this again,” Lu Yao finally meets his eyes again, though the blush doesn’t go away, “Youning and I are going to check you over after every fight. You better not hide another injury from us again, and I’m dragging you over to the hospital if you so much as have a cut!”

That seems a little of an overkill, but Chusheng can’t help but smile.

“And if I don’t listen to you?”

Lu Yao blinks. “Then- Then I’m never-“

“Never going to kiss me again?”

“Never going to make soup for you again,” Lu Yao enunciates firmly, but his ears are now red too as he turns on his heels quickly to escape the room.

Chusheng laughs to himself, shaking his head. Licking at his lips, he wonders if Lu Yao would give him a repeat performance later, but he supposes they have all the time in the world for that now.

===

The next time they get caught in a shootout, as promised, Lu Yao and Youning (and even Ah Dou, hovering a few feet away and trying not to get caught looking at him) make him take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves and lift his shirt a bit to show that he’s fine.

The rest of the officers pretend they’re not looking, even though a shirtless Chusheng at the station is nothing new.

Of course, when they get home, Chusheng lets Lu Yao do a close-up inspection.

In the privacy of their room of course, so that Lu Yao can inspect every inch of his body thoroughly.

[harry-leroy]

So this is the next little part of that earlier George Warleggan fic in that Dwight rescues him from the asylum AU - because it’s a thing I keep adding onto and I figured I would post some of it for y’all to enjoy. Also enjoy some Caroline/Horace content because this is my AU fic and I make the rules 😤 Going to tag @ticketybooser , @forcebros , and @upstartpoodle because y’all are all wonderful! (And might get something out of this, who knows). Leaving under the cut for angst + length!

Dwight was sure to sit on the same side as George in the carriage, the one that moved in a forward facing direction. The last thing he needed was to feel more disoriented than he already was. George leaned his head on the side of the car, his eyes looking out of the window without much focus. The midday light reflected in his pale eyes. Dwight sat with an impatient air, rolling his ankle around, then switching to the other and repeating the motion. The sooner they could get George off the road, the better.

Dwight’s patient looked nothing like his former self, almost to the point of him becoming unrecognizable. He appeared more like a poor, working miner than a former member of Parliament or one about to be given a knighthood. His coat was tattered and worn, and whatever could be seen of his shirt underneath was also in rough condition. Dwight himself was wearing what he had been wearing the day before when he had taken George out of the hospital, and was looking tired. A little worse for the wear, but not as bad as George had been. The night before had been long for the both of them.

It was what made Caroline feel all the more out of place as she sat on the other side of the carriage. Even as she wore what she felt to be a rather modest gown for the journey, there was an air of awkwardness about it. She had decided to come along for the sake of the occasion appearing as a normal outing rather than a discreet attempt to return a former asylum patient back to his family. If a passerby saw her from the carriage window, there was no reason to question. Dwight had reluctantly agreed, knowing that her presence would probably help in the long run, but he could feel how distanced George was from them.

Perhaps it was Horace in her arms that made it even worse. A young heiress holding her little dog as she sat across the most wretched looking soul she had ever laid eyes upon - quite the image. Horace had been quiet for most of the trip, occasionally sustaining a low growl when George shifted a little. The dog had scared George, with its beady eyes and barking. The sharp noises were like being beaten. With every sound, George shrank further back into himself. At every turn of his head, he feared Penrose. It produced an odd stiffness in him. However, he soon forced himself to tolerate the presence of the creature. Fear would be punished- a phrase his aching bones knew by heart.

“We’ll stop at Killewarren and stay the night,” Dwight said softly, both to Caroline and to George. “George needs a break from travel and I will need to pack for a stay at Trenwith,”

“You’re staying at Trenwith?” Caroline questioned.

Dwight said nothing, only gave her a look that prompted her to look once again at George. She then gave her husband a slight nod before turning her head to gaze out of the window.

George took the opportunity to study her in her moment of distraction. He slowly turned wild blue eyes over towards her, deciding that he liked her dress, which was a light blue with cream colored floral patterns. It was the kind of dress Elizabeth would like. All too quickly, however, his eyes met with the black, shaking marbles of Horace’s eyes. The dog let out a sharp bark and George nearly jumped out of his own skin.

“Horace!” Caroline turned back to the dog, shushing him, though he continued to growl.

George said nothing, and it was almost as if he had forgotten how to speak. The only words he could readily remember were ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’t’, and ‘help’. Other words came out by chance, but those four he knew with a quick and ready mind. There was Elizabeth of course. He would never forget her name, but he found he could no longer speak to her as he once had. Whatever he did say was far too incoherent. Now, as he stared at this woman’s dog, he found that he could name neither. She looked familiar, but he made no attempt to try and figure out who she really was. It exhausted his brain to think. Even the doctor who had taken him from that prison seemed unfamiliar. George had overheard enough to guess that he was ‘Enys’, and he left it at that.

Now, he was frustrated that he couldn’t speak, that he couldn’t express his fears about the dog in front of him.

“Give him to me,” Dwight said, noticing that George was near panicking. George kept his eyes on Horace until the dog had settled in Dwight’s arms facing the opposite window. At last, he let go of his vigilance with a ragged exhale.

“I’m sorry,” Caroline said, looking at George as she said it, her eyes deep and tender. “He’s only not used to you yet, you see. Horace can be a fickle dog. You mustn’t take his barking to heart,”

“Yes,” Dwight said, a note of bitter sarcasm in his voice as he scratched the dog behind the ears. “Because he is spoiled, no doubt,”

George blinked, slowly recognizing the words. It was the first time he had heard an apology in years. A real one.

He took another ragged breath, and as if a light had flickered in his brain, he remembered another string of words.

“It’s alright,” George could barely get the phrase out. But he said the words as an acknowledgment. Forgiveness. Not as a phrase to falsely soothe, or to order into submission. The words were kind. More words came together. A name. “Caroline,”.

She smiled without showing any teeth, a slight upturn of the lips more than anything, sad, sympathetic. George then realized how exhausted he was, even though he had only been sitting in a carriage. His whole body ached and his eyelids felt exceedingly heavy. It might have embarrassed him some years ago when he was a prideful man, but now he could not find the strength to worry. There was still a desire in him to stay awake, for vigilance sake. The people in the carriage with him were kind, he knew. He had nearly forgotten that kind people exist. Still, a threat loomed in the shadows of his mind.

When George was next conscious, the carriage was pulling up to Killewarren. It was nearly dusk. The winter sky blended in blues, pinks, oranges, all frosted over by the cold air and incoming night.

George had fallen asleep, and as he had awoken he noticed that the doctor’s coat had been draped over his small frame like a blanket. As for Dwight, he truly did not mind being so cold as they rode, so long as George was kept warm and comfortable.

The carriage finally came to an abrupt halt, jerking George into an alert state. It had been like that at the institution. Sometimes he lapsed in and out of consciousness so that when he woke, he had little knowledge of where he was or how much time had passed since he was asleep. After a while, it no longer mattered. It was always night. It was always Hell.

“Come on, George,” Dwight began, calm as he rose a little from his seat next to George. Before the wish for him to move could be addressed, George’s eyes snapped in wild motions, scanning and searching for the dog. Horace was again in Caroline’s arms, barking and letting out short little howls. As the door opened, George carefully began to slide out of the car, though found himself to be shaky. He wasn’t watching where he was placing his footing, for the entirety of his attention was on that dog. George was pulled back the instant before he might have fallen, Dwight’s arms wrapped around his chest from behind.

“Here,” Dwight let go of George with a slow and gentle motion. “I will get out first,”

George let a new panic surge through him. He began to tremble, for he did not like the rough touching around his chest. Slowly, he turned his head to look down at the less than comfortable looking distance between the carriage and the ground. He tried to steady his breathing. This man had saved him from falling out of the car. It was a labored process of thought. Again, his mind could think of no words to speak, which only agitated it more.

Once Dwight was on the ground, he extended a hand to his wife. She took it as she made her short way down the steps, more as a sign of her affection rather than means of assistance. When their hands met so did their eyes, and they gave one another a reassuring nod. This next phase of their lives would not be easy, but it was the right thing to do.

Caroline made her way into the house, Horace in her arms. Even with her companion, even with her husband at the house for the night, she could not deny a feeling of loneliness brewing in her heart. She knew that he would not come to bed with her tonight. He would not converse with her at length like they would when they were younger and had come home again. At the same time, perhaps the ache in her heart was for George Warleggan. Despite his cruelty in a past life, he did not deserve to be brought to this. No one did. She turned her head back again over her shoulder to see Dwight helping George get out of the carriage, the former nearly having to carry his patient. The latter’s legs were unsteady, his gaze distracted. She turned away. If Elizabeth could somehow see just how her husband looked now, it would break her heart. It broke her’s, and she knew, most of all, it broke Dwight’s.

[janeofcakes]

Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Ten Feet from the Pack: Chapter 6

Sorry, y’all, but this is a short one. The next is a longer one though, so there’s that to look forward to. If I can get it edited any faster, maybe I’ll post it before next weekend to make up for the length of this one. 

I love you all and hope this brings you a quiet, all be it short, respite.

------

But someone was waiting in the shadows of the night. Someone was waiting. It just didn’t feel right. Danger on the track. Something told me there were strangers on my back and I was so right.                                                                           --Europe, Danger on the Track

Eight bouts later, four of which were John’s first away experiences, and he really does see the similarities between derby and hockey. The schedule is just as intense and punishing. Limbs need to be iced, soaked and stretched post-bout just like hockey. It makes for some truly long nights, especially when the team travels. There are nights when he has never been more happy to collapse into a hotel bed in his life. 

He finds himself wishing he could do just that after a long day at the stadium, but in his own bed, of course. It was just a normal day of practice and the like, no bouts, but it was still busier than usual and John did not make it out of the building until far later than he had planned. John feels drained and drowsy as he drives to Ford Hospital for his typical Wednesday and Sunday visits to Molly. He tries to go more often, being her doctor and all, but bouts and intensified practices make it difficult. Fortunately, Mike is always there to keep an eye on her. John has no idea what kind of case forces Mike to be at Ford all the time, but he is grateful for the help with Molly’s care.

She had woken the night following the bout, just as John had said. It was clear the poison had taken its toll because she was disoriented and unable to coordinate her muscles enough to move much. She had started to panic when she tried moving and could not, her heart rate skyrocketing. It would have been worse had Sherlock not been there. He held her hand to ground her and explained the situation carefully, leaving nothing out. He repeated it the subsequent three nights and again on the fourth when she could finally both comprehend and retain the information. On that night, Molly was coherent enough to ask questions and she tried to answer all of Sherlock’s. He told her their theories on how the poison was administered and when - right before she got on the track, during the jam, or just after the collision. It could have been nothing less than a puncture, but Molly did not recall feeling any such thing.

John and Sherlock had discussed it after Molly was resting again. The coach was convinced one of Moriarty’s skaters had done it under his orders. Even when John reminded him of all the people helping Molly off the track, each one having opportunity, Sherlock would not entertain any other possibility. It was all John could do to keep the man from going directly to the Demons’ stadium and accusing Moriarty face to face. John had heard a lot of stories about the rivalry, HardOn having told the majority and quite colorfully too, but John still did not know how it all started. It ran deep on both sides though, that much was obvious.

With all of these thoughts playing out in his mind, John pulls into the hospital lot and parks. He sits for a moment, considering it all carefully. Perhaps Molly would tell him more if he asked. She would certainly be a more accurate source than HardOn, but would asking her be an invasion of Sherlock’s privacy? He inhales deliberately and turns off the car, shaking his head as he does so, his decision already made. If he wants to know how the two men became so antagonistic toward one another, he should ask Sherlock himself.

Moments later, John is out of his car and walking into Ford Hospital. He boards the elevator and then emerges on the third floor. Soon he is smiling at the two floor nurses on night duty as he approaches the station.

“Hello, Madge,” he greets brightly. “Bianca. How’s our patient tonight?”

“Much better, John,” Bianca answers with a matching smile. “She’s done more today than any other.”

“Good! That’s good.”

“Awfully tired now though,” Madge continues, ”but she’s trying so hard to stay awake. She wants to see you.”

“Well, I’ll just go see if she’s still up, shall I?” he gives them a nod and goes to Molly’s room. Knocking on the door lightly, John leans in to listen for her to grant entrance and a man’s voice comes to his ears instead. He sounds angry. John shoves the door open in a rush of protective fury to see nothing but Molly sleeping soundly in her bed. He stands for a moment, brow furrowed in confusion. At the sound of a familiar and measured female voice, his eyes drift up and to the side to see a television set mounted from the ceiling, Angela Lansbury on its screen. John smiles and closes the door. He walks to Molly’s bedside, carefully pulls the remote from her fingers and presses the power button.

“Of course you’d be a fan of Murder, She Wrote,” he whispers, looking at Molly fondly. “I heard you’re doing much better today. I’ve never had a better patient, you know.”

He looks down at her hand again and gently takes it in his own, watching as one of her fingers twitches. He glances to the other and something held in her fingers catches his eye. 

“Hello, what’s this?”

John slides the folded piece of paper out from beneath her index and middle fingers. His name is written on it, so he unfolds and reads. He looks back at Molly with wide, startled eyes and a million questions race through his mind. As much as he wants to ask her every single one and now, he is not about to wake her. She needs to rest and recover.

Folding the note and putting it in his jacket pocket, John pats Molly’s hand and whispers good night. He bids the nurses farewell and hurries out to his car again. He turns right out of the lot, the opposite direction of his flat, but exactly the way to Sherlock’s. However, he has only gone a few blocks before thinking better of it. What the hell is he doing? It is ten o’clock at night after a long day. If Sherlock is not in bed already, he will be soon, certainly before John gets there. As important as Molly’s note is, it will keep until morning.

That decided, and coming to his senses, John turns into a gas station parking lot and turns the car around. In minutes, he has parked in the designated spot at his building and is riding in the lift. He usually takes the stairs, but suddenly feels all of the day’s events pressing down on him in full force. John trudges to his door and unlocks it, throwing off his coat as soon as he is inside. He goes to the kitchen, lifting the jumper over his head as he goes and tossing it on the counter. He scratches his chest through the white t-shirt he wears with one hand and opens the refrigerator door with the other. John takes out a carton of orange juice and reaches for a cupboard handle before stopping.

“Oh, fuck it,” he says to himself, opening the carton and taking a long drink straight from the spout. He looks at the brightly colored oranges on the side and sighs. Sometimes he truly believes it is the most refreshing beverage on the planet, second to none.

John sets the carton on the counter and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He picks up the remote and points it over the breakfast bar into the living room. The telly springs to life with the faces of the evening news. John does not pay much attention to the local anchors and heads down the hall to his bedroom where he kicks off his shoes and pulls down his trousers, leaving them bunched on the floor as he continues walking. 

Sauntering back to the kitchen in nothing but a tee and plaid boxer shorts, John stands by the bar and takes another swig of orange juice. Shannon Duffy, the meteorologist is detailing the coming of an unseasonable cold front and John watches, but his mind is elsewhere. He feels like he should call Sherlock, in spite of the hour. He does not know why, but John feels as though something depends on it. What, he doesn’t know because Molly is just fine and sleeping comfortably in her room.

Giving into the notion, John picks up his mobile only to have it violently knocked from his grasp. An arm wraps around his neck and the barrel of a gun thrusts into his kidneys painfully. He gasps and time stops as the arm presses hard into his throat. He feels a warm breath in the shell of his ear and then a voice, dark and low.

“I would’ve let you go all the way. Wouldn’t mind seeing what’s under that shirt one bit,” it threatens in a hoarse whisper. The gun moves down his spine, bruising as it goes, until it rests at the top of his buttocks. The tip of the barrel catches on the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down an inch, digging into the top of one cheek painfully. An inhalation pulls air over John’s ear and a humid breath blows back out. He flinches his head away a touch, but the voice is still in his ear. “But you’re late and I have a schedule to keep.”

John blinks his eyes wide and sucks in a sharp breath. He knows what is about to happen. He squeezes his eyes shut for a split second and braces his hands on the counter before him. John suddenly pushes himself back and into the man, throwing them both backward into the opposite counter. He feels a surprised puff of breath by his ear and a sharp pain in the side of his hip. John pulls free from the man and launches himself over the bar, just missing the stools and landing hard on the floor. He jumps up, in spite of the pain, and runs down the hall to his room, hearing a quiet chirp and feeling a whoosh of air at his cheek. He slams the door behind and locks it. Without stopping for a second, John runs for the window, throws it open and leaps out onto the fire escape. John doesn’t hear a shot, but the doorknob flies into the room and the door is kicked open. John puts a hand on either side of the ladder and slides down to the next landing. He steps quickly to the next ladder, knowing he only has the second or two it will take his attacker to cross the bedroom floor before more bullets come.

Without looking up, John slides down to the ground and ducks into the shadows of the alley in between his building and the next. He hears heavy footsteps on the fire escape that rumble down the ladders and land not far from him. He tucks farther into the darkness and holds his breath. He can see his attacker clearly now, head to toe in black with a mask over his face. Only his eyes and mouth are visible and he wears such a sneer as John has ever seen. 

John watches as the man searches the alley. He comes very close to John, who is in near panic and trying not to move or even breathe, when the man suddenly curses and turns away. He jogs down the alley in the opposite direction and is gone. John waits, not daring to make even the slightest noise. For the second time that night, a thousand questions run through his mind at breakneck speed. How will he know the man is really gone? Will he reappear if John comes out of hiding? Who is this guy and what does he want? Just what the hell is John going to do now? He can’t go back to his flat, even if the man is unlikely to pay him another visit. Or would he go back into the flat and wait for John to return? John suddenly gasps audibly and his blood runs cold. Pay him a visit. Suppose that man pays someone else a visit. A person he thinks John might go to for help.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” John whispers into the silent alley. He glances this way and that and pops out of the shadows, hurrying to the parking lot. He ducks down next to his car and pulls a spare key from where he had secured it after he bought it. An old trick his father taught him back in the day. John has never actually lost his keys, but his dad often did and needed a little extra insurance.

When John rises as high as he dares to look around for any sign of the man, he unlocks the door quickly and climbs in. Starting the car and backing out of his spot, he turns and heads to the very place he had talked himself out of going only moments before. The flat belonging to Sherlock Holmes.

----

Holy shit, Jane! Again! You all knew John would be a target after what happened with Billy, but Sherlock could get caught up in this too. Or worse, used as bait or leverage! Oh dear, oh dear, what awaits at Sherlock’s condo?? Only time and the next chapter will tell. Until then, my friends. Stay safe. Stay healthy.

@zentris @toooldforthissh-stuff @shana-movershaker @ melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa @thetranslucentwallaby @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow

[moody-by-nature]

Rescue Me|Chapter Twenty-Five

Andrea searched every room on the upper levels of their home. Coming up empty handed, she sighed and stormed down the steps into the lab. Peering through the glass door, her eyes fell on her disheveled husband. Opening the soundproof door, loud music poured out of the room. Her feet carried her the short distance to the chair he occupied.

Jared sat there with his eyes closed staring at the computer screen listening to a clip of a new song. Taking a moment to appreciate his talented mind, Andrea listened to the music flowing from the speakers; a smile pulling at her lips as she reached out to touch his shoulder.

Eliciting a giggle from Andrea as he jumped, Jared stopped the music. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled at his bride. Tapping his hand on his thighs signaling her to sit. Throwing her leg over him, straddling his lap Andie rested her hands on his bearded cheeks.

A gasp escaped her lips as the warmth of his skin spread through her palms. Her previous medical instincts kicking in as she observed him. His cheeks were flushed, much rosier than normal. She could tell he was exhausted, the dark circles under his beautiful eyes further proof.

"Hi, beautiful." He murmured.

"You're feeling worse, aren't you. I think you have a fever now, babe. I know you're inspired by this new song and it's incredible, but you really need to rest, J. I'm not trying to nag you, I just don't want you getting worse. You guys have a show in two weeks!"

"I'll take it easy after I finish this part."

"Jared. You've been down here for hours. I've emptied several of the boxes we brought over yesterday, straightened the house and prepped dinner." She argued, knowing this was a battle she would likely lose. She kissed him sweetly.

"Baby, don't kiss me... as much as I love kissing you, I don't want you and the baby getting sick." He replied, gently pushing her away before choking out a cough.

"Okay. That's it. Enough work for you today, mister. That cough is terrible. We are going upstairs and getting you in bed."

"I'm not going to bed." Jared argued.

The glare he received had him chuckling, "Will you settle for the couch?"

"Don't laugh at me, and only if you promise to stay out of this lab. Jared, I mean it. You need to rest. You look like death warmed over."

"You're really sexy when you're bossy, Ace."

"I'm just trying to be a good wife and take care of my husband. He makes it difficult sometimes."

"Mmm," Jared hummed, a devilish smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Do you happen to have any of your old scrubs left? You could play dress up for me and be my naughty nurse. I remember how they fit you so snugly, your ass looks so good in them. And these perfect tits of yours, baby girl..." he growled, sliding his hands up her body, cupping her breasts and squeezing them. "I think they're already getting bigger!"

The giggle escaping Andrea's lips morphed into a moan as Jared's strong hands massaged her sensitive breasts. She felt her body quickly responding to his touch and began to grind her hips against his. She wanted to have her way with him in this chair. Reality and his current condition hit her as she brushed her cheek against his overheated face.

Kissing him once more, Andrea peppered fluttery kisses from his lips, across his cheeks, one landing on the tip of his nose before she placed a final kiss on his forehead.

"I'm dying to fuck you right here in this chair, but you're sick and I'm taking you upstairs. No if's or but's about it. If you're a good boy, and take your medicine I'll suck your cock before we go to sleep tonight."

"You drive a hard bargain Mrs. Leto, but you have a deal. I'm just wondering which of us will enjoy it more." He smirked, "I know you're wet for me, baby."

"Cocky much? Let's go upstairs." Andrea ordered, attempting to get off his lap. Her efforts halted by Jared's firm grip on her hips.

"I'm definitely cocky..." Jared moaned, thrusting his hips into her.

Doing her best to seem unaffected, Andrea pulled her body from his to stand. Lifting both hands toward him, she gestured for him to take her hands. Jared slid his warm skin against her cooler skin, pulling himself up, and started toward the stairs.

Settling into the cozy light grey couch in their living room, Jared finally felt how sick he actually was. He was so thankful to have someone that loved him the way Andie did. No one other than his mother had ever taken care of him in this way.

His eyes lifted, gazing lovingly at her. Her brow drawn in concentration, chewing on her bottom lip as she rummaged through the small box of medications she kept on hand. The thermometer beeped, drawing her attention back to him.

"Just as I thought. Unfortunately, we don't have anything here we need." Pulling her stethoscope from the discarded box, she placed the bell on his chest, listening to him breathe. "You're rattling a little too. I'll call Dr. McGee to get your inhaler refilled too. Please stay right here and rest while I'm gone. I know sitting still is torture for you baby, but rest... Pretty please?" She grinned, "I'll be back in a couple hours, I love you.

As she went to stand, Jared grabbed her, pulling her to him for one more kiss, "I love you more."

"Fight me." Another kiss stolen, "Bye, baby." She whispered. Jared sighed, watching her walk out of the room. She picked up her bag from the table and waved as she stepped out of view.

Hopping into her car, Andrea smiled thinking about how this was now her home. Although she would miss her treehouse. However, being married to Jared was a dream come true.

---

Accelerating through the intersection, Andrea squealed hearing Jareds' voice pour out of her speakers. Her right hand floating to the dial and turning it up louder. The late afternoon sun illuminating her ring, causing prisms to dance    on the ceiling of her small SUV as she happily sang her heart out navigating the winding roads.

Rounding a corner, Andrea felt panic rush through her veins as a large green truck came into view. Her right foot slamming down on the brake as hard as she could. The green truck hammering into the front, ride side of her grey SUV, throwing her into oncoming traffic. The distinct sound of metal crunching and screeching tires filling the air.

Her head slamming against the door frame as she came to a jarring stop. Andrea desperately tried to restart her vehicle as she quickly glanced out the drivers side window. Smoke billowing off the screaming tires of a small red sports car as the driver worked to stop.

"Jared.." she gasped, tears flowing freely as his smiling face flashing before her, and suddenly her world went black.

——-

Jared woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table. Completely disoriented from sleeping, he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Looking at his phone, not recognizing the number he ignored the call.

"Andie?" He called out, "Baby, are you back yet?" He asked. Standing from the couch, picking up his phone, he started toward the kitchen. His phone again started ringing, recognizing the same number, a ball of anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach.

Swiping his index finger across the screen, "Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Leto?" A female business-like voice asked.

"Whose asking?"

"Mr. Leto, my name is Linda. I'm calling from Cedars-Sinai. Your wife Andrea has been in a car accident."

Jared felt the blood run from his face, his knees buckled sending him to the floor.

"Mr. Leto, I'm sorry, this is a terrible way to deliver the news... Andrea is in surgery and doing okay at the moment. Please come as quickly, but safely as you can. Okay? Do you have family nearby? Have someone drive you if possible.

Jared took a deep breath as if someone threw cold water in his face. His breath was coming out in short puffs as he ended the call. As if his mind went into auto-pilot, his fingers flew across the screen of his phone to dial Shannons' number.

"Hey, little brother! What's up."

"Andrea's been in an accident." A sob escaping him, "I'm.. I .. "

"What! Is she okay? Are you at home?"

"Yes." Jared choked.

"I'll be there in five minutes."

Shannon drove as quickly as possible, picking up Jared and quickly arriving at the hospital. Jared leapt from the truck before he had completely stopped, and ran inside.

"Andrea Leto, I'm here for Andrea Leto, can you please tell me where she is?" He rushed out. "What's your relationship to the patient, sir?"

"I'm her husband." The nurse checked registration, Shannon arrived and stood next to his brother. "She's still in surgery. If you'll wait right here a moment I will call back and have someone take you to the waiting room. They will have more answers for you regarding her condition."

Shannon glanced at Jared, his face full of concern and anxiety. Placing his hand on Jared's shoulder in what he hoped to be a comforting grip.

"Leto family?" A petite blond shouted from a side door. Jared and Shannon quickly spun toward her, their feet carrying them rapidly across the white tiled floor of the beige waiting room.

"Right this way, gentlemen."

The brothers followed the nurse through the organized chaos of the emergency room, down a long hallway into a smaller, much quieter space.

"This waiting room is strictly for trauma surgery family and friends. You may wait here until.."

"Please tell me what's happening with my wife." Jared pleaded, "All I've been told is she's been in an accident!"

"Sir, please sit down."

"No! I won't sit. Anytime someone is told to sit in a hospital it's bad news. You will not give me bad news! That's my wife! We just got married three days ago!" Jared yelled, hovering closely to the woman.

Shannon stepped in front of him, "Jared. You need to calm down. This woman is doing her job. I know you're terrified, I am too! But you need to take a deep breath brother, she doesn't deserve to be yelled at."

It was as if Jared were in a trance, wiping his eyes, he shook his head and sat down. Shannon sat right beside him. Resting his elbows on his knees, he dropped his head,  propping himself up on his closed fists.

"Okay, now then. Yes, Mrs. Leto was involved in a multi-car wreck. EMSA reported upon arrival that a trash truck suffered a brake failure and hit your wife's vehicle. They said she was thrown into oncoming traffic and hit by another driver."

"Jesus! Could you maybe spare the details for a second and tell us how she is?" Shannon asked. Looking over at his brother who sat so still he resembled a statue.

"I apologize, it's just that she's suffered a broken arm and a pretty bad head trauma. The doctors are hopeful she will have a full recovery.  I didn't want any surprises when you get to see her."

"What about our baby?" Jared asked, his voice so quiet suddenly Shannon wasn't sure he heard him correctly.

Lifting his head, his sad eyes met the confusion visible in the nurses. "She didn't appear to be expecting. Trauma protocol is to assess the most critical injury. I will go back now and inform them she is pregnant. I'll return when I have more news."

Jared didn't reply, watching her walk out, his head returning to its previous position.  Suddenly he felt like crying, completely overwhelmed with emotions.

"How far along is she?

"We aren't even sure yet. We were supposed to find out in the morning actually." Jared sniffed, "She found out in Italy."

"That explains a lot.." Shannon chuckled, "She was so pissed at you. Little firecracker." He laughed.

"Shannon..."

"Don't, Jared. Don't fucking say it. The devil feeds off of that shit and neither of you need that right now. Don't even think it. Okay! She's going to be fine!"

"She's the love of my life. I can't lose her." He couldn't hold back anymore, tears now flowing freely down his face. Jared silently prayed to any and all powerful spirits that were listening.

"Please. Please don't take her away from me."

——

Three very long hours later, Shannon was leaning against a wall watching Jared wear a hole in the floor from pacing. The metal handle of the door clicked, signaling the petite woman's return to the waiting room.

"Mr. Leto, Andrea is out of surgery and in recovery. If you two would please follow me, I will take you to her room." Her facial expression relaxing into a neutral state, "Before we head up, I would like to inform you that Andrea is in a medically induced coma so that her body can heal. She will look quite shocking to you when you first see her." With that warning, she pulled the door open exiting quickly as the brothers followed behind her.

"Wait!" Jared stuttered, "Is the baby okay?"

A solemn look appeared on the blonde's face, "I'm very sorry, she suffered too much trauma in the accident. The doctors found evidence of an embryo, unfortunately the baby wasn't far enough along to survive."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he and Shannon followed the nurse. His heart was breaking. Having not taken the time to sit and process how excited he truly was to be a father hit him. Now the child he never knew he wanted was gone. Jared felt sadness fill him as he thought about how he would tell Andrea when he saw her.

Walking into the dimly lit room, Jared's eyes fell onto Andrea's comatose form. Multiple wires and tubes entering and exiting her body in various places. His jaw fell slack, a gasp escaping him as he drew his hand to lay over his chest, his heart leaping into his throat.

The monitor beeping pulled Jared's eyes away from Andrea briefly, taking in the various numbers on the screen. Returning his attention to his wife, he brought his hand to her face. Careful to avoid the tube in her mouth, lightly tracing her bruised cheek bone and over her left eye that was swollen shut. He couldn't believe what he was seeing and found himself unable to fight off the wave of guilt he felt for her lying in this hospital bed.

"She's unconscious, but responding to testing, so she should be able to hear you. Talk to her as much as you'd like. I'm sure she would love that. The doctor should be in later. My name is Michelle if you need anything, ok?"

Jared nodded his head, and grabbed Andrea's hand. He hovered over her and placed a kiss on her forehead, "Please, wake up baby, open those beautiful eyes."

—-

Two weeks passed and Andrea still hadn't woken up. Jared refused to leave her side, choosing to cancel their show in Vegas. He slept beside her each night in the small hospital bed, talking and singing to her.

"Jared, the nursing staff can do that for her." Katherine commented entering the room.

"She would do it for me. They're simple range of motion exercises. Besides, it keeps me occupied." Setting her leg gently back onto the bed, he turned his head away from Andie to look at his mother-in-law.

"You need to go home... rest, at least go down at eat breakfast ... shower maybe."

"I eat plenty. Shannon, Emma and Shayla make sure of it. I took a shower last night." He remarked, gesturing behind him to the restroom. "I'm not leaving her, so you may as well stop telling me to."

Katherine signed, "You two are both so stubborn. Must be why you're her soul-mate."

"She wouldn't leave me and I refuse to leave her."

----

It was mid afternoon. Katherine was napping in the provided recliner next to the window. Jared, once again was curled up next to Andrea. His left arm wrapping around her torso under her broken arm. He lay with his head on her chest sound asleep.

Andrea felt as if she were gagging on something. Her entire body felt stiff and as if she were being held down. Attempting to open her eyes, she fought against her heavy eyelids. The effort exhausting as they finally fluttered open to see her mother asleep in a green upholstered chair.

"Mom?" She tried to speak, quickly realizing she couldn't.

Lifting her right arm, she panicked slightly as the lime green cast came into view. Her injured arm arriving at her mouth. Her swollen fingers stumbling over the plastic tubing that pumped air into her lungs. Trying to move her left hand, it felt as if it were cemented into the ground.

The panic was rising, her breath becoming more rapid. The machine above her started dinging and she felt the bed move. She tried to look behind her, but was too constricted by the tubes.

"Andie? Baby, are you awake?" A sleep laden, yet melodic voice croaked.

Who on Earth would call her baby? No one calls her Andie, either. This has to be a bizarre dream, she thought.

She felt fingers digging into her right hip slightly, and she attempted to move again.

"Katherine! She's awake!" That same smooth voice shouted. Andrea watched her mother open her eyes and smile.

"Andrea, oh thank god! I'll go get the doctor! Jared, keep her calm."

Jared scooted to the edge of the bed, placing one leg on the floor, while he rested his right knee on the bed. Relief flooded through him seeing her alert and moving.

"Andrea, sweetheart, take a deep breath. You need to slow your breathing, let the machine continue to work for you until the doctor gets here." Jared said, placing a hand on top of her head, kissing her forehead. Lifting her left arm to his lips, he kissed her hand.

"I'm so, so happy your back, baby. I've been a mess without you." He stated.

Andrea did as he said, counting to three as she inhaled and then repeating the process when exhaling. She kept waiting for this weird dream to end.

Michelle and one other nurse entered the room, "Welcome back, Andrea, we are going to get that tube out of your throat. Just continue to take deep breaths."

The two nurses worked quickly, removing the device just as Johnathan entered her room.

"Andrea! You're back!" He rushed to her, pulling her into a tight hug, Katherine joined in as well. They released her reluctantly as she started coughing.

Jared was the quickest to act, turning to the bedside table, picking up his glass bottle, he offered her a sip of his water.

"I've let Dr. Ahmadian know you're awake, she's very excited to come see you. She'll be here as soon as possible. I'll be back to check on you guys in a bit." Michelle said, returning the blood pressure cuff to its place on the wall, she and her coworker left the room.

Overcome with joy, Jared bent over, seizing Andrea's chapped lips in a kiss. The electricity he always felt zinging through his soft lips when they connected. He made no move to deepen the kiss, lingering in the moment.

"I love you, Andrea." Jared whispered softly.

Andrea's brain felt like it was swimming in confusion. Breaking the kiss, she pushed Jared away with her uninjured arm. He hovered above her, inches from her face.

Andrea looked from her parents over to Jared and back, "What happened, and why did Jared Leto just kiss me?" She questioned. "You love me?" Her voice laced with confusion.

Jared completely removed himself from her bed and walked to the window sill, leaning against it. Panic struck him, why wasn't she remembering him?

"Honey, you don't remember Jared?" Andrea furrowed her eyebrows together.

"Of course I remember Jared, he's one of my favorite artists! But that doesn't tell me why he's here. Or why I am here."

Katherine looked at Jared and then at John before looking back at Andrea. "Andrea Leigh Leto if this is some kind of sick joke you stop it right now." She scolded, pointing her finger at her daughter.

"Leto?" Andrea asked? Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain hit her in the side of the head.

Tag list: @nikkitasevoli @lostinletoland @spillinginkwithlove @conceptuallyloud @branded-with-a-j@callmeasyoulove @fortify-undeny @pandaliciouz

[fal-carrington]

Back to you Pt.8

Pairing: KamilahxMc

Disclaimer: The characters are NOT mine they belong to PB.

Prompt: Relationships are build with love and patience, that's what Hayley used to be believe. Hayley and Kamilah dated for two years and half, and those years Hayley dedicated herself at the work to demolished the strong and old walls around Kamilah's heart. At one night, after a big fight, words spilled without thinking can be harsh and can destroy everything. Hayley ends up leaving the country and a regretted Kamilah behind. 7 years later when Hayley came back to New York, unexpected events can reunited them, bringing old strong feelings back. Now Kamilah has to get Hayley back, but how the vampire queen is going to do that?

Hayley’s pov

Kamilah’s penthouse

"...Kamilah, damn it!" I spat breathlessly looking directly into those beautiful brown eyes. I tried to lift myself, but with one hand, she pushed me against the sheets without difficulty. Kamilah smirked in response as I rolled my eyes in frustration.

I could feel the sweat running down my forehead, breathing hard, Kamilah was really making up for the last few years. We had been doing this for hours, and clearly she was not at all tired.

But there was something very sexy about her, an attractive-looking hell woman on top of me looking at me like that. Her shiny brown hair was messy, her social shirt was open, but she was not wearing a bra, just her black lacy panties. I could get a nice view of those breasts hidden by the shirt.

"Say it again," Kamilah whispered in my ear in a seductive voice that made the hairs on my arm twitch, she nibbled at my earlobe gently.

"Mmmm," I groaned in response. I bit my lips looking at the ropes that held me against the head of the bed.

Kamilah saw my hesitation, and with a smile, she ran her hand down my belly, her nails tickling every inch descending to my weak point. I groaned in response, closed my eyes, bit my lips and tried to avoid those words, but she did not stop with her movements, I did not know how long I could hold. "I... I love you." I let out softly.

"What? Repeat," she said with her lips on my neck.

"You heard very well!" I said.

"You're mistaken, for a moment I could not hear what you said," she said again, kissing and biting that area of ​​my neck lightly. Her fingers went back to me, I tried to let go again.

"I... I love you" I admitted for the fifteenth time only that night, but to her it did not seem to be enough.

"Great." She gave me a perfect satisfied smile, Kamilah kissed me hungrily. "Now say it again"

Kamilah’s pov

It was already nine o'clock in the morning, I should have been at work a long time ago. But I could not take my eyes off her, I drank my coffee looking at Hayley's. She was sleeping on my bed, curled up in my sheets. The smile was evident on my face with the memories of last night still fresh in my memory.

"Good morning," she said scratching one eye and lifting her head from the pillow. Her messy blond hair and bright green eyes studied me.

"Good morning," I replied.

"You were watching me sleep?" She asked.

I avoided looking into her eyes.

"I was afraid that you could runaway this morning."

“You are so cute sometimes” She laughed. "What time is it?" She looked around disoriented.

"Nine" I said giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Shit, shit!" Hayley searched for her clothes around the room. "I'm late for work, why did not you wake me up ?!"

"I did not want to. I like that view of you in my bed.” I said handing her a mug of coffee, she rolled her eyes and drank, squeezing the sheet around her body.

"Where's my pager?" She said.

I pointed to the nightstand. She let out a relieved sigh.

"At least you did not break like you did with my cell phone," she said taking him in her hands. "OH FUCK! They beep me countless times, my God!"

"Oh, I almost forgot," I said, and picked up the box that was next. "I told you I'd buy another one." I handed it to her. Hayley took the box from her cell phone and looked at me. "I asked my assistant to buy it earlier today."

"Thank you." She set the mug on the nightstand and hurriedly dressed in her clothes.

"Where are you going?"

"To work. By the way, you should be at work, right?” She said.

"I can call the driver there any minute. I was thinking of waiting for you to wake up so we could talk "

"Of course. What do you want to talk about?” She asked as she pulled on her boots. "About the tireless sex session last night? Or the fact that I cheated on my fiancé and that I'm the worst fiancée on the world? "

I bit my lip as I followed her out of the room.

I knew she could react that way, I can not deny that the thought did not come to mind that the first thing she would do was get up and runaway at the first opportunity she had.

Hayley picked up a donut that was on the breakfast table and took a bite. I leaned in and hugged from behind, memorizing her scent for more of those seconds left before she left.

"Kamilah..."

"Hayley, I think we should at least discuss the events of last night," I whispered in her ear. I could hear her beating rising.

"Kamilah, last night was incredible," she said. And I smiled involuntarily, she turned around so she could look at me. "I have not had such a wonderful evening since..."

"Seven years ago?" I guessed with frowning brows.

"It's... Something like that" she shrugged, a smile on her face

"Can I ask you something?" I asked with my eyes on her.

"Of course"

"Were you being honest last night?" I asked.

"I did not lie. I told the truth when I said that I love you.” She replied and I grinned. "I have to go to work." She took her purse and tossed it over her shoulder. "I do not regret anything," she said and I widened my eyes in surprise. "I've been wanting this since I came back. I'm a horrible person right? For want you and being engaged at the same time?"

I tried as hard as I could to hold back the smile. Finally be listening to her words for the first time in seven years in such a sincere and truthful way. She wanted me. Hayley smiled at me, her green eyes bright and a gorgeous smile on her face.

"Let's be bad together then." I touched her face. She kissed my hand. "Let's stay together for good. Nobody in the middle, not even... Scott "

"I have to sort things out with him. I'm going to talk to him today and tell him everything. Tell about us.” She said and I could tell she was being honest. "I owe it to him, at least."

"You love him"

"Yes, but I love you more. So much more" She took another bite of the donut and walked away. "You look good in black, by the way." She smiled, looking at my clothes. She stole a kiss from me and smiled going out the door.

I smiled involuntarily watching her walk away. For the first time in seven years I was able to feel complete by having her back there.

Hayley's pov

I ran out of the hospital wearing my white coat in a hurry, I was late and had not answered my pager, I was probably in trouble. But at least yesterday night yielded the countless scolding I would take today.

When I reached the hall of the cardiology center, I ran into the hospital chef with his arms crossed talking to a nurse. He stared at me with a serious expression on his face.

"I know I know. I'm super late, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry chef, I—"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"They beep me. Emergency.” I showed him the pager. "I need to go see what it is..."

"No, you do not. Did not your father talk to you? Your fiance's been in your office waiting for you an hour and a half. "

"What's going on?" I asked without understanding.

"Well, you two better figure out what it is," he said, touching my shoulder. Still not understanding, I pulled away and went to my office without understanding what was going on.

As I opened the door, I came across Scott sitting in a chair in front of my desk. He looked up from a picture frame when he saw me.

"Darling." He smiled and stood up to hug me. "I'm very sorry for our fight last night," he said with a regretful look.

"We can discuss this later, I have a patient to attend, and..." I said hastily.

"No you have not." He held the pager in his hand. "I'm the one who beep you."

At that moment I felt the heat on my face, I could not contain the anger.

"Scott!! This is not a toy! It could have been one of my ICU patients, do you have any idea of my despair?! "

"I know, but I needed to talk to you and you were not answering your phone. Not even Lily knew where you were!"

"I needed to think. I needed to take a breath and try to reflect on our relationship,” I said.

"Oh really? Were not you anywhere else?" He asked with both hands at his waist. "With a certain person in particular?" He looked at me suspiciously. “Kamilah?!”

I crossed my arms.

"What are you trying to impose? It does not matter where I was. I don’t know, maybe I was with Kamilah."

“So you were with her?" He looked at me in shock. “I can’t believe it”

I nodded. He sighed and ran his hand over his face.

"I thought we'd been through this, Hayley," he said angrily.

"Scott, I need to tell you something..." I tried to say. “Kamilah and I—“

"We'll talk about it after we get to London," he said.

"What? What are you trying to say?!"

"We're both going back to London. Tonight."

“What the hell?!”

"Your father has already made the necessary arrangements so that we could come back, and with the wedding coming later this month, I think this will the best for us. You loved London and came up against it, we're finally going back. As you wish.” He smiled.

"Are you kidding me?!" I asked in shock. "You can not be serious, Scott!"

"Why do you think I came?"

"To see me!"

"No, to finish the arrangements and I've already talked to the chief of the hospital in your absence."

"How you... I can not believe it's happening." I ran my hand through my hair and paced. "You did all this behind my back ?!"

"Your father—"

"It is logical. I knew he had a finger in it! I can not believe you came to my work and did all this behind my back. Do not you have the right to make decisions for me! This is my life not yours!"

"Our life!" He said. "When I asked you to marry me, and you accepted, I said that from that day on, we would be a team!"

"We can not be a team if you do not respect my choices and just play alone," I said angrily. "You respect my father's decisions, but not mine! But do you want to know? I'm going to London, I have something to say to my father, and I'm going back to New York"

"This has nothing to do with...?"

"Do not put Kamilah in the middle of it," I said angrily.

"What happened last night, Hayley ?!" He said with his arms folded.

I sighed and took a deep breath.

"Something that has changed everything."

[tmarie82]

At Least for Now

Pairing: Naomi x F!MC (Marin)

Book: Veil of Secrets

Word Count: ~1,900

Rating:  PG-13 (I really need to wash Marin’s mouth out with soap!)

Author’s Note:  This is the final part (Part 5) of the Veil of Secrets Truths and Lies mini-series and I am really liking how it wrapped up.  Thank you to everyone who has stayed with me for this, I appreciate your support more than you know!

This is also a submission for the @choices-september-challenge day 2 prompt ‘Apology’.  (It is technically still September 2nd where I am!)  Thank you @i-dream-so-i-write for organizing this and inspiring me to get this story out today!

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list.  You can find all of my fics here - MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~~~

The boat ride back to town from the lighthouse had been relatively uneventful after the chaos on the peninsula.  After Naomi had helped Marin rinse the blood off her hands, arms and clothing as best as possible, she re-wrapped her in the trauma blanket and escorted her towards the coast guard boat to take her back to safety.  Naomi had decided to stay behind to help with the rest of the cleanup and investigation, but Flynn had graciously swooped in to volunteer to ensure Marin made it back home safely.  Marin was too tired to argue at this point and allowed Flynn to usher her to an empty seat on the boat and sit beside her, placing an arm protectively around her shoulders as she settled in.  As the boat pulled away Marin looked up to find Naomi still standing on the dock, a wistful smile touching her lips as she watched the boat depart.

Flynn drove Marin back to the B&B on the back of his motorcycle, making any conversation impossible over the roar of the engine.  But as they walked up to the door of her temporary residence, he was the first to speak.  “You did good tonight, Marin ... you didn’t even hesitate in saving Nikolai’s life.”  Flynn paused in contemplation, then shook his head before continuing.  ”I still don’t know if he had anything to do with Kate’s kidnapping or Tanner and Bryce’s murders ... but something isn’t adding up.  I get the feeling this isn’t over yet ...”  

Marin stared at the ground between them drowsily, still playing the events of the evening over in her mind.  “I don’t either ... I feel like we’re missing something big in all this.”  She shrugged and sighed deeply, a hint of fear in her voice.  “And to think that the real culprit could still be out there ...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes filled with tears again, all the fear and guilt and emotions from the past few days coming back to her at once.

Flynn rushed forward and pulled her into an embrace, cradling her head against his shoulder.  “Shh, shhh ... it’s okay.”  He stroked her hair softly, whispering against her ear.  He pulled away after a moment, peering down intently at Marin.  “I can stay if you want ... if you don’t want to be alone.”  There was a heartfelt, concerned smile on his lips ... and it broke Marin’s heart.  It was time to come clean and set the record straight.

“Flynn ...” she started, her voice filled with remorse as she shifted out of his reach.  “Flynn, I need to be honest with you.  That night on the boat ... it was was wonderful.  But it was a mistake.”  Pain flashed across Flynn’s eyes as he stood in front of Marin, listening intently as his hopeful expression crumbled away.  But she was too exhausted and emotionally spent to hold back any longer.  “What I mean is I was confused ... I have feelings for someone else and I wasn’t sure how to handle them.  And I care about you, you are a very attractive man and ... it just happened.”  Marin paused, studying Flynn’s downcast stare for a sign of anger but didn’t find any, so she continued.  “I care about you, so much ... just, not like that.  I’m so sorry.”

Flynn nodded, still not meeting her gaze.  He didn’t appear mad, Marin pondered ... maybe just a hint of disappointment and confusion.  He finally looked up at her, recognition resonating behind his stare.  “It’s Naomi, isn’t it?  The someone else you have feelings for?”  

Marin’s breath hitched, slightly taken aback at Flynn’s astute assessment and confrontation.  Maybe she was more transparent than she thought she was.  “Yes.”  She replied simply.

He didn’t say anything, just nodded his head again as he processed the confession.  When he finally spoke, there was a slight smirk on his lips.  “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think you would swing that way, but I guess I see the appeal.”  He chuckled, causing Marin to blush.  “Does she feel the same way?”  

Marin beamed blissfully before she realized that she wasn’t sure how Naomi felt anymore.  While Naomi had been supportive and caring tonight back at the lighthouse, they really hadn’t had a chance to talk about where all of this left them.  “She ...” Marin started, fumbling over her words as she sorted through them.  “She did, but then she heard about us at the trial and ... let’s just say she had a hard time trusting me after that.”  Marin looked down at her hands as she wrung them back and forth at her waist.  

Flynn reached up to put one comforting hand on her shoulder, keeping a safe distance from his newly-platonic friend.  “Well, based on what I saw tonight, I’d say it’s pretty obvious she’s crazy about you.”  Marin’s eyes shot up at his statement, full of renewed hope.  Flynn shook his head again, chuckling softly as the reality of the situation settled into his mind.  ”I just can’t believe I didn’t see it before.  Huh.  But Marin -” he shook her shoulder gently and looked her straight in the eyes- “you need to be honest and tell her then.  Apologize, and make this right.”

Marin shook her head in acknowledgement, a gentle smile reaching the corners of her mouth as she pulled him into a hug.  “Thanks Flynn.  And I’m sorry.  Thank you for being so understanding.”

Flynn’s cheeks flushed as she pulled away and he started walking backwards towards his motorcycle.  He gave her a brief salute before throwing his leg over to mount his bike.  “Good night Marin.  Good luck.”  

~~~~~~~~~~

Marin suddenly had a plethora of energy as she watched Flynn ride away and bounded up the stairs to her private room at the B&B.  As soon as she closed the door behind her, she pulled her phone from her pocket and started clicking out a text.

I told Flynn everything.  About you and me, about my mistake with him ... everything.  I’m back in my room now, I’ll be awake for a while if you can talk.  She hit send, holding her breath for a moment as she contemplated her next action.  Finally, she typed out one more message.  No more lies.  I’m all yours now.  She pressed send before she could overthink her confession, tossing her phone on the bed to avoid staring at it any longer.  She started stripping out of her grimy blood-stained clothes and threw them to the corner, then sauntered into the bathroom to turn on the shower.  She was filthy and she needed a distraction.  

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from a blissfully steamy shower feeling much more relaxed and starting to feel the dregs of sleep weighing on her.  She picked up the phone from her bed and studied the screen ... no new texts, no missed calls.  Fuck.  Maybe she had misread the situation tonight.  Maybe Naomi was just being nice by comforting her but she was still upset with her.  She threw the phone back down and started getting ready for bed.  Sporting clean pajamas and brushing her teeth, she ventured back by the bed and pressed the home button again.  Still nothing.  A few minutes later she was brushing out her wet hair and towel-drying it before she pressed the button yet again.  Blank.  Her heart sank as she put away her things, finally placing the phone on her nightstand defeatedly before sliding under the covers.  Despite the ache in her chest, the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with her and pulled her into a slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~

Knock knock knock.  Marin jolted upright in her bed from a deep sleep, temporarily disoriented as she tried to focus her eyes in the dark.  Knock knock knock.  She registered the second set of knocks on her door and scooted out from the bed, stepping up on her tip-toes to peek through the peephole.  She felt both joy and relief to see Naomi standing patiently on the other side of the door, quickly moving back to open it for her.

Naomi didn’t say anything, just stood in the doorway waiting hesitantly.

“Hi.”  Marin finally said.  “I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.”  

Naomi’s lips tugged into a half-smile and she chuckled.  “I didn’t.  I really didn’t.  But here I am.”  She looked into Marin’s deep chocolate eyes, searching for the answer to her unspoken questions.  “You really told Flynn?  Everything?”

“Yes.  I really did.”  

Naomi didn’t speak, just nodded and looked down at the doorframe for a moment, unsure how to proceed.  

Marin took the silence as a form of rejection and quickly jumped in to further explain her intentions.  “Look, Naomi, I am so sorry.  And I don’t blame you for being mad at-“

“I’m not mad.”  Naomi cut in abruptly, her voice monotone as she finally met Marin’s stare.  “And I’m not upset ... at least, not anymore.  But ...” she paused, taking a deep breath as she tried to overcome the doubt that had flooded her mind.  “I know that if I forgive you, this will be great ... we will be great.  But then you will have to leave and go back to New York, whether it’s in three days or thirty.  And I don’t know if I can handle that-“

“Naomi ...” Marin interrupted, her heart aching with both affection and sadness all wrapped into one.

“I wasn’t done.” Naomi interjected firmly, her deep brown eyes shooting a piercing stare into Marin’s.  “I was saying that I don’t know if I can handle you leaving ... but I also don’t think I can handle not spending time with you while I can.  So I want to do this, Marin.  Let’s enjoy whatever this is between us, at least for now.”

Marin bounded forward and cupped Naomi’s face in her hands, pressing her lips to hers in a passionate yet gentle kiss.  Naomi responded willingly, pouring all of the fear and love and regret into that kiss as if it would be her last opportunity.  When they finally separated, foreheads pressed against each other’s, they were gasping for air.  They stood stil for a moment, Marin’s hands on Naomi’s shoulders and Naomi gripping Marin at the waist.

Eventually Naomi stepped away, reaching a hand up to stroke a damp lock of hair out of Marin’s eyes.  “You must be exhausted.”

“I am.”  Marin confessed, glancing over her shoulder at the comfy queen-sized bed before looking back to Naomi.  “Can you stay with me?  I think I’d sleep better knowing that you’re here.”  She looked up into Naomi’s eyes, willing her with her own gaze to say yes.

“I think I can do that.”  She replied playfully.  “Besides, I want to spend as much time with you as possible while I can.”

“The get in here.”  Marin quipped, pressing another kiss to Naomi’s full lips before pulling her in through the door.

As the two women settled into bed, Marin’s eyelids already fluttering as sleep threatened to take her again, an odd thought crossed her mind.  “You know, the more time you spend with me the more likely you are to get tired of me.”

Naomi giggled.  “Well, then that will make you leaving that much easier.”  She reached over to run a finger along Marin’s cheek, noticing that she was already starting to drift off.  “But somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be the case.”

END

~~~~~~~~~~

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[bluestwitch]

That look in your eyes

Chapter 3. Welcome home, Harry

A/N. This is one of my favourite chapters. Wars are always terrible, but the aftermaths of them can be even worse. My headcanon about the post war situation never included a Harry rolling in Galleons, handing out first range brooms as birthday presents, or living in a great mansion. These characters are still trying to rebuild something that resembles a normal life and struggling to do so. But sometimes all you need is to be with someone you love (and a tin of broom polish can help ;-) )

2003

“That was a long night,” commented Ginny.

The two of them were back in bed, sitting comfortably against the pillows. “It was,” agreed Harry. “Which was a small miracle in itself, given our history of epic interruptions. Heck, Ron and George have even made a sport of keeping us apart!” he chuckled.

Ginny snorted. “Oh, that wasn’t a miracle. Didn’t I tell you? At two different times of that night, both Hermione and my mother went down the dormitories’ staircases looking for us. They saw us talking and put charms at the foot of the stairs so nobody could disturb us, then they went up again. They thought we deserved to be alone and sort things between us.”

Harry’s affection for Hermione and Molly rose several points. “Remind me to get them something extra nice for Christmas this year, from both of us.”

Ginny giggled. “Already taken care of,” and she dissolved in laughter again.

Harry sighed. This was getting ridiculous. “Did you swallow some kind of cheering potion earlier? What’s up with you giggling today? Look, I know you’ve had a rough season and I reckon you were fairly depressed when it ended. If… if you’re taking potions to treat it, why aren’t you telling me? Perking you up is part of my job description as a husband.” He winked at her.

If anything, this made Ginny laugh louder. At last, she managed to say: “Oh, Potter, you were only correct on one account. There’s nothing wrong with my moods and I’m not taking cheering potions. But don’t worry, you are fulfilling your job description perfectly.”

“You are driving me mad”, said Harry.

“Your patience will be rewarded. Now, why don’t you keep on telling me stories?”

“What am I, Scheherazade?” As Ginny only smiled and nodded, he gave up. “Oh, well. Next time you had that look…”

August 11th, 1998

“Harry? Harry, wake up!”

Harry was roused from his nightmare by two hands shaking his shoulders. He was sweating, disoriented, his heart was pounding, and it took him a while to recognize the surroundings, and remember why he was there and with who.

Ginny was looking at him full of concern. “Are you ok? You scared me, you were thrashing and suddenly you yelled.”

Harry did not answer immediately. He gazed at the sky, squinting at the sun. It was mid afternoon, and they were under the trees at the far side of the Burrow. He shrugged.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you are not. Do not dare to use the word ‘fine’ again with me when it’s clear that you’re not. Want to try again?” Ginny’s voice was severe.

Harry gaped at her. “You’re not one to beat around the bush, are you?”

He sat up on the blanket, recalling why he had fallen asleep under the trees in the middle of the day. Molly had enrolled Harry on a mission that consisted in keeping Ginny apart from the Burrow so she could prepare the party. Good moments had been scarce that summer so far, what with the grief and the task of rebuilding something that resembled normalcy. So Molly was determined to throw the big birthday party she thought her daughter deserved on her coming of age, as a sign that life went on.

But life did not go well. A few scattered Death Eaters remained at large, and every now and then they attacked random targets. They had been living under the Fidelius at Muriel’s until just a week ago, after the month they spent at Hogwarts, helping to recondition the castle. The Burrow had not been deemed safe enough to return until then. Grimmauld Place was out of question. Too much work was needed there and nobody could be spared to do it. He had asked Kreacher to help Andromeda instead. The elf had steadily refused to be freed so Harry had suggested it, a little sceptically at first. To everyone’s surprise, the arrangement was working out fairly well. Kreacher had been delighted of taking care of a Black descendant and if Teddy’s muggle, blood traitor and werewolf inheritance bothered him, he simply did not show it.

As Harry had feared, the goblins did not take well the breaking into Gringotts. He, Ron and Hermione were banned from the bank, and his vault was now withheld as bail. Neither Hermione or Ron were affected by this, the former because she had all his savings in Muggle money and the latter because he did not have a vault of his own to begin with, but Harry was effectively left as poor as a church mouse. Bill and Fleur, who had returned to work at the bank, had tried to negotiate with the goblins, with little success. They convinced them to stop pressing charges against Harry, Hermione and Ron -the wizarding society would have been in uproar if their heroes were treated as criminals-, but until compensations for repairs were sorted, none of them could set a foot inside Gringotts.

Kingsley had offered to intermediate, too, but they had refused. He had enough on his plate. The Aurors’ numbers were greatly depleted after the war, so he had been forced to run the office personally, in addition to his Minister duties. Members of the Order of Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army had volunteered to help tracking down Death Eaters, and some of them proved themselves so good that they were offered positions as trainees, overlooking the lack of qualifications, which they could not have got anyway, due to the absence of a normal school year and exams.

That was the ultimate reason Harry was waking from a nightmare in broad daylight. He, Neville and Ron had spent the last two days on a stakeout at Upper Flagley, where rumours located a possible refuge for Nott and two accomplices. They had come out of it empty handed, physically tired and emotionally exhausted, because they had had to fight a group of DE mentors that lurked on a nearby forest. Kingsley had ordered the three trainees and Savage, the Auror in charge, to go home on a well-deserved three days’ break. Which suited Harry perfectly. He had not been able to see Ginny as much as he wanted and he missed her a lot. On the rare occasions they managed to be alone, it felt like being in an oasis amidst chaos.

“You haven’t slept this bad in a while, Harry,” she said.

“I know.” There was a permanent stock of Dreamless Sleep potion in the medicine cabinet of The Burrow, supplied by Molly -she had insisted on being called by her name, as had Arthur- and Hermione, who were the best hands at potions. Everybody was struggling and coped the best they could. Trouble was, the potion was supposed to be used sporadically, as it could be addictive. “I think I am going to use the potion tonight. I need to rest if I am going to work at Wheezes tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m coming, too. Now that I’m of age, I can help, and George will need all hands on deck if he wants to reopen on Friday. But don’t sidetrack me. Ron told me you were sleeping better lately, so what happened?”

Harry looked at her, slightly amused. “You won’t drop the subject, would you?”

“We agreed to talk about everything that bothered us,” said Ginny.

It was true. After that long night in Gryffindor’s common room, they had found that confiding in each other worked out in favour of relief. Harry had never been one to share his feelings, but it was easier with Ginny. She knew when to prod him into speaking and when to listen patiently, and frequently offered wise insight, or silent support and a hug if she did not have any. For his part, he tried to do his best to reciprocate. He thought he was lousy at comforting and lacked time to reread what Twelve Fail-safe Ways to Charm Witches said on the matter, but Ginny seemed to appreciate his efforts.

Harry sighed. “Dementors, that’s what happened. I… I was dreaming of them closing over me. Yesterday, they- I couldn’t… Ron had to cover me. I had trouble casting a Patronus,” he said, not meeting her eye. “I hadn’t cast one since the battle, and back then I nearly couldn’t do it, too. I was embarrassed, and also I worried, what… what if-“

“You are afraid this means you have a weakness and could compromise your chance of becoming an Auror?” said Ginny, shrewdly.

She had hit the nail, again. Surprised, he nodded. “What if I can’t do it anymore, Gin? It’s always been hard for me to be near those bloody things, but now it’s even worse!” Harry felt agitated.

“Remus… he told me in my third year, they affected me more because bad things had happened to me. And now… I’ve been through still worse things since then and I’m having trouble to recall happy memories to make a strong Patronus. I can’t risk being a liability on the field,” he huffed, dropping himself on his back again. He ran his hands over his hair in frustration.

Ginny put a bookmark on his Charms book, closed it and laid down on the blanket at his side, pulling at the pillow he had used to nap so they could share it. She took his hand and squeezed it, but said nothing, looking immersed in thought.

“Did you know, George hasn’t been able to cast a Patronus since the Battle? He went on the Lestrange House raid with Williamson, and they found Dementors watching over prisoners in the cellar. George had to flee, he couldn’t do the charm. Apparently after that he has tried to cast it, to no avail. Hermione thinks there’s a possibility he never will. But…” she chewed her lip.

Harry got up on his elbows and looked at her. “What?”

“After the Chamber, when Dementors searched the Hogwarts Express, you fainted, remember? I didn’t, but it was pretty bad for me, too. It was bloody Riddle all over again, playing with my fears and insecurities. Two years later, when you taught Patronus at the DA, at first I thought, well, I don’t think I‘m powerful enough to do this, but I did! I had some solid happy memories worth a strong one. At the Battle, on the adrenaline rush, I met some Dementors and could have conjured not a horse, but a whole herd! Of course that was before Voldemort called his minions to retreat and I found about F-Fred.” She scrunched her face. “And before you disappeared and made me worry like crazy.” She shot him a reproachful look.

“And your point is…?”, asked Harry.

“I haven’t tried to cast one since then, so I’m not sure, but I bet you could do with some new nice memories you can hold onto,” she said.

Harry flopped on his back again, looking up at the trees above. “Fat chance of that. Life’s crap. We still don’t dare to go out in case some Death Tosser spots us and tries to kill us. Hermione has postponed going to Australia to find her parents until next summer because she thinks it’s not safe yet to return with them. We haven’t had a free day between Auror training, helping George and another million things; I can’t wait for those foreign volunteer Aurors Kingsley have recruited to begin work, I barely have time to go and see Teddy. And,” he hit the floor with the fist, frustrated, “I’m so broke I could only get you a tin of broom polish for your birthday.”

“Hey, I loved your gift!”, she protested. “It means a lot to me. I like the smell…” She said nothing else, but blushed to the roots of her hair.

Harry raised his head and watched her, amused and intrigued. “Weasley, your face is like the setting sun. What’s got to be with broom polish?”

If possible, Ginny’s face went redder. “It’s embarrassing. You will make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of. In any case, nothing wrong about a bit of fun,” he winked.

She sat up straight. Harry copied her and sat in front of her, waiting. Ginny hid her face behind her hands and murmured, “I smelled broom polish in the Amortentia at Slughorn’s class.”

Keep reading at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13060709/3/That-look-in-your-eyes

[latetothegreysparty]

Morning Bustle

I finally got around to writing one of the things I’ve been meaning to write for a little while: a second part to Family Dinner. While this story is intended to be the follow-up to Family Dinner, I’ve tried to write this one in such a way that it’s not totally necessary that you’ve read that one first. All the same, if you haven’t read Family Dinner and would like to, you can read it here. I’m not sure if I’m going to write more parts after this one or not; I guess we’ll just see where that one takes me.

Morning Bustle

Amelia groaned as the alarm on her phone blared, pulling her from her peaceful sleep. “There is no way it’s actually morning yet,” she thought as she opened her eyes and grabbed her phone to shut off the alarm. As Amelia’s eyes adjusted to the light streaming in through the window, she was disoriented for a moment. Why was she in one of the guest bedrooms of the home she used to share with Owen? Oh, right, she had come here last night with Maggie, Meredith, and the kids because the plumbing at Meredith’s house wasn’t working. Finally aware of her surroundings and situation, Amelia trudged out of the bed and noticed the shower running in the bathroom down the hall. That answered the question of whether she should shower or grab coffee first.

Amelia padded down the hall and smiled as she smelled the delicious aroma of coffee. As she stepped into the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway and her smile grew even wider. There at the stovetop was Owen who stood next to Zola who was standing on a chair. He was coaching her through the preparation of French toast and scrambled eggs. Zola looked intensely focused, and Owen’s eyes sparkled with contentment.

As Amelia listened to him patiently explain how they’d know when to flip the bread, she couldn’t help but feel a little wistful. Owen showed such tremendous love and care for the Shepherd children, and they weren’t even related to him. Witnessing such an obvious display of that love made Amelia wonder how much love he would’ve showered upon their children. Before too many images of Owen coaching soccer or Owen reading bedtime stories could pass through her mind, Amelia stepped through the threshold of the kitchen and walked over to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Owen said with a smirk. “I think everyone else in the house is already up and going. Would you like a plate of Zola’s breakfast? It’s delicious.”

“Mmm, sounds incredible,” Amelia replied, offering an indulgent smile to Zola. “I’m just waiting for Maggie to be done in the shower so I can hop in there, but will you two save me a plate?” Amelia pressed a kiss to Zola’s forehead as she surveyed their work over their shoulders.

“Of course, Auntie Amy,” Zola said as she plated the French toast and eggs, smiling with pride.

As Amelia walked out of the kitchen, she noticed that the water was no longer running, so she went back to her room to grab her towel and toiletries. Once she had everything she needed for her shower, she headed to the bathroom.

“Amelia!” Maggie shrieked as Amelia strode into the bathroom. “Have you ever heard of knocking?” Maggie, who stood in front of the mirror wearing only a pair of underwear, was struggling to figure out whether she should try to cover herself, push Amelia out the door, or just continue yelling.

“Oh, calm down,” Amelia scoffed. “They’re just boobs, and you’re my sister. Besides, I’ve seen ‘em before when we all walked in on you and DeLuca on the couch that one time when you told us you were ‘calling it an early night.’”

“So not the point!” Maggie yelled as she clasped her bra. “When a person is in the bathroom, you knock before walking in. That’s just the polite thing to do.”

“Polite is overrated,” Amelia replied as she began removing her pajama bottoms. “Speaking of which, I’m about to get naked, so if you’re as much of a prude about my body as you are about your own, you might want to take a hike.” Maggie just rolled her eyes and huffed before grabbing her stuff and walking back to their shared bedroom to get dressed.

When Maggie came into the kitchen a few minutes later, Owen, Meredith, and the three kids were all sitting at the table enjoying breakfast. “Good morning, Maggie,” Meredith said with a smile. “Sit down and grab a plate! Zola made breakfast for everybody.”

Zola handed Maggie a plate of eggs and French toast. “Enjoy, Auntie Maggie!”

“Thank you, Zola,” Maggie said as she took the plate from Zola. “At least someone around here has manners.” When she was met with quizzical looks from the two adults at the table, Maggie supplied, “I was getting dressed in the bathroom after my shower, and Amelia just barged in without knocking! Can you believe her?”

Meredith laughed. “Can I believe that the woman who got into the back seat of my car stark naked would walk in on her sister in the bathroom? Um, yeah, I think I can.”

“She what?!” Owen snorted.

“Oh, we didn’t tell you about that time?” Meredith asked with a laugh. “It was a while ago. Amelia was late to carpool, and when she finally got in the car, she was naked as the day she was born. Maggie and I both tried to explain to her that a person should be clothed when getting into someone else’s vehicle, but Amelia didn’t really see the problem.”

Owen just laughed and shook his head. “What time do you two get off tonight?” he asked, trying to figure out the dinner plan for the evening.

“I get off at six,” said Maggie.

“I should be off at six as well, provided none of my surgeries have any complications,” Meredith said. As Meredith described the surgeries she had scheduled for the day, everyone finished eating their breakfast and rinsed their dishes in the sink. Meredith glanced down at her watch once the dishwasher was loaded. Seeing the time, she headed down the hallway to check Amelia’s progress. The water was no longer running, so Amelia was done with her shower, but she seemed to still be in the bathroom. Meredith knocked on the bathroom door. “Amelia, get moving. We need to leave soon, otherwise we’re going to be late. You have five minutes to be in the car or we’re leaving without you.”

A half-dressed Amelia rolled her eyes from the other side of the door. “Settle down, Mer, I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Five minutes, Amelia. I’m not kidding,” came the reply.

As Meredith stepped away from the door and came back down the hallway, she found Maggie standing there with raised eyebrows, holding Bailey’s hand. “Are we actually going to leave her here?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, we are. She needs to learn how to get herself moving on time in the mornings. If a toddler can be pried out of bed in the mornings, then a grown woman can be as well. Besides, weren’t you the one who was complaining ten minutes ago about how she walked in on you in the bathroom? This is like karma or something.”

“I’ll go get the kids in the car,” Maggie said before turning to lead Bailey out the front door.

Amelia finished lotioning her legs, threw on the rest of her clothes, and then put her still-damp hair up. It wasn’t fancy, but it would have to do. She had to fumble around the counter a bit to find her deodorant and body spray. She finished by dabbing a bit of make up on her face and then jogged down the hall to her bedroom to find her lab coat and handbag. As she returned to the kitchen, she was surprised to find Owen standing alone in it. “Is everybody already in the car?” she asked as she turned to put her shoes on.

“Actually, they already left,” Owen replied. “Meredith said to tell you that five minutes means five minutes and that she’s tired of waiting for you.”

As Amelia’s eyes narrowed, Owen began to slightly regret his decision to repeat exactly what Meredith had told him to tell Amelia. He had been on the receiving end of Amelia’s ire enough times to know that a pissed off Amelia Shepherd was not a fun person to deal with. Well, unless they were having angry sex. Angry sex with Amelia was actually one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. Oh shoot, he needed to stop thinking about that right now or she would notice how aroused he was getting and then she’d be even more angry and that wouldn’t be good. Owen was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Amelia’s voice.

“For all of this talk about being sisters and taking care of each other and all of that bullshit, she really is quick to hang me out to dry. No, don’t worry about me, Meredith. It’s not like my car is back at your house or anything. It’s not like I have no way of getting to work and now the chief of neurosurgery is going to be an hour late to the hospital because she had to get an Uber because her own sisters can’t be bothered to wait three extra minutes to give her a ride.”

Owen decided to cut her off before she really built up steam. “Amelia, you don’t need to call an Uber, I’ll just drive you in.”

“Really, are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” she asked, instantly switching from angry ranting to a much gentler tone.

“Of course not,” Owen replied warmly. “I’m about to head out anyway, so it’s no extra trouble to put an extra body in the truck with me. And besides,” Owen said with a smirk, “I really don’t want to deal with the wrath of Bailey when her chief of neurosurgery shows up an hour late and she finds out that I could’ve had her here on time, but refused to carpool. This is self-preservation.”

“Ass,” Amelia said with a smirk, punching Owen lightly on the arm. The two headed out to the garage and climbed into the truck and then headed off on their way to the hospital.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Owen finally spoke. “It’s nice to have a bit of time to catch up with you again. I feel like we haven’t talked in quite a while. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Amelia replied with a soft smile, turning her head a bit to face him. “It’s been kind of nice to get to live with the kids again. They make me laugh every day, and they bring so much energy to the house. I really do love those three. Oh, and I guess Meredith and Maggie aren’t half bad either when they aren’t busy leaving for work without me.”

Owen chuckled. “So have you been seeing anyone?” Owen asked, deciding to just bite the bullet and ask the question that had been on his mind.

“No, have you?”

“No, I haven’t. I haven’t really wanted to. I do get a bit lonely being in that house all alone, though. I’m glad you guys are out here with me this week. It’s really nice to have more people in the house and to have people to talk to. I miss that.” As Owen finished talking, he let out a breath. He hadn’t necessarily meant to get that candid. The words all just kind of tumbled out. He was hoping he hadn’t gone too far and made Amelia uncomfortable.

To his relief, she smiled. “I just hope we haven’t been too much trouble for you. We can really be a handful sometimes. I don’t want us to give your home more liveliness than you intended when you offered to let us stay there.”

“What? Amelia Shepherd? A handful? No, that can’t be!” Owen said with mock surprise, placing the hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel to his chest. He was rewarded with a slap to the chest as Amelia giggled.

“I was trying to be considerate, but then you had to go and be snarky,” she whined. Owen and Amelia both smiled good-naturedly, laughing a bit before settling into silence as they headed down the streets of Seattle.

After another several minutes of silence, Amelia glanced up and noticed that they weren’t far from the hospital. She took a deep breath and glanced out the window before she began speaking. “You know, after the plumbing is fixed and we head back to Mer’s house, you can call me if you’re lonely. We could hang out. As friends, I mean. We could hang out as friends. You know, just two friends who might sometimes get a little lonely and just want to spend some time with somebody else, having dinner and chatting or whatever. If you want. We could do that if you want. But if that would be weird then forget I said anything. Because I know that it might be kind of weird to hang out with your ex-wife like that. I totally understand. Completely.”

Owen was half-tempted to let Amelia continue to ramble because it was cute and he missed it, but he decided to be merciful and cut her off. “I’d really like that,” he said, turning to look at her as he smiled softly.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling into the parking lot of Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital.

“I think I would like that too,” Amelia said quietly.

Owen pulled the truck into the parking space, and he and Amelia turned to glance at each other as he shut off the engine. Their eyes lingered for just a moment before they both climbed out of the truck and headed into the hospital. As they walked into the physicians’ lounge side by side, they ran into Meredith and Maggie in the doorway. Meredith leveled Amelia with a reproachful glance while Maggie just stared at the two wide-eyed. “Amelia, I’ve told you a hundred times: you need to get yourself going in the morning and be on time for carpool. We can’t just wait for you all the time. We have places to be, and the world doesn’t stop for you.”

Meredith continued out the door without waiting for Amelia’s reply. As the door dropped shut behind Meredith and Maggie, Amelia glanced at Owen and let out a small giggle. While she knew that perhaps she should’ve felt bad about being late for carpool yet again, she couldn’t help but be glad they had left without her.

[friendliest-place-on-earth]

The River (Sprace)

Mod Ind here! This was based off a little part of a role-play my friends and I did (mood rose was one of them!) and I thought I should take the idea and make it into a fully fledged story. Anyways, enjoy!

Read on AO3 here

Tw: Homophobia

To say it had been a long day for Spot would be an understatement. Of course no one was doing what they were supposed to, requiring a stern reminder (some would call it a “threat” but, whatever) from their leader. Not only that, but a few of the Brooklyn boys had gotten a good soaking a few days prior, so they needed to be looked after while they healed. He’d gotten some help from Blink which did not go unnoticed. It was finally the end of day, everyone was winding down and it was finally Spot’s quiet time. He had the door to his room shut (being the King has it’s perks, including getting a bedroom) and he was settling into his bed with a book he’d found in the park. He’d just gotten to a really good fight scene when he heard yelling outside his window. As he went to the window to tell whoever it was to pipe down, he realized they were calling his name.

“Spot! Hey!” someone called, but he couldn’t quite make out who it was. Spot climbed through the window and onto the fire escape. As he stepped into the light of the cool sunset, he noticed the three figures standing outside the Brooklyn lodging house. There was Davey, Crutchie, and Race who was slumped over on their shoulders. He took in the sight of the three boys and quickly threw himself back inside and went down to let them in.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, opening the doors. Now that he was closer to Race, he saw he looked and smelled completely awful. He smelled like sewage and look completely drained. They’d seen each other after a good soaking and he’d never looked so completely defeated.

“W-we were on our way back to the lodgin’ house when Crutchie and I found him coughing up water by the river bank.” Davey explained quickly, supporting Race’s weight on one shoulder.

“Yeah ever since Jack left for that vacation with Katherine, we’ve been watching over the Manhattan boys.” Crutchie added. Katherine had saved up enough money to send Jack to Sante Fe for a week and of course she wanted to come and supervise.

“So why is he here, why didn’t you just take him back with you?” Spot asked, getting Race into one of the chairs in the front.

“All he would say is that he wanted to see you, we weren’t too far away anyways.” Davey said. Race seemed aware of everything, he just wasn’t really responding to it all.

“Alright, you guys stay down here I’ll get him cleaned up and stuff. I think it goes without saying that he’s staying with me tonight.” Spot declared gruffly. It was best not to argue with Spot once he set his mind on something to Davey just nodded quickly. Spot went over to Race, who was being looked after by Crutchie.

“Hey, I’m gonna take you upstairs okay?” he said quietly, carefully taking Race’s arm.

“I can walk!” he groaned, yanking his arm away and then almost falling. Luckily, Spot was there to grab him before he completely embarrassed himself.

“Sure pretty boy, I gotcha.” Spot wrapped his arm around Race and slowly led him up the stairs. Crutchie wiggled his eyebrows, no doubt hearing Race’s new nickname.

“I’m fine!” he waved dismissively. They reached the top of the stairs and Spot led him to the showers.

“Alright, can you stand long enough to not die in there?” Spot raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah ‘m fine.” Race said.

“You’re a liar but just get yourself cleaned up, you smell awful.” he joked. Race hopped into the shower, hoping to clean off what was most likely river gunk as Spot waited patiently outside.

“I don’t feel so good…” Race mumbled just loud enough for Spot to hear him.

“Are you gonna-” the sound of Race vomiting into the shower answered his question.

“Don’t turn off the water when you get out, let it go down the drain.” Spot instructed and soon Race stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I didn’t wanna put these back on cause they smell like river.” he said sheepishly. Spot tried not to stare at his chest and just kept remembering that Race was only there because was hurt.

“That’s fine, you can take some spare stuff from me.” he offered. He led Race into his bedroom, avoiding the other newsies was easy since they were all asleep or too busy focusing on something else to notice the two of them. Once they were alone again, Race got dressed in some of the clothes Spot stole from taller boys and got himself comfortable on Spot’s bed.

“You stay here one second and I’m gonna go get you some food and water. When was the last time you had either of those?” Spot asked, heading towards the door.

“This morning?”

“You haven’t had water since this morning?” Spot asked in shock. No wonder the threw up earlier.

“I haven’t had the best day.” Race answered.

“Racer I swear…” he trailed off, leaving Race in his room. Race busied himself with the hem of the thin blanket until Spot returned with cup of water and a piece of bread.

“Thanks.” he said quietly, taking the cup and quickly drinking all of it.

“Finish that bread too, you should get some food in your stomach.” Spot said. Race slowly munched on the food he was given, and Spot refilled his cup once again.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” Spot asked.

“Well, there was a river,

“Yeah?”

“and I was in it.” he finished cooly.

“We both know someone put you there, I know you’re smart enough not to fall in and you sure as hell didn’t go in for a swim.” Spot fired back with a little more intensity.

“Look, I’m just really tired and I’d like to-”

“No, Race you’ve got to tell me who did this to you! I can’t just let you get beat up like this and not do anything about it!” Spot exclaimed, getting frustrated. Race flinched as he raised his voice and Spot immediately regretted it.

“Don’t you understand, that’s the problem! There’s nothing you can do about it.” Race hissed, wanting to yell but also not wanting to wake up the Brooklyn newsies.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Spot asked.

“It was the Delanceys, you happy now?!” Race said, his words laced with venom.

“No, not in the slightest. I want you to know you can trust me to tell me what happened.” Spot calmed down slightly, not wanting to frighten his guest. He also silently cursed the Delancey’s and everything that had happened to them prior to this moment to make them this way.

“You’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” Race sighed.

“Nope! Might as well tell me.” Spot reached over to wrap an arm around him, but stopped short.

“Sorry, where are you on physical touches right now? I know what just happened must’ve-”

“Hugs are good, I might need a little more physical reassurance if that’s okay with you.” Race admitted, looking down at his hands.

“Alright.” Spot wrapped an arm around Race’s waist instead and pulled him in close.

“Please just tell me what happened.” Spot said quietly. He was genuinely concerned for his best friend, and seeing him so broken and defeated took a toll on him.

“Alright…” Race leaned into Spot’s side and rested his head on his shoulder.

“So you know how we were on the fire escape outside the Manhattan lodging house?” Race began.

“Yeah, I had to drag you home after you fell asleep in Medda’s theater.” Spot laughed.

“Well apparently the Devil Twins were walking past and they saw us being all close and touchy, kind of like right now.” Spot started to slowly remove his arm from Race’s side in fear that he would upset him, but the curly haired boy just pulled himself in closer.

“They didn’t seem to like that at all. Then today, while I was out selling, probably not even an hour into it, they closed in around me and kicked me in the stomach a few times.” Spot winced at the thought of the person he cared so much about getting hurt where no one could help him. Race’s hands started to shake slightly as he remembered what had happened to him.

“That’s not even the worst of it. You see I happened to be near a small river at the time, I was moving from one spot to the other, and they got the idea that they would… throw me into it.” he said quietly, feeling his eyes burn with hot tears.

“I was real scared cause I was already having trouble breathing after the wind got kicked outta me and then they grabbed me. I fought hard, I really did, but they ended up bringing me to the river bank and throwing me over the side. The last thing I saw before I hit the water was their nasty grins looking back at me.” he gripped the fabric of Spot’s shirt real tight.

“It reminded me of the way the boys looked at me when I spent my first night at the Refuge, like I was something they couldn’t wait to just tear apart. You know, I was one of the first Manhattan boys to go there, before Crutchie or Jack even.” he admitted. Spot had heard stories of Race’s time at the Refuge and he knows about the burn marks that prove it. Spot felt his best friend tremble violently underneath his arm so he decided a different seating arrangement would be best. He slowly guided Race to sit in his lap so he could wrap him in his arms.

“I finally hit the water and went pretty far underneath. The current wasn’t going too fast but I was very disoriented and I thought I was going to drown. I was worried it was going to be those two who were gonna tell you and everyone else that I’d died. I was finally able to get to the surface and pull myself out, and I just kind of laid on the ground for a few minutes until I started coughing up water. If you think throwing up is bad, you don’t even wanna know how that felt. I was there for quite a long time until Davey and Crutchie found me and brought me to you.” Race picked at the hem of Spot’s shirt as he pressed his head into his chest.

“I-it wasn’t even the river or the soaking that got me, they called me these names- awful things. They told me I was worthless and that they were doing the world a favor by getting rid of me.” Race’s voice shook as he let tears fall down his face. Spot tightened his arms around the taller boy as he held him.

“Anthony I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like.” he whispered, half appalled by the Delancey’s actions and half filled with worry over the entire thing.

“They said they were gonna come find you next…” Race whispered, barely audible. He finally finished telling his story as he buried his face into Spot’s shirt.

“It was so awful.” he sobbed, holding onto the other boy for dear life. He shook and sobbed as Spot held him protectively and slowly rocked back and forth until Race finally stopped.

“Hey, I ain’t going anywhere.” Spot said soothingly.

“How do you want me to fix it?” Spot asked. Race looked up with wide eyes and frantically shook his head.

“You can’t do anything. Imagine how it’ll look if you charge the Delancey’s, lookin’ to avenge me. It’s only going to confirm whatever they were thinking.” Race explained.

“Alright alright, I ain’t gonna do nothin’” Spot told him, letting anger boil up inside of him. Race nodded tearfully as he continued to be rocked by Spot until he eventually fell asleep.

(Part 2)