#she really could have done with a line or two

[julieloves074]

‘A little bit… or a lot’ (Min Ho x Reader)

Summary: K.I.S.S resident Marco will not leave Y/n alone so the night at the club Min Ho comes to her rescue and they set themselves up in fake relationship to make sure the guy gets a hint, but will their friendship survive the blurred lines?

Warnings: kissing, divorce

Word count: 8.7K

(Noy my GIF :))

“Not again,” I say out loud subconsciously, Kitty and I are once again in the boys flat just studying with Q, and I lay my phone face down frustrated.

Q and Kitty turn towards me immediately, annoyance showing in their eyes, but not at me “What did he say this time?” Q asks.

I just pass him my phone; Kitty gets up from lying on her stomach and looks over his shoulder, her face twists and turns as she reads the message.

“I mean it could kind of be kinda… romantic- no?”

“What can be seen as romantic?” Min Ho says walking in through the dorm door and taking off his shoes, looking between the three of us.

I let out a loud sigh and twist to lie on my back laying a pillow over my face, “It’s Marco he keeps message me,” I hug the pillow to my chest.

Q laughs, “He’s pestering her and very clearly not getting a hint,” he says pointing the phone in Min Ho’s direction, he pulls a disgusted face as he reads the message.

“They say you are what you attract,” Min Ho says with a level of sass and walks into his room closing the door behind him.

“No one has ever said that” Kitty exclaimed in a whisper and the three of us burst into a fit of laughter.

Q passed the phone back to me and I immediately threw it to the other side of the sofa, “That guy seriously needs to chill,” Q says turning back to the textbook and question sheet.

“Honestly I’m so tired of it, I’m scared he’s gonna try something in person,” I said, both my friends shoot my empathetic looks, trying to be supportive, but it doesn’t look like Marco is going to leave me alone any time soon.

Kitty started to gather up all her resources, “Okay time to stop this,” she says getting up and putting the stuff in her bag. I try to argue with her that we’ve only done half the homework questions, but she ignores me and keeps packing.

“Look I need time to get ready for this date with Praveena, I really think things could work out between us, so I want to put the effort in,” she explains, Q and I look at each other and identical smiles spread across our faces, “Plus I’m still yet to match make you and I think it’s time you find someone for you, and it might help Marco move on,” I give her the can we not talk about this right now look but then Q agrees.

He stands up to leans against the sofa arm and looks down at me, “We’re gonna have so much fun, come on smileee,” he says reaching out an arm and pulling me up.

We agree to finish the work tomorrow and to meet in two hours to head out to the club. A new DJ was playing and most everyone in the friendship group wanted to go.

When we arrive the atmosphere is perfect, the music is energetic but cool, the lights and decorations are the exact level of out there and complimentary, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Kitty is quickly stolen away by Praveena and taken to the dance floor.

Dae, Q and I make our way to get mocktails before also heading to the dance floor, I watch Q looking around as if he were shopping for guys, which to be fair was exactly his plan for the night- a little distraction from the stress of tomorrow’s race and I was not going to stop him. Dae on the other hand looked stiff and uncomfortable but trying to move around doing something that kind of resembled dance moves.

“Oh my god,” Q says suddenly, and I follow his eyeline only to be met with the one and only, enemy on and off the track: Jin. Q looks… frankly offended at the sight and excuses himself.

When I turn back around to Dae he’s disappeared too, I look around but I can’t see him so go back to the bar to get another mocktail, then I finally find him talking to a group of girls at the back of the club and then I find Q making out with Jin so I went back for another drink and sat at the bar just people watching, all my friends were spread around.

That’s when I heard his voice. “Y/n!” Marco said sitting down next to me, I closed my eyes for a second. Great – now him. I couldn’t have my sad song music video moment, and I had to talk to him.

“Marco,” I say and it accidentally comes out a little too high pitched.

“What is such a pretty girl doing sat at the bar by herself?” he asks shuffling his seat closer and ordering a drink, being a good friend, I wanted to tell him, by not cockblocking any of my friends but I just don’t answer.

I finish the last of my drink and turn around to put it on the counter, in turn he places his hand on the counter almost touching my arm and leans closer to me, “Did you wanna get out of here? We could go grab some food or something,” he asked and I cringed internally.

Opening my mouth to answer he interrupts me, “Come on Y/n, we can go to that barbeque palace you love,”.

I grab my bag and stand as I say, “Marco I don’t-”

“There you are babe,” someone says from behind me, I feel an arm being strung against my shoulder, I turn to see Min Ho just as he presses a kiss to my forehead. He sees the confusion, and maybe a little fear in my eyes and nods subtly to Marco.

“Yep, just been waiting for you,” I reach my arm around his middle, he pulls me closer to him.

“Bye Marco,” Min Ho says simply and turns us away from the brunette walking in the direction of the exit.

What the hell just happened.

“What the hell just happened?” I said out loud this time as the outside breeze soothed me.

Min Ho just sighed taking his arm away, “I just saved your ass, you’re welcome by the way,” he explains.

“Thank you,” I say still in the state of shock.

“He really must not talk to many girls,” he continues, “you looked, repulsed, to say the least,” then one of his brows raised, “I can’t tell who I feel worse for, you, or that poor, helpless guy,”.

I shove my shoulder into his slightly, he swayed to one side by a step, a smile playing on his lips, I shook my head in response.

“What were you doing at the club anyway? I thought you said,” and then I turned on my best Mino Ho accent impression, “The sweat and heat of those places is terrible for my skin,”. The cool January breeze was rustling against my skin, and it was a pleasant contrast to the club which was starting to feel claustrophobic.

“I wanted to hear the DJ live, I’m considering hiring her for my next party,” he says placing his hands into his pockets, I wrapped mine around my jumper.

“So how long has this guy- what’s his name Mark- been bothering you?” Min Ho asked as we walk out towards the dorm buildings.

“Marco,” I say- he knew his name just chose to be petty, then I ran my hand through my hair but didn’t look at him when I answer, “Honestly pretty much since beginning of last semester but the messaging started getting more frequent over the break,”.

“Why haven’t you told anyone about it earlier?” he asked as if I was being an inconvenience to him, I explain to him that it’s never been anything big, he wasn’t being rude or demanding he just didn’t seem to understand that I wasn’t interested and the more I was pushing the more he was latching on.

“No every man can be as good as me, clearly,”

“Clearly,” I join in on his banter, “but seriously, thank you for saving me, I know how much how that must have killed you inside, to have to align yourself with me in such a way,” I said exaggerating, of course he didn’t actually feel this way, we are friends, but it was an inside joke in the friend group that Min Ho was just better than everyone.

Min Ho stopped in his track taking in a deep breath, “Fine, I’ll be your pretend boyfriend,”.

“What?- Min Ho I’m not asking you to-” the words fell out my mouth quickly.

He brushed me off immediately, “Until Marco leaves you alone. You should be thankful that I’m such a good person,” he starts walking again. I take a few quick paced steps to catch up to him.

“Min Ho you really don’t have to, I think he’s got it,” I argued but I  agree with the words coming out of my mouth, if anything a one off like this was likely to propel Marco more, as if this were some kind of challenge for all I knew.

“You’re so ungrateful,”

“Ok fine,” I say defeated, “Thank you,” this time with more emotion.

“It was time to do some charity work anyway,” he said messing up my hair, my face scrunched up in reaction. The rest of the way home in his car was spent arguing about what the best snack for film night was, then what the best film is and soon enough we were back on K.I.S.S grounds.

Min Ho walked me to the door of the girl’s dorm, now that we were alone we discussed what this arrangement meant, and what we were going to tell our friends. The answer was nothing, we were gonna leave them in the dark, one of them was likely to blabber and this needed to seem real. We would act as a couple in front of others but mostly when Marco was around. Not going over the top but just enough to make him believe. When we got to the door we looked at each other.

“What do we tell them when they ask how this happened?”

“We say that you finally fell for my handsome look and irresistible charm,” he says running a hand through his hair, “I mean it was bound to happen, everyone does,”

“Okay Min Ho, whatever,” and then we quickly came up with our cover story.

“Night L/n”

“Goodnight Min Ho,”

Then he was walking in the direction of the boy’s dorm and I look at my phone that was buzzing mercilessly the last few minutes, a bunch of texts were shining brightly back at me.

Kitty: Where are you?

Kitty: Helloooo

Kitty: We want to leave soon

Q: Girl we’re worried answer the phone

Q: missed call (2)

Kitty: missed call (3)

Yuri: Y/n meet us by the front door

Kitty: Swear I’m going to expose all ur secrets if you don’t answer

Shoot.

I was so wrapped up in the Marco situation and then Min Ho that I didn’t even think to text any of them. Not wanting to call any of them right now I text Kitty a quick explanation, that I wasn’t feeling well and Min Ho took us home.

My reply was met with several other messages, but I just got inside our room, got changed and jumped into bed. Twenty minutes later the girls arrived in the dorm but I was  pretending I was asleep, which I almost was, so a little white lie. They would’ve wanted to know what happened and I wasn’t quite ready to fake having a relationship in front of my friends.

<3 <3 <3

Over the next few days all was pretty normal, I didn’t see much of Min Ho outside of lessons, he was busy with avoiding his father and I was busy helping Kitty figure out who this Simon guy we are searching for is. Though on Thursday morning there was some flowers delivered to our door whilst we were having breakfast, I managed to get to the card before the girls thankfully and since then they wouldn’t stop prying.

That was until tonight, our weekly movie nights, I was feelings blessed with the fact that it was finally Friday, but I also didn’t know how to behave.

“I’m dreading whatever we’re gonna watch tonight,” Yuri says as we walk through the boy’s dorm building.

Kitty is flinging her popcorn bag, “I know I hate it when the boys pick, it’s always some kind of action film,” she says.

“They’re not always that bad,” Julianna says bringing Yuri’s hand, which she was holding, up to her lips to give it a kiss.

Even though I didn’t mind the action films or the thrillers it was when they put on horror films that I wanted to run and hide- I don’t judge what people like but it’s lowkey not for me.

“Oh guys remind me to ask Jin for that smoothie recipe before we leave tonight,” Yuri says as we arrive at the door. Kitty reaches for the handle and lets herself right in, we all take our shoes off and say hello to everyone. Giving the boys the benefit of the doubt they did prepare hot drinks and brought some blankets into the living area.

“Are you girls ready to dive into Infested?” Min Ho says coming out his and Dae’s room, the latter following behind him with a closed lipped smile.

“Nooo,” I drag out and look at Q begging him for some support, he just gives me one of those pitying smiles. That night on the way back from the club I told Min Ho that I refused to go watch the film in cinemas or at all.

Dae pats my shoulder as he walks past, “Sorry Y/n it was Min Ho’s turn to pick this time,” he said taking the drinks from the counter and passing them out to those who have already sat down.

Min Ho took a place on the edge of the sofa, I helped Q grab the bowls with snacks and lay them on the table as the others chatted, Jin was using the remote to turn on the film. I look towards Kitty to go join her and sit in front of the sofa when Min Ho catches my eye.

He nods his head ever so subtly, urging me to come sit next to him, I abide with some reluctance.

“L/n” he says lifting the blanket, I sit down with my legs curled up to my body, “I really do think you’re going to hate this movie,” his smile is sadistic, I go to elbow him and he flinches away.

“That’s my opinion,” I say sweetly.

After asking if everyone was ready Jin turned the movie on, and as expected it was creepy and eerie and my mouth was curled up in discomfort within the first 15 minutes. When everyone is deeply focused on the film I turn my head to Min Ho slightly.

“Also- flowers. Really?” I whispered shaking my head.

“Do you want this to be believable or not?” he said back still watching the screen, does he actually send flowers to the girls he was dating, just because?

“Who knew you were such a gentleman,” I teased and I just watched him roll his eyes before turning back to the screen, my distraction did not want to distract me from whatever the hell was happening on the screen.

About half an hour passed before jumpscare scared me so bad that I turned my head to the side covering my eyes and almost hit Min Ho who was sat very close to me. A low chuckle escaped him, then he was laying his arm around me, I felt myself stiffening, it was unexpected, but it only took a second for my body to relax.

After Kitty returned from the toilet later on during the movie she looked at me, her eyes widening as if I’d grown another head, her eyes scanned from me to Min Ho, back to me then to him in a questioning look. After I failed to satisfy her need for answer she sat back down and pulled her phone out, then I felt another two pairs of eyes on me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on the screen. How long did we have of this film yet?

At some point Min Ho started to brush his fingers back and forth across the skin on arm, it was calming, and if it was anyone else, in any other circumstance I’d find it endearing, romantic.

When the movie was finished, I was half asleep on the sofa, my head on Min Ho’s chest, no one said anything about our position as they started getting up and cleaning, but they did look back once or twice to check if they were seeing things right.

I got up to help washing up, putting my jumper back on after unfurling from the warm blanket.

“So don’t worry guys we’ll be back with a super cheesy romance next week!” Kitty says clapping her hands together and then hugging Q goodbye. I laid the tea towel on counter ready to go get my shoes back on too.

One step into my journey I was stopped, everyone was still chatting and getting ready to leave, as a pair of arms wrapped around me.

“Bye babe,” came Min Ho’s voice, a little louder than usual, just to make sure everyone heard, and before I knew what was happening, he was turning me around slightly, his eyes going to my lips, then to my eyes, and he clearly did not read the panic in my eyes as he leaned down and kissed me briefly.

“Bye,” I said almost breathlessly, turning back to see all our friends trying to hide their shock.

The walk back to our dorm was very quiet, Yuri complained that no one reminded her to get the smoothie recipe from Jin and Kitty was listing rom coms, but what would usually be loud was rather quiet.

That was until we were all within the space of our dorm.

“What the hell was that?!” Yuri exclaimed  

“Yeah, I think you have some explaining to do,” Kitty says fidgeting excitedly

I hang up my jacket before turning back to them, “Guys it’s not a big deal,”

“Not a big deal!” Kitty started, “Is this where you disappeared to last week after ditching us at the club

“Actually, you guys all ditched me…”

Julianna joined in “So not the point, but seriously you can’t say it’s not a big deal,”

“You and Min Ho have been butting heads all of last semester,” Yuri states.

“That’s irrelevant, what happened that night?” Kitty pestered excitedly.

I lifted myself to sit on the island counter, “He ended up coming to the club so he could listen to the DJ, he thought he might hire her for his next party, I bumped into him on my way outside, the hot air was giving me a headache and we just talked, and then came back and talked some more,” I pull my lips into a shy smile.

“Just talked?” Yuri says consciously.

“Okay talked and then, we kissed, it was an in the moment thing but then yeah, we’re just in this kind of middle ground where I don’t really know what’s going on,”

“Oh my God, so the flowers the other day were from him?” Yuri pieces it all together.

“I mean I have literally been telling you guys for moths,” Kitty says turning to the other two girl putting her hand out, palm upwards, “You both owe me,” she says. I shook my head and jumped down from the counter, Kitty had once said as a one off to me that maybe this line of annoyance with each other was more, but I just brushed her off, and now I feel bad tricking her, but it wouldn’t be for long.

<3 <3 <3

We all got stuck into the semester really fast the next few weeks, lessons were harder, and Kitty was actively doing opposite of what her intention was this semester with Praveena and Yuri, but at least we were making progress on her family situation. Min Ho and I were acting like a happy couple every time we all met up or Marco was around, which was decreasing the more times he saw Min Ho with his arm around me or whispering something judgy about someone else in my ear making me laugh.

This meant we started spending more time together and I was learning so much about him, one night when everyone else went out we cooked dinner, well more accurately he cooked dinner whilst I tried helping but he just sent me away to the other side of the kitchen island and I watched him sheepishly.

“Stop looking at me like that L/n” he said not even looking up from the vegetables he was chopping, and I felt a blush rise on my face.

There was also the first time I spent time in his room, we had been texting and I was complaining about homework for one of the classes and he told me to just come over and he would help me. We were doing homework sat on his bed listening to music, his back pressed against the wall, and I was laying on my stomach facing him as we worked out the answers.

The someone creaked open the door slightly, “I want to come in so stop making out!” Dae warned and Min Ho and I looked at each other as if that was the most disgusting thought. He was not a bad kisser, in fact the last few weeks I’ve found out quite the opposite, but I wasn’t about to boost his ego.

We all also ended up going to the Moon’s cabin for the holiday weekend, unfortunately his dad didn’t come up, Min Ho said that there was something more important with his favourite son. He played it off cooly, but I could see the hurt in his eyes but he said he didn’t want to talk about it.

That first night when everyone else had fallen asleep I snuck out to the kitchen to get some water, and there was Min Ho sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone, he looked tired with the light illuminating his face in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, but he just murmured a reply. I grabbed a blanket and went to sit down next to him, “maybe you should talk to him Min Ho,” I raised the idea gently.

He shook his head and put his head down, “And say what? Oh by the way dad thanks for not coming to the weekend getaway you wanted and always choosing everything and everyone else over me, I don’t think so” he says sharply but I know it’s directed at me. I turn his face to look at me, the persona falls then.

I put my arms around him and pull him close into a hug, running my hand up and down his back and nape as his head is hidden against my neck.

“Be careful L/n or you’ll actually fall in love with me,” he said turning his head ever so slightly to look at me.

“You wish,”

But he didn’t move away, we sat in silence for a while and when I whispered his name I got no reply, only to notice that he’d fallen asleep.

The Kitty came out the corridor to see us, I was running a hand through his hair as I was also starting to doze off, and Kitty whispered, “Is he okay”.

I nodded, “Yeah he will be,”, and then she was heading back to the bedroom with an I told you smile. Over the last few weeks, I did come to care for Min Ho more, as a friend, I got to know more about him and how he’s actually a human with his own shit going on, but he just doesn’t let people in. The rest if our time was spent, playing games and sitting in the hot tub in the evening, there was minimal drama apart from the whole Yuri, Julianna, Kitty and Praveena love letter, and Min Ho’s dad bailing but we made the most of the trip.

By the time we got back it was only two weeks until the school’s annual ball, this year’s theme was going to be ‘Blossom Ball’. In all honesty I didn’t think Min Ho and I would be keeping this thing up for so long but maybe it was time to end it before the ball, I knew more than a couple girls were hoping for my downfall so they could go with him, and in part I did feel guilty, one of these girls could be someone he could really fall for.

After overhearing another not-so-subtle conversation in one of my extracurricular classes I decided that it was time to put it to an end.

That was until I was walking through the common room area and was bombarded by 5 people with signs, pink glittery writing spread out on them, music was turned on really loud behind me, a well known Korean love song. The signs read:

‘Y/n’ ‘Will you’ ‘go to’ ‘the dance’ ‘with me?’

Then Marco burst through the crowd of guys with a single flower in his hands, dropping down to one knee in front of me.

I could feel the eyes of all the other students, and their whispers, mostly judging Marco, because like come on, from the onlooker of an outsider, who asks out a girl to prom when she’s had a boyfriend for the past two months? I could feel the frustration building up under my skin.

“Marco can you just give it a break! I have a boyfriend, that I really like for gods sake. Leave me alone!” I say with more fire than I had intended

“I guess that’s my cue, excuse me mate,” Min Ho says coming from behind Marco who is stuck with a mortified face looking towards us.

“Now that that joke of a man is out the way, will you go to the Blossom Ball with me L/n” he asked lifting the pink roses he held, for a moment something fluttered in my heart and I reminded myself this is not real, it’s for show. I just needed to get through the ball and then we could go back to the way things were, and my heart would stop doing summersaults every time he touched me or smiled at me.

I pulled the ‘are you joking face’ and a smile, a genuine smile, spreads over my lips, I can almost drown out the pathetic complaints from Marco. A but of guilt was eating away at me but not even those surrounding us were paying him any pity, still those who were looking  were looking at Min Ho and I.

“Yes, of course,” I reply and reaching for the flowers, the second they’re out of his hands both of them are on my face and he kisses me boldly and I can feel myself blush at the reactions of all the students. The thing about Min Ho was that he didn’t need big signs or loudly blaring music to make something grand and meaningful.

“Well, I hope you have a black dress to wear so you can match my suit,”

“And what If I don’t?” I asked in a challenge.

“Then I guess you’ll be going with Mr grand gesture over there,” he points his thumb behind his back and shrugs before walking away. I watch him walk away for a moment, the audacity of this kid.

“You coming?” he asked turning around briefly and I shake my head before catching up with him.

<3 <3 <3

Thankfully the dress that I bought a while back was black and I have to admit I was looking fucking hot, with my hair curled and let down, my makeup and the black and white corsage that Min Ho dropped off earlier.

“Well well well, Min Ho is being treated tonight,” Kitty says coming out from the bathroom, now too in her dress, a satin red gown, she looked absolutely stunning, anyone would be lucky to have her.

“And who are you planning on wooing tonight Miss Covey,” I said pointing up and down her body, “You look stunning Kitty, all eyes will be on you,” I tell her and she comes give me a hug, everything in Kitty’s love life was still a little bit on fire and in chaos but she was dealing with it, I was there for her. She was doing okay and we found her family, who wasn’t exactly talking to her yet but we got the letters from Peter and we would make them listen one way or another.

We finished getting ready and headed out, the ball was on the other side of campus in one of the new buildings, I couldn’t wait to see all the decorations, and the view was said to be absolutely stunning. We met Yuri and Julianna outside the dorm building and made our way over together. The air was a perfect mix of fresh but also pleasantly warm so none of us had to wear jackets.

“You guys all look absolutely fire,” Q states the second he sees us in an exaggerated voice, complimenting little things about our looks and conveying that we may burn the building down with how hot we look.

“Is it time we talk about you now diva? Come on give us a spin,” Kitty exclaims and helps him do a little twirl. Then Jin comes back with 2 drinks and drags Q to the dance floor, Julianna and Yuri follow.

“So,” Kitty says hands behind her back and looking out at the huge room, it truly was stunning, there was petals everywhere and the colour scheme mixed pink and white and black and gold, it looked elegant, and almost too fancy for a school, “Where’s the lucky guy?” she asks.

“His dad needed something from him, but he should be here soon,” I said and spotted Praveena in my eyeline, Kitty’s gaze followed mine, “Maybe now’s the time?” I suggested, Kitty has been trying to work up the courage to talk to her since everything went down at the cabin but she can’t seem to find a way and it’s been eating away at her.

She asked five times if I was okay being left along for a while and I urged her to go, she deserved to be happy, and something was telling me that Praveena might be willing to hear her out. I headed over to the bar to get myself a drink, pulling out my phone to see a message from my mom asking me to call me when I’ve got a quiet minute. A wave of anxiety passes through me.

“Hi, are you okay?” I look up at the unfamiliar voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I’m Josh, you just started to look really pale I thought you were about to faint or something,” he stuck his hand out, the boy has dark blonde hair, and he is learning against the bar with a friendly smile.

I shoved my phone back into my little purse, and shook his hand, “No I’m okay, thanks though,”

“Unpleasant message?” he asks and sits down, I take a seat next to him and explain that my family had a poor history of messaging me something really vague things when it was actually something serious and it would make me worry, he then took it upon himself to make me laugh, in his words laugher was one of the best medicines. I found he was from the year above and originally from Canada, and that he wanted my number and to take me out.

The conversation was enjoyable, and he bought me another drink so I gave him my number, he even wanted to dance but I couldn’t not save my first dance for my ‘boyfriend’, Kitty would be devastated. When he left to go to talk to some of his friends, I looked at the time, I hadn’t realised an hour and a half had passed already.

It was then that a figure walking in caught my eye. Min Ho was wearing a stunning black and white suit, his hair in his classic style and yet it looked extra lush right now. Watching him run his hand through it felt as though it was in slow motion. Q who was stood near the entrance caught his searching eyes and pointed in my direction.

“You look… pathetic,” he says in that very Min Ho way of his as he walks over, head turning slightly to the side observing my dress.

I smile subconsciously, “You too,”.

“I’m sorry I’m so late you know how my dad is, when he’s in a good mood it’s one thing after another,” he said earnestly.

I shook my head, brows scrunching, “Oh no don’t worry, I met a new friend, so he kept me company,”

“Who was it?”

“His names Josh, he’s in the year above us,” I say but Min Ho doesn’t seem to look impressed.

He reached his hand forward, a few strands of hair falling forwards, “Come on let’s dance,” he says completely ignoring what I just said, “You think people will believe you’re actually my girlfriend if I don’t even dance with you,”.

A reminder rings in my head, “True, Marco might think it’s his time to swoop in,” I say and something about his facial expression changes ever so slightly, the change so small and sudden that I can’t read it before it’s gone.

He doesn’t say anything just takes a hold of my hand and pulls me towards the dance floor, we stand before each other for less than a second before I reach my hands to rest around his neck, a small awkward chuckle escapes him. This wasn’t new, I have been in very close contact with him, but this felt different.

“Plus, I know this is your favourite song,” he says looking right into my eyes, as if he could see right into my soul.

We talked about Kitty, and Q and Jin, and his dad, and what was going to happen with the big talent competition, and what our plans were for the summer neither of us noting that when these plans were happening this was going to be over. Without either of us realising about three songs had passed, we made each other laugh and then tried to pull serious faces but my attempts were poor in comparison to his.

“This is not fair

“I lo- I really, really like your laugh,” he says correcting himself, I brush him off and move one arm to brush my hair behind my ear. He lifted his hand and tucked the side of my hair behind my ear, then his fingers went to my chin to lift my gaze towards him, his eyes scanning my face.

“L/n” he said, and I could feel my heart rate increase.

“Y/n!” Kitty’s voice shouted out as she approached with our friends, the music turned upbeat and she was pulling my arm to come dance with them, and that’s how the rest of the dance was spent, drinking fancy looking mocktails and running around and dancing with our friends.

It was a few days later when my mom had flown into Seoul and was going to meet me in a restaurant at the edge of town, I told Min Ho that I was more than capable of going by myself, but he insisted that drive and come with me, I only let him when he agreed to stay in the car. In the car he argued at me about not telling him my mom was flying in and that she could have used his family’s private jet rather than coach but I told him he was just being ridiculous.

When we arrived at the restaurant I saw mom through the window, she was wearing bright colours and had a gleaming smile on her lips as she scrolled on her phone. Some of the anxiety that I was feeling the last couple of days started to fizzle away. I pulled the sleeves of the hoodie that I stole from Min Ho in the car up and walked in.

“Y/n honey!” my mom stood up to give me an embrace.

“How are you mom?” I asked, “I’ve missed you, and dad,” I said I took the seat opposite her.

She brushes her hair behind her ear, “Oh it’s been quite chaotic I do have to say,” she starts and grabs a menu, “But let’s order food first then I’ll explain,” she said, I swallowed down and even though I wanted to argue I chose not to, not yet.

The food arrived and it was delicious, mom was talking telling me about some work drama and my aunt’s new baby which was lovely, but she was avoiding whatever she came here to tell me about. After she laid down her cutlery and picked up her phone I spoke up.

“Mom, can you tell me what’s going on?” I asked nervously.

The look in her eyes when she looked up at me had my heart dropping, brows burrowing and worry painting itself over my face.

“Your dad and I are getting a divorce,”

The world stopped. It was like I’d heard her say the words, but they weren’t registering in my head.

“We’ve been separated since you went back to school after the break,”

“What? How long has this been going on?” I asked frantic.

Mom moved her hand over the table and grab mine, they were soft and warm, “About halfway through last semester, we- we’ve been trying to make it work but we’ve decided we’ll be happier this way,” she said, her thumb running over my skin was not comforting. In all truth it was making me feel nauseous.

I didn’t say another word, I grabbed my phone and stood up, putting it in my back pocket and ignoring my mom’s words, her calls out to me. The only thing I could see clearly was the door, I needed fresh air.

When I was outside I couldn’t stop walking, I headed towards the outside area of the restaurant, towards the back of the fenced land.

“L/n!” a voice called but I didn’t turn around.

“Y/n!” they called again, at this point I reached the end of the land looking outward tears rolling down my face.

“Y/n are you okay? What happened?” Min Ho was asking frantically looking me over.

“They’re getting a divorce,” I whispered, the phrase sounded foreign on my lips, “Which means it was all for nothing,”

His brows furrow and he steps closer, “What was for nothing?”

“My whole childhood I spent listening to them argue, being the one in the middle, smoothing out the creases, bring the common ground, it was all for nothing,” I said again and felt the tears doubling.

“It’s going to be okay, it’s going to get better,” he said and reached his arms wide towards me, I took a few deep breaths and let out a sob, before wrapping my arms around him and letting him pull me close as I cried into his chest, shaking my head in denial.

He brushed his fingers over my hair moving it out of my face, holding me tightly.

“You must think I’m such a mess. You definitely did not sign up for this,” I say trying to add a playful tone, but it came out more pathetic than anything.

“Y/n I’d be more worried if you weren’t reacting like this,” he said laying his chin on my head, “You’re” he paused momentarily, “You’re kind and caring and loyal and have had a lot of pressure put on you your whole life, it’s normal for you to feel like this, this panicking need to fix it, even when you know you can’t make everyone happy,” he explained and I could feel my heart start to slow as I followed his breathing subconsciously.

After another few moments I took another deep breath and pulled away, still holding onto the sides of his open denim jacket, and him the sleeves on the hoodie, not much further apart.

“Thank you,” I said, and he wiped the last of my tears off from under my eye.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said and then his eyes went from my eyes to my lips and back up, I could feel him leaning closer and my body naturally reacted, as if it were a dance it knew well. Then his lips were on mine, and they were soft and warm, and moved at exactly the right pace. I kissed back without a second thought, poured everything I was feeling into it, he pulled me close to his body. That’s when the second thought came and I pulled away.

“Min Ho, stop, what are we doing?” I asked, running my hand over my forehead, everything in my head a big mixture of mixed emotions and I could feel the tears building up again, the pressure in my chest making my shoulders rise, “There’s no one here, no need to pretend,”

“Y/n”

“In fact, I think the mission has ran its course,” I started, “Marco’s not bothering me anymore, so thank you, for everything, really. But we’ve been avoiding this because we don’t want things to be weird, but I think it’s time to come back to reality,” the words felt like sandpaper in my throat, “we should head back,” I said looking at his face, such a mixture of emotions on his face that I couldn’t read them. I forced myself to walk past him, he didn’t follow straight away but then his steps echoed behind mine.

We sat in silence the whole way back to K.I.S.S and I got out the car before he could say anything, I rushed to my dorm only to be met with all three of the girls upon arrival. The second they spotted me, all faces concerned and I started to cry again. Greving my parents divorce and what felt like the loss of a friendship I so desperately didn’t want to end, my words were harsh, and I didn’t want to lose his him, but his face was a clear sign.

They all questioned what happened, Julianna made me a tea, Yuri brought in a blanket and Kitty cooed me in her arms. I didn’t mention Min Ho, I didn’t know how to go about that yet, I didn’t want to make either of us look like dickheads, ending this right after what I found out about my parents.

I managed to give myself a huge migraine, so I went to bed early, and fell asleep after crying for what felt like hours.

When I woke up in the middle of the night I looked at my phone to see the time, and what was a few messages from Min Ho.

(20:30) Posh boy: Are you feeling any better?

(20:58) Posh boy: Do you need anything? I can bring some chocolate or ice cream

(21:25) Posh boy: Please answer I’m worried about you

The last was sent a couple minutes ago,

(02:23) Posh boy: I know you’re asleep, but I’ve ordered your favourite tea and those biscuits that you love to steal from me, they should get here tomorrow

(03:00) Posh boy: Night L/n

I turned my phone back on its other side and turned around to face the other side in my bed, and forced myself to go back to sleep.

<3 <3 <3

I barley left the dorm for days, at the end of the weekend I sent an email to Alex explain the situation and explaining that I needed a few days, he accepted the request if I kept on top of the work. On Wednesday I went back to lessons, I hadn’t spoken to Min Ho since that day, he was probably avoiding me, just like I was avoiding him.

Josh and I had been texting a load since the night of the ball and I was staring to feel like maybe it could go somewhere, he respected that I needed some space right now but was already planning on some activities for us to do when I was up for it. It was making my heart hurt a little less.

When Friday rolled around, I knew I would have to face him: move night. 

The girls got in their comfies in the evening and were grabbing the snacks we bought earlier in the day, ready to head out to the boy’s room. I was dreading it and if the girls realised, I was being quiet they didn’t say anything.

When we arrived all was pretty normal. We made hot drinks and put out the snacks. Min Ho didn’t say anything to me and I hadn’t engaged either. He was sitting in his usual spot on the side of the sofa but I took a seat on Kitty’s side and laid my head on her shoulder, she quickly laid her arm around me and put her head on mine, rubbing my arm to soothe me, to tell me she’s got me. I think they all knew something was off between Min Ho and I too, that it wasn’t just the divorce I was upset about anymore, but they we’re giving me time.

I paid very little attention to the film and was ready to leave as soon as it was over. When we were back into our room Kitty sighed and turned around to me, “What’s going on with you and Min Ho, you guys seemed off tonight?” she asked.

I turned to her quickly, “We’ve ended things,” I say quickly “I think we’re figuring out how to behave around each other again,” I said earnestly.

Kitty looked both confused and worried, “Did something happen? Don’t get me wrong I love the guy but if he hurt you, I swear,” she started coming over to sit on the edge of my bed.

I gave her a sad smile, “Kitty, we just didn’t work,” I said and everything about the look on her face said she didn’t believe me, but she took the hint when I slid down my pillow and wrapped myself up in my duvet.

On Monday when I was walking to Mr Moon’s class for managers when I overheard Kitty and Min Ho talking inside, I quickly stepped back and listened from outside.

“Min Ho you’re losing her, she was so happy, literally glowed when you guys first got together, what happened?” Kitty demanded, “and don’t tell me things just didn’t work out because I’ve already heard that excuse, be honest with me,”.

I could hear a shuffle, and Min Ho taking a deep breath, “I don’t think she’d want us to be having this conversation right now,” he said.

‘Min Ho whatever you did I can see in your eyes that you care for her, so fix it before it’s too late,” Kitty says softly this time, then there’s a silence, “Oh my god,” she continued, “It wasn’t you, she ended it,” Kitty said.

“No, Kitty come on, it was a mutual decision,” he tried to argue, he tried to put in some conviction into it, but the lie was coming out weak.

“Min Ho,” Kitty said with conviction, “If you care for her you’ve got to fight, one thing I’ve learned from Lara-Jeans is that love isn’t easy and doesn’t always start in the way you expect it to, but it is worth it,” she said.

“Oh, hey Y/n,” Praveena said coming up to me, I could hear shuffles in the classroom “I wonder what Mr Moons has planned for this lesson,” she said completely ordinarily.

“Sorry I’ve got to go,” I said walking away quickly.

Later that afternoon after lessons had finished, I was leaving the main building to head back to the dorm, we were all having dinner in the boy’s dorm tonight and I was already running late because I had to tutor and bless the girl, but she was clueless. I was trying to use my arms to shield my face as much as possible from the rain that chucking down.

Then I heard a voice shout out, I turned around to see Min Ho, waking towards me.

“Y/n!” he called out and I stopped in my tracks, “finally you give me the time of day,” he says sharply, his tone makes me stand up straighter, “firstly so much for staying friends and acting normal,” he said and then ran a hand through his hair, water dripping down his face, “secondly-”

I interrupted him, “I’m sorry,”

“Y/n/”

“Look I’ve been talking to Josh and I-” this time he tried to interrupt me but I prevailed “Min Ho, he’s a good guy and I think,” I sighed, running my tongue over my lips, “I could really like him, and there’s plenty of girls waiting for you to give them a chance, but this thing between us, we blurred the lines and we need to stop” I said with the frustration coming through, rain falling harshly down my face, this is already hard enough, to know this is going to end, so why is he making it harder, giving my heart beats of hope, “We both deserve something real,” I sounded tired, even to my own ears.

“Y/n I don’t want this to end,” his voice came out just above a whisper, and I felt my heartbeat triple.

“What?” I asked, quieter than I expected.

“Look I know this was not the plan, but- I went to the club that night because I saw Marco and his buddies leave and they were teasing him about finally making a move on you, so I followed them, but I didn’t know why yet, then somewhere in this whole situation I realised that I was jealous, then it became real and I realised I didn’t want it to end, and ever time you’d bring up that we we’re doing it because of Marco it crushed me,” he said and I just stated at him.

“I think I fell in love with you,” he said looking at me, the rain pouring down his face, “A little bit… or a lot,”.

My eyes scan his face frantically. Min Ho had fallen for me. Just like I had fallen for him. Before he could move or say anything else, I fling my arms around him and kiss him passionately, holding him as close as I possible could, and that was still not close enough.

“I love you too,” I said after I pulled away, laying my forehead against his, I could see him smile before I closed my eyes again and he pulled me into a tight embrace. It felt like the relief was coursing through both of our bodies.

“It’s good to hear you finally admit it,” he said back to his natural cockiness, “Everyone eventually falls for me, it’s my charm unfortunately,” he said.

“Well stop using it on other girls or I might get jealous,”

“You know what? That does kind of make me feel some sort of way, I quite like my imaginary version of you jealous and it’s quite hot,” he muses, and I just pull him in for another kiss, running my hands through his hair. His hands on my waist pulling me close.

Then when we came back into the building, whilst still soaked, we came clean to our friends, and whilst most of them were shocked Kitty was very offended, but all in all they were glad we worked it out because it was obvious long before this that there was something bubbling under the surface.

“I can’t believe you pulled a Lara-Jean on me! Now I’ve fallen for it twice,” Kitty said running her hand over her forehead.

“I think this means Y/n is taking over the title of chaos queen,” Q said shaking his head, and everyone started laughing, Min Ho had his arm around me, and I naturally leaned into his chest as I giggled, and he kissed my forehead.

[ambiguous-avery]

When He Slides In...

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 2768

Summary: ...And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, PWP (Plot? What plot?), pining, pure filth because I have no chill, no beta we die like men

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. This was the title of an audio I listened to, and the line lives in my head rent-free. Plus I figured this would be a great birthday gift for our one and only boy! Thanks to my bestie for reminding me of this momentous day!

The first time you met the Winchesters – and subsequently ended up beneath the eldest – was when you had called for some back up with a vampire nest you had found in a rural town in South Dakota. It was a routine hunt, but the nest had taken up residence on a farm with far too many places to be ambushed from. Thankfully, there was enough practiced experience between the three of you that the hunt only left you with several bruised ribs, Dean with a too-close-for-comfort almost bite, and Sam with a bloody gash cutting across his cheek. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. You had joined the two of them at a bar in town, eager to take a well-deserved moment of reprieve. And you left the bar with Dean. Just Dean.

After you parted ways, you fully accepted that it would be a one night stand, and your paths would never cross again.

Fate had different plans for you.

It was a standard haunted house case that pulled you to a small town in the middle of bumfuck, Iowa. Something something father killed his family when he was discovered having an affair before turning the weapon onto himself. And now he was killing other cheaters in the town. You’d have been tempted to leave him be – was he really doing harm by getting rid of those kinds of people? – if it weren’t for the fact that he would go after the affair partner as well who wasn’t always aware of just who they had gotten in bed with. It was a cut and dry case. Except you couldn’t find where the damn body had been buried, so you were having a hell of a time salting and burning the bones. The extended family had been so ashamed of what their son had done that they had buried him in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town. 

You had just about hit the end of your rope when two very familiar Winchester boys rolled into town in a sleek Impala that purred like a kitten. And there he was. The one and only Dean Winchester, all swagger and bravado, and fuck, had he gotten hotter? Seriously, God hadn’t played around when chiseling him from marble.

“Hey, sweetheart, long time no see.” He grinned at you, his voice rumbling. 

Leave it to the grave-desecration-brothers to pinpoint where the cheater had been buried. It took several hours in the library pouring over a convoluted family tree before the three of you eventually found a living descendant and another hour talking with her and convincing her to let you guys go through old family books she had stored in her attic. Cheater’s sister happened to jot down which grave was his in her diary. Bleeding heart saved the day. You had ‘cheers’ed to that before knocking back your beer and excusing yourself from the bar with Dean in tow. 

Despite the long span of time you had spent apart, Dean was still familiar to you. The way his lips felt as he kissed you. The way your body seemed to slot against his just right. You couldn’t forget how he felt. Not when every touch of his had seared your skin and left imprints in its wake. Dean had ruined you for anyone else. Because he didn’t just leave his marks on your body. He had carved out a piece of your heart and taken it, leaving a hole in it that ached with every beat. Dean was a heartbreaker, and you were just another name on a long list of casualties. But you were on that list, and you lied to yourself, convinced yourself that it was good enough for you. 

“Dean,” you sighed against his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Glad you didn’t forget me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing you again. You could never forget him. Could never forget the way his hands felt as they teased at the hem of your shirt before sliding up your side. Could never forget the scent of leather and bourbon and cedar that encompassed him. Could never forget the way he looked at you and you let yourself believe just for a fleeting moment that maybe, maybe, you were something more than a hookup in his eyes. Dean’s touch was a flame, and he was going to kindle your entire world to ashes. And as long as he kept looking at you like that, you would let him. Over and over and over again. 

He trailed kisses along your cheek, across your jaw, and further down the side of your neck. His lips left your skin just long enough to slide your shirt over your head and make quick work of the clasp of your bra. He sucked a bruise just below your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue before dipping lower. Dean was attentive, leaving no part of you physically untouched but all of you still wanting. His nose dragged between the valley of your breasts, leaving another mark there. 

“You’re gorgeous; I hope you know that, sweetheart,” he murmured, and your response died in your throat as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, toying with it with his tongue.

There was so much you couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell him how much more you wanted from him. It was silly. You barely knew him in the bedroom and even less outside of it. But there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that you couldn’t shake. An unspoken pull. Something that kept the two of you in the other’s orbit. You were doubtful Dean felt it. It was just you and your silly little heart looking for anything to quell the loneliness that threatened to consume you. 

Dean moved lower, deftly ridding you of the last of your clothing so you were bare for him. And then his mouth was on you, stubble scratching lightly, and all thoughts were wiped from your mind in an instant. His fingers dug into your thighs, all lips and tongue on your clit and folds and fu-uck. You carded your fingers in his short hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned, a low and guttural sound that sent vibrations through your core, and your answering cry was breathless, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his head or the bed sheets or anywhere. The sigh you let out when he slid a finger in you must’ve unraveled some of his self control because a second one joined it none too soon. He curled them, and your back arched.

 If you could form coherent thoughts, you might have had the wherewithal to wonder about when or where or how he learned his talents. But such wasn’t the case as everything tightened. Your tension collapsed into a litany of moans and gasps, and Dean was a solid presence between your legs. He was a maestro, and you were his instrument. He plucked at your strings until you came shuddering around his fingers, your nails biting into his skin. He coaxed you through your release, gently sucking and keeping a steadying hand on your leg. Your head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving. There were too many words that threatened to be the next to spill from you, so instead, you pulled Dean up by the hair and put every word you wanted to say to him in a kiss. It was deep and longing and you tried so hard to tell him just how lucky you felt that you got him for the night with it. If that’s all you ever got of him, it would be enough. It wouldn’t really, but you could delude yourself long enough to convince him.

He met your passion, one hand tangling in your locks and the other slipping beneath you to press against your lower back to provide counterpressure as he rolled his hips against yours. Your jaw went slack as you felt the length of him pressed against you, hot and heavy and hard beneath his jeans. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to get more skin to skin contact. Gasoline coursed through your veins, and if Dean didn’t set you ablaze this very instant, you were sure you would spontaneously combust. Thankfully, Dean was a smart man. He picked up on your desperate plea and stripped out of his shirt before briefly standing up to strip out of the rest of his clothes. 

As he looked down at you, his green eyes met yours, and you could see him searching for something. Acceptance? Approval? Adoration? All three? You’d give him all of those. Whatever it was, you could only hope that he found it as you looked up at him, sprawled out on the bed and propped up on your elbows. You took your time taking him in. The cut of his jaw. The broad expanse of his shoulders. The tattoo that sat just above his left pec. Your gaze dropped lower, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip before dragging your eyes back up to his again.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” you ask, a sly smile tugging at the edge of your lips.

Dean pounced. He yanked you into a kiss, messy and primal, crushing you into the bed with his weight. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down the length of his back, needing to leave a mark of your own on him so maybe he’d remember you for more than a fleeting night. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound ringing in your ears. There were no barriers left between you two, and you arched your body up into his, looking for all the contact you could possibly find. His hand dropped down to your ass and pulled you against him, his cock frotting against the junction of your hip. You raked your fingers in his hair and pulled it, pressing your mouth to the side of his neck and biting and sucking there until Dean was cursing under his breath.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean bit out. You released him, eyes locked onto the angry red mark you had left. He fumbled with his discarded pants for a brief moment before pulling a condom from the pocket. 

“Smart man... smarter than me." 

It was good that he had his wits about him because you were more than ready to throw caution to the wind. You were a hunter. You risked your life every day. What was one more risk? You knew you’d be thankful when your brain wasn’t drowning in lust, though. He rolled the condom over himself before kneeling between your legs again. He grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs wide, lifting your ass off the bed before settling it on his thighs. Dean took a moment to guide his cock into place. His gaze met yours again, waiting and pleading. You gave him a subtle nod.

Dean rolled his hips, sinking into you with slow thrusts. You audibly sighed as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He said your name, reverent and sincere. He said your name. Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not some nickname he probably used to mask the fact that he forgot the name of the woman under him. Your name. You whimpered.

“Dean... I missed you too,” you admitted. But he didn’t understand the depths of your words. He couldn’t. He kept a hand on your knee, keeping you splayed open for him. You braced a hand on the headboard and turned your face aside, biting the knuckle of one of your fingers and panting into it.

“No, no, pretty girl. Keep your eyes on me,” he said, leaning forward to grab your chin and guide your eyes back to him. The shift caused him to sink just a little deeper into you. You squeaked when your eyes met green ones. There, behind the lust and desire, there was Dean. And for a moment, you could see the vulnerability there. The lonely man who wanted to be needed. Needed to be wanted. 

“Move, Dean. I need you.”

And that’s all it took. Dean surrendered to what felt good and snapped his hips, pounding into you, thrilling at the way you moaned and moved with him and accepted every aggressive stroke like you were made for it. He lowered his body and leaned forward onto his hands so he could drive himself deeper into you. His hands found yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. He pinned you to the mattress, caging you beneath him. You shouted in response, your legs clenching against Dean’s sides and the drag of his cock setting every nerve alight. 

“There you go, pretty girl. You can take it. You can take me. I know you can.” His words were fuel for the inferno that threatened to devour you. You were trembling. Aching. He was the musician; your body was the instrument. You were a violin string. You were tuned too tight. You were breaking.

Your groans and cries turned to fervent whimpers, and you fought against his hold as your release danced just beyond your reach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Dean clicked his tongue, commanding your attention. You stared up at him, eyes wide and bright, drinking in the sight of him as though it would be your last.

“Please,” you begged. Your voice sounded so utterly wrecked in your own ears, but you didn’t care. You had abandoned your dignity long ago. “Dean, please. Need more.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He let go of one of your hands, and his thumb found your clit, drawing tight circles around it. “Come on, pretty girl. Need you to come on my cock.” His breaths mingled with yours, and your answering cry was high and thready as you lost yourself in him. Your voice, so needy and desperate, must’ve been enough to be Dean’s undoing because the hand holding yours tightened as he rutted into you until he came in hot, throbbing pulses that sucked the energy out of the rest of his body. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan as his whole body shuddered above you.

He pressed his forehead against yours, brushing stray hairs out of your face with his free hand. His other still clasped yours tightly, fingers still laced together. You leaned up to kiss him, and your lips met in a tender way. An unburdened, unhurried kiss. A kiss for the sake of kissing.  You could’ve stayed like that forever, but all too soon, Dean broke the kiss and peeled himself off of you, his hand leaving yours. He stood, moving to discard the condom before grabbing a towel from the bathroom. You sat up, watching his retreating back and taking pride in the red lines your nails had left in their wake. You could only hope he would remember you.

When he returned with a damp washcloth, he coaxed you back against the pillow as he wiped the sweat from your brow, muttering sweet nothings all the while. There was silence between you for a long while, and you realized too late that your time with him was coming to an end. He had set you aflame, and now you would have to find a way to rebuild. But you’d do it all again if Dean asked it of you. But when he spoke, you hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth.

“Do you maybe wanna... you know... stay?” he asked quietly. “For the night,” he added. You swallowed.

“Um... isn’t Sam due back sometime... soon?” Why were you making excuses? This opportunity didn’t even show up in your dreams. Dean wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Well... not to be presumptuous or anything... but I might have told him to get his own room for the night.”

“Oh.” Oh. He had planned on you staying with him? You were done for. 

“Yeah... Uh, nevermind. You don’t have to. You’ve probably got somewhere better–”

“I’d love to stay,” you blurted out. “With you,” you clarified, as if it weren’t obvious. The smile that split across Dean’s face was blinding, and it became your new life’s mission to do whatever it took to see it directed your way time and time again.

“How about I order us some food? We can watch a movie and cuddle?” And really, you were only human. A request like that from Dean Winchester was as easy to fulfill as breathing.

---

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[call-sign-shark]

Heyaaah Reb. Shark's back again. My apologies for the messy comment but my mind is screaming because of this chapter and typing on an old keyboard with my long nails is a pain in the ass.

What a rollercoaster of emotions it was. It was such a satisfying read as they finally stop fighting against that irresistible pull they experience. First of all I thought it was adorable that Nina loved baking and thst it was her first way to keep her mind busy. As soon as Tommy joined her, I looked forward their heartfelt conversation but gosh I wasn't ready. I didn't expect her to open up entirely to him but it felt so freaking good. My poor love, she must have felt suffocating her own damn life. The line “This pain that you have,” he whispered, “share it with me" had me melting. I'm sucker for this kind of hurt/comfort trope. I don't know how he does that but he always find the right word to say to reassure her. This is directly linked with this line "She didn’t know how else to explain it except to say that they seemed to understand each other." its exactly what I was trying to say, they understand each other on a diffrent level and I can't imagine how relieving it shoud be for Nina, who has been misunderstood all her life. To the extent she thought she was the problem, the abnormal one.

And I found out Stefano and his brother had a habit of dragging girls into their car. I didn’t know what it was that they did to them, back then. But it was scary. I stole my brother’s pocket knife, just in case, and always took it with me.” -> GOSH SOMEONE KILLS STEFANO PLEASE. He's a monster.

“He asked me if I had, perhaps, done something to… encourage that behaviour. To make him believe that I wanted that kind of attention.” -> I know it was a common thought and still is but brooooooooo it got me angry (and sad for Nina who's got blamed)

Then, I must say that I particularly adore how you describe the longing Tom has for Nina. I'm reallz fond of of those scene in a fic where we get to see the other character's pov and how he's getting intoxicated by the MC. You did an excellent job at conveying how he's now walking on thin ice.

And last but not least.... THIS IS THE MOST ROMANTIC AND HEARTWARMING SMUT I?VE NEVER READ. Tommy taking her virginity so carefully and always asking for her permission had me screaming. He's so considerate I could feel how much he cares for her as the words aligned. Nina's reaction also astounded me: this is so raw, so realistic for a first time. Whether it is the fact the first finger he inserts in her feels midly uncomfortable or the pain of being penetrated for the first time. Her little thoughts like "it couldn't possibly fit' made me giggle but they were also so realistic. I really loved it. This was really an intense and passionate sex scene -- and also so important for Nina. A threshold has been crossed and these two are going to be inseparable <3

"that was what Nina had been warned about all her life. That was the sin she had been taught she should avoid at all costs, the sin that would bring shame and ignominy upon her and all her family." -> I think this was one of my favorite liens of this chapter. The word are so simple but heavy with meaning and importance. It echoes to Nina's deepest core, here fears and education. It also felt so true to the thought of a girl discovering the joy of se in a first love/safe context. Gosh I just wanted to pat her shoulder and smile at her proudly.

Also can we talk about Tommy cleaning her afterwards? What a gentleman.

I loved it Reb, so happy to get back to one of my favorite work ever written.

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

CHAPTER 9

Summary: Tommy learns something more about Nina as she opens up to him about her past. Unable to ignore the feelings they have for each other any longer, they reach a point of no return.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, references to past attempted assault, harassment, violence, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2. This chapter is 18+, smut (it’s a spoiler but I need to say it). This is my first attempt ever at smut cause it isn’t my cup of tea, so it might not be that good. Also I didn’t want it to be just porn but I wanted it to be ✨functional✨ to the story and tell something, so I hope I did that.

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Nina muttered a few curses under her breath as her elbow accidentally hit the bottle of milk standing on the table, spilling its content everywhere. She hastily grabbed some rugs, trying her best to contain the damage. Maybe deciding to bake so late at night hadn’t been her best idea. But she needed to keep herself busy or she would’ve lost her mind, because apparently sleeping was no longer an option for her.

She couldn’t sleep without having nightmares anymore, and all of them involved the same person. Stefano. Sometimes he had her pressed into the wall again, and no matter how hard she screamed, no one would come save her. Sometimes he was standing in her father’s study, arranging their marriage as if she weren’t there. Sometimes he was waiting for her at the end of the aisle, with a grin on his face and a glimpse of victory in his eyes. And every time she woke up feeling his weight on her again, and his breath on her face, and his hands up her legs. She told herself she was being dramatic, that she should’ve been glad nothing had actually happened and forget about it, but the feeling of disgust that had been pervading her since that fateful morning just wouldn’t go away.

What her father had said during the lunch had been the last straw. All that talk about leaving her free to make her own choice was nothing more than empty words, a way of keeping her sweet until he managed to persuade her. And she was scared, because she knew that if he made that decision for her, she wouldn’t have a say in the matter. Because the alternative would’ve been a break with the Spinietta family, and that was something they couldn’t afford.

She missed her nightly talks with Tommy. For almost a month, he had managed to take her mind off all the ugly things that were happening in her life. Talking came easy with him. She didn’t know how else to explain it except to say that they seemed to understand each other. It was surprising, to say the least. Sure, there were parts of him that stayed a mystery to her, and parts of her that she still couldn’t let show, but they felt more like something to discover rather than an obstacle. Still, that meant nothing. Those parts were not hers to discover, and he wasn’t supposed to get any closer to her than he had already done. So they had pushed each other away, and reduced their interactions to the bare minimum. But that didn’t make it any easier. She missed him, despite her attempts to keep him out of her head, and now that they didn’t talk anymore it was as if she was on her own again, trapped into a world that spoke a whole different language.

However, Nina wasn’t the only one who felt the weight of that distance. She was the one person who had made Tommy’s stay in Italy somewhat bearable, and her detachment had left him feeling… hollow.

It had also brought him back to the reality of his situation, though. There was a war going on on more than one side, and he needed to do what was necessary for him and his family. He was walking on a thin line that became more precarious the more he waited. He had two days left to propose, or else the deal would be off, and God knew what would happen then. The most absurd part of it all was that what rationally should’ve been his major concern was overshadowed by something else entirely. He was scared of what would happen to Nina once he’d be back in Birmingham with Agnese on his arm. He didn’t know what was exactly going on with Spinietta, but if there was one thing he had learned, it was that when a man there decided he wanted something, he’d take it, one way or another.

If he could’ve been sure it wouldn’t have started yet another war, Tommy would’ve taken his eyes days ago. And when It didn’t matter how much he told himself that it was the injustice that made him furious, deep down he was aware it wasn’t true. The truth was he cared about Nina. He cared about her in a way he wasn’t supposed to. He had no idea how it had happened, but she had managed to make her way into his heart with steps so light he didn’t even realise it until it was too late. And now thoughts of her filled his mind night and day.

He didn’t think he’d ever feel like that about someone again, after Grace. Grace had been the first person he had opened up to in a long time, he had allowed her to see those parts of himself he never let show, and he had realised there was still a small light inside of him, a sparkle that had survived the storm brought by the war. And he had thought that maybe there was still hope for him. When she betrayed him, the darkness engulfed him again, and any shred of hope he had left faded into dust. But just like a match, Nina had made that sparkle burst into a flame, showing him that it had never been extinguished in the first place. It overwhelmed him how much he wanted her. He could feel her in his bones, in his veins.

It would’ve been a lie to say that the thought of talking to her father hadn’t crossed his mind. But Nina was not something he could take for himself. He couldn’t rob her of her freedom. Even he wasn’t that bad. He could only be content with the little time he had with her, and carry it with him when everything would be over. Maybe that was the reason why he walked out of his room that night, in the hope that she’d be in the kitchen, making herself her terrible tea.

And there she was, except that - much to Tommy’s confusion- she wasn’t making tea. She was surrounded by bowls and pans, and there was flour spilled all over the table. Apparently unaware that she was no longer alone, she kept on stirring the batter with a whisk, with an aggressiveness that gave away her inner turmoil.

“What are you doing?” He caught her attention, earning himself a brief glance before she shifted her eyes back on her work.

“Baking,” she replied, her imperturbable expression clashing with her snappish motions.

Tommy frowned, walking further into the room. “It’s three in the morning, Nina.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Nina’s statement made him cock an eyebrow in disbelief. It didn’t take a genius to guess that she wasn’t baking in the middle of the night because she craved some sweet treat, and her short answers and dismissive behaviour were all Tommy needed to understand that there was, in fact, something going on in that mind of hers.

Slowly, as one would do with a wounded animal, he approached her, and he could’ve sworn her breath had hitched in her throat. “Are you alright?” He asked, coming to a stop next to her.

Her movements ceased, and her hand clenched around the whisk before she let it go. She swallowed, keeping her gaze on the table, and Tommy wondered whether that reaction was due to the question or their proximity.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She recollected herself, sending him a sideward look.

Tommy knew better than to push her. Insisting would only cause her to shut down even more, and that was the last thing he wanted. So he pretended to believe her, and took a seat at the table without another word.

Silence fell in the room as Nina resumed mixing the ingredients, and a new feeling began to rise up inside her. It had been a while since they had spent some time alone, and she had started to surrender to the fact that it would never happen again. Yet, there they were. She would’ve liked to say that it was as if they had never been apart, but in truth it was different, now that she wasn’t lying to herself anymore. With the acknowledgment of her feelings, came the awareness that whatever was going on between them wasn’t destined to last, that the end was near, and that every moment they spent together could’ve been the last. And it didn’t feel right.

She had never felt that way about anyone. She didn’t even know she could be capable of it until she met him. He had made her question everything, even herself, and she despised him for it. She despised him for making all her certainties crumble, for taking everything she had ever known and turning it into an undefined mass of doubts, for making her feel things she was sure she could never feel for anyone else.

Nina could feel Tommy’s eyes on her has she put the chocolate cake in the oven, and that alone made her hands shake. Against all logic, his gaze on her was something she both craved and escaped, it made her feel uncovered and… seen. She wasn’t used to being seen.

Closing the oven, she pushed those thoughts away. There was no point in torturing herself over what could not be changed. She checked the time on clock on the wall. Forty minutes.

“I have to clean this mess,” she murmured, more to herself than to Tommy. One look at the disaster around her, and she already regretted her decision. She inhaled deeply as the thunderstorm of emotions she was trying so hard to contain threatened to slip out of her control, but soon tears welled up in her eyes. She turned her head away so that Tommy wouldn’t see them, but it was too late.

“Oi,” he furrowed his eyebrows, getting up from the chair. “What’s wrong, eh?”

Many things were wrong. Her family, Stefano, that. Whatever that was. “I have to clean this mess,” she repeated, her voice cracking.

“It’s alright, I’ll help you,” he said reassuringly, taking a few steps towards her, worry painted all over his face.

Nina shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “No, no I can do it. It’s…” she trailed off, the knot in her throat making it difficult to even speak.

Tommy’s heart painfully squeezed in his chest. It was overwhelming, to see the suffering she hid behind her mask of fierceness and wit. It was never about the tiredness, or the lack of sleep, or the fucking dishes. She had things eating at her from the inside. Just like him.

“C’mere,” he gently brought his hands to her face, forcing her to look at him. A few tears fell from her eyes, then others followed, like incessant stream that could no longer be held back. “It’s alright,” he said softly, wiping them away. “It’s alright.”

Nina closed her eyes, letting herself be soothed by Tommy’s deep voice and the tender touch of his rough hands on her skin. His fingers traveled through her soft hair, brushing it away from her tear-stained cheeks, before resting on the sides of her face again. “This pain that you have,” he whispered, “share it with me.”

She brought her hands above his, looking up at him through her lashes. Her thumbs faintly stroked his skin, and he could read a hint of hesitation in her features. But when she guided his hands off her face and took a step back, he was certain that she had closed off again, leaving him outside of her mind.

As though nothing had happened, she started to clean up, and Tommy with her, despite her protests. For a while, the clinking of pots and the rush of water were the only noises that broke the stillness of the kitchen. Then, unexpectedly, Nina started to speak.

“It has been going on since I was fourteen,” she said, scrubbing a bowl. Tommy stayed silent, afraid that she’d change her mind if he even made a sound.

“I was in the..” she broke off, looking for the right word. “…ginnasio. I don’t know what it’s called in English. It’s after elementary school,” she explained. “Girls stop at elementary school, they don’t get a higher education. It’s not like it’s forbidden, but it’s just how things are. So as you can imagine, it caused quite the scandal.”

Tommy grabbed a towel, drying the utensils that Nina washed as he listened.

“It caught Stefano’s attention. He studied at the liceo, which is after the ginnasio. He always came to talk to me, asked me questions. My brothers had already finished school at the time, so he was free to approach me without anyone saying anything.” She paused, taking her time to properly clean the whisk. “It didn’t bother me, at first,” she admitted, and Tommy caught a trace of shame in her tone. “He was good looking, a bit older, and he was fairly nice to me. Most girls in the village were in love with him and his brother. I had no idea about what they did.” She handed him a spoon, keeping her gaze on the sink. “Then one day I saw them beating a man half to death in his own shop cause he hadn’t paid for protection. I didn’t even know what protection was,” a laugh escaped her lips, but there was no humour in it. “I have my way of finding out stuff, and people talk, words spread. And once I learned who he was, I decided that I didn’t want anything to do with him. I thought I just had to be patient, cause he was on his last year of school. He asked me to be his girlfriend, on the last day before summer break, and I said no. I thought he’d leave me alone after that,” her voice lowered. “He didn’t. Even when he finished school, he’d always find the way to come to me, to talk to me. He became insistent, he thought I was being difficult, that I was saying no because I didn’t want to say yes right away.”

Fucking bastard, Tommy thought.

“The more time passed, the more I saw, and learned,” Nina continued, her eyes darkening at some distant memory. “And I found out Stefano and his brother had a habit of dragging girls into their car. I didn’t know what it was that they did to them, back then. But it was scary. I stole my brother’s pocket knife, just in case, and always took it with me.”

Tommy almost felt sick. It was even worse than he had imagined. It had been going on for years, ever since she was a little more than a child. Years, and she had never said anything. A question burned on the tip of his tongue, a question whose answer he feared, but that he needed to ask nonetheless. For the first time since she had started telling the whole story, he spoke. “Did you… did you ever need to use it?”

She fell silent, and for a moment he thought he had screwed up. But then she nodded. “Yes.”

His stomach dropped at her revelation, and he stopped what he was doing to take a look at her. He could read the effort she was making to talk about that on her face.

“I was buying groceries with Agnese, and she had stopped in a shop. He came to me while I was waiting for her, tried to convince me to go with him in his car. I pointed that knife at his throat the moment he tried to grab me.” Her voice had hardened, her eyes burning with the determination he had witnessed so many times. “That scar he has, it’s because of me.”

Tommy exhaled the breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding. Although enraged, he was relieved that Nina didn’t share the destiny of those girls before her, that she had been able to hold her own. Something really close to pride swelled in his chest.

“Unfortunately, it didn’t make him stop. If anything, it made him worse. The fact that our families do business together didn’t help. Soon he was everywhere. At church, outside my school, he even helped my mum with the groceries. I only had some rest when the war came. His father sent him and his brother to their relatives in New York, so that they wouldn’t fight. I hoped he’d stay there, but he came back. And he started again.”

Having finished to wash the utensils, Nina began to put them back in their place. “Recently, he went to speak with my father. He wants to marry me. That was why he was invited here for lunch.”

Tommy felt the blood freeze in his veins. He had imagined the nature of Stefano’s visits to the Ferrante house, but knowing it for sure was an entirely different thing. The thought of Nina being married to that fucker made him sick to his stomach. “What you just said to me,” he said, “tell your family. They’ll understand.”

Nina shook her head, the shadow of a sad smile growing on her face. “I tried.”

She kept herself busy with the last things that needed tidying up, the topic clearly being a raw nerve. “The first time Stefano followed me home from school I went to my father,” she elaborated, wiping the table. “He asked me if I had, perhaps, done something to… encourage that behaviour. To make him believe that I wanted that kind of attention.”

She finally put down the rag, then she went to wash her hands, dismissing the subject as if it was nothing. But that wasn’t nothing. That was a lot, and she didn’t deserve it. It was no wonder she always acted as if it was just her against the whole world. She had to protect herself for years.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said truthfully. It was the only sentence he could muster up. What could he possibly say, after what she had told him?

Yet, those words had an effect on Nina. All that time, she had felt like it was somehow her fault, or something she had to get over. But that short sentence, said with so much sincerity, carried a meaning of its own. I’m sorry that happened to you. It was the recognition that something had indeed happened, and that it wasn’t something she had done, but something had been done to her. Maybe she was overthinking that, maybe he had only said the first thing that came to his mind, but she needed to hear it.

After that, she let the conversation drop. She would’ve probably regretted sharing that much in the morning, but for the moment she felt lighter. The burden that had weighed down on her shoulders for so long wasn’t as heavy, now that she wasn’t carrying it alone. And even if it lasted just for one night, even if that weight came crashing down on her again the next day, it was enough.

Ten minutes later or so, she took the cake out of the oven, then covered it with a clean tea towel. It would’ve been fun to explain to her mother where it came from. “It’s late,” she murmured, glancing at Tommy. He was leaning against the table, an indecipherable look on his face. Her gaze was captured by the way the muscles of his shoulders showed through his undershirt, then lingered on his forearms, exposed by his rolled-up sleeves. A warm flush crept up her cheeks, and she found herself taken aback by her own thoughts. She really needed to sleep. And Tommy, who she had kept up with her. A sense of guilt pervaded her. Things weren’t easy for him either, and he needed to rest as well. She cleared her throat, hesitantly getting closer to him. “Thank you,” she whispered, resting her hand on his arm. “For staying.”

Tommy turned to look at her, his body stiffening. That contact was enough to send a chill down his spine. Only the thin material of his undershirt was separating his skin from her fingers, yet her touch burned, awakening all the sensations he had been trying to keep at bay. She was beautiful, and mere inches away from him, and her scent was making his head spin. His eyes drifted to her lips. He still remembered how they tasted, and that only added to his yearning. As though it didn’t belong to him anymore, his hand moved to delicately stroke her cheek, the roughness of his knuckles contrasting with the softness of her skin. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she almost involuntarily leaned closer. With a burning desire clouding his judgment, Tommy tentatively pressed his mouth on hers, testing the waters. When her lips started to move against his, his hand went to cup the back of her head, deepening the kiss. It was different than the first time, when his eagerness was so intense that he couldn’t bring himself to be gentle. He kissed her slowly, delicately, as if she might break in his hands.

Nina did feel like she could break at any moment. Vulnerable, exposed. And the craziest part was that she didn’t mind, not even a bit. Because she felt safe, in his arms. However, once again, reality set over her like a dark mist. She slightly moved away, shaking her head. “We can’t do this, Tommy,” she whispered.

He nodded, closing his eyes shut. They were still close enough for their noses to brush, and the tried to imprint that feeling in his mind, in his soul. “I know,” he rasped.

Neither of them moved for a while. Neither of them wanted to. They had been restraining themselves for so long. But it was too late. Inhaling sharply, Tommy took a step back, and a feeling of coldness engulfed both of them.

Nina paced back and forth in her room, fragments of what had happened less than ten minutes ago in the kitchen playing in her head again and again. It felt as if she had reached a point of no return. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore. She couldn’t go against herself anymore. She wanted him. It didn’t matter how much she tried to convince herself that she didn’t, that she should step aside before it became serious, that she’d forget about him anyway. None of it was true. She had tried so hard to put an end to that, to push him away, but she hadn’t been able to. She felt selfish, and cruel, and a traitor for that. And the worst thing was she didn’t care. In that moment, she didn’t care at all. She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to be cruel. She wanted to be a traitor. For once, she didn’t want to think about anyone but herself.

Fuck it, she thought. She walked out of her room, her pulse racing. It wasn’t fear, she wasn’t scared of being caught. With her parents’ chamber being in the other corridor and her brothers being away on business, no one would see her entering Tommy’s room. It was the anticipation for something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She stopped in front of the door, pondering whether to knock, just open it, or simply leave, feeling her courage already slip away from her. What if he didn’t want to see her? What if he was already asleep?

Determined not to let the whirlwind of thoughts and panic scare her out of it, she brought her fist to the wooden surface. The seconds stretched into an eternity as she waited, nervously fidgeting with her fingers, and when the sound of his footsteps came to her ears, she thought her heart could jump right out of her chest. Tommy opened the door, confusion painted across his features, but before he could say anything, Nina pulled him in and crashed her lips against his. It didn’t take much for him to recover from the surprise and wrap a strong arm around her waist, pulling her inside as he closed the door with his free hand. She found herself trapped against the hard surface, enveloped by the warmth radiating from him as their bodies pressed together. Her hands slid behind his neck, bringing him impossibly closer, eager to feel more. The feeling of his strong frame all over her made her knees buckle, and she was pretty sure she would’ve ended up on the floor hadn’t he been holding her. His smell, which had become now so familiar to her - a mixture of soap and cigarette smoke, with a hint of whiskey-, invaded her nostrils, making her head spin.

His hands roamed down her body, covered by the cotton nightgown. He gripped at the soft material, feeling the last shred of his self control drift away from him. It was too much. She was too much. God knew how much he wanted her, but he didn’t want her to do something she was going to regret. Once they had crossed that line, they couldn’t go back. “Nina,” he groaned, breaking away from her. “We have to stop now. I have to stop now.”

“Don’t.”

In the dim light of the room, Tommy examined her expression, only to see there was not a trace of doubt in her eyes. He gulped, gently stroking her cheek. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He leaned with his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb on the skin of her jaw. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he husked. “At any moment.”

She nodded, but when he leaned in to kiss her again, she put her hands on his chest. “Wait,” she blurted out, causing him to take a step back. “I’ve never…” Nina didn’t finish her sentence, but she didn’t need to.

Shit. Tommy had imagined it, of course, he was no fool, but having it confirmed… He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But there was a part of him that didn’t care at all. The bad he couldn’t help.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Nina pondered her answer, the reality of the situation washing over her. Theoretically, she knew what to expect. Practically, it was a whole different thing. And she knew that if she said yes, she’d be ruined. Still, she didn’t care. And she was hit by the overwhelming awareness that she’d let him do whatever he wanted to her. “No,” she breathed out.

She felt like she could melt right there when he raised her chin to capture her lips again. What started as a tender kiss became more heated, and soon he was basically devouring her, unable to restrain himself any longer.

Tommy had thought about that moment more than he’d ever admit, and now that she was actually there in his arms, it almost felt unreal. Yet she was there, and she was trusting him. And as he grabbed her waist to press her against him, he noticed his own hands were shaking.

Nina tilted her head as he started to leave a trail of kisses down her neck. A gasp escaped her lips when he reached a particularly sensitive spot, and an unfamiliar ache spread between her tighs, causing her to unconsciously rub them together. Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed, cause she felt his lips twisting in a grin against her skin. He moved down to her collarbones, then perilously close to her breasts. His fingers travelled up to the straps of her nightgown as he pulled back slightly, a silent question in his eyes. When she nodded, he slowly slid them down her shoulders, uncovering her inch after inch, until she was standing in front of him with nothing on but her knickers.

Her heart raced as she saw desire burning in Tommy’s eyes. Except it wasn’t just desire, or lust. There was something more, something she couldn’t read. No one had ever looked at her that way. With trembling hands, she shyly took ahold of the hem of his undershirt. Her fingers brushed against his skin as she raised it, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps and making his muscles twitch. Once the clothing was lying on the on the floor, she allowed herself to look at him, and explore him. She delicately traced the bullet scar on his shoulder, as if she might hurt him by pressing too hard, then the tattoo on his chest, then the lines of his abdomen, everything that told the story of his life. It was like watching a masterpiece. A torn, tainted masterpiece, but a masterpiece nonetheless.

Her hands reached his trousers, but she raised her gaze on him before unbuttoning them. A glimpse of something that looked a lot like surprise crossed his face, almost as though he wasn’t expecting her to ask. Then he gave her a single nod. After helping her remove them, he gently guided her towards the bed.

A mixture of edginess and anticipation took over Nina as Tommy positioned himself on top of her, one hand beside her head to support himself, the other ghosting over her breasts. She arched her back as he ran his thumb over one of her hardened nipples, the new, strange sensation becoming more and more pleasant as he fondled her flesh. He leaned down to pepper her chest with kisses, his lips warm and soft, then he trailed down to her stomach, her ribs, her belly. That new attention had her squirming under him, eliciting a deep chuckle from Tommy that caused her face to flush. His lips travelled up again to meet hers in a slow, sensual kiss that fogged her brain so much that she almost didn’t notice his hand making its way down to her most private parts. Breath hitched in her throat as he ran his fingers over her clothed sex.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her, his voice reverberating in her own chest. He raised his head to look at her, studying her expression.

Nina’s hand found its place on the back of his head, the short locks tickling her palm. She didn’t even need to think about her answer. One look at his face and she knew. She did trust him, with all her heart. She pulled him down to press a tender kiss on his mouth. “Yes,” she whispered.

Still close enough for their lips to brush, Tommy delicately rubbed his fingers over her heat, stimulating the area while allowing her to get used to the sensation of being touched. When his fingertip found her clit, she let out an involuntary gasp, her fingers tightening around the nape of his neck. He then pushed her knickers to the side, caressing the wet folds before stopping at her opening. Slowly, he inserted one of his digits, and she winced at the foreign, mildly uncomfortable feeling. Tommy stilled his movements, giving her the time to get adjusted.

“Is this alright?”

“Yes,” she breathed out.

He began to pump his finger in and out, careful not to go too deep just yet. Nina let out a ragged breath, pleasure building up inside her as she gradually got used to the feeling. His thumb rolled over her clit, the unexpected move eliciting a whimper out of her. Her breathing became more laboured as he added another finger, stretching her further.

Tommy took in the sight of her under him, eyes closed, swollen lips parted, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in a frown. God, she was beautiful. And she was his, even if just for one night. He moved faster and deeper, working her open until he felt it was enough. A whine of protest left her lips when he removed his fingers, and he smirked at the reaction. “Be patient,” he playfully scolded her, earning himself a glare.

He got rid her now inconvenient last piece of clothing, then took off his briefs. Nina couldn’t help but let her gaze wander to the newly exposed part, and a wave of concern overcame her. It couldn’t possibly fit.

Tommy gently parted her legs more to settle between them and hovered above her again, but he must’ve read the apprehension on her face. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, running his knuckles over her cheek.

His attentiveness warmed Nina’s heart, dissolving any fear she had. She was safe with him. He wouldn’t hurt her. “No,” she shook her head.

He cradled her head in one of his hands and leaned in to place a sweet kiss on her forehead, then lined himself up with her entrance. Nina braced herself for what was to come, her fingers ghosting over his shoulders in a soothing motion. Tommy inserted his tip, and she couldn’t hold back a stifled gasp at the intrusion. He stood still for a moment, reassuringly rubbing her waist with a hand, then pushed a bit further inside her tight slit. Nina squeezed her eyes shut, the burning sensation almost unbearable.

“You alright?” he asked, the effort he was making to restrain himself showing through the rasp of his voice. Her velvety walls were squeezing him in the most delightful way, and it took all his self-control to stop there.

She nodded, silently giving him the permission to go on. Pain and pleasure mixed as he carefully worked his way past her resistance, until he was buried deep inside of her. He stilled again, giving her the time to adjust to his size. That feeling of fullness took her breath away, it was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. She pulled him impossibly close, eager to feel every inch of his skin on her skin, to melt into him until she could no longer tell where she started and he ended. A low groan reverberated into her ear as she pushed her hips up against his, encouraging him to move. Tommy started rolling his hips, setting a slow, sensual pace that allowed both of them to feel everything with the outmost depth. His lips claimed hers in a searing kiss, stifling the moans that threatened to escape them. Nina’s hands went to cup his face, the softness of his lips enough to distract her from the last shreds of pain and help her relax, thus allowing him to go even deeper. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, further igniting the fire inside of her.

So that was what Nina had been warned about all her life. That was the sin she had been taught she should avoid at all costs, the sin that would bring shame and ignominy upon her and all her family. And she was surprised to find out that it didn’t feel like a sin. It didn’t feel wrong. How could there be shame in that, when it felt so right? How could there be shame in being in the arms of someone she cared so deeply about, who made her feel so safe? Where was the shame?

Tommy’s hands rested on the back her thighs, fingers squeezing the flesh as he felt her tightening around him. He wanted to take it slow, to savour that moment, but it was getting harder and harder as her warmth, her scent, her shaky breaths clouded his senses. It felt like being in a bubble. Nothing else mattered, nothing else was real. Time had stopped for them to exist in that moment.

Nina hid her face in the crook of his neck as he quickened his pace, feeling her muscles tightening in her lower stomach. Tommy guided her to wrap her legs around him, the new angle making her see stars. His thrusts became more erratic, more frantic, causing that strange feeling in her abdomen to become even stronger. “Tommy,” she whimpered, overwhelmed by that vortex of sensations.

“Let it happen, love,” he whispered in her ear, his length twitching at the way his name sounded on her lips.

With a few more thrusts, he pushed her over the edge, and she had to press her mouth over his shoulder to silence the sounds she couldn’t hold back anymore. It didn’t take long for Tommy to follow her, his hips jerking as he spilled himself inside of her.

The world stood still as they stayed in each other’s embrace, Tommy’s cheek brushing against hers. He buried his nose in her dark hair, inhaling her lavender scent. For once, his head was silent. No nagging thoughts, no shovels against the wall. Just peace.

Nina gently stroked the back of his head, breathing deeply as her heart slowed down to a normal rate. Fuck, she had never felt anything like that. It had been… intense. And it had tied her to him more than she could’ve ever imagined. It was scary, to be so connected to someone. To feel someone that much. That was the right expression. She felt him. As if he were part of herself. As if there had been an empty spot inside her soul, and she had lived with it all her life, only to find that it was him the missing piece.

A sudden blast of cold hit her when Tommy got up, depriving her of his warmth and weight. She watched in confusion as he disappeared in his private bathroom, wondering whether something had happened. She sat up on the bed, bringing her knees to her chest. Had she done something wrong?

However, she didn’t need to worry for long, cause soon Tommy walked back into the room, with his private parts now covered by a pair of briefs and a fresh towel in his hand. Without saying a word, he climbed back on the bed, smiling softly at the puzzled look on her face. Slightly embarrassed now that the disinhibition brought by the feverish state they had previously been in had faded, she felt her cheeks grow hot when he gently spread her legs apart. He delicately ran the towel over her sensitive skin, cleaning her up from the sticky mess between her legs, his eyebrows knitted in a concentrated frown. Once again, his attentiveness made her heart skip a bit, and she was amazed by how easy it was to let him take care of her. She never let anybody take care of her.

As Tommy discarded the towel somewhere on the floor, Nina’s attention was caught by the blood stain on the white top sheet. Shit. She got up to remove it from the bed, doing her best to ignore what she’d prefer would stay tomorrow’s problem. “I’ll have to take care of it in the morning,” she murmured.

Tommy laid on the bed again, then reached for the cigarettes on his nightstand to light one. He watched her as she looked for her nightgown among the mess of clothes on the floor, naked, with only her long, ruffled hair to cover her a little. She was quite the sight.

Much to his dismay, she soon found what she was looking for, and covered herself. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, motioning for her to get back in bed, having had enough of having her away from him. “C’mere.”

Nina gladly took her place back next to him, resting with her head on his chest as he draped an arm over her shoulders. She could’ve stayed there forever. But she knew that it wouldn’t be long before the sun made its appearance on the horizon.

They stayed in silence as Tommy smoked his cigarette, his fingertips mindlessly grazing her arm. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or about what would happen next. He wanted to stay in that moment while he still could, because he knew he wouldn’t get it back. That thought stung. But he was aware they needed to have that conversation. This time they couldn’t just pretend nothing had happened, and the sooner they talked, the sooner they would clear things out.

“Nina,” he whispered, but no reaction came from her. She had fallen asleep.

Tommy stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray, then turned the small lamp off. He didn’t have the heart to wake her up.

They would think about it tomorrow.

NEXT CHAPTER

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[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: The aftermath.

Word Count: 5,342

Warnings: Angst, past suicide attempt, and sexual content.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 17: Hold Me 'Til it Stops Hurting

“Is she alive?”

Lizzie waited with baited breath for Charlie’s reply from the other end of the phone line. The receiver felt slippery in her hand from sweat. She could hear blood rushing in her ears. A chill had settled in her bones. It wouldn’t leave. 

“I don’t know,” Charlie said, and she raised a hand to her mouth. Tears welled of their own accord at the corners of her eyes. “She was when they took her in the ambulance, I think.”

“Tommy went with her?”

“Yeah. No way they were separating them. He nearly ripped off the arm of the first paramedic that tried to touch her.”

Yes, that sounded like something Tommy would do. He had probably panicked when they tried to take her away from him. 

“I’ll never get the way that he screamed when he found her out of my head, Lizzie.” Charlie’s voice was grave, lowered an octave with worry and sorrow. Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut against the vivid imagining her brain immediately conjured up. An anguished howl, reverberating in her skull, that seemed to go on and on forever. Like someone had reached right into Tommy’s chest and ripped out his heart. 

Like the world was ending. 

She had been worried since seeing Lucy at the ballet. How dead her eyes had become. She had seemed smaller, somehow. And all that bright warmth that she had so often exuded was entirely absent. Not to mention the way that she’d walked right on passed them when Tommy had saved a seat for her next to them. That had shocked Lizzie to her core. No matter how mad Lucy would sometimes get at either of them in the past, she’d never done something like that before. 

She understood that Lucy was probably depressed over the whole thing. But, Christ, she never would have thought that she would try to…

She jammed her eyes shut. 

“Do you know which hospital they took her to?”

Charlie gave her the address.

“Right.”

“You’re thinking of heading over there?”

“I need to know if she’s alright.”

“Right, just be careful. He might be…”

Out of his mind with grief.

“I know. I will.” 

She heard a sharp, high whining sound from Charlie’s end of the phone and frowned. “What was that?”

Charlie sighed, and she could hear the crinkle of the phone shifting when he adjusted it against his ear. “That was the dog. Poor boy keeps crying.”

“When I’m at the hospital, I’ll talk to Tommy about maybe bringing him home. So he’s at least with the other animals. We all miss him here.”

“Probably would be a good idea.”

“And I’ll pick up Lucy’s things from the yard to take back to Arrow House.” Enough of this ridiculousness, she decided. Lucy needed to be home. Where they could all watch over her and take care of her. Not that she didn’t think Charlie and Curly would do their best, but they already had Barney to worry about, not to mention all their other duties at the yard.

Besides, there was no way in hell Tommy would be letting Lucy out of his sight. 

Assuming she’s still alive, of course. She shuddered, pushing that thought to the back of her mind. If Lucy were dead, she didn’t know what she was going to do. 

“Yes, I think that would be what’s best.”

“Right. Call me if you get any more news, please?” 

“I will.”

“Goodbye, Charlie.”

“Take care, Lizzie.”

She set the phone back into its cradle, hands raising to her face. Her fingers swiped at under her eyes, smearing her makeup and rubbing salty tears across her skin. 

A rising feeling of horror towards herself was building in the back of her throat. 

My fault. It’s all my fault. 

Was this the type of person that she’d allowed herself to become? So jealous and bitter that she’d ripped apart two people she claimed to care about. Had she really so lost control of her resentment over the situation that she’d bullied Lucy into…into this?

Even if Lucy lived, Tommy would never forgive her. Hell, she didn’t think that she would ever be able to forgive herself. 

It hadn’t been worth it. Not in the end. That was why she’d bent on the rules regarding Lucy. There was a time when she’d been content to blame all her unhappiness on Lucy. To think that if she just wasn’t here…

It had been the easier thing to do, to blame her. Because then she didn’t have to stare the far more painful reality in the face: Tommy wasn’t in love with her. And he never would be. 

But even then, she had probably known deep down that it was all a lie. Lucy or no Lucy, Tommy didn’t love her. The redhead’s presence in their lives wasn’t the problem. It never had been.

And yet, she’d gone and kicked out someone who could have potentially been her greatest ally in dealing with Tommy. The second mother to her children. A woman who had just wanted to be her friend. 

God, she could not even imagine the amount of pain that Tommy was in right now…

“Mum?”

She stared at the sound of Charlie’s voice from the end of the hall, quickly angling her back towards him and wiping at her eyes. Trying to hide the evidence of her tears. “Charlie, hey.” Oh, God. How much did he hear?

“Who was on the other line?”

“Just your Uncle Charlie, sweetheart.” She moved to usher him back towards the bedrooms. “C’mon, back to bed.”

But he looked up at her knowingly. “You’re crying. Has something happened?”

Lizzie hesitated. She couldn’t lie to him. But she also could not quite bring herself to tell him the truth yet. “Nothing that you need to worry yourself about right now, honey. C’mon.”

He didn’t look wholly convinced, but he let her shepherd him back into bed and tuck him in. 

“Mrs. Shelby?” Frances was waiting out in the hall when she came out of Charlie’s room. 

“Frances, will you come with me for a moment?”

The housekeeper looked puzzled, but nodded. Lizzie led the way down the hall, her eyes taking stock of the various doors that they passed. When they came to one near the end of the hall, she stopped, glancing back to her and the children's rooms. Yes. This would do. It was close enough, but there was still ample space between them that they’d have their privacy. 

And she and the kids wouldn’t be at risk of hearing them in the middle of the night if they got a little loud. 

She was trying to be better, but she wasn’t going to push her jealousy if she could help it. 

Opening the door, she indicated for Frances to follow her inside. The bedroom was fully furnished, like all rooms in the house. Spacious. It wouldn’t be nearly as cramped. She went to the windows, checking for any drafts. There should be plenty of sunlight during the day.

When she poked her head into the ensuite bathroom, her eyes landed on the bathtub in the middle of the room, a shiver going down her spine at the memory of Charlie’s description of how Tommy had found Lucy. 

But this bathroom was big. And it had a shower. In case they decided to get rid of the tub altogether. 

“Mrs. Shelby, may I ask what we are doing?” Frances was standing in the middle of the room, puzzled. 

“In the morning, I want you to have some of the staff move Lucy’s things from her room into here.”

Frances’s eyes went wide, and she could see an ember of hope starting to burn in her face. “Are you sure, ma’am?”

Lizzie looked around the room. “Yes. She should be closer to her family.”

Frances nodded. “Does this mean that Miss. Winters will be coming home?”

“I hope so.” Turning, she went to face the window again. It was still dark outside. But dawn would soon be upon them. Behind her, she heard Frances shuffle towards the door, then pause.

“I just want to say, this is a very kind thing you’re doing, Mrs. Shelby. For both of them.”

Lizzie looked over shoulder at her. “I should have done it a long time ago.”

“Well. Better late than never.”

Lizzie gave her a sad smile, nodding that she could be dismissed before returning her gaze to the outside, hoping that Frances was right. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie took a deep breath, hand hovering at the door leading into the hospital room. She had a bag clutched in one hand, filled with clean clothes, toothbrushes, and an extra pack of cigarettes. She had no idea what she was about to walk into. She expected Tommy to be an absolute mess, but what type of mess he would be, she was entirely unsure. 

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was brightly lit, the curtains open and allowing sunlight to stream in. The layout of it reminded her of the hospital room Michael had stayed in after he was shot by the Changrettas. With a bed in the corner, table in the middle, and a private washroom. 

Tommy was seated in a chair by the bed, hunched over in a way that was guaranteed to make his back ache by mid-afternoon if he wasn’t careful. His coat and suit jacket were off, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands clasped firmly with one of Lucy’s on the bed, forehead bowed to touch against their interlaced hands. 

Lizzie eyed the bandage wrapped around his left arm. From where they’d taken his blood, the nurses had told her. Because Lucy had lost so much that they had to give her a blood transfusion, but apparently whoever was supposed to restock the ambulance that came to get her had fucked up, and there were no blood bags on board. Tommy and Lucy’s blood types matched–how they knew that, she had no idea–and so he’d volunteered himself.

It was probably the only reason she was still alive. If they hadn’t done the transfusion enroute, she likely would have died from blood loss on the way to the hospital. 

Taking a cautious step forward, Lizzie’s eyes fixed on Lucy where she was laid out on her back on the bed. Her red hair was fanned out across the white pillow, her skin a frightening paper-white, the dense freckles on her face standing out even more distinctly than usual. Her normally bright red lips were pale pink, and dark, sunken-in circles surrounded her eyes. There were several tubes connected to her arms, and thick white bandages were wrapped tight around each wrist.

If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest, Lizzie would have worried that she was dead. 

Another bout of guilt washed over her at the sight, almost choking with it. 

Worrying at her lower lip, she eyed Tommy warily. He’d made no indication of hearing her come in, despite her heels clicking against the floor. 

She approached them cautiously, keeping an eye on Tommy the entire time until she was at the foot of the bed. 

Oh, dear one…she reached out to touch Lucy’s ankle delicately over the blankets pulled halfway up her chest, and Tommy suddenly sprang into movement. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” he snarled, shoving her hand away, half curling over Lucy’s body protectively. 

Lizzie stared at him in shock. He looked half feral, lips pulled back from his teeth and expression contorted with a growl. But what struck her the most was the complete and total devastation emblazoned across his face.

His eyes were red, swollen and puffy. Cheeks tear-stained. He’d been crying. Hard, from the looks of it. But the worst was the look in his eyes. She’d seen Tommy sad before, but the heartbreak in those two blue orbs was unlike anything she had ever seen. He looked completely and utterly distraught, broken beyond repair. 

When he caught her staring at him, he quickly looked away, wiping at his face with his shirt sleeve and returning his full attention back to Lucy. Lizzie shifted awkwardly, wanting to reach out to him. To both of them. But if she did that, she would probably risk getting her hand torn off. 

She couldn’t even really blame him. Not with the way she’d been behaving for the past few years. 

“I brought you both some clean clothes,” she said finally softly, setting the bag down onto the floor by the foot of the bed. “Do you know when she’ll be released?”

No response. His eyes were open, but they were fixed intently upon Lucy, as if he were afraid if he looked away from her for one second, she’d disappear. Lizzie was not surprised at the silence. 

“When she is, bring her home, Tommy. To Arrow House. She should be home. With her family. And maybe…” she hesitated, knowing that once she opened this particular door, there may be no closing it. But one look back at Lucy, and her resolve strengthened. 

I’m tired of being the jealous, bitter wife.

She could be the bigger person. Like Lucy had tried to be all this time. Let go of the resentment and envy. Who knows? She might finally gain the friend and ally Lucy had always wanted to be towards her. Assuming of course that the other woman still had any interest in associating with her at all. 

“Once you both get back and things have settled, we could discuss restructuring our arrangement. So she’s more included with us and the kids.” She took a step forward. “I told Frances to have her things moved to a room closer to mine and the children’s. And if you think it would be okay I can bring Charlie and Ruby to come visit once she’s awake. I’ll pick up Asher from Charlie’s yard and bring him home. So he’ll be there when you and her get back.” Her gaze moved rapidly between him and Lucy. “This will never happen again, I promise. I’ll keep a hold of myself from now on. I’ll never say a cruel thing to her again. You do whatever you have to do from now on to make sure she’s okay. Just…bring her home.” She drew in a gasping, shaky breath, realizing that she’d been rambling and stopping herself before she said anymore. The rest could be ironed out later. When he was more lucid and Lucy was actually awake. “I’ll leave you alone, now. Just call me later, if you can.” 

He still made no indication of even hearing her. But he made no move to stop her this time when she stepped around him and bent to press a light kiss to Lucy’s brow. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and started to head for the door. 

“Lizzie.”

She froze that the hoarse rasp of Tommy’s voice, head turning to look back at him. His gaze was still fixed on Lucy, even as he spoke to her. 

“Thank you.”     

She nodded, and departed from the room. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

A body cannot live without its heart. 

It was a simple rule of biology. A fact of the universe. Indisputable. Certain. Unchallengeable. 

Tommy closed his eyes, forehead resting a little heavier against his and Lucy’s joined hands. Her grip was nonexistent and limp in her unconscious state, but that was alright. His grasp on her was tight enough to make up for it. 

His heart did not reside inside his chest. No; it was with her. Always.

What other explanation was there, for his inability to live without her? 

There had been a moment, in the ambulance right before he offered up his arm for them to draw blood to keep her alive, when he thought that she was gone. It had been the worst moment of his entire fucking life. 

Take all of it, if you have to, he had thought as they punctured the skin of his inner arm, blood beginning to draw out into the tube to be transferred to Lucy. I don’t care. So long as it keeps her breathing. I’ll gladly open an entire vein and pour all my life into her if I have to.   

He closed his eyes. She had almost died. Been right on the precipice of it. He had felt it. 

And she had intended to go willingly. 

His fault. All his fault. He’d made her so unhappy that she’d gone and done this to herself. When she left, he hadn’t fought hard enough to keep her by his side. To show her that she was wanted. That he still loved her so much that he would do anything for her. Instead he sat around and did nothing, letting his wife and his family tear and claw and break away little pieces of her, bit by bit, until she didn’t even want to live anymore. 

It was no wonder that she thought he didn’t love her. 

And now all he could do was sit uselessly at her bedside, holding her hand and swallowing down tears.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing her hand, silently begging her to wake up. To blink those big eyes at him and touch his face, so he could hold her and kiss her and surround her in his comfort and love until she never doubted him again. 

How much better she would have been off without him. All he’d even done was weigh her down. She deserved a thousand times better than him. Always had.  

“Mr. Shelby?”

He looked up at the sound of one of the nurse’s voices. She was hovering next to him, expression nervous, something clutched in her hands.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but, in light of Miss. Winters’s injuries being…self inflicted, the doctor wanted me to go over options for her future placement with you.”

“Future…placement?” he straightened, trying to hide the way that he cringed at his back popping in several places. He did not let go of Lucy’s hand. 

“There are several psychiatric facilities that we recommend. I’ve brought some pamphlets…” She held them out to him. Tommy stared down at them uncomprehendingly. 

Away. They wanted him to send his Lucy away. When their separation was what had caused this whole bloody thing in the first place.

“That won’t be necessary.” He turned back to Lucy. 

“Mr. Shelby, in cases like these, it really often is best for everyone if the patient is–”

“I am not sending her away to a nuthouse, to be drugged and poked and prodded and treated like a fucking animal!” he shouted, temper snapping, memories of the asylum where they’d visited Barney whirling behind his eyes. He thought of Lucy, locked behind bars and strapped into a white straightjacket, forced to sit alone in the cold and dark, injected with all manner of drugs and other substances to keep her docile, and felt ill. 

The nurse opened her mouth to respond at the same moment that the door opened and Ada walked in. Her brows were raised. Probably she’d heard him yelling out in the hall. The nurse looked between them, then leaned over to set the pamphlets down on the bedside table, next to the vase filled with a bouquet of red roses Tommy had bought from the hospital’s gift shop.

“Please just consider the options, Mr. Shelby,” she said softly, before departing. 

“What the hell was that about?” Ada asked as soon as the nurse was gone, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the back of the chair she pulled up to sit down beside him. Tommy rubbed at his eyes, suddenly deeply exhausted. 

“They’re suggesting I have her locked away in a madhouse,” he growled irritably.

“Hm.” Ada leaned over to pick up the pamphlets that the nurse had left, thumbing through them. “How is she?”

“She lost a lot of blood.” He swallowed painfully, thumb stroking along her knuckles. “But she’s stable and they expect she’ll be awake by the end of the day.”

Ada nodded, dropping the pamphlets back onto the table, chewing on her bottom lip. “You know, a lot of these places aren’t as bad as they once were. Some are like…like community homes now. They do activities. Let the inmates walk around outside. You can visit whenever you like.”

He stared at her incredulously. “Are you serious?”

Ada squirmed in her seat. “I’m just saying…what if she needs more looking after than you can provide for her? Clearly things are much worse than we thought for her to go and…” she trailed off, gesturing to Lucy’s bandaged wrists. “If she’s too unwell to take care of herself…” 

“Then I’ll take care of her.”

“Tommy, sweetheart, you might not have the time.”

“I will take care of her, Ada,” he repeated, putting strong emphasis on each word, meeting her eyes sternly. She searched his gaze, and he saw understanding enter her face. She nodded. 

“Okay.”

Returning his attention back to Lucy, he stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. Her fingers still felt very cold in his. Reaching out, he pulled the blanket a little further up her chest, frowning. He didn’t want her to get chilled. 

The hue of her skin was still frighteningly pale, her lips pulled into a downward frown in her sleep. Tommy ached to see her smile again; to observe the way that it bloomed across and transformed her entire face, creating laugh lines around her eyes, stretching her lips, and brightening her features. It used to be so easy for him to make her laugh. She always giggled at even the most terrible of his jokes, eyes sparkling when she looked across the table or room at him mischievously in reaction to whatever cheeky thing just passed his lips. 

“It’s my fault, Ada,” he whispered. 

“No, Tommy, don’t do that to yourself. Lucy wouldn’t want–”

“I wasn’t there, Ada. She needed me, and I wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been so focused on all this business with Mosley and Michael…I let what was happening between us get pushed aside. I didn’t address it like I should have. I just left her alone.” Yes, part of that had been in reaction to him thinking that was what Lucy wanted him to do, but truth be told, part of why he hadn’t fought her harder on it was because it had been convenient for him to just let things lie. So he could keep his attention on plotting Mosley’s demise and trying to figure out Michael’s plans. “I broke her, Ada.”  

“Oh, Tommy…no. No, I don’t think that’s true. I mean, you and her’s recent problems certainly didn’t help things, but Lucy’s never really recovered from what Luca did to her. Maybe this was just a…a delayed reaction to all of that.”

Tommy shook his head furiously. “I didn’t do enough for her. I made her think I didn’t love her anymore. That’s why she–” he couldn’t say the words, throat closing in tight around them. Passing a hand across his eyes, he sucked in desperate breaths, trying to stuff down sobs. “I should have never married Lizzie. Or I should have gotten divorced as soon as it became clear she was never going to fully accept my relationship with Lucy.”

“Are you? Going to divorce her, I mean?”

“I don’t know. Lizzie says that she’ll be on her best behavior from now on. I think she might even mean it, this time. But…” he trailed off, staring into space, suddenly aching for a cigarette. 

“...But?” Ada prompted. Tommy roused and shook his head. 

“It’s up to Lucy.” Whatever Lucy wanted him to do, he’d do it. 

“What if she asks you to leave your wife and marry her instead?”

“Then I’ll get divorce papers drawn up and dig out the ring I’ve got hidden in my sock drawer.”

Ada’s head snapped around to him. “What ring?”

He shifted. Shit. Probably shouldn’t have brought that up. 

“Tommy…” Ada said very quietly. He squeezed his eyes shut, dreading the question he already knew was coming. “Why do you have an engagement ring hidden with your socks?”

He sighed, swallowing hard, pulling a cigarette from his case in his pocket and fumbling with it in an attempt to put off answering her. Ada was still staring at him expectantly. He scratched at one eyebrow with the thumb of the hand holding his cigarette, trying not to meet her gaze so she wouldn’t see the ache currently blooming in his chest reflected in his eyes. 

She shifted a little closer to him, leaning forward.

“Tommy…how long have you had that ring for?”

He coughed. “Since 1918.”

“1918!?”

He shrugged. Ada softened.

“I thought she said no.”

“She did. Technically. But I promised her that the offer would always be there, if she wanted it.” He looked down, swallowing painfully, refusing to let himself cry. “Yet another fucking promise I made to her that I broke.”

“Tommy, we both know that if she told you she wanted you to marry her, you would divorce Lizzie in a heartbeat and marry her as fast as you could.”

Ada was right, of course. The door was very much open. Through two marriages to two other women and two children, it still always was. So the ring stayed put. For whenever she decided she wanted it. 

He could feel Ada staring at him, analyzing his response carefully. He was pretty sure, if he looked over to meet her gaze, he would have seen approval and maybe even a touch of pride in her eyes. Of all his direct family, Ada was perhaps the one who most understood the importance of Lucy to him. 

He thought of Lucy’s big, broken, tear filled eyes, staring at him with blatant misery shining in them.

I don’t believe you.

How could he have let that happen? How could he have so spectacularly failed her that she no longer believed that he loved her? What the hell was wrong with him?   

Sighing, he wiped at his eyes, cringing a little when they came away damp. He felt so tired. And lost. Completely and utterly helpless.  

“What do I do, Ada?” He hated how childlike his voice sounded, unable to meet his sister’s eyes. 

“I don’t know, Tom. Stay with her. Make sure that she feels loved. That’s the best advice I can give.” Her eyes went to the bouquet of flowers in the vase on the nightstand. “The flowers are a good start.”

He followed her gaze to them. “It doesn’t feel like nearly enough.” He wasn’t sure if he meant the flowers, or all of it. He would never be good enough for Lucy. Not in a million years.  

“Stay here with her. Look after her. She’ll need you once she wakes up. I already called the House of Commons and put you down for a brief leave of absence. And the boys and I will take care of everything regarding the…other things. Don’t worry.”

He nodded. Most things for the assassination had already been arranged anyway. All there was left to do was wait for the day of the rally. 

“How are they fairing with Barney at the yard?”

“Fine enough. He had an attack this morning, but Jeremiah and Arthur were there to calm him down. They’ve got him doing target practice.”

“Good.” He dreaded asking the next bit, but was unable to stop himself. “What about Michael and Polly?”

Ada hesitated. “No one’s seen or heard anything from Michael or Gina since the family meeting. Polly’s been at home, from what I’ve heard. I haven’t seen her, but I guess Aberama has been over there a lot.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat roughly. “Let me know if any of that changes.” 

“I better be getting back. Call me if there’s anything more you need, alright?”

“Mhm.”

She stood and gave him a firm hug. “It’ll be okay.” Her hand rubbed his back warmly before letting him go so she could head to the door.

“Thanks for coming.”

She flashed him a sad smile, slipping out the door, and leaving him alone with Lucy and his tortuous thoughts. 

He sat there for he didn’t even know how long, still holding Lucy’s hand, every once in a while pressing light kisses along her knuckles and the bandage covering her wrist, murmuring softly to her. 

When her fingers twitched against his, he froze, gaze shooting intently to her face, watching with bated breath while her features pinched. He immediately worried that she might be in pain. The cuts on her wrists had gone deep, and the doctors had to do extensive stitches in order to close them. 

“Lucy?” he asked, leaning closer. 

She stirred again, head shifting against the pillow, brows twitching in a way that he recognized as her trying to fight back wakefulness in order to gain a few more minutes of sleep. He had seen that expression often enough when he had to rouse her in the morning.

Her eyelids peeled open slowly, squinting against the bright sunlight shining through the windows. He’d paid extra for a room with ample light, and yanked the curtains as wide open as he could get them. Hoping that the sunshine would maybe help raise her spirits. Even if only a little. 

Her dark brown irises were glazed over with confusion, processing slowly where she was. He saw things start to fall into place as she took in him seated beside her, the hospital bed she was laying in, and the bandages around her wrists.

Her eyes locked in on his hand still holding hers. Tommy could see it when it all fully clicked into place for her what must have happened after she sliced herself open and lost consciousness in the bathtub.

“Lucy,” he sobbed out, hand moving to cup her cheek to make sure she was real. That she actually was truly back with him. 

When she looked at him–really looked into his face, for the first time perhaps since she’d left Arrow House–horror, mortification, and regret passed across her features. Her lips trembled, eyes filling with tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she started to cry in a fragile, broken voice, the sound of it nearly rendering him split in two. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry–” she didn’t seem able to say anything else, crying harder with each repetition of the phrase, chest heaving so violently he was afraid that she might hurt herself.

Scrambling, suddenly completely overtaken by the need to comfort her and be as close as he could physically get to her, he pulled himself up, wrapping his arms around her, in one quick movement sliding into the bed beside her and crushing her to his chest. She latched onto his wrinkled shirt desperately, apologies giving way to nothing but ragged sobs that seemed close to shattering her. Tommy held her tighter, burying his face in her hair, pressing his lips to wherever he could reach on her head, chest shuddering with his breaths. Tears streamed silently down his own cheeks. He was deeply aware that his arms around her may very well be the only things holding her together. 

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. I’ve got you. Shh…” he murmured into her ear, rocking her slightly in his arms to try to soothe her. She burrowed into him, still crying even as he rubbed her back. “I’ve got you,” he repeated. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Tightening his arms around her, he held her firmly against him, until her sobs finally ceased and she laid quiet and still against him. He petted her hair gently, neither of them saying a word. They did not really need to. Instead he just held her, for hours and hours, in the silence of the hospital room.

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[stevie-petey]

Hi! Whenever you have time do you think you could write a fic about bug and Steve having dinner with his parents? Remember how on Steve’s birthday his parents came back and it was awkward and filled with tension and a promise to have dinner together sometime? :))

YESSSS !!! was hoping id be asked to write this since i intentionally added it into chapter 9 like hehehe theyll wanna read this blurb when it comes <33

enjoy !

"everything will be fine, honey." your fingers trace over the lines of steves tie, tying and retying it a million times to ease your own anxious mind.

"i feel like i should be the one reassuring you," he mumbles bitterly, once again undoing the tie so that he can try himself.

you watch him with slight amusement, though mostly concern. his hair is a mess and hes wearing a tie to a family dinner in a house hes live in his entire life. yet steves home isnt really a home and the tie is a vain attempt to mask the disappointment of it.

steves back is turned to you as he frowns in the mirror. the crease in his delicate features upsets you to see. wrapping your arms from behind him, your head pokes from over his shoulders, standing on the very tips of your toes, and you make a silly face at him in the mirror.

a gruff laugh reverberates through steves spine and you hold him close, resting your head where it fits just between his shoulder and neck, smiling into his skin. steve finds the hands that are clasped against his chest, and he encases them with his.

"i love you," he says, soft. the tie around his neck hands, forgotten, and he simply allows you to hold him.

"i love you, too."

steve tries to commit to memory the sight before him. the image of the two of you standing in the mirror together, how you just barely manage to be seen. your arms around his waist, his hands around your arms.

"my angel," he pinches your nose, and when you squeak in protest he quickly spins around and cradles your head, kissing the tip of your nose over and over again.

you erupt into laughter and steve sways your bodies together, messily dancing in your room, the imminent night no longer darkening the corners of it.

the table is set in the harrington house when you arrive. in your two years of knowing steve, youve never seen the dining table used for anything other than robotic sets and the occasional puzzle.

may harrington is in the kitchen, dressed in a gorgeous velvet gown that drapes over her frame elegantly. the smell of roast chicken wafts throughout the home and shes just finished cutting up the vegetables when you arrive.

"hello, darlings. dinner will be done shortly." she greets you and steve warmly, sweeping you into her arms the moment youre close enough.

the hug surprises you and it takes you a moment to reciprocate, but when you finally do, may sighs into your embrace.

"thank you for coming," she says, the sincerity in her voice longing and dim.

"of course," you squeeze her hands, smiling as kindly as you can. you admire the woman, you know shes done the best she can with raising steve with a husband who never wanted to be a father, but youll never forget the way steve clings so desperately onto the people in his life, the ever present fear of one day losing everyone hes ever loved.

"wheres dad?" steve looks around in the otherwise empty kitchen. may avoids his gaze. he sets his hand on the counter. he swallows, breathes out heavily. his movements are defeated, expected. "he isnt coming, is he?"

may brings her fingers to her lips. she doesnt say anything, and your fingers itch to brush against steves.

"if you have the ingredients, mrs. harrington, id be happy to put together a salad while you finish up with dinner." your only way of offering mercy to both parties. saving may from having to disappoint her son once again, and saving her son from having to linger in the feeling of familiar abandonment.

"if you wouldnt mind, that would be lovely, y/n." mays eyes are tired when you look back at her. suddenly the elegant drape of her dress seems to almost drown her. shes a shell of a once grand woman, and all you feel for her is pity.

you nod meekly at her, helping yourself to the fridge as youve done time and time again when she isnt home. theres some carrots, celery and cucumbers, and you place them onto the counter.

"steve," you softly call to him. hes still standing at the counter, eyes tracing over the line of the marble. his disappointment once used to be outrage, loud protests and direct retribution, but now, under the kitchen lighting in his childhood home, his disappointment is only adorned with resolved silence.

"honey," voice lowered so only he hears, your hand finds his arm. you try to bring warmth back to his body, try to lull him with any affection you can. "why dont you help me cut up the vegetables?"

phrased as a question, though you both know that it isnt. steve finally releases the last of the anger in his shoulders. he nods, wordless and bitter, and allows you to guide him towards the cutting board.

you stand shoulder to shoulder. his fingers skim yours every time he hands you a vegetable, and your hair brushes against his cheek. the motions are slow, eased, and slowly he comes back to you in the space only the two of you inhabit.

dinner gets served and may tries to salvage the remains of her relationship with you and her son. she makes polite conversation, and you respond with grace, though she knows that her sons disappointment accompanies yours.

the dinner lasts no longer than an hour. steve doesnt touch his food. he doesnt talk. you help may clean the dishes and as your hands soak the plates, the woman murmurs to you, "i tried, you know."

"i know," you tell her, but for what? what has may harrington tried for except the absence of a father? the conversation that failed to amend years of loneliness?

but the shadow in her eyes and the shake of her fingers smooths the anger you feel towards her. shes lovely when she is able to be. shes kind and makes her son banana bread every year it snows. she comforted steve when he had nightmares, she calls him her beautiful boy, and you know, effortlessly and easily, that she loves her son.

"i used to call my husband honey," may wipes her eye, doesnt try to hide this action from you. she shakes her head. you can see the weight of what once was etched into her beautiful eyes.

may sighs, drops her hand and looks up at you one last time. "take care of him, please."

"always," you promise her.

in the dim light of an empty and cold kitchen, two women interlace their fingers together, though they dont look at the other, and the touch says everything that they are uable to.

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

what do you think about using people’s preferred pronouns?

Here's what Scripture says.

There are two genders, man and woman. Period. You cannot change your sexuality. You weren’t born the wrong way. God created you exactly as He intended you to be. Rejecting that is rejecting Him. Saying He was wrong. And that’s a sin- pride. But then that pride leads to more sin of the sexual kind, which in turn leads to your entire lifestyle being sinful.

Sidenote: This kind of sin is literally no better or worse than other sin, to be clear. I really think it’s distasteful how so much of ‘Christian’ culture just slam dunks on LGBTQIA more so than other sin. Is it bad and should be called out? 100%! But that doesn’t make it worse than other sin. Having an idol is just as sinful. Being an addict to a substance is just as sinful. Having uncontrollable wrath is just as sinful. Having straight lust is just as sinful. I could go on. Basically what I’m saying here is that being queer shouldn’t be put into a separate box that gets extra hate from Christians because it’s ‘other’. Because THAT is ALSO sin. Christians who use the queer community as a punching bag and going after them with the Bible as an excuse are sinning just as much and are just as wrong about this.

So. That is all 100% Scripture. Up to this point, all Christians who believe in Gods Word should agree with this. But this next part is more of a gray area, and is now my personal conviction when it comes to this.

Whenever I'm talking to someone who identifies as queer and wants to be refered to pronouns that are not their biological ones casually, I try to use their name as much as possible. If I'm talking to someone who believes that they are a woman when they are in fact a man, if I say what they're doing is okay by calling them a girl, I think that is Not Great. Using a name feels different to me. So when talking to people as strangers or acquaintances, who I don't know very well, or at all, I'll use whatever name they call themself.

I think that some pronouns are utterly ridiculous to be blunt. I’m not going to refer to someone as an animal or fairy or other neo pronouns that are ridiculous. That is just TOTALLY wild to want to be referred to as not even human and I won’t refer to someone like that. That's where I draw the line. But also to be fair, I do not believe I have ever interacted with someone IRL who wants to be treated in that manner, so I am not as clear on that.

BUT- here's where I think some Christians might get upset with me.

At the end of the day I think it is better to use these pronouns, even if they are wrong, than to alienate these people.

Hear me out.

I know a handful of people who identify under the LGBTQIA banner- acquaintances who I interact with regularly, or even actual good personal friends who I love and respect for who they are and who love and respect me for who I am. Some are gay. Some are trans. Some are non-binary. Etc. All of them are very aware of my faith. And I am very aware of their beliefs. And in conversation with them or about them, I do sometimes refer to them by the prounouns they prefer. And because I have done this, it has directly impacted our relationship to where they respect me and like me for who I am, and because of that get to see the light of Christ in my life, rather than just looking at my faith, thinking 'She belongs to this group of people that openly that hates me and people like me' (whether or not that's true, that's what society believes about Christians unfortunately) and then not engaging with me.

Because the way they see it, their queerness is their identity. And if you directly (from their POV) hurt and disrespect and attack that by refusing to call them a 'they' rather than a 'her', then they won't listen to anything you have to say.

See, the thing about spreading the Gospel and preaching to the nations, from my experience, is that you first have to connect with someone on a personal level before you show them why they connected with you and what is different about you- Jesus. Yeah, there is street evangelism, but in my experience that only ever works if God has been working on their hearts already before someone stops them on the street to chat about Christ. It truly and utterly working to give someone a real and total conversion experience that sticks right in the moment is kinda rare. I certianly don't believe all the videos Christian influencers make on it. Otherwise its an emotional hit deal. Or it just alienates them further from Christians being so forceful on them. And so I think that if I can take the steps to connect with someone who is queer as a person first, by treating them in the way that they believe respect works, then its going to be a lot easier and nautral for me to introduce the subject of Jesus' death on the cross for our sins. They like me and respect me, so they'll listen to what I have to say when they see that it is important to me. Because that's how friendship works.

OR, this has 100% happened before multiple times, THEY have brought up the topic of sexuality and pronouns FIRST, before we've talked about anything beyond our favorite ship or the coffee we both order each time we go to this one special place. MULTIPLE TIMES, they've broached the topic of "Every Christian I have ever talked to before in my entire life has treated me with disrespect and refused to call me the way I want to be called. You are the first kind and respectful Christian to queer people I have ever met. Even though I know you disagree with what my sex is. You're still nice. Why?" And then from there I get to talk about what the Bible actually teaches and what God's rescue plan for us actually is and what it all means.

See what I'm going for here? On the one hand, affirming gender identity isn't ideal, but on the other, it is what can allow you to show them what the Gospel actually is. And that a lot of 'Christians' aren't Christian. And they are totally right that some people use it as an excuse to be hateful. 'Christian' parents who reject their gay children and cut them out of their lives are 100% wrong and sinning and WILL be condemmed for it. They are right about that. So by doing what I do, by refering to them in the way they see as respectful in certain cases, I've made connections, and planted seeds, and gotten them to understand why I believe what I believe. I've done what Christ has called me to do- preached the Gospel. Now it's up to Him and the person in question to do with that information what they will.

Now could I be wrong about this? 100%. I don’t know everything. But I have arrived at this conclusion not because it sounds good or is the easiest option, but through close examination of the Word, and through where I truly do believe that the Spirit has lead me in prayer. If someone who is spiritually mature with good moral standing who I respect wants to correct me, then by all means do so and I will listen and think about it, just like I would and have before with any other issue. But until then, this is my conviction.

[zepskies]

Oooh here we go, diving right back into Angst City with some manic Cowboy Sheriff. 😅

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away. “You okay?” Jenny checked carefully. “I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

*snorts* Oh, he's not handling this well, is he? Can't really blame him, considering a serial killer has the love of his life captured somewhere. 🥲

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy. How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

Oh Goddd, it really is awful. It's like nowhere in his life is private or safe anymore for him. How could you ever feel comfortable in your own office again?

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

loll I could definitely see that. 😅

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

THANK YOU. At least one of them is taking this situation more seriously than their rivalry. But I honestly understand and sympathize with Randy too -- he's grasping at straws even though he knows he's losing his (former) wife emotionally already, even if he does manage to find the key to saving her before Beau does.

“‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk,

Ok, just shoot this bitch out back and bury her under the sheriff's office. Honestly. 😤 (But the monkeys line did make me snort lol)

“About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

Dammmmn how the hell is she getting this information?? But now I'm looking at Randy sideways even harder. 😒

I was on pins and needles throughout all of the reader's almost escape -- that bear trap actually made me physically grimace/wince!! Omg poor thing. But I loved how remembering Beau's advice helped her get out of the trap -- or at least the bear trap, if not Hal's "Benders"-themed game of hunt and chase. 😰

Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest. They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

Such a great moment between Beau and Randy here, and such great storytelling, especially as they actually start to work together to solve the mystery of what happened to the reader next. 👏🏽💜 I think one of the things I love most about your writing is you have such a great sense of story beats, creating tension and when to relieve it, and how to build character arcs that provide amazing twists, while also making exact sense when it all comes together, piece by piece.

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

Oh these two were made for her -- she was actually listening to his ramblings. 🥰💜

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Remember earlier when I was talking about your amazing twists that make things click into place even more perfectly? Well THIS IS IT. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 It makes things with her and Beau make even more sense now that we know she was likely leaving Randy anyway, no matter how much she loved him.

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

YES, Beau!! I get it, Randy's been dealt a shitty hand, but Beau's POV in this situation and conversation is so valid. 👌🏽 (Especially since she was likely leaving Randy anyway.)

Regardless, it seems like they had the honest man-to-man talk they needed to have about everything. But Wayne!!! That cliffhanger is...

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

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[lovesickeros]

☆ i dream of embers

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes no au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.1k

The House of the Hearth is quiet — or, if you really wanted to be precise, the rats scuttling through the walls are working around the bubble you exist in. The children dare not tempt fates hand unless you asked for them by name, a contradiction. An order to the rules — they mustn't approach you with trivialities, but they must listen if you speak. Your words carry more weight than gold in this house, whether you know it or not.

A tenuous position.

You haven't done anything to earn their reverence, their almost acrid fear — but Arlecchino has. She wields her silver tongue with as much ease as her polearm, ensuring your care in her absence. Her devotion, her service, is felt in the warmth of her chambers, the silks she adorns you with, the bed so soft you feel as though you melt into it. A gift, a promise — a gilded cage need not be something undesirable.

You've grown used to the encumbrance of her presence, these days. The deep timbre of her voice, honeyed yet melting into something rougher, quieting into haunting silence as if she seeks not to disturb you. Dim candlelight is all that illuminates her broad frame as she slowly presses the door open and closed behind her, pallid skin streaked with darkening red, her bottom lip smeared with it like lipstick. There is a tension to her shoulders even when she sets aside her polearm, out of sight and out of mind, harsh lines on her face visible in the deep furrow of her thin brows.

Here, she let's the weariness settle deep into her bones — it's just the two of you, even if she hasn't acknowledged you at all. Still, it's a vulnerability she shows no other, even if that vulnerability is hidden behind layers of barbed wire and teeth.

You watch rather idly from the bed as she wets a cloth in a basin of water, the bed creaking beneath you as your feet sink into the plush rug beneath. You know from experience that trying to help her is like trying to soothe a wild dog, but your knuckles brush over the sharp line of her cheek anyway, free hand stealing the soaking cloth from her hands when her jaw flexes and tenses beneath the pads of your fingers.

It is only then that she looks down at you, eyes as sharp as blades yet so indescribably warm — like a flame licking at your skin, burning so deep you feel it linger for weeks after. Arlecchino is not soft, far from it — but she blunts her jagged edges for you anyway, brushes her lips against your knuckles and allows you a moment of adoration. Carves her worship bone deep in the ghost of her touch against your lower back as she leans down, let's you wash away the blood certainly not her own, never blinking as if you'd simply up and leave if she stopped looking at you for even the smallest moment.

You are well aware she is caging you in. You let her.

Though she is still stiff as a board up to the moment you set the washcloth over the side of the basin, her jaw flexing again, a moment of consideration given. She is not used to soft and brittle things, though — not used to touch that does not lead to steel at her throat, in her gut, carving out softness like a butcher carves up meat, section by section.

But this affliction of affection is stronger than the discomfort, at times.

You almost half consider letting her take the room and have a night of proper rest, but she is faster than you — a calloused hand tilts your head back, half lidded eyes glinting beneath the weight of exhaustion, her thumb firm against your bottom lip. She could kill you without even blinking, you are aware, but she is nothing but careful with her touch — not soft, not Arlecchino, but there is adoration in her touch. Like thumbing a locket portrait, trying to imprint their features into memory by touch alone.

Her touch is fleeting, but the warmth lingers long after — you don't need to be touching to feel the weight of her attention. She stokes the flames of the dying fire, has one of the children bring a fresh pot of tea, lingers even when she doesn't have to. You're sure her desk in her office is far more comfortable to work at, but she'd crammed a small desk into the room anyway, stayed even long after you fell asleep most nights. You never did get to stay up long enough to notice her slip in beside you, nor wake up early enough to find her there with you, but the heat lingers — she leaves breakfast at your bedside table, a small note of affection if she's feeling particularly sappy. Even when you don't see her, she makes sure you feel her presence however she can.

Neither of you need to speak to express it. The silence is..oddly comfortable, filled by the shift of paper or scratch of a pen, the clink of a cup or crackle of fire. It's a little too easy to get lost in watching her work, masking a smile whenever she glanced back at you with a question on the tip of her tongue that goes unsaid.

It's better that way, you both think. The silence was best left undisturbed — as if trying to break it would be like breaking the mirror to each others lives. You don't busy yourself in the affairs of the House of the Hearth, and she doesn't make you. It's better that way, too. Maybe that makes you naive, blind even, to the bodies at her feet piled so high she could drown, but you don't want to give up this fragile tranquility.

So you let the dull scratch of a pen lull you to sleep, try not to smile too much when a hand reaches out in uncertainty to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheek with so much affection it makes it hard to breathe.

It's a tenuous balance, but come the next night you will wipe the blood from her cheek again and she will care for you the only way she knows how — distant service.

And when you wake up to an empty bed, warm despite the fires long burned out, you'll still feel her presence in the allure of a warm drink and pastries at your bedside, a note tucked beneath the plate.

Just like the day before, and just as you expect tomorrow to be. But one day you'll gently pull apart the barbed wire and be let in — not today, no, but someday. It's a slow process, but you're patient enough to wait — and when she let's you in, you'll tend to the scars that it left like you've always done.

One step at a time, one day.

[salty-an-disco]

For that send me a character post could I ask for Prisoner please

thanky for the ask!!

Send Me a Character and I'll List:

– favorite thing about them: her monotome and dry sense of humor compels me……… I love her face when we ask about the extra chain in the cabin, and she goes, "Maybe it'll fit". And how she tries to feign nonchalance when you're putting it on, but is clearly also curious about it lol. She's so silly, actually, it's just buried by the autism flat-effect.

– least favorite thing about them: Uuuuuuhh, don't think I have one? I genuinely love everything about her character and how she's portrayed.

– favorite line: "To question everything is to deny the truth in front of you. By believing in your suffering, you make your suffering real. By believing in your limitations, you placed a shackle on your neck."

– brOTP: Cold&Prisoner. These two are so similar to each other in so many ways, and the way they differ (Pris being more pragmatic and cautious while Cold is more reckless), they can complement each other. I think they'd be those Emo Friends who just sit next to each other for hours and that's how they have a great time. So fucking mad that burnout came in before I got to write about these two interacting for 'The Rotting Town', their possible dynamic is everything to me ismsksmmxmx

– OTP: Don't really have one for Prisoner, just kinda low-key ship her with Damsel and know she and Skeptic are queer-platonic partners.

– nOTP: Also don't have one.

– random headcanon: she's got sooooo much muscle pain cuz of those chains. Any kinda movement is painful, but she got so used to it, it's just background noise to her unless it fires up really badly.

– unpopular opinion: I dunno 🤷

– song i associate with them: Lovely by Billie Eilish and Everything Stays from Adventure Time

– favorite picture of them:

it's just. such a perfect face akmskksmsm. look at her!! she's so done with this already

[ilikekidsshows]

I've recently come across a post or two about Chloé damnation again and it included the points "Chloé dismisses and disrespects Chat Noir because he's subserviant to Ladybug and therefore she treats him as weak and as badly as Sabrina"

Which got me thinking about how BADLY this looks when you don't just ignore Marinettes shit treatment of Chat Noir, degrading him as her punching bag pet and eternal scapegoat unworthy of effort and anything else so she mustn't make the tiniest compromise.

Like, if you actually wanna go that route that Chloe looked up to Ladybug and treats Chat Noir like Sabrina, then you can't just skip the step where Marinette's treatment of Chat Noir would obviously validate Chloe in her treatment of Sabrina since Marinette has herself be 24/7 and openly be celebrated and rewarded for treating Chat like a pet to take her moods out on.

Between Queen Banana and Penalteam, there is no way Chloé HASN'T picked up on that from Ladybug. Queen Banana makes a joke out of Ladybug taking her sweet time after Chloé threatened to have Chat Noir beaten into a pile of meat, and in Penalteam Marinette uncaringly leaves Chat Noir behind to be publicly tormented and humiliated by Chloe, just so Marinette can get an unnecessary whole team and play soccer instead of defeating the akuma because her EGO was on the line

In Penalteam, Chat is the one person Marinette never once helps despite knowing he's the one who NEEDS her because he TOLD her he doesn't know how to play soccer. Chloé was on screen fully aware that she can continue bullying Chat Noir however she pleases, Ladybug won't intervene.

These two episodes made that CANON. Chloe learned from Ladybug that Chat Noir is a pet who can be tormented and humiliated however chloe pleases, Ladybug won't do anything because that's how a great leader and hero behaves.

Of course that doesn't give Chloe a free pass from doing so or treating Sabrina like that, but people sure are cherry picking how Chloe having looked up to Ladybug affected her when it comes to Marinette's morally bankrupt scapegoating of Chat Noir.

There is an obvious connection here that people don't wanna acknowledge, but sure wanna play that card anyway.

---

And that's just one example of how the people listing Chloé’s sins should really be more careful, because Marinette has done at least half the same stuff as Chloé, and some of it worse. I know part of the time Marinette has good intentions, but one, that's only part of the time, and two, I’ve said repeatedly that Marinette’s good intentions should not take precedence over the harm she causes.

You can take this approach with a lot of villains, actually, where, if you start listing things that make them a bad person, you’ll end up with a list that’s at least 50% stuff Marinette has also done. It’s not that uncommon for the villains to reflect aspects of the hero, for there to be purposeful parallels between them that show how the villains aren’t pure evil or the hero purely good. But, like, Miraculous seems to do this accidentally, because these similarities don’t get acknowledged by anyone in universe, and the only times they do get pointed out, it’s to show Marinette as being equally good or better based on the arbitrary value of her being Marinette while the other character isn’t.

For example, the only time the show really draws attention to the similarities between Marinette and Gabriel, it’s to prop up her fashion designing skills, how much she reminds people of a younger Gabriel. Yet, when she’s doing the exact same things, devaluing Adrien’s emotions, shutting down his concerns and attempts to reach out and, as of season 6, actively making him miserable through her neglect, no one bats an eye and we’re just supposed to overlook it because she’s stressed and “has good intentions” and didn't mean to do it. Like, what do her good intentions matter when she’s doing the same things to her hero partner and boyfriend as his abusive dad?

I could make a whole list of how Marinette has done a lot of the same stuff as all the most reviled, "evil" characters in the series, but that would take a while, and I have other things going on than writing a dossier of all the things people insisting Marinette is morally superior to Chloé, Lila and Gabriel should keep out of the discussion.

[dark-elf-writes]

Apollo telling Percy he’ll fix his amnesia after he kills the guy that almost killed his sister. Plus, ya know, prophecy stuff

(Percy, once his memories are returned, would be more pissed if he wouldn’t also do anything and cross any line for his family)

Percy really wants to hate Apollo for leaving him alone and without his memories in Japan… but then he sees Artemis, currently wearing the body of an eight year old girl and slumped against the side of her throne looking more worn than Percy has ever seen a god or goddess with a beautiful silver prosthetic leg curled onto the massive seat with her and he just… can’t.

(If it had been someone he loved that was caught in that explosion and he had been busy tending to them what would he have done. If someone he trusted to see it through had been in just the right place to get revenge would he have stepped in? Would he have stopped it.

It aches that he knows the answer so easily.

Loyalty was his fatal flaw after all.)

So he doesn’t look at the sun god and instead moves to kneel in front of Artemis’ throne, head bowed low in a sign of respect he hadn’t bothered to give even his father.

“The threat has been taken care of.”

Kurosensei had fractured into light under his and Nagisa’s joined hands on the hilt of Riptide. The monsters who had made him long since gone. The world was saved at the cost of one man and a class full of children’s innocence.

It hurt. Hurt so bad that Percy could barely breathe. But he knew there would be more hurt to come.

There was shuffling above him, the sound of metal on polished stone, then a little hand rested on his hair. Percy tried not to look at the elegantly carved prosthetic. Tried not to look at the burns on Artemis’ other leg. He failed.

“You have my gratitude,” Her voice is low, rough. Like she had been screaming. Like even there she had been burned.

Glowing silver light covered him. Distantly, Percy heard Apollo let out a rather strangled sound from where he was hovering nearby and running footsteps, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop the gift, the blessing, given.

Artemis looked even more tired when he lifted his head, looked absolutely tiny as Apollo wrapped an arm around her and took her weight against him, but her eyes never wavered from Percy’s face bright and burning with determination.

So Percy bowed his head and thanked her again, and if at every meal he gave two offerings that was his business and his alone.

[ashton-ryder]

Ashton didn't flinch at the outburst volume, but did wince at the substance of those words. It didn't change his question, compared to her, if she declared his out casting, would they really deny her? He didn't even have the answer to his question, what could they have done? Nothing, it wasn't their fault. He inserted himself into their lives and they owed him nothing. Instead, all he could say was what encapsulated his decision to keep quiet, "and she's family too, isn't she," Ashton started before steeling himself to look at JP's heartbroken face, "how could I do that to you, hurt you and make you choose between your family to turn against?" Telling Jeremiah or Charlie hadn't changed much of the status quo, even if Jer managed to quell her at times (in ways he rather not know and let the jealousy fester over) for Ash to last long enough till now. And he rather spare JP the hurt because he would be the one to hurt the most by this, and it still won't change anything.

He paused at the second painful question, eyes looking away before he even dare murmur, "well, you made it plenty clear you didn't want me there tonight." If he'd admit it, it hurt a little to barely be acknowledged, not during the fight, not as they shared words of love, not as they left the room while he picked up broken glass. He felt like he didn't belong in there, but so much worse for being the one to have caused it. Instances came in small doses over the years that unconsciously drew a line he knew he shouldn't cross; celebrating birthdays, family nights, JP protecting Sada, they were all small and petty and meant nothing individually, but piling them up together alongside Sada's constant torment of reminders for years was a bad recipe for his overthinking mind.

There wasn't enough time in the night to tell him all of it. But Ashton doesn't comment on that and instead opened the can of worms he can never close ever again. He didn't know if this was the right thing to do, he was so afraid of it being the wrong thing to do, but he was so stuck, what else could he do? Ashton let out a long, shaky exhale when he finally ran out of words, he couldn't do anymore of this tonight. When JP's voice finally calmed into something softer, anger dissipated, sharp edges no longer there, did Ashton genuinely look up to him from the floor, a small breath escaped through a ghost of a smile, "..it does," mirroring the complete opposite reply of the similar words of comfort he told JP earlier, greeting it with softness instead of rage. He was trying to bargain with himself that the moment he got his PhD, he had to leave New York, he couldn't do this for the rest of his life with Sada breathing down his neck, but even with that deadline approaching he wasn't sure if he had the heart to leave what had been a second home that welcomed him with open arms since day one. Not that it mattered any more, PhD not even in his sights right now.

It was a valid question that brought a sigh that came out half a laugh of the crude way it was asked, Ash was about to answer when JP decided to make a guess that caught him off guard, "huh-?" He hadn't been ready to think about that, even if JP had been teasing him about it and him denying it for years, suddenly it all felt too real within just days ago, and yet not real at all. It was.. confusing if only on a very miniscule level. Jer's words still ringing heavily in the back of his head as a reminder; there's Sada, there always will be Sada and that's never going to change. "No- no. I don't-- think so.." it was perhaps the first time Ashton actually hesitated debunking JP's theories about the two of them, always quick to deny because nothing ever happened between them before. A seed of doubt now wondering if Jer told Sada, but he quickly swatted it away, it was too soon for either of them to want to deal with that. He wouldn't.. right?

Ashton ran a hand through his hair ending up rubbing over his face, thankful for the darkness of the night that JP couldn't see him properly, "we- I mean.." So much truth came out today Ash almost kept going, stopping himself in time. But the sudden panic rose, "please don't tell her." JP could break his trust and run back to Sada with everything else, but not this one, "you'll probably actually find my corpse if you do," he tried to add an air of joke but in the end felt much more heavy as a fucking true possibility, and his deep blues glanced up with an underlying desperation, words uttered so softly but seriously almost as a beg, "..please." If JP wanted proof of good will of Ash trusting him with the truth, this was it. It felt like he was putting his heart in JP's hand and guess this was about to test who he really was to JP, compared to Sada.

"I really don't fucking know, I just.. I had a mission once in New York - I'm sure she's told you this already. It's just been so much worse since she followed us back here and we're essentially stuck in here together."

"You're fucking family!" he roared, reminiscent of his older brother. "That's what you are. And to the Roses, that matters. What do we have to do to make you believe that?" he asked almost rhetorically. Being accepted as one of them was a fucking honor that Ash should have just taken. He didn't have to keep doubting himself like he was and, mad or not, that broke John-Paul's heart. "Fuck Sada," he said surprisingly even for him, but he was pissed at her for keeping her mouth shut and even madder with the possible truth to Ashton's revelations. "When have we ever made you feel anything less than one of us?"

Why else would he have gotten so mad at him for keeping things from him. He had, for the most part, been honest and open with him. With the important stuff anyway. John-Paul didn't understand why Ashton felt he couldn't do the same. Or how he had been so blind to the fact that his friend had been suffering so badly because of the woman he considered a mother. What anger he'd felt at the party had, by now, dissipated into a self-reflective hatred. Had he really made Ash feel like he couldn't be trusted?

"All of it," he answered as if it had been a question when Ash scoffed. Then he shut the fuck up and let him talk.

His brow furrowed in deep regret when he fully realized he hadn't been the safe space he'd thought he was for him, the pain in Ash's eyes nearly fatal. Worse still he remembered overhearing Amelia say something about a break-in during a facetime call. And how, when he asked about it, it had been brushed off as misplacing her earrings. What Ash didn't know was that he'd asked Sada to use her connections just to check it out, worried about Amelia's safety, and he been reassured she was fine. Had Sada lied to him?

He gave a short, silent nod when he asked about his telescope - because yes he did remember Charlie trying to get some money together some years back. And how he'd given her most of what she was needing when he finally got her to admit why she'd needed it. However, he'd been given a story of Ash dropping it. John-Paul suddenly felt like he didn't know anyone anymore, each confession distorting the reality he once knew.

The realization of what an asshole he'd been was now painfully obvious to him. But how did he say sorry now. "If it means anything at this point I'm glad you didn't leave," he offered quietly. "You could tell me why she has such a hard on for you," he added crudely. "Is it over Jer?" he guessed, Ash's feelings for his brother unspoken knowledge between the two.

[doctorpleasant]

So you’re saying the brutal enforcer of the ruthless drug lord who fractured the Underground gets to represent the people of Zaun instead of, idk, one of the Firelights?

[merlinmerlot]

I could play one of the most beautiful well crafted video games on the planet and it will never be as appealing to me as one that kind of sucks shit but has soooo much potential

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[camscendants]

Had a bad day at work yesterday