#someone please shut up about liz for a second and give the rest of the task force a hug

[smol-blue-bird]

the blacklist is certainly A Show

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Give her the life I never had; Harry Potter x child reader

*Author’s note*

So this came from my Wattpad requests and this is my first Harry potter (character not fandom) fic that I have written so I hope I didn’t mess this up for any hardcore Potterheads out there.  So this takes place during the Battle at Hogwarts so expect some death and violence involved, other than that not really much anything really. I know it’s been awhile since my last update but I hope to pick up the pace and post up some more stuff and then HOPEFULLY open up requests here since I know you all have been waiting patiently for that.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

@psychosupernatural​

@queen-paladin​

_____________________________________________________________

It was finally over. All of it.  Voldemort was now dead, the Death eaters defeated, and now the Elder wand was destroyed and lost to the sea.  I looked towards the ruins of Hogwarts knowing that the stone and walls can be rebuilt, some of our friends would be able to heal their physical wounds, however some mental wounds won’t.

The Weasleys they’ll always have to live with Fred’s death for the rest of their life and grieve over the fact he’ll never come back, especially George.  I had seen just how close their brotherly bond was, even when they had nothing they had each other, now George was gonna have to make do on his own, if he could.

And Hermione, while she doesn’t want us to know I had a feeling at what she had done to protect her muggle parents, thankfully with her and Ron seeming to repair their growing relationship, I know the Weasley’s will welcomingly be the family she needs now more than ever.

As I walked along the school grounds that’s when I came across (Y/n) getting looked over by one of the healers.  When she looked towards me, she gently smiled and I smiled softly back at her thinking back on how I found her in all this chaos.

The battle was pure hell.  Spells and curses being blasted, bodies dropping like flies, and rubble from the school walls crumbling down as repercussions from the spells firing out.

I had pushed back a Death Eater with an Stupefy spell which sent him flying all the way across the Great Hall.  Another death eater soon came right at me but I quickly disposed of his wand first before giving him the paralyzing spell.

That’s when I heard it.  The sound of a young girl crying.  I quickly ran around the corridor and saw just down the stairs where I once found the Mirror of Erised, a young girl around maybe her 1-2nd year hovering over an older girl who looked almost like her but had longer hair.  The young girl with shorter hair was weeping hysterically as she kept crying.

“Liz? Lizzie. Get up sis. Oh please get up.” From the pale skin and the soulless eyes that Lizzie had, I knew immediately she had been hit with the Killing curse. Cautiously I walked over to her and said.

“Are you alright?” the young girl looked up at me and she sniffled.

“Yes. But my sister she—she won’t wake up yet her eyes are open.” Knowing how I hadn’t learned of the 3 unforgiving curses until my 4th year at Hogwarts, she must’ve not known what exactly happened to her sister.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well (Y/n), I…….I’m afraid to tell you this but……..your sister’s—she’s dead.”

“What? No but….if she were dead her eyes would be shut, the spell that hit her just made her collapse. Like the paralysis spell.”

“But it wasn’t a blue light that hit her, was it?” she looked back down at her sister and touched her cheek.  “I’m afraid it was the most dangerous of all unforgiving curses. The Killing Curse.” She sniffled and hugged her sister’s corpse and choked out.

“But—she was…..she’s all I have left!” I looked around and two more Death eaters spotted us.

“Get behind me.” I urged (Y/n).  Without question she got behind me and I held out my wand and as they charged toward us I called out, “Stupefy!” which sent one Death eater flying backwards but then I felt a shock to my hand which sent my wand flying towards the second Death eater’s hand.  She sneered at me but then a voice exclaimed.

“Petrificus Totalus!” the female Death eater soon went stiff and fell to the ground.  I turned and saw that it was (Y/n) who had casted the curse.  I ran over and took my wand back from the witch and told her.

“Come on. We can’t stay here.” She took one last look at her sister.  I knew she was hesitant to leave her but if she remained here, she’d be a sitting duck.  “Your sister would want you safe (Y/n).” she turned to me and nodded before taking my hand and we raced out of the hallway.

Together the two of us worked together to fend off the oncoming Death Eaters, but one Death eater used an Inferno spell which burnt (Y/n)’s arm pretty bad.  I shielded her from the next oncoming Inferno attack but the heat of the flames was almost too strong for me to hold back.  That’s when a wave of water came and extinguished the flames and the Death Eater was flown backwards till his back hit a column and he collapsed dead.

We turned and there stood Professor McGonagall.

“Professor.”

“Harry, Ms. (L/n) are you both alright?”

“I am, (Y/n) however got burnt on her arm.” She walked up to us and she examined (Y/n)’s arm. She let out a painful hiss and the Professor said.

“I’ll take care of her from here Potter.”

“Thank you Professor.” Just as I was about to leave, I felt a hand grab the sleeve of my shirt and I saw that it was (Y/n).

“Thank you, Harry Potter.” I smiled down at her and nodded to her.  She released my sleeve and I ran off to finally end this once and for all.

I walked over to her just as the healer cleared her off and moved onto the next student that needed medical treatment.  I sat down beside her and asked her.

“How are you doing (Y/n)?”

“Shaky but—alive.” She softly scoffed.  “But at what cost? My sister’s dead. She was the only family I had left. Now the ministry will probably put me in the Magic for Orphans facility, and with me almost being a teenager, no one will want me.”

I was probably the only one who knew what she must be going through.  Even though we were orphaned in different circumstances, we still lost our loved ones to Voldemort.  Now I must be crazy because I had no clear idea of what to do next but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave (Y/n) alone anymore.

“What if—” I started off by saying.  “What if you…had someone to look after you?”

“But, but Harry I—I have no other living relatives. It’s always just been me and my sister since our parents died three years ago at the Quidditch world cup.”

“I know, but what if there was someone who wanted to help you out. Give you a home so that you wouldn’t have to suffer any potential abuse or neglect.”

“And just who would that person be?” I sighed softly before telling her.

“You’re looking at him.” Her eyes softly widened before she let out a soft gasp.

“But-but why? I mean no offense Harry but…..why would you want to help me out?”

“Let’s just say, from one orphan to another I know how lonely it can be. I had no clue about the magic world till I was just your age, and though I may not know how the Ministry of Magic deals with orphaned wizards, I do know a thing or two about living in terrible conditions. I lived practically my whole childhood in a tiny hall closet in my aunt and uncle’s place. And I wouldn’t want you to potentially go through that type of abuse in a stranger’s home.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment, taking in what I just said.  Weighing out her options before thinking about what answer she would give me.

“If not I’ll understand, I’ll check in whenever I can. But just know you won’t go through the rest of your life alone.” She looked up at me.  Her eyes that were once filled with tears, but now filled with courage and strength as she said.

“If it won’t be too much trouble with you, I’ll go with you.” I softly smiled at her and told her taking notice of her robes.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

After that, the Weasley family, Hermione, myself and (Y/n) returned to the Weasley’s old home the Burrow and decided to rebuild it, a symbol as a fresh start to all our lives after this whole war.

We also had a memorial service for both Fred and (Y/n)’s older sister, each of us speaking for both Fred and (Y/n)’s sister before finally burying them and summoning a beautiful garden around them of their favorite flowers and plants.

As the sun was starting to set I saw (Y/n) still standing over her sister’s grave.  I walked out to her and said.

“Mrs. Weasley’s prepared supper for all of us. She says you best come in before it’s all gone.” (Y/n) remained silent.  I softly sighed and without another word I just stood there beside her.  She may not want to talk, but she should at least know that someone was there when she was ready.

“I—never thought I’d have to face this world without her. Even through our fights, especially after mom and dad died, she was always there for me. She especially liked to tease me about my crush on Joey Matarazzo, saying we’d get married one day and have kids of our own. Now she won’t ever see me grow up, or achieve any dreams I’ll have for the future.”

“Let me tell you something my Godfather once told me. He told me that the ones that love us never really leave us. And we can always find them, in here.” I pointed to her heart.

She looked up at me and finally for the first time I saw a true, genuine smile.  She came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist and rested her head against my ribs.  I wrapped an arm around her and we stood there for a few more minutes before walking back inside the Burrow to join the Weasley’s for dinner.

*FF 19 years later.*

It was like any other year, but this time it was my second son’s first time doing this.  I could already see from the look on his face that he looked anxious about his first year going as we came up to platform 9¾.

“Together.” I assured him as we took hold of his cart and we both ran straight through the brick wall and found ourselves right by the Hogwarts Express.  As we walked closer to the train, we soon found Ron and Hermione with their kids, I spotted Draco and his wife and son bidding their goodbyes.  He and I looked at each other, neither of us speaking a word but he gave me a point nod, and I nodded back to him.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to write my own brothers up for detention already.” A female voice soon spoke up and coming right towards us was (Y/n), all grown up and in her Professor robes.

Since the battle she continued on her Hogwarts education and excelled in both Magical creature knowledge and potions making.  By the time she was in her 4th year at Hogwarts, Ginny and I had agreed to legally adopt her as our own child and she was beyond thrilled at the news.  After graduating, she worked with me at the Ministry of Magic to focus on potion brewery before enrolling to be the next Potions Professor and this would be her second year teaching that class.

I’m told she’s kind but firm when it comes to students goofing off in that class, but she is always there to make sure no student messes up a potion and causes injuries either to themselves or others.

“Not in the slight.” I assured her.

“Good. I would hate to have to write them up to Headmaster McGonagall.” She told me.  She looked down at her brothers and asked them, “So boys, you ready?”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed James while Albus was more reserved and didn’t really say anything. Instead he walked away and sat down with his arms hugging his legs close to him.  (Y/n) and I looked at each other and I told her to get James onto the train as well as herself while I talked to James.  She nodded and guided James as well as his things over to the train while I walked over to Albus and knelt down beside him.

“Dad,” he spoke. “What if I am put in Slytherin?”

“Albus Severus Potter. You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. And one of them was a Slytherin. And he was the bravest man I had ever known. But if it means to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat does take that into consideration.”

“Really?” I nodded. “But how would you feel? If I was sorted into Slytherin?”

“Then Slytherin will have gained the best wizard they could ask for.” He smiled and embraced me and I hugged him back.  “Now come on, off you go.” We then walked towards the train and Albus got himself situated inside with his brother and Ron and Hermione’s kids, and riding alongside them to keep an eye on them to Hogwarts was (Y/n).

As I stood by my friends and we watched the train leave the station, waving goodbye to our kids I couldn’t help but feel like we had done it.  The war ended almost 2 decades ago and now our children can learn magic in a better world, a world without Death Eaters, a world without darkness and death, a world without a Dark Lord.

A peaceful time in our world.

[betweenthepages]

The Cure: Chapter 1

Summary: You get outed to your parents and it doesn’t go so well. But at least you have Jess Mariano.

Word count: 2370

⚠️Warnings⚠️: homophobia, homophobic violence

“Mom? Dad?” You called out, stepping into the silence of your home. You entered the living room and was met with the sight of both your parents seated on the couch. Your father’s gaze fixated on the floor with his hands clasped in front of him, lips drawn in a thin line. Your mother lifted her head in acknowledgment. The TV was off, no conversation being exchanged. Idleness hung in the atmosphere. “What’s going on?” You frowned. “Sit down, (Y/N).” Nervousness bubbled in your chest as you sat across from them. “Did I do something?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

Your dad’s eyes locked with yours. “Are you gay?” The question was completely unexpected. Your eyes widened in confusion. Sweat moistened your palms. “Am I- what?”

“Are. You. Gay. With that Mariano boy?” He gritted his teeth, his voice low to the point of growling. Your muscles tensed and you quickly debated coming clean or denying it. They wouldn’t be too pleased with the knowledge that you liked other boys, especially Jess. Heck you weren’t even allowed to be friends with him. You knew you couldn’t hide it forever. You were planning to let them know once you moved out and were no longer reliant on them. Perhaps deception would work, for now.

“No?” you put on your best act of confusion, “Where are you getting this from?” Your mother whipped her head towards you, eyes filled with a darkness that was completely unfamiliar. Your dad’s face reddened, fists clenched and visibly shaking. Fear clouded your senses. “What are these, then?” Your mother placed some pictures on the coffee table. Pictures of you and Jess. Holding hands and kissing. Your heart sunk to your stomach. “W-Where did you get these...?” Your voice was shaky from restraining tears. “They were left in our mailbox this morning, no envelope or name. How can you explain this (Y/N)?” Your mom scowled. Your throat went dry. Who would do this to you? Who hated you this much? Well, it didn’t matter who had done it, because there was no way to cover it up.

“It’s true, okay? I’m gay, I’ve been seeing Jess for-” You were cut off by a stinging pain on your cheek and a sharp sound echoing the room. Your father loomed over you, nostrils flaring and looking at you with pure hatred. You cowered in his shadow. “I did not raise a gay son! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! All those years of giving you a good life and a roof over your head for nothing! Disgraceful.” You whimpered as he fisted your hair painfully and reared your head back to look up at him. “You are not my son.” He spat. In quick seconds your body painfully collided with the coffee table, pain shooting up your abdomen. You barely had time to catch a breath before you were yanked up and slammed against the wall. Rough, calloused hands, pressing against your windpipe. You squirmed in an useless attempt to flee. Your chest tightened painfully. Your head felt light. You wanted Jess. He would hold you and protect you and take you away from this pain. Black spots dotted your vision and you thought ‘this is it. I’m going to die.’ Seconds before you passed out, the hands removed themselves and you collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. You cherished the temporary relief of having oxygen in your lungs while it lasted. You were kicked down into a lying position, your father’s heel coming in contact with area that hit the table. Tears cascaded down your swollen cheeks as you curled into yourself. The blows kept coming. You just shut your eyes and took it, holding onto hope that it would end eventually. By the time your dad finally took his foot away, your body was at it’s breaking point. Every breath came with immense pain. Bruises, scrapes and cuts blemished your skin. “You’re going to get up,” your father spoke, “and get the fuck out of my house.” You briefly glanced to your mother standing in the corner, staring at you intently. Her expression was unreadable, but she voiced no protest. You were in no state to be able to pack your belongings. Hopefully you’d be able to return and collect them. Or maybe your parents would destroy them. Right now, it wasn’t your concern. Your dad left to the kitchen, probably to get a beer, and your mother followed suit. Mustering the last ounce of strength you had, you crawled to the front door. With every movement your muscles ached. Holding onto the wall for balance, you carefully rose to your feet. Only grabbing your phone and jacket, you exited onto the pitch black streets.

You limped in the direction of Luke’s Diner, but gave up after a block. You were physically incapable of covering the distance. You quickly dialled Jess’s number, tears blurring your vision. It rang once. Twice. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breathing grew heavy. You felt a panic attack oncoming and you needed to hear Jess’s voice. Please pick up, please pick up. “(Y/N)?” Jess said across the line, voice thick with sleep. “Jess...” you whimpered, words getting caught in your throat. “(Y/N) what’s up? It’s late.”

“I-I need you. I need help. It hurts, Jess.”

“What hurts? What happened?” He was awake now, and seemingly alarmed. “I need an ambulance,” you glanced at the street sign, “I’m on Peach Street. Call them and get here, p-please.” Staying conscious was becoming a struggle. “Okay, okay hold on I’ll make the call.” Jess quickly switched lines and you leaned against the wall, waiting. Watching the stars kept you occupied. You were about to close your eyes until the blaring of a siren approached. You could vaguely recognise a car following behind it. As it neared, you recognised it as Luke’s pick up truck. You couldn’t see Jess’s face, but knowing that he came provided some relief. Jess got to you before the paramedics did. Warm hands cupped your battered face and soft caresses ghosted your skin. . “(Y/N), god what happened?” You chuckled bitterly. “Mom and dad found out about us. I’ll explain later. It didn’t go so well though.” You clutched your side. Talking was painful. Jess was about to say something but the paramedics told him to back away so they could load you into a stretcher. “Sir? Sir try to stay awake please.” Said a female paramedic as your eyelids drooped. Jess was out of your vision, but you could make out his voice shouting over them, asking to come on the ambulance. Of course that privilege wouldn’t be extended to non-family. Luke told him to buckle up and he’ll drive them there. You were exhausted, and the pain in your body was unbearable. Your allowed your eyes to shut, darkness replacing the blinding ambulance lights.

Jess and Luke sat in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting news about your condition. Jess’s leg was shaking and he seemed distanced in his thoughts. He had told Luke on the way that this had something to do with your parents. He’s had his fair share of beatings from Liz’s boyfriends, but he was struck with disbelief knowing someone could cause this much damage to their own child. The doctor emerged. “How is he?” Luke asked. “He has 3 broken ribs, internal bleeding, several deep cuts, contusions and a dislocated jaw. But he’s no longer in critical condition. It’s good we got to him when we did, or it may have been too late.” Jess‘s eyes widened and his blood ran cold. Luke thanked the doctor and bid him goodbye, then focused his attention on his distressed nephew. “T-They almost killed him...” Jess whispered, eyes widened and watery. Luke sighed, pulling the boy into a side hug. In truth, he was just as worried as your boyfriend was. He was accepting your relationship and cared for you. Ever since you’d come into Jess’s life, his immature ways and short temper had ceased. His school attendance went up as well as his grades. The sarcastic remarks and witty insults weren’t going away anytime soon, but Luke knew there was a mutual love between him and his nephew. And he knew you meant the absolute world to Jess. “You heard the doctors. He’ll be okay. He’s strong.” He rubbed the teen’s shoulder in consolation.

Patients and visitors entered and exited the hospital doors while Luke and Jess sat in silence. The clock was about to strike 1am yet they were more awake than ever. Jess hadn’t particularly liked your parents previously, but now his hatred for them ran deep. Upon his first arrival to Stars Hollow, they had advised you to keep your distance because word of his troublemaking antics spread fast. But you with your sweet, kind soul was willing to give him a chance.

A nurse approached them. “(Y/N) (L/N) is awake. You can see him now.” Jess bounded to his feet, swiftly stepping to your room without waiting for Luke to follow. He paused abruptly at your door and took a breath. Your head turned at the sound of the door slowly creaking open. Jess stepped in, and a feeling of warmth evaded your body despite the chill of the hospital room. You shifted to make room for him on the bed. Without a word, he embraced you. Careful not to hurt you, he rested his head on your shoulder, and the cloth of the gown dampened. “Jess.” You cooed, rubbing his back. “I almost lost you...” he mumbled. “I-It’s okay. I’m not okay, but I will be. The hospital staff are doing their best.” You attempted a smile but it hurt your face. Jess pulled away with a sigh, calloused hand cupping your cheek. “I want to know what happened. Not now, if you don’t feel like it. When you’re ready.”

“Well, I got home and my mom showed these pictures someone took of us kissing. She said they were left in the mailbox by an anonymous. I told them that I’m gay and that we’re dating, and... yeah.” You averted your gaze to you and Jess’s intertwined hands, playing with his fingers. Jess furrowed his brows. “Why would anybody-” You cut him off. “I don’t care about that now Jess. It’s all so much, I’m gonna see a social worker and the police, I don’t know where I’m going to live, people are gonna talk about what happened. Plus I’m tired and everything’s sore.” You felt like crying again before Jess shushed you, carding his hands through your hair and kissing your cheek. “Hey hey, (Y/N) I’m sorry. Calm down.” He readjusted to a laying position and carefully guided you into laying down on top of him, using his toned chest as a pillow. “I love you. So much. We can figure everything out later, just get some sleep. It’s almost midnight.”

“I want you to stay and be there when I wake up.” You said. “Okay.” Jess smiled. There was a cough, you both turned to see Luke in the doorway. “Well, I’ll leave you guys alone and uh, Jess I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.” He nodded, “Goodnight (Y/N), call me if you need anything.” You smiled at him and bid your goodbyes, before it was back to just you and your boyfriend. Jess leaned over to turn off the light. “I love you, Jess.” You said into the darkness. He responded with a long kiss to your forehead.

Jess woke up first. The hospital staff hadn’t arrived yet, so he wouldn’t get in trouble. He pressed light kisses on your forehead until your eyes fluttered open. “Morning.” He smirked. “Morning,” you grumbled, nuzzling into him. “What’s going on today?” He asked. “I explained the cause of my injuries to the doctor and now I’ve got to talk to the authorities. Then I’m seeing a social worker and doing some paperwork.”

“Where you going to stay?” Jess asked softly.

“If my parents get arrested then I’ll probably get sent to a foster home.” You sighed. “Is that what you want?” Jess frowned. “No, not at all. I mean, no way I’m living with my parents again, but also idea the of going with strangers...” you trailed off, focusing on drawing shapes on his chest. “Move into the diner.” Jess said without no hesitation. “Jess you know I can’t-”

“Yes you can! Really (Y/N), we can talk to Luke about it.”

“Talk to me about what?” Luke stood in the doorway wearing a questioning expression. “Sorry, I was going to knock but I overheard my name.” He chuckled. “Can (Y/N) stay with us?” Jess asked. “Jess no-“

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” Luke shrugged. “I- what?” You turned to Luke in shock. “We can make that arrangement, if that’s what you want (Y/N). You’re at the diner most of the time anyways.” It was true. You always stayed over with Jess and had dates at the diner to keep your relationship discreet. “Well yes, but being a permanent occupant is completely different.” You frowned. “Hey kid, your parents are real shitty people. This is a hard time for you. I have a feeling you don’t want to end up in the foster care system, so this is one less problem to deal with.” He said.

Jess spoke up, “(Y/N), I’m okay with it, and Luke is okay with it. So why the hell not?” You felt like crying again. You practically pounced on Jess babbling a string of ‘thank you’s and peppering kisses on his face in between. He laughed heartily, rubbing your back. Luke observed with a tender smile. “Thank you Luke, really.”

“No problem kid.” He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to seem as less threatening as possible. “Jess and I have to go, the staff are gonna be here any minute. But rest up okay?” You nodded. Jess really didn’t want to leave, you assured him visiting hours were long and regular. Eventually he pulled away and you shared one last kiss before he was out of sight.

[write-orflight]

Settle Down: Chapter 11

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)  

Rating: M

Words: 1.9K

Warnings: Child birth, language, tooth aching fluff

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one  thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a     family, right?

AN: Two updates in a row! (Unedited) Now the taglist is officially closed now that we only have the Epilogue left. Thank you to everyone who took this journey with me, let me know what you think! much love, Cia

Chapter 11: A PowerPoint, really?

Morgan called outside the door for more nurses as soon as he heard what you said. Soon 3 women are rushing into the room, one of them clad with a wheelchair. You look at Morgan as they begin to load you in the chair. 

“Derek, call Garcia and tell her to come with my emergency birth bag, then call Dr. Lizzie and tell her the baby is coming-AHHHHH!” You screamed as you were being wheeled out. Contractions, as they turn out, are the worst feeling ever. 

Garcia is barging into your hospital room not long after that baby bag in tow. You kept an extra one at her place just in case you went into labor when the team was out on a case. “I drove just about 90 mph to get here. How are you feeling, mama bear?” 

“Like Satan himself is putting me on a spit roast.” You grunt through clenched teeth. 

“Think of the bright side you’re about to give birth to the cutest, most intelligent baby.” Garcia says. “Plus Dr. Liz told me I need to keep you calm so let’s do your breathing exercises.” Garcia starts huffing in syncopated time in order to get you to follow. You scream in her face. “Ok, so maybe not.” 

“Who’s ready to have a baby?” Dr. Liz says, in a joyous tone as she sweeps into the room. “Let’s take a look at you.” 

“Thank god! Lizzie, I need epidural. Shoot me up, Doc.” You groan from the pain. 

“So someone is a little more eager to meet the world than we thought. It’s too late to safely administer epidural. You’re going to have to go natural, kid.” 

You look at her wide eyed. “WHAT?!” You shake your head. “I-I can’t.” 

“You can, Y/N.” Penelope says. “You can squeeze me as hard as you can.” 

Tears start to fall from your eyes from the combination of pain and loneliness you felt. “I can’t do this, I need-I need Spencer.” 

You hear the door opening. Spencer walked in pushing an IV still attached to his arm, other one draped around Derek’s shoulder as he helped him walk in. Once Spencer was next to you and leaned against the wall, Derek and Penelope stepped back to give you and Spencer privacy in your moment. 

“Alright, you’re crowning. It’s time to push so next time you have a contraction, I need you to push as hard as you can.” Dr. Liz says, you nod. Spencer is pushing some of your sweat matted hair out of your forehead. 

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in bed.” 

“I told you I’d be here for you, for this.” He says, grabbing your hand letting you squeeze around his palm. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Spencer, I--AHHHHH!” You say, pushing. Your hand tightly squeezes around Spencer’s who despite how rough you must look right now is looking at you with the utmost awe and admiration. Dr. Liz gives you some words of encouragement as you breathe waiting for the next contraction. 

“You don’t have to say it, I know, Y/N. I know.” He says, hand running through your hair. 

“No, I need to say it. Spencer, I’m so in love with you. I love you so much, I’m sorry I kept hurting you but I need you. I love you--AHHHH!! I take it back, I hate you! I fucking hate you for doing this to me!” 

Spencer kisses the hand you’re squeezing. “I love you too, Y/N/N. And I know you don’t mean that. It’s actually fairly common for all mammals giving birth to feel disdain towards their partne--” 

“SHUT UP!” You yell as you push. “I usually love your facts but right now, shut the fuck up!”  

“You’re doing great, mom. Just one more.” You hear Dr. Liz shout over your screams. 

They don’t tell you this in any book, Doctor’s appointment, or  mommy and me class but for a moment even though it is a fleeting moment. There is a stillness in the air where everything is silent and you are only snapped out of it at the sound of your baby’s first cry. Everything else from the cheers to Spencer cutting the cord is drowned by the sound of your baby loudly entering the word. 

Your baby. 

They place her on your bare chest and your arms instinctively wrap around your most precious being. You coo as the baby continues to cry the fluid out of her lungs. She’s covered in blood and goop but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Suddenly the thing you’ve wanted for so long was finally here and she was everything and more than what you thought, the perfect manifestation of you and Spencer’s love for each other. 

Genevieve Rosalind Reid was born early November 10th. Given the name Genevieve after the song, Lady Genevieve, you and Spencer loved so much and Rosalind after famous female scientist Rosalind Franklin. 

Not more than a couple of hours after the rest of the team is slinking into the room to get a peak at the baby, bearing gifts and congratulations to you both. Spencer managed to negotiate with the doctor to at least have a bed moved into your room so if they were going to make him lay and rest at least he could be near you and the baby. Soon, one by one the team starts leaving the last being Penelope who Derek had to haul away with him. You turn to Spencer once they’re gone. 

“I love you, Spencer. I’m sorry I didn’t say it. I was scared.” 

“I know, Y/N. I love you, why were you scared?” 

“I didn’t want to lose you with my selfishness. Genevieve needs you more than I do, I didn’t want to sacrifice her having both parents because I couldn’t control myself.” 

He reaches across the aisle between your beds for your hand which you stretch to him as well. “I’m not going anywhere.” He says looking you in your eyes. “I would never abandon either of you. I love you, but no matter what happens between us, we’ll make it work. For Genevieve.” 

“For Genevieve.” You repeat back.  

------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been about 9 months since you had Genevieve and you and Spencer we’re still going strong. Though the first couple of months were difficult with Spencer being injured and having an actual newborn to care for. You were still better than before, Spencer made things better. Genevieve was perfect and looking more and more like Spencer with each passing day. In fact, it seemed the only trait she did take from you was a wild stubbornness and love for Disney movies. 

You were out walking Genevieve in her stroller when you got a call. 

“Hey Spence. What’s up?” 

“Hey, where are you?” You hear over the line. 

“I’m walking with Gen in the park.” You say. 

“Do you want to meet at the coffee shop on the corner?” 

You shrug even though he can’t see it. “Sure, get me a cold brew.”  

You push the stroller into the coffee shop ten minutes later and walk over to the corner table you and Spencer have deemed yours. Your daughter is already fussy and making grabby hands for Spencer, who smiles and scoops her out the stoller. 

“Hey, Bug.” He says, sweetly as your daughter smiles brightly at him.

“God, she’s such a traitor. Instantly forgets I exist as soon as she sees you.” You say, as he hands her back so you can put in the high chair for lunch. You’re opening her banana and pears baby food when you notice it. “Why do you have my laptop?” You ask. 

“Well, open it.” 

You give Spencer a weird look before handing him the food to feed Genevieve so you can open the laptop. Your heart stops for a second as you read what’s on the screen. 

“A PowerPoint, really?” You chuckle. “Spencer, what is this?” 

“This is Reasons Why You Should Marry Me.” He says, looking up to look you in the eyes. 

“Yea, I got that from the title, Spence.” You chuckle, wetly. “And you thought a PowerPoint was the best way to ask?” 

“Well, I felt you’d be more inclined to consider it if you knew I spent time on a presentation.” 

“That’s true.” You say, chuckling at the memory of your first friendly encounter. You take the food back from him. “Well, show me what you got.” 

“Okay, Reason #1, You love me.” You laugh, nodding as he goes to the next slide. “And I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Spencer…” You said, swooning slightly. 

“#2, I’d be a great husband.” 

“That’s a debatable fact.” You say, chuckling. 

“Have I given you any indication that I wouldn’t be?” 

You smile and shake your head no. 

“#3, I have a ring, a very pretty one that Garcia helped me pick out and it’s yours if you say yes.” Spencer says, that makes you laugh loudly because of course she did, no wonder she’d been acting weird at work for the past couple of weeks. “In all seriousness… Y/N, I love you and I feel like I’ve loved since you brought me to this coffee shop more than a year ago and asked me to make the best decision of my life. You are my best friend, the mother of my child… I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to share my life with. So..” Spencer takes that moment to stand to kneel down on one knee. “Will you marry me, Please.” 

The tears that had been threatening to fall since he started were coming in full swing now. You nodded fast. “Yes! 1000% yes!” You exclaim. Spencer takes that moment to slide the ring on to your finger as you hear the faint applause from the bored baristas in the empty coffee shop who have gotten to know you both over the years. Spencer sweeps you into a deep kiss, that you can barely stop smiling for. You pull apart when you hear Genevieve start to babble in her highchair, reaching for the two of you. 

“Oh, come here, Bug.” You say, going to pick her up, kissing the top of her head. “Can’t stand not being the center of attention, huh?” 

“Well, she is her mother’s daughter.” Spencer chuckles when you level a bored expression at him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He says, starting to pack Genevieve’s stuff back into her stroller. “What movie are we watching tonight?” He asks. 

You think for a second. “How’s Wall-E sound?” 

Spencer smiles when he hears you say the first movie you watched together. That was the night he knew for sure that he was going to marry you someday. You didn’t know it yet, but Spencer did, and he was rarely wrong. 

“Sounds wonderful, baby.” He smiles, as the three of you walk out of the coffee shop, a newly cemented family.

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[pastelwitchling]

“What do you mean he’s been hit with truth serum?” Michael demanded.

Alex giggled from where he had his head rested against the wall, his half-lidded eyes on Michael. “You’re pretty.”

Michael and Liz stared at him a moment, Michael’s cheeks warm.

“Exactly what it sounds like!” Liz said urgently. “Look, it’s all my fault, I – I got in an argument with Max, I wasn’t paying attention, the solution was about to erupt, Alex jumped in to protect me, and he got hit!”

“It’s not so bad,” Alex said from the corner. He pointed at Michael’s open flannel. “I love it when you wear your shirt like that, by the way. Unbutton another one.” He straightened. “Never mind, don’t. I don’t want anybody staring at you but me.”

Michael exhaled slowly. He looked to Liz whose eyes were wide, her cheeks pink. “Why were you making truth serum?!” he snapped.

“It was unfinished!” she argued. “It wasn’t supposed to be a truth serum!”

“I like the way you smell,” Alex told her dreamily. “Makes me feel safe. Well, it did, until you played favorites and encouraged Maria to go after the only man I’ve ever loved. Did you ever consider what that would do to me? It killed me every second, by the way.” He perked up. “Oh! I left my copy of Little Women under the sofa! I’ll have to remember to check when I get back.”

Neither Liz nor Michael said anything in response to that for a long time. Michael felt an uncomfortable twitch in his spine at the mention of his ex, and Liz looked no more pleased with herself for her mistakes.

Michael shut his eyes. “Why am I here? Don’t you think I’m the last person who should be around Alex when he’s spilling his guts out?”

“You’re the only other person who can help me find an antidote to this!”

“Aww,” Alex laughed. “You’re both so scared of the truth. I don’t think my feelings have been any secret.” He pointed at Michael. “I’m in love with you –” He looked to Liz “—I’m disappointed with you.” He shrugged. “And I can’t even look at Maria anymore without wanting to scream and cry my eyes out.” He slumped. “I’m hungry. I don’t eat nearly enough.”

“I can’t –” Michael shook his head. “I can’t do this, I can’t be here.”

He turned to the door, made it just to the handle, and Alex called out in a singsong voice, “Michael’s running away again!”

Michael stopped, his whole body tense and on edge. He turned slowly to Alex to find him staring blatantly back at him, his smile intact, but his eyes glassy, as if a small part of him was still conscious of what was going on.

“I don’t run away from you, Alex,” he said.

Liz held a hand up. “Michael, he’s under a serum’s effects, he doesn’t know what he’s –”

“Don’t you?” Alex whispered, but his sad tone and teasing smile were enough to blanket the lab with a heavy silence. “Never seems to matter what’s happening to me, how hurt I am, how scared or lost or confused . . . you’ve never stayed for any of it.”

He stretched out his arms and legs. “Sure wish it had been that easy for me to abandon you like that.” He laughed. “But no, I kept coming back. Kept hoping. Then you’d make some joke about me –” he faltered, like a lump in his throat constricted his words, “being good for nothing but sex, and I’d feel like an idiot every time.”

Michael took a step towards him. “I . . .” he breathed. “Alex, no, I never meant any of that.”

Alex hummed. “I know, Guerin. I always know.” His smile turned small as he looked down at his lap. “But you were nice to her. I was always jealous of that. That you were so nice to her, but you were fine with making me feel . . .”

Liz was watching with furrowed brows, her own eyes glassy at the exchange. Michael suspected she only now was realizing the damage she’d done when she’d – as Alex had put it – played favorites.

“Feel what?”

Alex smiled like it was all a fun, tragic joke. “Unwanted.” His eyes turned dazed, his smile small. “I’m so tired. I don’t sleep nearly enough.”

Without another word to either of them, Alex curled up against the wall and closed his eyes. A moment later, he was breathing deeply.

Liz let out a shaking breath and sniffed, wiping her cheek. Michael watched as Alex slept, then turned to the table, pulling off his jacket. He levitated it over to gently cover Alex.

“What’re you doing?” Liz asked as he pulled out a few beakers.

“Working on an antidote,” Michael said. His voice was distant and dark to his own ears. “Before he wakes up.”

 Michael worked fast when he was pissed off, and he was pissed off, but only at himself. All this time, Alex had spent it with his shattered heart in his hands, and Michael had never noticed. Or maybe he had. That was the most frightening thought of all. That he’d known how miserable and tired Alex had been, and left him alone to deal with it.

He finished an antidote in less than an hour.

“Here,” he handed the spray to Liz, watching Alex. “You do it.”

“Right,” Liz took the antidote glumly, like a child being told to clean up their own mess. Either that, or she, like Michael, was still reeling from Alex’s honesty.

She sprayed several times around his face, let him inhale the odorless, colorless serum, and he woke with a flutter of his eyes. He blinked up at Liz who must’ve looked like she was about to attack him with perfume, and his brows furrowed as he pushed himself off the wall.

He looked around a moment, seemed to realize Michael was there, and his frown deepened.

“Did I miss something?”

“Quick,” she said. “Tell a lie!”

“Uh – about what? What do you mean?”

Liz glanced back at Michael, then took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Are you mad at me for talking to Maria about Michael?”

Alex blinked, startled, then his expression cooled and his impartial laugh slotted right into place. “What? No, Liz, what’s going on?”

Michael’s jaw clenched. “He can lie.”

Liz’s shoulders slumped, but guilt accompanied the relief in her frown. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s shoulders and hugged him tightly. “He’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I can lie?” Alex frowned, and Michael could see the gears in his head turning. “I couldn’t before?”

Liz pulled back. “You really don’t remember? My truth serum exploded, and you were hit!”

A moment of panic crossed his face before it was gone, so quickly that anyone that didn’t pay attention to every single thing Alex did would’ve missed it. But Michael did pay attention, so he hadn’t.

“It was truth serum?” he asked, then, “Why the hell were you making truth serum?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be truth serum!” she defended, exasperated.

“Liz,” Michael said darkly, “give us a minute.”

Liz looked between Michael and Alex for a moment before she silently nodded, brushed back Alex’s bangs, and left the lab.

Michael and Alex sat alone in the silence for a long time before Alex said, “I talked, huh?”

Michael shook his head. “Yeah,” he said. “You finally did.”

Alex met his anger with a cool glare. “I came to your trailer to talk, remember? You never showed up. I offered my help, you told me you liked someone else.”

“Stop it,” Michael growled.

“That’s what happened,” Alex reminded him. “What did you want me to do, Guerin? You went after her, you didn’t come after me.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

“Stop talking like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve given up on us!”

Alex stood, his expression darkening. “I wasn’t the one that fell in love with someone else, Guerin.”

He turned to leave, but Michael grabbed his wrist and turned him around so that he stumbled right into his chest. Michael wrapped his arms around Alex’s body, keeping him pressed against him.

“Neither was I,” he whispered against Alex’s lips.

Alex, startled, searched Michael’s face.

Michael’s eyes burned and his grip on Alex tightened. “I didn’t want to be unwanted.” Alex faltered. “I knew you wanted to have me,” he shook his head, “not that you wanted to keep me.”

Alex’s frown deepened and he sighed, turning his face away before Michael gripped his chin and pulled him in for a kiss. Alex gasped against his lips, shocked, but Michael couldn’t get his expression out of his mind; when he’d told the truth of how hurt he was, the way he’d smiled because he’d believed no one would care, and knew he had to be fine with that. Even under a serum’s effects, he’d warned himself not to show too much emotion, not to break in front of the people he no longer trusted.

It made Michael pull him in deeper, kiss him harder, tilt his head and taste Alex’s tongue and nearly tear off his shirt. He wanted to touch every inch of Alex’s skin, to whisper his love for him against his lips, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his arms, his legs. All this time, he hadn’t realized just how badly he’d been suffocating, and now, with Alex back in his arms, he felt right. He felt like he could finally breathe.

Alex pulled away. “Stop,” he panted, his hands curled to fists on Michael’s chest. “Stop, you can’t just . . . I don’t trust you anymore, Guerin.”

A lump lodged in Michael’s throat, and he held Alex tighter, holding him close enough that nothing could’ve fit between them.

“I’ll earn it back,” he promised, pressing his forehead to Alex’s to keep them close. “I’ll earn your trust back, I swear.” He swallowed. “I want to be good for you, Alex.”

Alex tensed, doubt flickering in his eyes. Michael cupped his jaw and held on tight, his thumb brushing Alex’s cheek.

He growled, “I know I can be good for you.”

Alex’s lower lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears. He whispered, “And what if I’m not good enough for you?”

Michael scoffed, unable to help the grin pulling at his lips as he closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of Alex against him.

“No one’s better for me than you.”

*** Shrug.

[murderousginger]

Wear You Like A Halo

Peaky blinders 

Cops & Robbers Part 4

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Steamy kisses. They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 6.5k

Tagging: @imagine-that-100 @blinder-secrets @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me @theshelbyclan @peakascum

In true Tommy fashion, the kiss was never spoken about once it happened. It had been a short, soft kiss. One that could have meant anything, and the possibilities left you more conflicted than the goodbye kiss to John ever could have. 

In the weeks after that night, everything had stayed relatively the same. The Shelby's still came in and conducted business or drank. You still helped Harry keep the bar in order. And you and the Shelby men still were on good terms. John had been distant for a time after that night; he had slowly started coming back around and you both were trying to find the new line that the friendship needed to be built around.

One day when you had come into The Garrison early, you were taking care of the few day customers while Harry worked on paperwork when Finn came running in. 

"(Y/N)," he said, bounding up to the bar, "I was hoping you were here."

"'lo Finny," you said with a smile. "I came in a bit early so Harry could catch up. Why were you looking for me?"

"Tommy asked me to get you and Lizzie," he said, looking nervously at the patrons at the bar. "He said 'go get (Y/N) and Lizzie Stark, it's her off day from being secretary, and take them both to my office' and that's what I'm after." 

"Oh did he?" You ask with a raised brow. "I suppose what King Tommy wants, King Tommy gets. Let me go talk to Harry and we'll be on the way."

Finn nods excitedly and you walk to the back. 

"Harry?" You called as you walked to the back office. "You got a moment?"

"Sure, sure," the man waved you in. "What do you want? I was almost done. One of the regulars driving you mad?"

"No, not that," you said as you leaned in the doorway of the small office and rubbed your arm. "Tommy has Finn at the bar, said he's here to fetch me to bring to the office for something."

Harry's eyes shot up from the paperwork and his brows knitted together. He licked his lips, dropping the pen and taking a deep breath before speaking. 

"(Y/N)," he started kindly. "I know you've known the Shelby's since you were children. I know," he paused, looking for words, "I know you care for them. And them for you, as far as I've seen. But be careful."

You tried to give him a confident smile, but it mostly felt forced.

"I'm careful, Harry," you said. "I've done plenty you wouldn't approve of before working here. I'll do plenty you don't approve of now."

"I have no doubt, little bird," he chuckled. "But you can only play with fire so long before something burns."

You nodded. 

"I know," you said quietly. Harry gave you a long look before smiling and nodding toward the hallway.

"Off with you," he said gruffly. "Tell the regulars I'll be out in a moment. Tell them not to help themselves in the meantime."

You smiled and nodded again, walking back to the bar.

"I'll be back," you called behind you. 

When you got back to the room, you told the regulars to wait on Harry in the back, and you gathered your coat from behind the bar.

"Let's go, Finny," you said, and smiled as he raised his arm for you to take. 

You let him lead you to the vehicle and open the door for you. You crawled in as he rounded the car and got in the driver's seat. Finn turned the ignition over and off to Lizzie's apartment down the road you went. 

Finn left you in the car to fetch Lizzie. You decided to scoot to the middle of the bench and straddle the stick shift to allow her the passenger seat so no one was forced to sit alone in the back. A few moments later you saw Finn escorted Lizzie out of the building and to the car. 

"(Y/N)," Lizzie said stiffly. "Do you know why Tommy wants us on my day off?"

"No clue, Lizzie," you said as Finn got in on the other side of you. "But I'm sure it's not regular business." 

Finn stiffened beside you and hesitated, but you weren't sure why. He started the vehicle and apprehensively shifted into first gear. 

"Well obviously he didn't want me for regular work if he's sending Finn," Lizzie said. "But why is he asking for us both?"

Finn drove slower than usual down the road, and you weren't sure how long it would take to get to the office at the current speed. 

"I wasn't told nothin'," Finn said, still putting slowly down the road. "I already said so."

"Yes, Finn," Lizzie said sharply. "We know your brother doesn't tell you anything. I was asking if (Y/N) knows."

You shrug, both shoulders touching the other two. 

"I didn't know I was asked for until Finny interrupted my work at The Garrison," you said, still noticing the Ford hadn't picked up speed since you left Lizzie's apartment.

"Oh for fucks sake, Finny," you said exasperated. "Push the clutch in, will you." 

You grabbed the shift between your legs and shoved it into second gear. 

"Yes ma'am," Finn gulped as he did what he was told and the Ford picked up speed. 

Lizzie chuckled. 

"Looks like you have a virgin Shelby after you as well," she said.

"Shut up, Liz," You said angrily. "He's a boy. Not everyone is ready to look for your services."

Lizzie quieted and held a scowl.

"Now can you be a man and shift or do we need to pull over and I drive?" You growled at Finn. 

"I'll drive," he said, edge in his voice. "Tommy told me to pick you up. He won't take kindly to you driving me back."

"I highly doubt Tommy would scold you if I took over the car," you said. "But I won't sit in first gear the entire trip. So grow up."

"Yes ma'am," Finn murmured, hesitantly grabbing the shift between your legs and moving into third gear. 

The rest of the drive took much less time.

When you arrived, Finn opened the passenger door and helped you both out of the car before leading you up to Tommy's office. He knocked on  the closed door twice before Tommy called out "come in" in a rough voice. Finn opened the door for you both and let you walk to the chairs in front of Tommy's desk before closing the door behind you. 

"Sit down, ladies," Tommy said, head buried in paperwork and glasses on his face. "Let me look this one paper over and then I'll be right with you."

You both apprehensively took the two chairs and sat stiffly, eyeing Tommy. As you waited in the silence, you couldn't help but look Tommy over. 

Tommy's brow were tightly knotted as he read whatever paper was in front of him. His glasses barely hung on his nose, and his right hand held a cigarette that had been burning without his breath for quite some time. When he finally looked up, he looked at you first. His face relaxed as he noticed the intensity of your stare, but all emotion was soon hidden behind a blank face. 

"What do you want, Tommy?" You said, breaking the silence. "Why are we here?"

"Right," Tommy said, clearing his throat as he leaned back in his chair and looked between you both. "We have business, and we need" he paused, looking for the word, "decorations, with us. Distractions." 

"You need women so they don't look so hard at you," Lizzie said blankly. Tommy nodded. 

"Exactly," he said. "But we want women we can trust. They know Polly and Ada are family, and this isn't a family event. We need you two to come along and give them something to look at." 

"I'm not a whore, Tommy," you said angrily. "I'll not be traded."

"No trading," Tommy said, arms open as he tried placating your fears. "And no whoring. We just need you to pretend to be our girls while we talk." 

"You need us to pretend to be your whores," Lizzie said with agitation. "So they'll be looking at us and you won't be asked to be with theirs."

Tommy nodded. Lizzie pursed her lips and gave a short nod. You squinted at Tommy. 

"Can't you just bring whores for that?" You said.

"I don't trust whores," he said agitated. "I trust you. Now will you do it or do you need to keep fighting me?"

"It's not like you're really asking us," you snap back. 

"You're right," he said. "I'm not. We'll get you a nice set of dresses and pick you up at 7 tomorrow night. I'll tell Harry you're off, (Y/N)."

"Fine," you both mutter. Tommy's blue eyes looked sharply between you both before he nodded more to himself than to you. 

"Dress not so low on my back, please," you say softly, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"Right," he said, jaw clenching. "Be off with you. We'll see you tomorrow. Someone will deliver the dresses before then."

You both stood up and numbly walked out of the office. Once out of the building, you both paused, seeing Finn had already left with the car. Lizzie lit a cigarette.

"I see how he watches you," she said through her exhale of smoke. "But I'm the one he visits at night when his head is too loud."

"He still pays you, though, doesn't he?" You said quietly. "He pays you because it keeps you distant. It writes you off. He might go to you, but it's a transaction."

Lizzie froze, anger bubbled just beneath the surface. She dropped her cigarette, stomping it out and stormed off toward her apartment. 

----

You were nervous through the night and into the next day. You didn't know exactly what you would be doing that night other than being pretty and quiet. 

Isaiah delivered the dress and matching heels around lunch. You tried to offer him tea or a snack but he waved you off.

"Nah," he said. "I've got more running to do," he walked backwards to the road. "But have a good time at the party. I peeked at the dress." 

He sent a wink that left your mouth agape as he ran down the road to finish doing whatever errands were given to him. You hugged the box to you and disappeared back into your home. 

You looked closely at the blue box before you finally had the courage to open it. You unwrapped the paper within and gasped at the sleek silky slip dress below. It was the same blue as the cotton one you had bought that was now your favorite. It had beading along the shoulders and heels dyed and beaded to match. You ran your hands over it lovingly, knowing the price they must have paid was far higher than you could ever afford. 

You got ready over the next few hours, curling your hair, putting it up off of your shoulders, putting on lipstick and getting dressed. You had found a small matching clutch in the box that you decided to place your lipstick and a few dollars in as you waited. You hesitated, looking at your small knife before slipping it into the bag as well.

Shortly after seven you heard a car park outside. You decided not to wait for them to come and get you, and instead stepped out of your home and locked the door behind you. 

"We were coming to get you, like a lady, (Y/N)," Arthur called from the street waving his hands in the air as he walked to you. 

"John and Tommy have never treated me like a lady in my life," you said, "no reason to start today."

"That's why I was comin' for ya," Arthur said as he gave you a side hug. "You look perfect. Lizzie's already in the back seat. In you go." 

He opened the door and ushered you in. You slid in, seeing Lizzie against the other door looking out the window and John in the middle seat giving you a wicked grin. Tommy was sitting in the passenger seat in front of you. Arthur shut your door as you settled in and he moved around the vehicle to the driver's seat. 

"Hello hello," you said, nudging John and looking between everyone. "Nice night for criminal activity, eh?"

"Don't worry about the business part," Tommy said. "Just enjoy the party and look pretty."

"And keep my mouth shut?" You said, leaning back.

"And keep your mouth shut," Tommy answered.

"And what's to happen if I don't?" You challenged.

"Do you ever shut up?" Lizzie said as she looked at you. You looked over John and glared at Lizzie.

"We all don't have history of being paid to be discrete, Liz," you shot back. "Can't help your price is so low."

"Enough," Tommy said loudly. "We're all going to this party and you both will be quiet. We'll do our dealings and be out without a problem. I chose you because you're loyal and can handle business. Don't make me regret it."

The car was silent. After a few moments, Arthur cleared his throat and asked Tommy a question, breaking the hold on the car. 

John looked to you, nudging your shoulder.

"You look good in that color," he said in a quiet voice as the conversation continued in the front seat. You smiled. 

"I see you're still trying your charms," you said.

"No harm in it," he said, pulling a pick from his pocket and placing it in his mouth. "We've been both called to business."

"Why didn't you have your wife come?" You asked. "She's got to be more trustworthy than --" 

You nodded to Lizzie, who was looking out the window. John's eyes softened.

"Can't be having both my favorite girls in danger at once," he said. "And someone's got to look after the children when I'm gone."

You wanted to melt, to feel the bloom of warmth that wanted to expand in your chest, but all you felt was cold.

"You'll never be gone, John," you said, nudging his shoulder with a sad smile. "Shelby's are too stubborn to die. You'll be a dirty old man making all the girls uncomfortable with your wink."

John gave a brief smile and rolled the pick in his mouth from one end of his smile to the other with his tongue. 

"Maybe," he said noncommittally. "Until then, I'm here. With you. Might as well enjoy it."

You smiled and squeezed his arm before resting your head on his shoulder. You looked out the window to see Tommy's eyes meet yours in the side mirror. His face was perfectly blank but his eyes held a storm that you weren't sure of the cause. 

----

The car arrived at a gorgeous large home surrounded by land just as dusk darkened the sky. 

"A party?" Lizzie said. "We're dressed for London and going to a party."

"It's a good cover for business," Arthur said. "Little fun, little business, and dirt on those that stay the night."

"Oh," she said. "That sort of party." 

You felt Lizzie shift uncomfortably in her seat and immediately felt on edge. You looked over and finally noticed her dress was very similar to yours, only a mustard color with brown beading. She picked at the beading near the bottom of her dress.

"We'll take care of ye," Arthur rumbled. "Stick close and smile and it'll be over before you know it."

"Who's to be matched with who?" You asked and fidgeted with your clutch. The car stopped in front of the house and a boy came to take the keys from Arthur.

Your question was ignored and the doors opened for you and Lizzie. You stepped out in your heels, feeling the gravel crunch below your feet. The game was on. 

John exited the car on Lizzie's side and took her arm to escort her in. You nervously looked back to the house and felt a touch on your shoulder. 

Tommy had lit a cigarette and was taking a long inhale of the smoke as his hand was outreached for yours. He nodded as the smoke rose from his mouth to his nose, disappearing back into his lungs. You smiled and took his arm, stilling yourself for a moment in preparation. 

You and Tommy led the pack through the doors, shortly followed by John and Lizzie, and Arthur trailing behind. The house was massive and bright. Men talked in groups and women similarly dressed to you were peppered in. Dark corners held couples kissing and drugs. You watched people closely as Tommy led you to a side den and what you could guess was the host. 

"Ah yes!" Tommy exclaimed, mentioning the man's name, but you were so nervous you immediately forgot it. "Beautiful home. Thank you for having us."

"Tommy Shelby," the man said cooly, leaning against a fireplace. "Thank you. I see you brought your brothers."

The man looked to be middle aged with a mustache. His brown suit was nice and he held a glass of liquor on ice. He looked intently at you and Lizzie, up and down like he was looking over a horse at the market.

"And who are these beauties?" He said as he clicked his tongue. You did your best not to drop your smile. "I told you I would provide the entertainment tonight."

"You did," Tommy said, "but we Shelby's prefer a bit of Birmingham with us wherever we go."

"I see why," the man said, holding his hand out to take yours. You let him. 

"(Y/N), Pleasure. And this," you said, deflecting his eyes off of you, "is Lizzie."

Lizzie murmured her pleasantries and smiled and Tommy cleared his throat, bringing the man's attention back to him. 

"Right," he said. "So shall we have a drink and talk business, or talk business and have a drink?"

"Tommy," the man jested. "Always to the point. I have a few other matters to attend to, so best you men get these ladies a drink before. Enjoy the party. I'll be back shortly."

The man walked away and your group was left to wander the party. Tommy touched the small of your back and led you out of the den. Your stomach was butterflies when you walked into a larger living area with multiple large ornate couches. He motioned for you to sit on the couch and John ushered Lizzie beside you. 

"We'll find you two drinks," John said as he looked around the crowded room. "Stay here."

"You need three men to get five drinks?" Lizzie said dryly. "Sounds like a Shelby."

Tommy rolled his eyes before looking down at you both perched on the couch.

"We'll be back shortly," he said. "Just stay here and you'll get your drink."

"Gin," Lizzie sounded.

"Whiskey," you said after.

"Always whiskey," John said with a wink before the brothers left to find the alcohol. 

"They're scoping out the layout," you said as you watched the crowd, "It's as much the alcohol and girl watching as it is the job."

Lizzie opened her mouth and then clamped it shut as she saw a man sit on the arm of the couch next to you. She smiled and touched your hand.

"I think I'm going to find my own drink," she said, looking from your eyes to behind you with a tight smile. You watched her leave the same direction the boys did and jumped when you realized a man was sitting on the arm of your seat, looking down at you like a predator. 

"May I help you?" You said, leaning away from the man to look up at him. 

"You shouldn't have been left alone," he said as he fingered the dark beading of your dress on your shoulder. "I can get you a drink. Are you a gin or vodka girl?"

"No thank you," you said, scooting into the middle of the couch to get away from his reach. "I have a drink on its way."

"Oh now," he said as he slipped onto the seat where you had sat. "No need not to be friendly."

His hand slid onto your thigh and played with the dress at your knee. Your teeth grinded together as you looked up at his smirk.

"I said no," you said. "Do you need to hear it again?"

The man's smirk slowly turned into a look of confusion as he looked down at your hand holding a small knife against his crotch. No one around you seemed to have noticed your interaction.

"(Y/N) I've got your whiskey--" John said as he barreled toward the couch holding drinks in both hands. He stopped directly in front of you when he noticed the man. His eyes grew wide as he looked down at your hand holding the knife before he gave you a careful look.

"Thank you, John," you said as you slid your knife back into your bag and reached for your drink. "I was just telling this man--"

"Roy," the man supplied in a daze. His eyes moved between you and John, who smirked down at you as he handed you your drink. Roy's hand slowly moved off of your leg and onto his own lap.

"Roy," you said, "that I already had someone to get me a drink." 

Tommy and Arthur walked up behind John before Arthur passed him to sit beside you and Tommy looked at Roy over John's shoulder. 

"Where's Liz off to?" Arthur said, his arm slung over your shoulder as he took a drink. 

"She told me she was getting her own drink," you said evenly, meeting Tommy's hard eyes as he soaked in the situation. 

"Right," Roy said, seemingly snapped out of his daze. "It looks like you have proper company. Nice to meet you."

"John," Tommy said, eyeing Roy's departure, "Go find Lizzie." 

"Right," John said with a grin. "Let's hope she's not threatening to cut off a man's balls, too."

Arthur laughed. Tommy stiffly took the seat beside you, both hands holding drinks. You sipped yours and returned to watching the crowd, all too aware of how close you were next to Tommy. 

Tommy quickly downed the first drink before putting the empty glass near the foot of the couch. You looked over at him curiously.

"How were you to cut off balls without a knife, (Y/N)?" He rumbled, drinking from his second glass slower.

"Who says I didn't have a knife, Tommy?" You said with a raised brow.

He hummed, running the glass across his lip before taking another drink. Arthur finished his drink and stood up to get another. 

You had gotten used to an arm around you and shifted in your seat, growing anxious without the weight to ground you. You shook as you looked around, untethered while the rest of the party buzzed around you. A couple took the other side of the couch and it only unnerved you more.

You looked over at Tommy, who watched you silently, taking in your every movement with his cool blue eyes. You watched him claim a cigarette and matches from his pocket with his empty hand and give you his matches. He looked at you expectantly but didn't say anything.

You wrapped your fingers around a match and pressed it against the box, sparking a flame and letting it lazily caress the cigarette between his lips until it caught fire. 

Tommy leaned into the corner of the couch with his drink in hand and his other arm on your shoulder, pulling you into his chest until you were draped over him. He reached around you, pulled the cigarette from his mouth, and blew the smoke above you both. 

"You're shaking," he whispered into your ear. "Relax. And for fucks sake behave from now on." 

You found yourself melting into his side, grateful for the touch. You people watched with him in comfortable silence until John returned with Lizzie on his arm and Arthur and the host in tow.

"Tommy!" The man said cheerfully, his cheeks much redder than before. "I found your entourage, but it looks like you snuck away for a moment's silence. I'm ready to talk business in my office if you are."

"I'm always ready for business," Tommy said, giving you a small squeeze before ushering you both to your feet. 

"Great!" The man said. "Follow me."

The man turned to lead and Tommy rested his hand on your hip, pulling you beside him to follow. Lizzie scowled and burrowed into John's side as you passed. You slowed a step but Tommy's hand pressed into your hip to urge you forward at his side.

The man led your group to a study before and sat behind a large wooden desk. He pulled a decanter of alcohol from a cabinet, pulling out four glasses with it. He waved to the three seats in front of him. 

Your boys took the three wing-back seats and Lizzie sat upon the arm of Tommy's seat in the middle. You decided to look at the library of books along the wall. 

You heard them all talk, but you mostly paid attention to tone rather than words. You ran your fingers along the books and noticed most of them sounded scientific or mathematical in nature. A lot had to do with statistics. You froze as the tone shifted in the room. You looked over your shoulder with your hand still on the bookcase when you heard John call your name.

"Come sit over here, little bird," John said, using Harry's nickname for you, and patted his knee with a smirk. "You're making our friend nervous."

You smiled shyly and walked over to John before pausing above him. He patted a knee of his splayed legs again. You gritted your teeth before sitting on his right knee, your legs in between his and your hip against the arm of the chair. His hand wrapped around your waist and rested on your thigh as the conversation started again. 

You tried to focus on the conversation about horses in front of you, but you felt John's hand loosen it's hold on your leg and move to play with the beading at your left shoulder. You turned slightly and shot him a look to stop but his eyes were intent on your skin. 

John's brows furrowed and he tried moving the beading off your shoulder. You shrugged him off and whispered a hiss at him. He stopped for a moment and nodded for you to look ahead. You paused before doing so, feeling him lean forward behind you. 

You froze in place when John slid his hand under the strap and it fell down your shoulder. You eyed Arthur and Tommy as John nuzzled your bare shoulder and pressed his lips to it. Arthur ran his tongue over his teeth in his closed mouth as he watched John. Lizzie perched on Tommy's chair smirking at you. 

Tommy's jaw ticked but he didn't look over to you two once in his conversation. You slowly pressed your heel into John's instep until he hissed against your skin and moved the strap back onto your shoulder. 

You closed your eyes, knowing full well what he discovered. Your tattoo. Even when you had gone swimming with him in the dead of night, clothes thrown to the edge of the pond, you had always been careful not to show him your shoulder. You hadn't worn low back dresses in years. You were sure people thought it was for modesty, but in truth you didn't want to show the world that you had a tattoo. You loved it, but it was for you and you knew how society treated tattooed men. You didn't want to be seen as a freak for your own.

You sat still as stone for the rest of the meeting, and John returned his hand to your lap. You could feel his cocky grin behind you and you fumed at the blatant disrespect of boundaries.

When the business wrapped up, the men all shook hands and said their pleasantries and you all were ushered back into the party. When the host drifted off, you twisted in John's arms and smacked this chest.

"Don't you ever touch me like that again," you growled, trying to keep your voice down. Tommy and Arthur moved between you two and glared at you both. 

"What was that?" Arthur said and glared at John. 

"Our (Y/N)'s marked," John said, licking his lips as he eyed you. "And it's not fresh. How many more surprises are you hiding under there?"

"Marked?" Arthur said, looking at you in confusion. "Like a tattoo? How'd you find someone to give you that?"

"You can find them," you said shortly. "This isn't about my tattoos, this is about you" you jabbed your finger at John's chest, "not respecting me. You have a wife."

"More than one, eh? The only way to get a good look at your shoulder was to play into what I'm seen as, innit?" John said and laughed. "No one asks when ol' John boy gets frisky. They continue on with business, and now I know your secret."

John's eyes sparkled as you pressed your lips into a thin line. Tommy watched you two closely for a moment before he stepped directly in between you. 

"Right," he said, causing you both to step back to give him the space between. "We've done what we came here for. I would have said let's enjoy the party but no one can fucking behave long enough. We're done here, let's go home."

Lizzie laughed and Tommy raised a finger at her.

"You're not innocent, Liz," Tommy said, glaring at her. "Now let's get the fuck out of here."

You all followed Tommy out of the house like scolded children. A boy brought the car around and you all went back to the seats you had before. 

The car was quiet. John was all too happy with himself beside you; Arthur looked bothered but confused as he drove and Tommy watched you too closely through the side window as you looked out into the dark.

"(Y/N)," Tommy said, breaking the silence as the car turned into the road from the long driveway, "what is your tattoo of?"

"It's not a branding or an allegiance, Tommy," you said combatively, hugging yourself. "I wanted it. Thought it was pretty. It's only meant for me."

"And what is it?" Tommy pressed, growing agitated. You glared at him through the side mirror.

"That's between me and whoever falls in my bed, innit?" You shot back. 

"And me," John said teasingly. "Do I get to fall in your bed tonight, (Y/N), or are we still worried about Esme?"

You elbowed him hard in the ribs and he doubled as he clutched his side. 

"And here I thought you were a good girl with bad company," Arthur said. "Turns out you have some secrets, don't you little bird?"

"A knife and a tattoo all in one night," Tommy mused. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Not my fault you got more than you bargained for," you said. "Isn't King Tommy supposed to have us all figured out, like? With his big brain?"

You stared defiantly at Tommy and he regarded you back. The ride was a quiet standoff between you and him the rest of the way. Lizzie scowled out the window the entire ride. When Arthur dropped her off she left the car without a word and went into her apartment without looking back. 

You touched the door handle and opened your mouth to tell them you'd walk home from there when Tommy interrupted.

"Get out, I'll take (Y/N) home myself," Tommy said. 

Arthur and John both started to protest. Tommy raised a hand, quieting them.

"I need a talk with our little bird," he said. 

You let go of the handle as if it burned you and shrunk next to John in the back seat. He instinctively wrapped his arm over your shoulder.

"Tommy," Arthur protested. 

"Out," Tommy said again before he opened his door and then yours. 

"Night, John boy," you said softly as you unwrapped yourself from him to get out of the car. 

"You haven't called me that in weeks," he murmured surprised. "Night, (Y/N). You'll be fine. Tommy's just being Tommy." 

John eyes softened and he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. You got out of the car and moved around Tommy to sit in the passenger seat. Tommy closed both doors.

John and Arthur reluctantly got out and moved aside as Tommy sat in the driver's seat. You could see John worrying his lip as they both watched as Tommy turned the ignition and drove you both down the road. 

He drove until the brothers were out of sight, and then took a turn that was opposite of your home.

"I have a hard time placing you, (Y/N)," Tommy said, breaking the silence. "There are times you're strong and about men's business. And in the next moment you're young. Too young."

"Why can't I be both?" You ask.

Tommy didn't answer, instead he looked off into the distance and nodded. 

"Why do you lock us all out of that head of yours?" You asked, knowing you wouldn't get a true answer. You passed a bridge and he slowed and moved to the side of the road and parked.

"I let someone clear out that which needs clearing out," he said stiffly, looking through his pockets for a cigarette. 

"I'm not talking about Lizzie," you said gently. He stilled for a moment before continuing his search for a match. You pulled the matchbox from earlier out of your clutch and lit one and held it out for him.

"Why do you two hate each other?" He asked as he leaned over to light the cigarette and returned his gaze to you as he inhaled the smoke.

"We don't," you said quickly. "Or at least I don't hate her. I think in a way," you said as you blew out the match and fidgeted, "we both know there's only so many spaces for women in the Blinders, and we're not Shelby, so we've only so many places to fit."

"Insightful," Tommy said more to himself than you, "but young."

"I'm not that much younger," you grumble as he opened his door. "John and Ada's age."

"Young enough," he said and stepped out of the car. "Let's sit by the water and talk."

You got out and numbly followed him to the waterside, feeling the cool night air on your skin. Tommy laid his coat down on the bank and motioned for you to sit. You both looked at the water in front of you. 

"You was awful cuddly with John tonight," he said finally. 

"You told us nothin' of what we was doing and I was leaning on my friend to help me," you retorted. "You also saw me put him in place when I thought he was crossing the line--"

"When did you stop trusting me, (Y/N)," Tommy interrupted crossly. "Because most of this night taught me you don't. The knife." 

He scoffed.

"Was used for its purpose when I was left behind," you retorted, turning to him in anger. 

"Could have ruined us," he hissed. 

"Don't dangle me like a prize and I won't have to defend myself," you hissed back. "Maybe I stopped trusting you when King Tommy decided no one was smart enough to know his plans."

"Drop the king bit," he snapped. 

"Or what, Tommy?" You sneered. "You'll teach me my place? What is my place, Tommy, or do you not know yourself?"

"You are the most aggravating girl in bloody Birmingham," he said under his breath.

"Says the biggest git--" 

Tommy's hand swung around and grabbed your jaw forcefully and his whiskey-heavy lips crashed into yours before you could process. His kiss took every bit of air out of your lungs and you fought your head as you kissed him back hungrily. Your tongues fought each other for dominance as his grip on your jaw tightened and pushed you away. 

"What's your tattoo, (Y/N)?" He said testily as he looked you in the eye. 

"What's this, Tommy?" You snapped back defiantly. 

Tommy growled and let go of your chin with a jerk of his hand. 

"So fucking young," he growled. 

He stood up and dusted his pants off. 

"Let's get you home," he said finally. 

You glared up at him, watching him put his blank face on like armor. The window closed for seeing into Tommy Shelby's mind. 

"Sure, Tommy," you scowled. "Let's just pretend this never happened, too, eh? Like you haven't tasted my lips."

You stood up and stomped off to the car, slamming the door closed as you collapsed onto the passenger seat. You crossed your arms and looked over, gathering a terrible idea. 

You slid over and placed the shift between your knees like you had sat when Finn drove the day before. 

Tommy slowly made his way up the waterbank, new cigarette in his mouth as he opened the door and got in. He looked at you with a raised brow when your shoulder bumped with his, but quickly rolled his eyes and started the car. You looked forward out of the window, arms crossed, trying not to look at him as he grabbed the shift and slammed it to first gear. His hand stayed on the shift stick the entire painfully quiet ride to your home. Neither of you would fold. You could feel his eyes on you at times but you refused to look at him.

Tommy parked the car in front of your home and turned it off. You moved to get out of the car but Tommy's warm hand dropped from the shift to your thigh as he blew out a breath in frustration.

"I didn't like it," he growled as you froze. You refused to respond or turn to him.

"You was awful cuddly with John tonight and I didn't like it," he growled with a clenched jaw.

You looked down at your lap as he let go of your leg and you nodded tightly. You slowly leaned to the door and opened it, letting yourself out into the night and into your warm apartment. You didn't breathe until you locked the door behind you.

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (9/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Reader goes to visit tommy at his office (sorry im bad at summaries lol)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Its getting romantic i promise. slowly but surely)

A/n:  sorry this took so long to post and make. Semester is already kicking my ass and making me stress. Hope you enjoy and have a fantastic night. 

It had been a week since you’ve seen Thomas. Since you told him that you wanted to help him. At first, he was very confused. He had expected you to be angry with him or maybe even cry. But you had asked to help assassinate a general with him.

 “Im not getting you involved”

 You ignored him already piecing together what the plan might be, “You wrote down, 23-24 seconds? Your gonna kill this guy in that a mount of time with a guard outside and possible more inside. Plus the guy fought so he’ll know self defense…” You had begun rambling and he was just baffled.

 “Stop.” He told you, you were making some good points but he didn’t want to bring you in this mess. It was his alone that he must face.

 Before the two of you can argue any further, Ada called for him. A phone call she had said. He left you room and never came back. And that was a week ago. You annoyingly asked her everyday and night when he was to return. Now that you knew of the plans and what he was involved in, you couldn’t just let it go. It was dangerous, you knew that. It wasn’t your run of the mill assassination. You don’t know how Thomas was going it on his own or how he even planned on doing it. You had heard the Inspectors words. You know that that held animosity toward the peaky blinder. You can hear in his voice, you felt it in his punches. There was no way that he would give him everything he promised. Thomas needed to be one step ahead of the game. Which you were already conducting for him. You weren’t sleeping as much at night anymore anyway so writing down every scenario and idea you had. And then when that week was done you had it.

 “Ada, Ada, ada.” You ran through the halls calling for her.

 “What is it?” She asks coming out of her sons bedroom, probably fishing tucking him in for the night.

 “Your home in Birmingham, I need the address. Or the pub your brother owns.” You say to her with paper and pencil in hand ready to write down what she tells you.

 “Why?” Ada raises an eyebrow before passing you to go to her own room. You follow her.

 “Ada please.”

 “Why are your trying to see my brother? Didn’t you tell me you weren’t gonna work for him?”

 “I never said that.”

 “What do you like him or something?” Ada fake gags at her own words. Your cheeks warm a little bit but you keep a serious face as you tap the pencil to the paper.

 “Its not like that.”

 She stares at you long and hard. “I called him for help when you never came home. The man rushed over here like you wouldn’t believe.”

 “Ada, an address.”

 “ (y/n) your my friend and hes also my brother I just-“

 “Its just business.” You scoff at her.

 She sighs, “He had someone about a year ago. She was the barmaid at the pub.”

 “I’m not interested in your brothers history.” You can feel your temper rising at this topic jumping she was doing to you. It wasn’t about what she was implying at all. You wanted to help him that was all. You didn’t care about who he was with years ago or even now.

 “You are in his whereabouts.”

 You bite the inside of your cheek. Ada tilts her head and smiles, thinking she’s got you. You turn around ready to leave to your room when she finally spills the address for you.

 ***************************************************************

You stood outside the building where Ada told you was Thomas’s office. You hoped he was there to hear you out. You were going to try to convince him but you had no certainty that you would succeed. You walked inside to find a bunch of woman inside talking.  One was short and very pregnant, the other tall and slender and the last one a bit older but looked the scariest out of all of them. They stopped talking as soon as you entered.

 “Umm excuse me…” You stuttered under their judging glares “Im looking for Thomas Shelby.”

 At first none of them say anything. They continue to stare at you. You meet the older ones eyes. You regret it instantly as you feel a fearful shudder go down your spine. That was a woman you did not want to mess with.

 “What do you need with mr. Shelby?” the tall one asks

 “Look at her Liz, what do you think she’s here for to take your place,” the pregnant one snickers.

“Shut up Esme.” The older one says.

 “I just wanted to talk…if he’s not here….” You trail off.

 A door in the back opens and out walks the devil himself. He glances up expecting only the three woman from himself maybe Michael or Finn and instead finding one more woman amongst the group; you.

 “(Y/n).” he simply states putting his hands in his pockets.

 You don’t say anything observing how awkward and tense you feel with these women.

 The older one speaks up, “Is this how your getting my son out of jail, Tommy. By fucking some whore?” She spats at him venom filling her voice.

 You’re about to speak up for yourself when Thomas opens his mouth first.

 “She’s not a whore, Polly. And Michael will be out soon. (Y/n) step inside..” He gestures for you to go in to his office. You feel very heavy under all their stares as you walk. You remember the name Michael. He was the young boy at the horse auction you had met.

 Thomas closes the door after you. You sit down crossing your legs and lacing your fingers together. Thomas sat next to you on the chair rather than across.

 “You’re looking better.” He says noticing the bruises on your face were fading.

 “Thank you,” You say, “They seemed on edge, is everything all right?”

 “That’s just the way they are.” He says.  

 You don’t say anything and just stare him. You knew he was lying. He chokes under your gaze.

 “Arthur and Michael are in jail. I’m working on it though.” He says swallowing hard. You didn’t press further, you could tell he was having a rough time.

 “I hope it works out.” You say, you clear your throat and adjust your self on the chair, “You shouldn’t kill the general at his house.” You spit out.

 “Jesus Christ Woman.” He says shaking his head.

 “Hear me out.” You plead.

 “Why do you want to do this?”

 You ignore him. Instead you tell him your whole plan. How he could kill two birds with one stone.

 “If your still going to Epsom, you can get Sabini. Maybe not kill him but screw him over. Are you still seeing May?”

 He nods.

 “Good you probably already know she’s got influence on the board. You use that to your advantage when you take Sabini men licenses. You go through her to get your men to what they need. Then the races are yours.”

 “How will we burn their licenses when theres fukin police everywhere.

 “They wont be around when they hear gunshots.”

 He takes a moment letting your words and plan sink in. He rubs his lip.

“We could burn the license’s gonna have to threaten them to take it,” He says muttering to himself, “The general why would he even go there?”

 The two of you talk for hours inside that little office of his. Drinking and talking of the plan. He tried to shut it down multiple times, trying to get you think twice about getting involved. But your mind was already made up. He seemed to like you idea, adding on to yours and even sharing details of the private mission of to you. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he told you the how he had even gotten involved in this political mess.  Soon the drinks clouded both your minds and it was no longer business that you were just talking about.

 “So what you want out of this?”

 “You said the government involved right with this…the prime minister knows what your doing?”

 “Aye…”

 “Then maybe he could get me a new name or-“

 “Why do you need that?” He asks you

 “You can never live just one life…” You smile trying to joke.

 He stares at you intently, “Why did your father lock you up in that place?”

 Your smiles drops, he notices it his eyes softening just a bit. “Sorry, it just came up in my head.”

 “Do  I sound crazy to you or something?”

 “Its just a question ive had in my head for awhile. Its none of my business.” He stares at you deeply.

 “No its not,” You say softly, “I don’t know why he put me there either. Maybe cause he could. I mean I never asked him.”

 “So when you get your new name what are you gonna do? Ride out in the hills, find a husband, push a few kids.”

 You laugh at him, he smiles when the sound hits his ears. “You should smile more, Mr.Shelby.”

 “Tommy. Why do you call me by my last name.”

 “Its too make sure you don’t get comfortable. This,” you gesture to the two of you, “is strictly business.”

 “Why of course. Another drink?” He asks getting up for more whiskey. You nod. Your cheeks were flushed and head dizzy. You were beginning to forget what self control was. You mouth moving before you can even comprehend your next thought.

 “Ada told me how you had someone last year.”

 He stops pouring the drinks to look at you. His back stiff and free hand curled into a fist.

 You continue talking, not looking at him. You weren’t looking at nothing in particular really. “I never had anyone.” His figure relaxes when he looks you more closely. Your body a bit limp, eyes glossy, your speech a bit slurred. You didn’t hold your liquor too good.

 “What else did Ada say?”

 You giggle remembering. Ada thinking you had a thing for her brother. How ludicrous! You glance toward the man, a little smirk resting on his pink lips and head tilting toward you. His blue eyes shining at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite detect. A strange feeling flutters in your stomach. You stop giggling and clear your throat.

“I think I should go. It was good talking to you.” You stand up way too fast. You begin to see black spots all over and the loss of balance.

 ‘Fuck’ you think to yourself, thinking about how your gonna embarrass

yourself falling to the floor.

 But then you feel a pair of hands grab at your arms and spin you around. You fall into Mr.Shelbys chest and for a moment he holds you there. And for that moment you smelled the cologne and whisky on his clothes. You felt the calluses on his rough hands against your soft skin. You felt the slight beating of his heart in his chest. You think if you look up you’ll get to see if the blues in his eyes are as clear as you think em to be.

 But the moment is gone an you both step away from each other, awkwardly. You swaying on your feet trying to regain balance and him hitting the drawer behind him.

 “You shouldn’t go home at this time (Y/N)” he finally says deciding to ignore what just happened. Which was fine with you. You felt very nervous all of a sudden and very, very confused.

 “Come with me.” He says taking you by the crook of your elbow and leading you out of the building. You didn’t want to admit that you liked the way it felt when he had grabbed you and the two of you walked out together, you couldn’t help but think of when and if he would do it again.

Read Pt.10

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034

@ms-dont-care

[alisaspages]

FOOD//Peter Parker

Fem x Peter Parker

TW// eating disorder

Peter and I have been together since we were born. We’ve been dating since we were 13 after ignoring each other two years straight. He quickly confessed his love after I said sorry. We’re now 15. We’re pretty young. He’s spider-man. And I pretty much begged him to have Tony make me a multi-million dollar suit to make me spider-girl. He said no. But then I talked to Steve who got him to make me my own avenger suit. But technically I’m not an avenger yet.

My hero name is Y/H/N and Tony says my suit is made from a special metal but he won’t tell me what type. I let him experiment on me and use me as a lab rat. I came out with super strength, telekinesis, and teleportation. Bucky taught me how to use knives. Today we were all going for dinner as a kind gesture from Tony. Actually Pepper convinced him.

We went as fancy as we could. I showed up in this:

I went inside and the waitress lead me to our table. I really didn’t want to come. I only said yes for Nat and Peter. “Hi guys” I waved. Peter stared in awe and I blushed. They all looked shocked. “You look like a girl?” Tony said confused. Most times they’d seen me I was wearing baggie clothes and beanies. “Uhh thanks?” I said quietly. Peter pat the spot next to him and I sat next to him on the soft padded chair. I kissed him “hi Spider-boy.” He blushed “you look ravishing. Pretty. Gorgeous.” I giggled a little pleased by the comments and excitement “thanks love.” I held his hand under the table.

Lately I hadn’t been eating since I started gaining weight. I didn’t tell anyone. Peter came over one evening and saw me in a crop top and shorts for the first time I quickly covered myself up and he turned away “sorry. Go ahead and change I’ll wait.” Was all he said squeezing his eyes shut at the wall. He made me dinner the day after that. I gave it to my dogs while he wasn’t looking and I felt so bad.

First the appetizers came. It was nachos, I glanced at it then looked at my feet. “Y/N have some.” Steve said kindly. I shook my head “I’m gonna save myself for the main course. Thanks though.” He nodded and the waitress pulled out her notepad the second time since we’d arrived “what would you like to drink?” She asked looking at me first. I let out a loud sigh “uhhh.. water.” Peter looked at me with concern and whispered “you okay? Usually you eat a lot and order a lot of soda?” I nodded “just tired. Sorry babe.” My eyelids were heavy and usually I’d drink a monster to help at this time but I couldn’t. “Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault. I kept you up all night building my legos with Ned.” I shrugged “it’s okay.” I said kissing his cheek. When we looked back up it was his turn “uhhh coke?” The waitress nodded and was gone within seconds. My stomach grumbled and I tensed knowing Peter heard it. “C’mon love. Eat.” I shook my head “no it’s not that. Yesterday my mom made something absolutely gross and my stomach kind of hurts.” I felt awful lying to him. But I had to stay perfect for him. I was desperate to have Natashas body. Wandas. Even peppers. I would take anyone’s body over mine. I have stretch marks on my thighs, I’m over the average weight for my age, I have a heat allergy, and I’m very short. The list goes on forever. Not to mention the acne.

After ordering our main courses which mine was just a salad, Steve and Natasha looked at me funny “you love this restaurant? You love steak!” Steve said in a confused tone “Yeah… what’s wrong? You seem off.” By this point I wasn’t seeing straight. I missed going to the gym today so that I wouldn’t look so pale. It’s been at least a week. This was bound to happen sooner or later. “Yeah. Just my mom made this terrible meatloaf yesterday. I’m still recovering.” What I didn’t know was aunt May would be coming. She sent food home for me and my mom and I just put it in the fridge. She came in “Hey guys. Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find my dress.” I choked on my water and coughed “sorry. Hi aunt May.” She waved “how was the food last night?” I shrugged drowsily “I ate my mom’s meatloaf. Sorry May.” She rose a brow “I thought that was for tomorrow?” Fuck. I shook my head “she changed her mind.” May nodded and I rested my head on Peters shoulder. Our food came and May ordered. I poked and prodded at my food and Natasha sighed loudly “okay I’ve seen enough why aren’t you eating?” I shrugged “I’m not feeling well.” She rolled her eyes “Y/N I know you better than you know yourself what’s going on?” I sighed standing up and wobbling “shut up. Stop asking me if I’m fine for gods sakes.” Oh no. Nononono. Fuck. I stumbled and Steve, Peter, and Natasha jumped out of there seats. I closed my eyes but they weren’t opening up again. I felt myself tumble into someone’s arms. Warm and stringy. Peter.

When I opened my eyes again I was connected to a couple tubes and wires but I wasn’t at the hospital. I knew this room too well. I was in the Avengers tower. “Morning.” Tony said smiling. I rolled over and he called the Avengers in. “She’s fine.” He said when Steve and Natasha bursted in right behind Peter. “How are you feeling?” Steve asked concerned. I only shrugged. I needed energy “Can I have a monster?” I asked as I sat up slowly. Peter shook his head “No. Mj called. She told me about your little diet! You can’t live off of monsters and water.” I sighed “it doesn’t matter.” He shook his head faster tears in his eyes. “No! I love you. So it does matter because I need you.” He put a hand on my cheek “why? You’re so beautiful.” I shook my head as the others came in.

I looked at them then looked at Peter. “Look at the girls. Look at Natasha. Everyone falls at their feet. Look at aunt May and Pepper. Look at Wanda. Look at them.” He looked at them confused “I don’t get it.” I shook my head looking at the floor, tears spilling out. “They are so perfect. They have nice boobs and good Ass. They are the perfect weight. They can just eat and still look like fucking Models Peter. Everyone wants to be them or is in love with them. I’d kill to look like them. Natasha knelt “I didn’t get this way starving myself sweetheart.” I looked away and Steve knelt on the other side of me “you’re so beautiful. You don’t have to look like Natasha. Or Pepper or Wanda or Sharon or anyone that isn’t you. You like being yourself don’t you?” I nodded and looked at Loki and Thor “Liz and Flash were making fun of me for it. Liz said I was hideous. Flash said I was worse than Ned. So I stood up for Ned but I couldn’t seem to do the same for me.” Loki pulled his daggers out and I shook my head “I was so frozen. It was pathetic.” Banner shook his head “that’s not pathetic. It’s okay to be scared sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

I hid my face in the crook of peters neck holding Steve’s hand. Steve was always my favourite and he was even my crush. But nobody went over Peters head. “Mj kept telling me I was pretty but it’s so easy for you guys to talk. You have hot perfect bodies. Like Steve has really hot abs. Because they aren’t like “I’ll crush you” abs but they’re “let’s cuddle and kiss” abs. Natashas body is self explanatory, and Peter. Oh Peter. You have the cutest face ever and that one time I saw you in your boxers- oh my god. Whatever! Point in fact is you’re all so perfect and ripped and you probably have really big-“ Peter slapped a hand over my mouth “okay. That’s enough talking.” I giggled a bit.

After that it took me a while to get back to my regular eating habits. But someone would always check in. I was only given rehab monsters till I could stop drinking them all together. They agreed not to tell my family as long as I ate properly. It was fun being able to eat whatever I wanted again. But I still felt conscious about my weight so Nat would help me find better ways to lose weight. We always dragged Wanda Pepper Steve May Peter and Tony to the gym. Often, Steve would bring Bucky and Sharon. I mostly just felt the urge to punch Sharon. Pepper would even bring Maria. Though I was getting healthier I was still finding that I wasn’t always feeling good. Steve said it’s because I have to stop staying up and playing with Peters lego but Nat thinks it’s just my body getting back into its old habits. Tony said it’s from listening to anything Steve says and Bruce says that it’s normal and my body is detoxing or something. Peter just likes to give me cuddles and kisses and belly rubs. Fury tells me he just wants everyone to shut up. Thor thinks I might not be able to go back to normal.

I hope you guys liked, it’s my first time writing about things like this so I hope you enjoyed it :)

[ptergwen]

love you the same

warnings: nah we’re good

summary: coming out to peter (bi!reader)

a/n: hi guys i’m so so so sorry for being ia i just didn’t feel comfy posting for a little while with everything going on. i might dip again but don’t forget to keep signing petitions and speaking up however you can! also HAPPY PRIDE YAYYYY this one’s for my fellow bi disasters <3

-

your heart is beating faster every second. you feel so nauseous that you can’t breathe right. you’re overwhelmed and terrified for what’s about to happen. it shouldn’t have to be so hard, hell you shouldn’t have to do it in the first place.

the idea that loving who you love needs a big announcement has never sat right with you. it’s not like there’s a default setting on every human being’s sexuality. nobody chooses who they are or aren’t attracted to. still, you want to do it. you’re tired of keeping all of this to yourself.

today is the day you’re ready to come out as bisexual. the first person you’re starting with will be peter. not your family, none of your other friends, but peter. you honestly trust him the most, and he’s always supported you through everything. you’re just not sure how he’s going to react.

obviously peter won’t be against it in any way. he’s not like that, actually far from it. what you’re afraid of is him seeing you differently. you’ve known each other since kindergarten. you used to do all that cheesy stuff like taking baths together. is this going to make him go back and analyze every second he’s spent with you for the last ten years? you’re about to find out.

you’ve been waiting at the door literally since he texted he was his way over. you open it after the first knock to reveal a surprised peter.

“someone’s excited to see me.” he wiggles his eyebrows, sidestepping past you to get inside. you shut the door behind him while he kicks off his shoes. “or maybe you’re not the only one with a tingle,” you joke. “reminds me of something that happened on patrol last night. you gotta hear this. i was-“ “can we talk about it in my room?”

you don’t mean to be abrupt, but you feel like getting this over with already. standing around and putting off the conversation is making it so much scarier. patrol updates will have to be postponed.

“um, yeah. sure. whatever you want.” he gives you a quick nod. without saying anything else, you take peter’s hand and lead him down the hallway. you let go once you get to your room. peter closes your door with a worried look as you gather your thoughts.

“why... are you in a rush or something?” he eyes you nervously. “i didn’t even get to say hi to your mom.” “she’s in her room doing work, so it’s fine. come sit.” you turn to him, pointing at your bed. peter takes the spot in front of where you’re standing. he’s making his signature puppy dog eyes up at you, and it’s so hard to get your words out. you inhale a deep breath.

now that you’re really doing this, you wish you’d made a plan earlier. there’s no right way to come out, but you feel like you’ll be the first person who manages to do it wrong. plus, you’re two kids with anxiety. neither of you wants to talk first.

“what’s going on, y/n/n?” peter finally breaks the silence, tilting his head to the side. “i wanna tell you something. i’m just not sure how because i’ve never said it before.” you twiddle your thumbs as a distraction. you’ve suddenly become very interested in the floor. peter takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it softly, willing you to look up again.

“whatever it is, just take your time. it’s okay.” “okay. thank you.” you squeeze his hand back with a nod.

this is exactly why you felt comfortable talking about this with peter in the first place. he’s so patient with you, and his little bit of encouragement reminded you that you’re making the right decision. you end up sitting down on your bed across from peter. he holds out his other hand for you, and you grab it.

“i don’t want what i’m gonna say to change anything between us, in a good or bad way. i’ll still be the same person. please don’t get freaked out.” you widen your eyes at him to stress your point. half smiling, peter moves both of your hands to rest in his lap. “we’re way past that. you know i’m not going anywhere.”

you find yourself laughing for the first time today. he truly has been by your side forever. every weird phase you’ve had, your family drama, and all the messed up stuff that’s happened along the way hasn’t scared him off. why would you liking girls be the thing to do it?

“true. i think i’m ready for real.” “then i am, too.” you play with his fingers like you were just doing with your own to keep yourself calm. “so, everybody knows i like boys. i talk about it all the time. i’ve told you my crushes.” peter nods so you know he understands. you let him sit with that for a few seconds before you continue.

“those weren’t all of them. that’s because some were girls. what i’m trying to say is, i like boys and girls. i’m bisexual.”

peter’s listening face changes into a huge grin. you hesitate, but raise your eyebrows at him to silently ask what that means. he throws his arms around you in a hug that’s so tight you almost fall over. you hug him back with your head on his shoulder and laugh in shock at his reaction. whatever you were expecting, it definitely wasn’t on this level. you’re enjoying it anyway.

“i’m so proud of you, y/n,” peter says into your ear, then pulls back and grabs your hands again. “that’s cool.” “it is? you’re not, like, rethinking our friendship?” he lets out a breath. “no, and you’re still the same y/n to me. i love you the same way i did before. promise.” “i love you, pete. a lot.” you wind your arms around his neck for another hug. he holds you close to his chest, smiling down at you.

“i’ve kinda had a feeling you were into girls for a while now.” your mouths drops open. “what? no you didn’t.” “i one hundred percent did. it wasn’t just a tingle, either. i have solid proof.” you cross your arms playfully. peter just shrugs like it’s nothing. “let me hear it because i thought i was pretty good at not giving myself away.”

“oh my god, no. there was that time when i caught you checking out liz and you said you were ‘doing research’ for me. you have a whole album in your camera roll dedicated to hot women. should i keep going?” you cover your face with your hands, peter laughing.

“no! that’s literally so embarrassing. also, how do you know about the hot women thing?” peter elbows your arm. “be more selective with who you give your password to.”

“you’re so annoying. but now that you mentioned it, wanna go through it together?” “i was waiting for you to ask.”

[honeyedlashton]

Thanks for Being a Friend

Words: 2170

Warning: some homophobic comments, and mentions of violence and bullying.

Ship: lashton fluff essentially

A/N: I haven’t written one of these in so long I forgot how to do it. Anyway. I’ve been sitting on this idea that Luke and Ashton met working at the same mall. A lot of it is based off of conversations I’ve had with hemmoangel so I can’t take all the credit. But anyway, this is how I think it went down. This is only for fluff and soft reasons. I’m trying to get back into the swing of little blurbs, so please be kind.

——————————————————————————

It wasn’t the first time Ashton had met him. He was sure they’d met before. Maybe when Ashton would only have a half shift at the KFC, and he’d catch a movie after work. He might’ve seen the boy at the consession stand. He’d probably bought popcorn from him. Better yet, he knew he remembered buying gum from him on one of his breaks every now and then. Who else was he supposed to go to when there was only a small sea of food court tables between him and a new pack of peppermint?

No, Ashton was very certain he’d seen him. Certain he’d kept his eyes out for this small, blonde boy—no matter how subconsciously he’d taken a notice. It was enough to remember his name.

“Luke”

That was what his little plastic name tag read. From the first day, to right now it stuck out in his memory. It was white plastic on a blue uniform shirt, Ashton always thought the color looked a little like Luke’s eyes—if a little darker.

Except today those eyes were covered by sunglasses. Little fluorescent green frames with black lenses. A bold fashion statement. The aviator frames took up half of the boy’s face, and his straightened blonde hair covered his forehead. This left only pink heart-shaped lips, a small pixie nose, and a delicate jaw as the only discernible features. But the glasses were the cause of torment from Ashton’s group of friends on this particular evening.

“Will you guys shut up, already?” Ashton huffed back at them as he handed Luke fifteen for their various drinks and snacks. “You’re all being really rude. And you owe me money on top of it.”

The three others in Ashton’s group silenced for a second, then whispered among themselves.

“What did I say? Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “And give me 12 bucks while you’re at it. I’m not made of money, you know...”

Ashton was avoiding looking at Luke as he worked. His cheeks hot with embarrassment. Mostly, he didn’t want Luke thinking that he thought like his asshole friends. “Hey, I like your glasses, man. Don’t worry about it.” He cooed softly when the blonde had came back with their drinks.

Luke let off a wan smile, but nothing like the normal cheery one he would normally wear. “Thanks.”

One of them handed Ashton all 12 bucks, while the rest took the drinks Luke had made them and walked off. Ashton heard “faggot” leave one of his friend’s mouths, and he looked up at Luke instantly. His mouth already poised to apologize.

But the pain he expected on Luke’s face—or the half that wasn’t behind the glasses—had been painted over into a sort of barely noticeable pout. “Have a good show,” he wasn’t sure if Luke’s voice was wobbling or if he’d misheard, but Ashton’s heart broke for him anyway.

“Luke, I’m so sorry about them. I’m not even friends with these assholes.”

“It’s okay,” Luke whispered, busying himself with toweling up a nonexistent puddle on the counter.

“No really, I’m so sorry...here,” Ashton bit his lip and looked between Luke’s pale hands and the other members of his party. “I’ll be right back.”

Luke didn’t seem to care about anything Ashton was saying, but he left anyway. He went to his group. “Which one is the Diet Coke?” He asked them cooly.

One of them handed Ashton one of the paper cups with the blue cinema logo on the outside. Ashton smiled without emotion and mimicked Luke. “Have a good show, assholes.”

He actually reveled their confused faces. And when faced with questions like: “What? Where are you going?” and “You’re not gonna hang with that kid, right?” Ashton only smirked.

“Well, it beats hanging with you losers.” He shrugged and sipped the drink through the straw. “Ugh, this is your Coke Zero, actually.” Ashton traded it and flicked them off as he left, feeling higher than life.

However that came to a halt when he got back to Luke, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere other than behind that counter. Thankfully there weren’t that many people around, and none of them were looking to buy popcorn. “Have you taken your break yet?” He asked softly.

Luke shook his head softly, and Ashton could see the little sliver of a blush under the rim of Luke’s glasses. And then he noticed a single tear clung to his jaw.

“What do you get? Fifteen minutes? It’s dead now, why don’t we go sit for a little bit.”

“I don’t know you,” Luke said softly.

“Mmm,” Ashton nodded. “Alright. I’m Ashton Irwin. I’m sixteen. I work at KFC across the food court, and sometimes I buy gum from you.”

“Oh...” Luke nodded.

“See? Now we’re not complete strangers,” Ashton cooed smoothly. But when Luke didn’t answer, he leaned against the counter. “Look, I don’t associate with them. Or I won’t anymore if that’s their stance on shit.”

After an agonizing second of silence, Luke finally looked up. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere you want. Any place that calms you down. It’s a big mall.”

“Can we go by the fountain?” Luke whimpered, letting through some of the sadness in his voice that he had so obviously been trying to hide.

“Of course,” Ashton whispered like he were talking to a wounded child.

Luke went through the process of clocking out for his fifteen minute break, and Ashton walked close to him, like he was scared someone else would say something cruel to this boy.

“I recognize you,” Luke said after a minute of silence. “Not only from you getting gum, but sometimes I see you get an ice cream.”

“You must have really good eyesight,” Ashton cooed. “My eyes are shit. I can barely see ten feet ahead of me. Unless I’m buying gum from you, or I’m this close, I can’t see you at all,” he teased to lighten the mood.

Luke smiled softly.

“Want an ice cream?” Ashton bumped shoulders with the smaller boy.

“Uh...” Luke hesitated, “no. No, I’m okay.”

“That’s not very convincing. What flavor do you want?”

“Uh...whatever flavor you’re getting is fine. You really don’t have to.”

“Don’t say that. I want to. It would make you feel better right?”

“Well yeah, but—.”

“Then it’s a necessity,” Ashton purred and ordered two cones of strawberry cheesecake. “This good?”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ashton sat him down on the edge of the fountain. It had little black fish sculptures shooting water out of their mouths. It gave a nice ambient sound. A nice break from the monotone chatter and mall music.

The small boy ate the Ice cream more readily than he’d accepted it.

“Luke, can I ask you a question?” Luke nodded. “Why the choice to wear the glasses?”

“I...uh...I didn’t really have one,” Luke fidgeted with his ice cream cone, chewing at the edge of the cone making a little satisfying crunches.

“Why? You got a black eye or something?” Ashton was only half joking, but when he saw the corners of Luke’s lips turn down, he knew he’d accidentally stumbled upon the answer. “Oh no...”

Luke’s frown turned more into a grimace. “That word doesn’t really hurt me anymore, but today it kinda got to me,” Luke whispered, and lowered the glasses enough to see a purple line right under Luke’s tearful blue eyes. Or at least the only clear eye Ashton could see. Not the worst black eye he’d ever seen, but definitely couldn’t have been fun to get. Ashton didn’t dare ask what happened.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t honestly think you were hiding anything. I swear. I have a really shit coping mechanism where I try to make jokes.”

“It’s fine. You’re the nicest person I’ve talked to today,” Luke said gently. “I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ashton shook his head.

“You’re being so nice to me. Why?”

“Well I don’t like the idea of someone picking on the little guy. Especially when he deserves it the least in the world.”

Luke looked away and Ashton could see the pink in his cheeks. “You don’t know me.”

“I want to...” Ashton smiled softly. “You seem pretty cool. I think you’d make a great friend.”

“You’d probably be the first to think that, I’m not very interesting.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Ashton shook his head. “I think there’s more to you than you give yourself credit for.”

“Yeah, I’m the fag who gets beaten up,” Luke scoffed.

“Every school’s got one...” Ashton added.

Ashton could tell Luke’s gaze was more pointed when he looked at him this time. “...are you...?”

Ashton shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t think it really matters.”

Luke nodded slowly. “Well I am...your friends were right.”

“They’re not gonna be my friends anymore.” Ashton hummed. “But you are.”

“I am?”

“If you want.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded.

“You can have my number, too,” Ashton offered after a second. “Or like we could be friends on Facebook.”

“You would? I don’t have very good photos up...”

“Neither do I. Mine are all embarrassing,” Ashton smiled softly to ease Luke’s mind.

“Okay. Yeah,” Luke nodded softly, then smiled again. “Yeah, I’ll add you.”

Ashton smiled and took out his phone. “Is it just Luke or Lucas?”

“Just Luke. And Hemmings as the last name.”

Ashton hummed and giggled on his own inner monologue. “What?” Luke looked at him, he could almost hear some anxiousness in his voice.

“Oh nothing, it’s not you. I had an algebra teacher who’s last name was Hemmings.”

“Was her name Liz?” Luke perked up.

“Yeah, is she related to you?” Ashton definitely saw a resemblance.

“Uh-huh! That’s my mum!” Luke grinned.

“Oh,” Ashton cooed and added Luke as a friend. Remembering how kind and firm Mrs. Hemmings was. He imagined she was a good mother if Luke could be out and open. “It’s a small world,” was all he said though.

“Thank you for this, Ashton,” Luke cooed holding up his ice cream cone. “And for uh, I guess taking me out of there. It’s been a really rough day.”

“Hey,” Ashton bumped their shoulders again with a little smile. “I’m just upset it took something like this to make me talk to you in the first place. I think you’re really...sweet.”

Luke looked at his feet, his expression unreadable.

“We should probably get you back. You think you’re gonna be okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke stammered, but he seemed confident as he nodded.

Ashton took his extra napkin that was wadded up in his fist and tossed it in the garbage as they walked back, making him look a lot more skilled than he was. “And don’t let anyone call you that. It’s your word. Not theirs.”

“I’m not really gonna stand up for myself. Everyone knows I’m weak.”

“No, you’re not weak. You’re strong enough to be out.”

“It’s not as fun as it sounds.”

“You’ve got me. And maybe a few other friends who are on your side?”

“I’ve got one, but his boyfriend is really mean to me.”

“Well you tell him that an upperclassman is gonna beat him up if he crosses you again,” Ashton cooed.

“Really?”

“If that’s what you need.”

“You’re the nicest person ever...” Luke looked up at him, his voice soft. Ashton blushed for some reason.

“I could say the same for you.”

Luke just smiled with a soft blush.

“Hey, I’ve got a band and a gig on Saturday, I don’t know if you’ve already made plans, but it’d be cool if you came.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded a little. “I’ll have to ask my mum to drive me, but okay.”

Ashton smiled, and sighed in relief. “Good. I’ll send you the details on Facebook...”

“Yeah I’d like that,” Luke nodded, and the moment seemed to linger. Both of them dreading the part where they’d have to leave. At least that’s what Ashton was thinking. “I should uh—.”

“Yeah, yeah you should get back,” Ashton nodded and his cheeks burned a little as he awkwardly stood in the entrance of the cinema. “It wouldn’t look good if I just hung around.”

“No probably not,” Luke giggled softly. Actually giggled. Ashton felt his heart skip, so proud of Luke. So proud of the 15 minutes they’d spent trying to help him feel better.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Ashton cooed. “I’m running low on gum.”

“Tomorrow,” Luke smiled gently.

Ashton nodded and let Luke go back to the concession stand, and Ashton sat outside on the curb trying to make his heart slow down. Was he really so shy? Was he really so nervous to be friends with Luke?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and among the string of texts from his friends, there was a notification on Facebook.

“Luke Hemmings accepted your friend request” and Ashton breathed a sigh of relief. He’d text him later, for now it was enough that he’d accepted anything at all.

[spaceskam]

this time i’ll do things the way you wanted

for @alexmanesappreciation day 2: canon divergence :) (warning: descriptions of injuries, mentions of violence, dissociation, memory loss, etc)

ao3

Michael paused as he walked into the airstream.

He'd expected to come home to no one. Maria was angry at him and Alex was missing. Well, allegedly missing. He'd spent the last four days frantically trying to search for him before caving and going to the group, laying out a whole plan to go find him in the early morning, only to see that Alex had found his way home all by himself. Michael's heart was in his throat.

On the tiny bed, Alex had made himself comfortable. He was curled up and still and hurt. From the tiny bit of moonlight alone, Michael could see the bruises on his pretty face. He took slow steps, not wanting to startle him despite how badly he wanted to just tackle him in a hug. He had no idea how badly he could miss that man.

"Alex?" he whispered, reaching out to touch he shoulder. Alex jolted awake and Michael took a step back to give him space, letting him look around and make note of his surroundings. His face looked even worse now that he could see more of it. "God, your face."

Alex's eyebrows furrowed just a little at that and he reached up to touch his busted lip. He didn't bother going to his eye that had been swollen shut or the nasty claw-like marks on his cheek or his nose that looked crooked or the giant split beside his eyebrow. Michael's whole body hurt in guilt. If only he found him sooner...

"I'm gonna call Kyle, okay? He'll patch you up," Michael said softly.

"Wait," Alex said, voice so underused and body so wrung out that he immediately started coughing. Michael quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to him. He took it and downed it.

Michael waited, fingers itching to call Kyle for help.

"Um," Alex hummed, testing out his throat before he tried to speak again, "Don't call Kyle."

"But you're hurt."

"Bullies suck, shit happens," Alex said, shrugging his shoulders. Michael blinked in confusion.

"Bullies?"

Alex stared at him for a moment and looked around before reaching up to touch his face again. He winced and Michael just felt so helpless. He wanted to kill whoever did that.

"You know there's bullies in basic," Alex said. Somehow, Michael felt even worse. Basic? As in, basic training, something Alex had gone to a decade ago? What did that have to do with anything? And, more importantly, did people back then fuck up his face that bad?

"Alex, what–"

"Please just lay with me for a minute?" Alex requested, looking up at him in absolute desperation, "Please? I'm so fucking tired of everyone except you. I just, I need... Just give me you for a little while?"

Michael didn't know what to do. Logically, he should've said no. He should've called Kyle and Liz and told them something fucky was going on. And, even then, he shouldn't even think about touching Alex. When he came back to modern day, he would be so pissed if Michael took advantage of him being confused.

But then his Alex was hurt and confused and wanted him.

"Just a little while," Michael said slowly, "Then we're gonna go get your face checked out."

Alex nodded in agreement. Michael stepped out of his shoes and watched with hesitation as Alex settled back into bed, staring up at Michael like he was scared to take his eyes off him. He began to brainstorm as to what could’ve possibly led Alex to think it was 2009. Had someone hit him so hard he was disoriented? Was he having a mental break? Was he fucking with him? Or...

Butyricol.

But even that didn’t make much sense because, with Jenna, it only clouded the last few months. If that’s what was happening, how much was in his system? Would he regain his memories when he got it out of his system? Were they gone forever? Was that even what this was?

Michael sat down on the bed and Alex reached out to pull him closer, hands making themselves at home on his body. He slung his good leg over Michael’s hip and dragged his fingers over his side, making sure to feel each muscle and rib before he cupped his face. Michael felt like he was going to lose his goddamn mind. When was the last time Alex touched him so freely, so confidently, so sure that this was his place? Had it really been a decade?

“You look old,” Alex whispered, “I think I’m dreaming.”

Michael didn’t know how to respond. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that.

“Since when did you decide to grow a beard?” Alex continued, scratching the hair on his jaw.

“It’s not a beard, I just haven’t shaved,” Michael told him, eyes detailing all that was wrong with his face. He gently grazed his forefinger over his broken nose and Alex jumped slightly. Yeah, he really needed to get Kyle.

“But it’s gonna be all itchy when I kiss you now,” Alex whispered, moving in closer. Michael knew he should tell him to stop and ask more questions. He had no idea what Alex thought was going on, just that he thought he’d just gotten out of basic. 

But Alex kissed him, careful not to hurt his own busted lip, and it was hard to remember to be an upstanding citizen.

“Sorry,” Alex said after he flinched in pain again, pulling away to touch his busted lip. Michael rested his hand on his hip. “Sorry, I-I want to kiss you, but it hurts.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s the thought that counts,” Michael told him, giving him a soft squeeze before pushing himself up to reach for his phone, “I’m gonna call Kyle, okay? Get him to come look at you.”

“Why do you keep talking about Kyle? I leave for a few weeks and you guys become buddy-buddy? Don’t call him,” Alex said, a little bit of harshness in his tone as he sat up. Michael eyed him again, trying to figure out exactly how to explain what was going on. He didn’t know how. He definitely needed Kyle and Liz as soon as possible. He texted them both. “Guerin, what the fuck is going on?”

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Michael said, sending out his S.O.S. before turning back to Alex. He reached out, laying his hand on the side of his neck instead of his cheek like he wanted to. There didn’t seem to be a single feature on his face that hadn’t been hurt. 

Alex thought they were 19. So Michael was going to act like he did when they were 19.

He moved in for a kiss, pecking the side of his mouth that wasn’t busted and then placing strategic kisses over his jaw and onto his neck. He could feel the tension bleed from his body and, if he could keep him that way, he would. 

“Okay, but,” Alex said, sighing gently as he let Michael lay him back down, “I don’t want other people showing up. I just wanna be alone with you.”

“He’s just coming to make sure your face is okay,” Michael told him, kissing his collarbone just once before realizing that was bruised too. “Alex, where else are you hurt?”

“Why Kyle though?” Alex prodded. Michael ignored the question, tugging on the hem of his shirt so he could see more. “Jesus, I’m fine, answer me.”

Michael looked up at his eyes--or, rather, eye--for a moment to try and gauge how he should approach this situation. This whole thing felt like he was stepping around a landmine. He just wanted to wrap Alex up in his arms and sleep until he was back to normal. Or maybe he didn’t want him to go back to normal. Maybe him not remembering was a blessing in disguise...

No. Alex needed to have his memory.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Michael asked. Alex swallowed, nervous energy radiating of him. Michael kept touching him in hopes it would give him something grounding to focus on.

“Last thing I remember was going to sleep two days before I got to leave basic,” Alex said softly, looking around again, “I think I’m dreaming. This is a dream.”

Michael caught his hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of his hand softly.

“It’s not a dream, Alex,” he said softly, “But I’m right here and I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay. Can I see where else you’re hurt?”

Alex looked like he was about two seconds from losing it entirely. Michael just kept touching him and kept hoping it’d be okay. Any moment now, Kyle would pull up and he wouldn’t have to handle Alex losing 10 years of his life by himself. Eventually, Alex agreed with a quiet little ‘yeah’ and Michael helped him get his shirt off.

Bruises littered his chest and his back like he’d been kicked extensively and Michael’s heart ached. He tried not to show that it made him so sad and instead pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. Then he started helping him out of his jeans. Which, honestly, Michael should’ve thought more about before he did it.

“Oh my God,” Alex said, voice strangled and hands shaking as he caught sight of his prosthetic. That seemed to be the last straw, the final thing to make him panic. He began stammered and hyperventilating, trying his best to make words and form sentences, but nothing made sense. It was just a sea of why and how mixed in with crying and heavy breathing. He was so confused.

“Hey, it’s okay, breathe with me,” Michael instructed calmly, getting Alex to look him in the eye despite the fact that it was much harder than it should’ve been. He wasn’t okay. Michael was starting to wonder if he ever would be. “I’ve got you, I’m right here. Things are going to be okay.”

“I’m dreaming, I have to be dreaming, this isn’t real,” Alex told him, shaking his head. His eye that wasn’t swollen was wide and terrified. “This isn’t real, Guerin, tell me this isn’t real!”

“Let me take it off because you’ve probably had it on for a week and that’s not good, okay?” Michael said softly. Alex took a shaky breath, shaking his head.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, baby, but I’ve got you. I’m right here,” he promised, rubbing his thigh gently. It seemed to be the only part of him that wasn’t fucked. He kept rubbing his leg and kept trying to keep him calm as he moved to text Kyle again, asking him to make sure he brought crutches with him.

When Michael turned back to Alex, he seemed a lot more calm. For anyone else, that might be a good thing. For Alex, it was certifiably not. Michael reached up to touch his face, hoping that would help ground him a little more. It was rare Michael could see him starting to dissociate, but right now it was obvious and, while it was understandable, he needed him to still be aware.

“Alex, it’s okay. I know it’s a lot, but it’s okay.”

“I wanna wake up now,” Alex said softly, distantly. It hit Michael in the chest hard. 

“I know. But stay with me for just a little while longer, okay?” he asked. Alex was still for a few seconds before he slowly nodded as if the question had only then processed in his mind.

Instead of focusing to hard on that, Michael went to remove the prosthetic from his body. He moved slow and cautious, unsure of what to expect. He kept checking with Alex to make sure it didn’t hurt him, but he’d seemingly checked out entirely. It left Michael on his own.

He peeled off the prosthetic and then the liner, grimacing at the strong smell of sweat and the clear irritation that had been going on for the last week. Alex’s leg was red and swollen. With a little bit of telekinesis, he got a warm, wet washcloth without leaving Alex’s side. He didn't react.

Michael took his time giving him basically a sponge bath with the wet washcloth, starting with his stump and moving up. His chest was bruised and his the flesh covering his ribs was extra tender, but for the most part the worst was directed at his face. Michael didn’t know whether to be thankful or even more angry.

He cleaned off the dried blood around his pretty face and did his best to be careful. Alex was still zoned out in his state of shock or regular dissociation or both, his eyes unfocused and his reaction time ridiculously slow if it was there at all. Michael just cleaned him up and then wrapped him in the blanket so they could wait for Kyle.

Climbing back onto the bed, Michael pulled the newly-burritoed Alex into his arms. That was the first time he caught sight of the injection spot on the back of his neck. When he ran his fingers over it, it seemed to shock Alex’s system back to life and he gasped.

“What the fuck is going on?” Alex asked, that same panic coming to the surface. He tried to sit up, but Michael just shushed him and held him. He knew Alex. He knew he just needed comfort. “How did I get here? What’s going on? I-I don’t understand, what’s going on?”

“I’ve got you,” Michael murmured against his hair, kissing the side of his head, “I’ve got you and I’ll explain everything I can, okay? I promise.”

Alex ended up moving closer, clinging to him. He wouldn’t say it, but Michael wasn’t stupid. He could tell that he was scared. Michael couldn’t tell him not to be because he was scared too. They had no idea how this drug worked, they had no idea if or when it would wear off. The whole entire thing was question marks that he couldn’t fix.

So he held Alex and even when Kyle came in with his handy first-aid kit and Alex got uncomfortable, he held Alex.

“What’s going on?” Kyle asked, eyeing them as if he was intruding. Michael took a deep breath as he tried to think of a concise way to answer him.

“Whoever took him gave him that fucking drug they gave Cam, but they upped the dosage or something,” Michael said. Alex lifted his head at the new information. “He thinks it’s 2009.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. Alex took another deep breath, a small whine vibrating in his throat as he dropped his head back onto Michael’s shoulder. He was so tired.

“But more importantly, whoever was holding him, beat the fuck out of his face and I need you to look at him,” Michael said, slowly maneuvering Alex so his back was against his chest. 

Kyle slowly moved closer before reluctantly sitting on the foot of the bed. Alex was laying heavily against Michael and Kyle wasn’t blind to the fact Alex not having his memories meant he didn’t know that Kyle wasn’t a dick anymore. Usually. But Michael kept talking in hopes to distract them both.

“I was thinking maybe Liz could do some tests? Maybe we can reverse the effects,” Michael said, rubbing his hands over Alex’s arms as Kyle reluctantly moved closer to his face. Kyle looked at Michael and then back to Alex. He knew it was judging him. “We need him back to our Alex if we’re going to get anywhere.”

“Yeah, we can head over to the lab as soon as I patch him up,” Kyle decided. He looked over Alex’s face for a few more seconds before getting up to wash his hands in the sink. “I’m gonna re-set your nose, get a couple stitches on your brow bone, and clean up the cuts.”

“Oh, and check his ribs. They didn’t feel broken to me, but it’s been awhile since I’ve broken a rib,” Michael said. Kyle sighed audibly before nodding.

“So,” Alex said softly, swallowing hard as he tried to sit up better, “I’m probably gonna regret asking, but if I’m not dreaming and it’s not 2009, what year is it?”

Michael leaned forward to press a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s 2019.”

Alex deflated against him with an exhale.

“Fuck. You really are old.”

Michael huffed a laugh and kissed his neck softly. He could feel Alex relax a little with each kiss. It made up for all the side-eyeing Kyle was doing when he sat back down.

“So, we’re friends with Kyle now,” Alex went on, trying to keep himself aware while also calm. 

“Yeah, we made up,” Kyle said, wiping an alcohol pad basically all over Alex’s face. He barely winced. But his hand made it’s way to Michael’s, weaving their fingers together and squeezing. Again, Kyle looked at Michael like he was the biggest dumbass in the world before going back to Alex’s face.

They made small talk for the entire time Kyle was messing with his face, catching Alex up to speed and answering questions. They filled him in on how he got taken, but how they didn’t know by who or why or anything. They told him how he was a Captain in the Air Force, but would soon be promoted to a Major. All the little things like that, all the things to keep him distracted before they had to deprive him of sleep to go do tests on him to see if this could be undone.

“No broken ribs. Ten on the right might be a little cracked, though, it feels a little weird, so be careful when you’re on your crutches, got it?” Kyle said, more doctor than friend. Michael wondered if that was because of Alex not knowing their current friendship status. He was putting distance between them for the same reason Michael stayed impossibly close. “I’m gonna go get them and then we can head to the lab.”

Once he was gone, Alex turned to face Michael again. He was more settled now, past the panic and onto acceptance if only because he had no other choice. Michael did his best to give an encouraging smile. They were going to be okay. They were going to find a cure for whatever the fuck they did to him and bring him back.

Then they would fix things.

“So if I managed to make up with Kyle...” Alex said, voice soft and careful, “What are we?”

“We?”

“Me and you,” Alex pointed out, smiling sweetly through his bold question just like he did when he was young. Michael couldn’t help but smile. He missed that. “Where have we gotten in ten years?”

Michael stared at him, his smile faltering once he realized he couldn’t actually give him a positive answer. They were broken up and over and had gotten in a fight the last time they saw each other. Alex’s sweet promises that he would keep him safe being ruined by Michael pushing him until he got mad was what had stuck in his mind since he’d gone missing. There was no good answer to give an Alex who thought he was 19 and was hurt and yet still so goddamn hopeful that his future had them together.

So, instead of answering, Michael leaned forward and gave him a kiss. Alex laughed softly and folded into the kiss despite his busted lip. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time they’d kissed through a busted lip. He knew it hurt, he’d said it hurt, but clearly Alex’s priorities were on him. And wasn’t that just the best thing?

Kyle cleared his throat as came back inside and Alex moved away quickly. Michael squeezed his thigh gently in reassurance and Alex accepted the crutches. Kyle helped him steady himself and they both helped him out of the airstream.

Alex shoved them both away, though, as he started heading for Kyle’s car. He didn’t want any help. Because of course he didn’t.

“This is bad,” Kyle breathed softly. Michael sighed, watching Alex struggle to handle both crutches and open the door at the same time.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, “But we’ll figure it out.”

And they would.

They had to.

[shesclearlya3]

(Dandy anon here!)Ok switching it up now! A tristan x reader where basically the reader is a vampire turned by the countess (when the reader tried commit suicide in the cortez in the 1950s after the death of their husband who was drowned 😉) and the countess see's a little bit of herself in the reader and tries to cheer them up by introducing them to Tristan ~also I really apericate you answering my asks! Its great!❤~

warnings: mentions of death, suicide, and depression

word count: 1,851

"y/n?"

You paused in front of your door, Room 237 when you heard the sound of your 'mothers' voice. It was very late, just past three in the morning when you decided to wander back home. 

When you didn't respond, she continued on, "I never see you around. You hide from me." You felt a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face the woman you had despised for years. Elizabeth looked stunning, even her face free of makeup, and dressed for comfort rather than vanity. Her eyes observed you quietly, seeing that you looked well-fed, and you weren't missing any limbs. 

"It's that time again. You know how it is," you respond, brushing her hand from your shoulder. Elizabeth nodded, her eyes casting downward as you refused her attempt to be a mother figure towards you, again. 

"I know. I worry about you, y/n. You think I don't, but I do." Elizabeth said, watching as you fiddled with the handle to your room. "Which is why I want you to meet someone tomorrow evening."

"Elizabeth, I'm not interested in a relationship, you know that-."

"Just come," Elizabeth nodded, gripping your free hand tightly in hers. You allowed it, finally meeting her eyes as she smiled at you, leaning in. As much as you hated to admit it, you almost liked it. You hadn't known the comforting touch of another for years.

"I think it would be good for you," Elizabeth said. "He is a bit troubled, a little lost, like you. Trust me." 

So you agreed. As you watched the clock tick by slowly, you wondered who it could possibly be that she wanted you to meet. You stayed in your room as the morning and afternoon hours ticked by, catching up on some reading and browsing through social media. Elizabeth swung by and told you to be in the lobby by eight. 

When the time came, you changed into better clothes before heading downstairs. You dodged Sally as she stumbled down the hall, laughing and yelling in gibberish at nothing. You could hear her voice ricocheting off the walls as you sat at the bottom of the staircase, seeing an empty lobby, like always. Not even Liz was around. 

You had waited on the stairs for a little while until you heard the sound of heavy boots coming down the stairs behind you. They paused, and you could feel a presence behind you, causing you to look. 

For a moment, you thought that Elizabeth was playing a cruel joke on you. You didn't believe your eyes as you looked at this man, his cerulean eyes observing you as if he also thought Elizabeth was fucking with him. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, glaring at you as you gaped at him. 

"I... I... I, uh..." you stuttered out, fumbling over your words like nobody's business. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, before he smirked, coming down the rest of the way. You stood up, seeing as he towered over you by a few inches. "Are you y/n? If you are, I gotta say, you're better looking than I thought you would be."

"You look like someone," you said calmly, finding yourself taking a few steps back from him. "What's your name?" 

"Tristan. Tristan Duffy." he said gruffly, "So... you are y/n, then?"

You nodded, "That's me."

Tristan kind of laughed, "You don't say much."

"I'm sorry, I just..." you decided to shut up, knowing that you'd only be spending one night with this man. He didn't need to know the details of your life, he was just going to be gone tomorrow, anyway. 

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink," Tristan said, gesturing for you to follow him. You did, wondering what Elizabeth's deal was, asking you to meet this guy that looked identical to your dead husband. 

You had sat at the bar with Tristan for a few hours. He seemed pleased that you finally seemed to open up after a bit. Despite his gruff appearance, he was rather endearing and had a great sense of humor. You found yourself laughing at his jokes, and before you knew it, you had moved to one of the couches in the lounge, sitting side by side as you talked.

"Who do I look like that, you know?" Tristan asked, "It's weird, Elizabeth said the same thing to me when we first met." 

You picked at a piece of string on one of the pillows sitting in your lap. You realized that you were starting to like Tristan. After all the time you had spent at the Hotel Cortez, it took you years to tell anyone. And why you have moved to California all the way from Southern Florida. 

"You look like my husband," you said quietly.

Tristan sat up straight, giving you a confused look, he almost seemed disappointed, "You're married?"

"No! No! Not anymore, at least," you said, watching as his posture relaxed. "He died. A long time ago."

Tristan quirked an eyebrow at you, "Are you..."

"Yes."

Tristan nodded, "Me too."

You sighed, "Elizabeth?"

"Who else?" Tristan laughed. 

You smiled, "I've been this young since 1954."

"You're really old," Tristan said, eyeing you up and down. "You're still banging, though."

You threw the pillow at him, smacking him directly in the face. He laughed before tossing it back. "Seriously, though. What's your story?"

"I'm afraid to tell you," you said honestly.

"Why?" Tristan frowned, his arm draping over the back of the couch. His hand itched to touch your shoulder, but he refrained. "I'm good at keeping secrets, sometimes." he joked.

"Everyone I have ever cared about, or loved, has left me," you whispered. Tristan watched you silently, and you continued on. 

"I was born in Florida in 1930. I was born to a wealthy family, and we lived next to the same family ever since I was born. They had a son who was just a few months older than me, his name was..." you swallowed, you haven't talked about him in so long. "His name was Dandy."

Tristan snickered, and you found your lips twitching at the sound. However, he quickly masked it, giving you a solemn look. "I'm sorry, please continue," Tristan said.

"Anyway, we went to school together, some fancy private institution that started allowing girls a few years before we enrolled. We spent a lot of time together, he didn't have many friends, except for another girl and me. When we were in high school, things between us changed. I had a boyfriend at the time. We dated for two months before he went missing." you swallowed.

Tristan perked up, "He went missing?" 

"Yes. They never found him, I don't think." you sighed. "But after that, many months later, we started dating. We dated nearly five years before we finally got married. His mother liked me, but when we announced her engagement, she tried to break us up. We both came from wealthy families, but she was afraid I was going to take their money." you rolled your eyes. "It was all a big mess for a while. When we got married, it was only the two of us."

"What about your parents?" Tristan asked.

"They died not long after graduation. They were driving home from a party when a storm came through, it looked like they lost control of the car and drove off a hill." you frowned, "Ironically, I was supposed to go with them that night, but... Dandy begged me not to go, I ended up pretending to be sick last minute, I watched them drive away from my window, and I never saw them again."

Tristan didn't say anything, but you felt his hand finally press against your shoulder. Much like the night before, you enjoyed the contact from another person. 

"We got married in October of 1951. We were married only a few months before he was taken from me." you sighed. "Dandy never wanted kids growing up, but after we got married, he talked about them. It was actually the last thing we talked about before he died."

"How did he?-"

"He drowned." you said flatly, "I came home one day and found him, someone had moved his body after he passed."

"y/n, I'm so sorry," Tristan whispered.

"You look just like him," you continued, "I still have all of our photo albums. The few photos I had of us in color disappeared," you frowned. "I look at them all of the time, but everything else about him exists only in my memory. Tomorrow is the anniversary of his death, he's been gone almost seventy years."

"How did Elizabeth find you?"

You smiled weakly, "After he died, I inherited his money. I still had the large fortune left to me by my parents, including the money I received selling my parents' house. I lived in Florida for a few more months. I went into a deep depression, I hardly left my room, I lost so much weight that I ended up being hospitalized. Until finally, I just packed some things and left."

Tristan was still interested, and you continued telling him your story. You went to Los Angeles after traveling the world. Dandy had always talked about going to LA or moving there eventually. You came for him, but Elizabeth found you one night, sleeping in Dandy's car. 

"She could practically smell the tragedy wafting off me," you said. "She offered me a room here, said that I could stay as long as I wanted as long as I wasn't living in my car. I lived here for a few weeks, but staying in one place, especially the same city Dandy had always spoken about visiting, caused my depression to get worse." 

"On his second anniversary, I tried to kill myself," you laughed dryly. "I tried to drown myself in the bathtub, but it was hard. It made me think of what he went through in his final moments. So I took a bunch of pills, not wanting to wake up the next day."

Tristan winced, his hand still lingering on your shoulder.

"But I did. I woke up in Elizabeth's room, standing over me. She was crying, asking what happened to me that made me want to die. I was very angry, I stormed off, and I stayed away for a few days. Until I couldn't take the hunger anymore, and I came back, asking what she did to me."

"Do you still hate her?" Tristan asked.

You looked at him, seeing how intensely he was watching you. 

"I did." you answered honestly, "I hated her for a long time. I felt like she took away my one chance to be with him again, to finally stop all of the suffering I was going through. She told me about all the loss she suffered, but I always said she never understood how I felt." you frowned. "Now, I think she always did."

Tristan smiled at you, and you smiled back. For the first time in a long time, you felt hope. 

[twokinkybeans]

The Arachnoids: ROCK BAND AU [Starker] - Chapter 6: HEADSTART HERO

READ “CHAPTER 6: HEADSTART HERO” ON AO3

Find the masterpost with all the chapters linked here!

Taglist: @crystallinecrimsonmoth​​​​ & @staticwhispersinthedark​​​​ (Let me know if you want to be added!)

-

Chapter 6: Headstart Hero

Peter knows exactly what it feels like to be standing in the crowd, anticipating the start of a show. The strange connection you feel with all these people that you’ve never met, the laughter, the chatter, the excitement coursing through your veins as you wait for the lights to finally dim.  Standing backstage holds the same kind of elation; yet it’s completely different. He too, is waiting for the lights to dim. Every time the lights flicker, every time the crowd makes a little more noise, he feels his heart skip a beat. It can’t be healthy to be so tense. His ribcage feels tight and he swallows. Peter tries to shift his guitar strap a little in the hopes of gaining some breathing space. Not that it helps of course, ‘cause it’s not the strap that restrains him.

Next to him, MJ and Ned are fighting equal battles with themselves. Playing for the New Year’s Eve show had been challenging enough, but somehow, this feels different. Like they’re gonna have to prove their worth. This is their chance to get their name out. To connect with potential fans. It’s overwhelming. Very, very much so.

It shouldn’t be long now, please, please don’t keep him waiting any longer. He-

The lights dim at last, and Peter is hit with the screams emerging from the crowd. Astonished, he knows he should jump to action right now. It’s almost as if someone else takes over his body when a broad smile plasters itself on his face and he runs into the stage lights.  “Welcome!” MJ laughs into her microphone. She looks absolutely stunning. Her aquamarine dress swirls around her loosely as she walks. Venus, for sure. “We are the inner concentric, the outer radial lineament, the spider-like volcano-tectonic structures from Venus. We have come to Earth to give you a hint of the whirling desire that is found on our planet. We are… The Arachnoids!”

Ned kicks off with a fast-paced rhythm, the deep vibrations of the bass drum tingling on Peter’s skin. Everything about this makes him feel so utterly hyped up. He lets his pick rain down on the strings, earlier nerves forgotten. His fingers glide over the notes so easily. The stage lights are blinding, but he knows how big the arena is. He knows exactly how many people are out there- watching him, cheering for him. 

He walks forward, dancing to MJ’s sweet harmony, and slides to his knees to get a break from the lights for a quick second. The group of young adults pressed against the front barrier raise their hands to him and scream. Peter’s eyes widen when he sees one of the girls is wearing a bright-pink tee with ‘The Arachnoids’ written on it with a black marker. He grins widely at her and winks. The girl instantly tears up and brings her hands together in a heart-shaped symbol. “I love you, Peter!” She mouths excitedly.

Peter can’t help the stunned chuckle that rises from his chest and he stands up again, walking over to MJ while quickly waving to the girl in the crowd once.  Then, he turns around and leans against MJ, his head dropping backwards onto her shoulder. MJ plays along. She moves her hand up to ruffle through Peter’s hair as she keeps on singing through the high notes of the chorus. “And now we’re hoooo-hoooooome!”  Peter jumps away from her and bounces on the balls of his feet and moves his head along to the music. He runs towards the other side of the stage, giving the crowd a good show as he keeps playing with his instrument raised high in the air.

Somehow, his glance is pulled towards the small backstage area he can see from there. Tony’s seated on top of the transport cases again, watching the show intently. Peter can’t help feeling surprised at the fact that Tony’s here watching them play. 

Peter swallows when he realizes that his solo is coming up, the exact one Tony had given him the unsolicited advice about earlier today. He presses his lips together and makes the split-second decision to play it Tony’s way. He may not have practiced it yet, but he knows he can do it. He wants to. Why he wants to please Tony so badly is a mystery to him, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. That’s how he takes a few steps closer towards the edge of the stage and takes a deep breath. His fingers find their usual pattern, his pick hitting each snare perfectly- D-string, he reminds himself. Play the F on the D-string. 

And oh, Tony had been right. Peter flies through the solo so much easier than ever before. Endorphins release from his brain and make him feel nice and warm all over. He turns his head to look at Tony again. The man’s eyes are wide as he watches Peter play all the way through the solo with ease, and Peter wonders if the man had expected him to actually listen. Peter most certainly didn’t.

As soon as the solo ends, he breaks his gaze with Tony’s and resumes playing chorus’ rhythm, walking over to Ned who’s happily smashing on his drums. The new kit suits him perfectly. Peter has to suppress the urge to look at Tony again and he scoffs quietly to himself. He’s starting to get weirdly attached to the other guitarist. Asshole or not, there’s… something about the man and it’s inherently annoying to Peter. So, that’s why he refuses to look over even once for the rest of the show, and by the end of the set, he’s nearly forgotten that it even happened. 

Nearly.

-

“You guys were fantastic out there- Woah!” Harley laughs and pulls Peter into a tight hug. Peter chuckles, patting the other boy’s back in return. It’s a little awkward, with his guitar between them, but the intention is what matters most. “Thanks, dude!” Peter sighs happily and pulls back. He only then realizes how much his shirt is sticking onto his skin. “Ugh, I need a change of clothes.” Harley chuckles at that. “One month into this tour and you won’t even notice anymore,” he jokes. “We’ll all walk around smelling like shit- part of the fun, I say!” Peter laughs and shakes his head at that. Harley, in return, looks very pleased with himself.

“Hey, I gotta go switch the stage set-up- eh, tell MJ I’ll talk to her later?” Harley asks, leaning in a little as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear it. MJ’s standing a couple of feet away from them, talking to Liz, one of the other roadies working on this tour. “Uhh, sure!” Peter answers, noticing the small blush that spreads on Harley’s cheekbones. The blonde grins and glances over at MJ once more before taking a step back. He finger guns at Peter and winks. “You’re a hero!”

Peter snorts, it’s adorable how clearly the boy is trying to get MJ’s attention. Not that he actually has to try very hard. MJ and Harley have been messaging each other every single day since the New Year’s Eve show. Sometimes they even facetime. Peter can tell that MJ is slowly starting to open up to the idea of Harley possibly liking her, but he’ll keep his mouth shut about it. She has to figure it out herself. In her own time. 

“Hero,” Tony scoffs from behind him. Peter has to actively keep himself from rolling his eyes at the remark and he turns around. “That’d be me,” he deadpans. Tony lets out a surprised laugh at that and Peter feels a stupid happy feeling emerging in his chest. No, he reminds himself. Don’t let him get to you. He doesn’t want to befriend the man so quickly. He might be less of a prick today, but that doesn’t mean he’s suddenly a kind presence to be around. He’s very much not that. “Space hero… Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” “I guess.” Peter eyes the man, unsure what he wants from him. Tony licks his lips once and tilts his head.

“So,” Tony starts slowly. “Seems my advice wasn’t that bad after all, mmh?” “I never said it was bad.” “But you didn’t like it.” “I didn’t ask for help, Tony.” Peter narrows his eyes a little, trying to read the man’s face. Tony’s deep brown eyes hold something so… Unexplainable. It’s no fragility, neither is it playful. It’s some weird mixture of every possible emotion out there. It makes it feel both very intense and deep, and closed-off at the same time. There’s so much to see that it’s impossible to know what’s truly going on. Peter sighs. “Unsolicited, but it worked. Yes. Thank you.”

“Ah,” Tony exclaims proudly and Peter instantly wishes he hadn’t said it. It’s irritating and he knows that whatever words Tony will speak next, it’s gonna be something cocky again. “When the student is ready, the teacher appears. Mmh, never thought it was true. When do we start your classes?” Peter huffs and looks away for a second.  “I’m not taking classes from you. I’m sure you got better things to do than waste your time on beginners like us.” Peter instantly regrets his words when he sees a flash of rejection on Tony’s face. The man straightens his shoulders, eyebrows furrowing together. Peter knows that whatever he said, it triggered the man’s jerkiness full force. “Fine, I’m just trying to be nice. But you’re right, Peter. I got better things to do,” Tony spits out and he stalks off.  “Fuck,” Peter mutters to himself. He messed up. Nice job, Parker. Keep going like this and you’ll find your ass on a plane back to New York first thing in the morning. He wishes he knew what had set Tony off so much, but at the same time, he can feel anger bubbling up inside him. It’s so utterly frustrating that Tony can’t handle anything without stomping his feet and throwing a tantrum. It’s not Peter’s problem. It’s not his issue to solve. “Go fuck yourself,” he mumbles quietly. Feeling annoyed with the fact that the whole, hazy feeling of post-concert bliss has shattered. 

“Hey Pete, we killed it out there!” Ned interrupts his thoughts as the drummer nudges his side. “And those fangirls in the front, can you fucking believe it? We got fans!” Ned’s enthusiasm instantly lightens Peter’s mood a little. Tension leaves his body and he grins widely at Ned. “We’re gonna be huge, Leeds. One day, I’m telling ya!” “Let’s toast to that, boys!” MJ chimes in and hands both of them a small bottle of water. Peter eagerly takes it from her hands and skews the cap off.

“You,” he says as he brings the bottle to his mouth, “-are a lifesaver.” “I know,” she smirks and chugs some water down as well. “Has anyone seen Harley? He said he’d see me after our set,” she then asks, voice wavering slightly. She cranes her neck to try and spot him. “He just hopped by, told me to tell you he’d see you later. Not sure what he was up to, but running ‘round as always,” Peter tells her. MJ seems pleased with the information that Harley told Peter to make sure she wouldn’t feel left behind. “Poor dude,” Ned mumbles. “I’m sure he doesn’t get paid even half of what he deserves.” “He loves the job, though,” MJ smiles. She tilts her head at Peter. “I saw you talking to Tony, by the way! He seemed nice today?”

Peter scoffs. “He sorta was, in his own way. But one wrong word and he turned all bitchy again.” “Ugh, there’s always some issue with him, isn’t there? Do you still wanna watch their set after that?” “Yes,” Peter answers. “They’re a good band. Who knows when we’ll be kicked off the tour, we should enjoy it while it lasts.” He tries to bring it jokingly but knows it sounds petty as fuck. Dammit, Tony sure brings out the worst in him.  “Yeah,” MJ smiles. “I vote we stay.” Peter simply nods and takes another big sip from the water and wipes the small stains of sweat from his forehead using his sleeve. He still feels low-key guilty about the whole encounter with Tony. The least he can do is watch the show and give them their support. He’ll have to try to ignore the nagging thoughts clawing at his mind. He can do that, he hopes.

-

Read the next chapter >> 7: Ice Cream Ignition

[el-gilliath]

I Will Survive

Well damn, who would've thought something like this could happen at 4am (Norwegian time). So beware of any spelling errors, please and thank you.

As always, dedicated to my lovely @lsobelevans. I’m sorry it took me so damn long lol

BE AWARE of violence in this chapter. None graphic, but you do see aftermath

Ao3

He hasn’t stopped thinking about the kiss. Of Cowboy’s lips on his. Of his hands on his skin. Of the gorgeous hazel of his eyes. Of the face he can’t remember.

He realized quickly that Influence is probably the reason he can’t remember, it seems like something that is within her abilities. A part of him is glad, he doesn’t want to remember Cowboy’s face until he knows his name, and he does remember the feel of his gorgeous curls between his fingers. It felt good to run his hands through them, it’ll feel good when he gets to do it again.

After getting Cowboy out of the hands of the Russians, the bond, the connection, between them felt more profound. Kissing him made it even more so. Alex can feel it, in a way, the connection underneath his skin.

He also knows how dangerous it is, how many people who would love to use him as bait for Cowboy, should their tentative thing be known. Everyone and their mother has warned him about it, including Liz (who is very publicly dating Detective Max Evans and not Electrobuzz), Maria (who knows all the shit that happens in the vigilante world), and Kyle (that did not go over well). Even Arturo has given him the worried face and soft spanish proverbs, even though he doesn’t need them. None of them understands that being Jesse Manes’ youngest child has put him in the spotlight and kept him there for years.

No matter how much Jesse hates his son, he wouldn’t stand for anyone giving him the dishonor of taking his son. It’s the one thing he can count on more than anything when it comes to his dad, he doesn’t like dishonor. If nothing else, Alex will appreciate that about his dad, no matter how much shit he gets for it. It also means that he knows Jesse will come for him, even if it’s only for the glory of having rescued his son and not because of Alex himself.

Which is why he’s not afraid when he finds himself being dragged into a car as he leaves the Post on a Wednesday afternoon, Rosa screaming “No!” as his eyes meet hers when they take a hold of his arms and kick his legs out from under him so he can’t really resist. He just lets himself be dragged into the van, giving Rosa as much of a reassuring look as he can. He doesn’t want her to be afraid for him, even if he knows she probably will be.

He’s fairly sure he knows exactly where they’re taking him anyway.

The kidnappers throw him into the back of the way, screaming at him in broken english to sit down and shut up. They scream that if he makes any trouble they’ll kill him. Alex knows that they won’t, but he still nods, curling together like he’s frightened, like he’s cowering. He’s not, fear isn’t something he feels lightly anymore but he has to protect his leg. If they take that then he’s gonna have one hell of a harder time with everything. Thankfully the men only scowl at him behind ski-masks as they drive off. He closes his eyes, counting seconds and minutes to try to find out where they’re going, listening out for the murmuring that’s happening in the van with him.

He knows he’s right when the driver starts talking louder in russian, when they slow down after about 20minutes. They’re in the Russian compound. And he’s probably gonna meet Mr. Serkoff again, after getting the diamonds off of his hands. The diamonds he decidedly did not give his father.

He’s about to be in a bigger heap of trouble than he’s been in a while.

He’s roughly pulled from the car a few minutes after they stop, pushed ahead so quickly he barely has time to put his feet under him. His leg pulls in the wrong side of comfortable and he bites the inside of his cheek not to cry out. Instead he straightens himself, stands tall and walks into the lion's den. He ignores the pushing, he ignores the yelling. He’ll face this on his own terms, not on theirs.

He’s taken to a back office in the Diamond Storage and roughly shoved into a chair in front of a huge oak desk, where Serkoff is sitting watching his men’s rough handling with a bored look on his face. Anyone not good at reading faces wouldn’t see the underlying anger, the fury.

Alex Manes grew up with Jesse Manes. He’s seen more anger than he ever wants too.

“Mr. Manes.”

“Mr. Serkoff,” Alex replies. He makes sure his voice is calm, collected. He needs to stay strong. “I don’t think taking me right outside the Post was the smartest idea you ever had.”

“Perhaps not. But I doubt you are surprised to find yourself back here again.” The anger turns obvious, a snarl on the russians face. “You took my diamonds, Mr. Manes. And you did not deliver them to your father. He was not… pleased. And as a result, I am not pleased.”

Alex just looks at him. He hitches a brow slightly as if to say ‘get on with it’. He might not be the good little cop boy his father wants him to be, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable. And right now he needs to be a Manes.

“He told me he never sent you to get the diamonds. That he would never.” The chilling grin is the first sign. “He told me to do whatever I wanted to you. He would rather find your corpse, than to find you alive.”

It breaks his heart, just a little, to hear that. But he also knows it’s not true.

“If you hadn’t taken me very publicly that would be true. But you did. My father might hate me, Mr. Serkoff, but he won’t stand for slights on his honor.” Alex’s top lip curls upwards in a parody of a smile. “Taking his son like that? His disabled son which the public thinks he loves? You can’t imagine the outrage.”

Something flickers in the burly Russians eyes. Almost like compassion. Almost like understanding. It disappears fast behind the mask of indifference.

“Give me my diamonds.”

“I don’t have them.”

Serkoff visibly bites his tongue, hard, most likely to stop himself from speaking too early. Alex understands him better than he wants to at that moment.

“Exactly how much does my father have on you, Mr. Serkoff,” Alex asks. The snort in response wasn’t what he expected.

“Your father has nothing on me, Mr. Manes. I deal with him because I want to, not because I have to.” Well shit. “And if you do not have my diamonds, I have no need of you.”

The knowledge that he means exactly what he’s saying churns inside Alex’s stomach. He has nothing to stop this, unless he gives up the diamonds. The problem is that he’s not lying, he doesn’t have them. But he does know where they are.

He also knows that giving them up would be the end.

“What if I could make you a deal?” Alex asks. Giving up the diamonds would be the end, but he can give him something different, something that might be worth more.

“And what kind of a deal would that be?”

“In exchange for me walking out of here, I could give you information. Information my dad probably doesn't want you to have.”

“And how would that benefit me?”

“When I take him down, I’ll keep your name out of it.” Alex takes a deep breath. “And in the end you’ll have your diamonds back.”

Serkoff looks at him in a way Alex is intimately familiar with, having grown up in the Manes household, like he’s a bug he wants to squash. But there’s also interest, a curiosity that Alex can’t help but feel hopeful about. If he can convince this burly russian that he can give him valuable information he might have a chance. It also means that his rig at the Pony will be brushing off the dust in a way he promised he wouldn’t do any more.

“Your offer is interesting,” Serkoff replies. “But you stole my diamonds, Mr. Manes. For that I cannot just let you leave.”

It’s the last thing he remembers as he’s hit in the head with a gun.

———

Pain. Harsh spoken russian words. The glint of a knife. Pain.

------

He wakes up, doesn’t know how much later, alone in a room. He’s on a bed, prosthetic still on. His head is pounding, his stomach is on fire, his hands filled with tiny cuts. It hurts, but he knew this was a possibility. It’s not like he hasn’t suffered worse before.

“Mr. Manes.”

He jumps, his heart hammering in his chest. His spatial awareness comes rushing back, recognizing the fact that the door’s been opened and that Serkoff is now in the room with him. He’s thankfully standing by the door, making no moves to come closer. It makes Alex’s heart settle a litte.

“Mr. Serkoff. Done beating me up?”

“Yes,” the russian replies, simple as that. Maybe it is. “Now tell me about the information you can give me.”

Alex swallows. “Will you let me go if I do?”

“I will. I could not let you go without some retaliation. My own people would think me weak if I did, but now I can. If you give me the information. From what my sources tell me, the youngest Manes is a very good hacker.” Serkoff grimaces. “I was also told hacking was how you lost your leg.”

“Yeah. It was. Doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.”

“On the contrary Mr. Manes, for you to have lost your leg you must have been very good, for someone to want to hurt you that much.”

“My dad is the reason I lost my leg, Mr. Serkoff.” Alex sighs, worn and tired. “Maybe now you understand why I want to stop him.”

Serkoff doesn’t say anything, but Alex recognizes the look in his eyes. It’s the look of someone who does understand, it makes the look in his eyes earlier make all the more sense. He knows exactly what Alex is talking about, probably better than Alex thinks he does.

“And you will keep me and my men out of it.”

“I will. I can’t keep the russian mob out of it completely, but I’ll try.”

“And I will get my diamonds?” Serkoff asks, and Alex just nods. His body is starting to shut down, in pain and aching. Talking is starting to become too much. “Good. I will get you a scapegoat, someone who should be taken down with your father. Now rest, your friend will be here soon.”

Alex opens his mouth to ask who said friend is, but he doesn’t have the chance before Serkoff nods sternly and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Alex to his own thoughts. Alone, deep in the diamond storage with the russian mob. A friend coming soon.

He really hopes Cowboy or Influence didn’t get themselves involved.

Still he lays back down and rests. He probably doesn’t have to fight his way out but he still wants to get some strength back. Even if that strength is skin deep, allowing himself to rest so he can walk out on his own is enough. Serkoff and his men are not someone you want to appear weak in front of. Especially if he’s going to have somewhat of a working relationship with them.

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he rests, lost in his own thoughts of where he needs to move his rig (he can’t keep it at the Pony just in case someone traces it back to him), how he’s going to keep Arturo from finding out (he already knows how mad Arturo would be, after how frightened he was the last time) and who’s coming to get him (he’s going to kill whoever it is for walking voluntarily into the compound).

Which is why he startles (spatial awareness, come on) when the door bangs open.

“Hermano, you better be alive on that bed so that I can kill you myself.”

He huffs a laugh, of course it’s Rosa. A spitfire latina would be the only one crazy enough to come get him in the middle of the russian mob and threaten murder.

“I’m fine, Rosa. Just resting,” he answers, smiling in amusement as her glowering only increases. He’s still thankful for the way she stalks over and throws herself down on him, hugging him tightly.

“I was so scared when they took you,” she whispers as he hugs her back, mindful of his aches. “I even called Maria and you know I prefer when she comes to me.”

“I appreciate your sacrifice,” he whispers back. Even though they both know that Rosa’s burgeoning interest in Maria means they’ve called upon each other half a dozen times (if not more) since the night at the Pony. Though he’s pretty sure Rosa actually prefers it when Maria does come to her. And when she doesn’t have to call her to find someone else.

“You better. I’m in Maria’s debt now, I don’t like being in anyone's debt.”

“I know. But you can get a date out of it?”

“Vato, don’t you even-

“Okay! Okay” Alex interrupts her with a laugh that turns into a cough. “Thanks for coming.”

“When the Russian mob calls and tells you to come to their secret base to pick up your best friend, who they just kidnapped you kinda go,” Rosa answers, grumbling into his chest. Alex just holds her tighter, squeezing her in his version of a thanks. Something he knows she understands, none of them are big on talking about their feelings in high strung environments. “Speaking of the Russian mob…”

“Yeah, no, I’m not telling you here. Later, okay?

“Si,” Rosa replies. “But you better tell me.”

“I will. But we need to get going.”

Rosa nods and gets up, pulling Alex with her. Standing is painful, but he can put pressure on the prosthetic without problems, meaning Serkoss left it well enough alone. It helps him move out of his own power. He's grateful for that much at least.

They walk out of the compound easily after that. All the Russian men are gone, vanished from their vicinity. Alex knows, he uses all the tricks in his books to look for them, as they move out to where Rosa’s car is parked. He looks back one more time before he gets in, and catches Serkoff watching them. He nods, a gesture of respect Alex didn’t expect. Still, he nods back and gets into the car.

“Where too?”

He looks over at Rosa. “The Pony. I have some business to take care of.”

He’s never felt more relaxed putting his back to the bad man than he does when they drive out of the parking lot and set course for the Pony.

The car ride is quiet, something Alex is grateful for. It gives him a chance to rest some more, leaning back into the comfy seat of Rosa’s car and closing his eyes. He breathes deeply and evenly as he listens to Rosa’s ever present grumblings about traffic.

He nods off, just a little, waking again as he hears Rosa call Maria and tell them they’re coming. Good, he doesn’t need the hassle of scared Super’s today.

Which proves to be his famous last thought as they walk into the Pony and Cowboy is there. Frantic with worry. Alex watches him with a surprised look as he walks back and forth over the Pony floor, rambling to himself with his mask on, but hat off, not listening to a word Maria says. Maria meets his gaze with an exasperated look on her face, tilting her head slightly to where Influence, Electrobuzz and Kyle are arguing loudly amongst themselves. He watches them with an artificial detachment he wills into being. He can’t afford to care. Especially now that he has a job to do.

“Cowboy.” He speaks the word clearly, a bit louder than he usually would. He needs his attention.

He’s not expecting to get the attention of everyone. Even Liz appears from the back room, cursing up a storm when she sees his bruised face. And Liz cursing starts the rest of them, besides Maria who just watches him and Kyle who walks over to Alex and silently asks permission to check him out. Alex looks at him and Kyle backs away, knowing that it’ll have to wait. Their friendship might not be all good, but their communication still works perfectly.

“Stop!” Maria yells. Miraculously it works. “This is my bar, and this is Alex’s safe space. Let him fucking breathe.”

“DeLuca-”

“No,” Maria interrupts, sending a vicious look Cowboy’s way. Alex can’t help that a tiny particle of him appreciates the way she makes him flinch. “Alex, please let Kyle take you in the back and make sure you’re okay. Please.”

Alex watches her, the way they listen to her speak even as they shoot him glances and he’s so proud. So proud of her and the woman she’s become since her mother died, since she took over the Pony and started protecting the people that might need it the most and the least at the same time. Maria DeLuca is a savior, though he really hopes that one day she will let someone Rosa save her right back. No one deserves it more than her.

He nods at her, shooting Kyle a look as well before he walks towards the backroom. He can feel Cowboy watching him as he moves but he’ll worry about that later. Right now he needs to focus on something else.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Kyle asks as he closes the door. Alex just shoots him a look. “I mean worse than anywhere else.”

“No.”

“How about your stomach?”

“No.”

“Your leg?”

“No.”

“Damnit, Alex!” Kyle yells, startling both of them. “Just… Just please answer me properly.”

Alex runs a hand through his hair, sighing deeply as he does. Time to treat Kyle like a doctor, and not an enemy. “My leg is fine, they didn’t touch it. Stomach is sore but seems fine. My head is killing me and my face is probably starting to get a real nice shiner. I’m fine, Kyle.”

“Only you would be kidnapped and beat up and say you’re fine,” Kyle mutters angrily and Alex can’t help but huff out a laugh. He has a point.

“You want me to apologize instead?”

“No. I just want you to stay safe.” Kyles gives him a look. “Within the range of safe at least.”

Alex rolls his eyes but doesn’t answer. Kyle knows him well enough to know that the Manes range of safety isn’t the same as everyone else's. Kyle snorts in derision at the eye roll but doesn’t say anything else either, preferring to finish looking Alex over in silence. Alex finds himself grateful for the familiarity and that they don’t need to talk. He might not have completely forgiven Kyle yet, but Kyle knowing what he needs and when to shut up helps. Maybe more than he thought it would, since it was Kyle opening his mouth that destroyed them the first time.

“Thank, Kyle,” he says, as Kyle moves back with a satisfied nod some minutes later.

“Any time,” Kyle replies as he packs away the nicely stocked first aid kit Maria has in the back room. “Want me to send in Cowboy?”

“No. I need to talk to Maria first.”

Kyle gives him a look of slight surprise, but nods before he goes through the door to the front of the pub. Alex waits until Maria joins him a minute later.

“You okay?” She asks, walking over to him and gently cupping his face in her hands. Her eyes are alight with worry, her frame tense in a way she usually isn’t.

“I’m fine, Maria. That was a necessary meeting.”

“Meeting? Alex, they kidnapped you!”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But now I have an ally against my father.”

“Is that what this is about, your dad?” Maria asks.

“No. It’s about keeping them safe,” he answers, nodding towards the front of the bar. “Kyle, Liz, Rosa. Cowboy, your siblings. You.”

Maria huffs. “My secret siblings out there can take care of themselves, as can Cowboy, the rest of them and me. I’ve been the unofficial Super bar for years Alex, the police can’t take me down for shit.”

“They can if my rig is here. Especially if it’s in use.”

He sees it happen the second it dawns on her, the second she understands just why he’s calling it a meeting.

“You can’t do that. The last time you hacked you lost your leg,” she says with frightening calm. “If you do and your father finds out again you’ll lose your life!”

“I will. But this time I have the Russian mob at my back.”

She just stares at him, eyes wide and wild with indignation and a fair bit of the classical ‘are you crazy’ look. But there’s no question, she knows that he’s serious. She also knows she can’t talk him out of it, like she couldn’t the last time.

“You better be careful,” she says through clenched teeth when she finally does speak, marching over and laying a hard kiss on his forehead before she walks out without a word. Probably best, so neither of them starts to cry. Matia saw him at his worst after he lost his leg, he knows she has a right to be scared but he’ll be more careful this time. He has to be.

“Alex?” Cowboy asks as he walks through the door. He looks worried, scared even. “Can I come on?”

“Yeah, come in,” Alex replies. Cowboy comes in slowly. His hat and mask is on, but Alex doesn’t mind. He never minds, especially now that he has to do what he does.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replies. “The Russians are pretty pissed, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

“Is this because-“

“No. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

Cowboy clearly doesn’t believe him, if the way he purses his lips is any indication. “Sure, I get stuck in their compound, you go in and use your name, and not two weeks later you get kidnapped and beaten up!”

“That was because-“

“And now you want to work with them? And hack for them when you lost your leg because of it the first time? How can you be so st-“

“Hey!” Alex interrupts. “You do not get to call me stupid, Cowboy. I got into trouble because of my dad, not because of you. It's my choice, not yours.”

He watches Cowboy bite his tongue, clenching his fists tightly in obvious annoyance. But he doesn’t say anything, breathing deeply for a few minutes before he relaxes his fists, his jaw following. Alex understands how he feels, he does, but Cowboy isn’t his keeper of any kind. He makes his own decisions.

“You don’t get to decide when you run around New York as a vigilante, protecting people left and right with no regards to yourself. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

He doesn’t expect Cowboy to kiss him. He just walks over, takes Alex’s face in his hands and kisses him. It’s sloppy, this side of too hard and feral, just a little bit painful to Alex’s bruised face. It’s perfect.

“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re hurt,” Cowboy says, pulling away.

Alex shakes his head, keeping him in place. “It’s perfect, please don't stop.”

Cowboy seems sceptical, but Alex doesn’t care. He pulls him back in, though he softens the kiss so it won’t hurt. Instead of hard it’s soft, instead of hurried it’s languid, instead of feral it’s tender. Painful turns way to heat, lazily curling up his spine and settling everywhere from his neck to his stomach. He sighs softly into the kiss, pulling Cowboy infinitely closer.

“Alex. As much as I love having your lips on mine, you’re hurt,” Cowboy says as he pulls back again. “And we both know Maria will kill us if we do anything in this backroom.”

Alex groans. “You pick now to be sensible?”

“I pick now to be scared of your best friend. I’m just… breaking. Not saying no.”

Alex sighs, nodding because he knows Cowboy is right. He also does have to remember that he doesn’t actually know who Cowboy is, yet.

“I need help, moving my rig back home. Will you help me?”

Cowboy gives him a long, hard look. It feels soul searching in many ways, but Alex endures it. For him. He’s admittedly surprised when Cowboy nods, but grateful.

———

He find another piece of paper hidden under his keyboard the next day, with the letter A.

[pastelwitchling]

I’d Remember You

“It’s a good thing we’re both level-headed people, otherwise this would be really scary,” Liz said, and Alex smiled.

He looked over his shoulder at the scientist, pacing the cave floor. Her fingers were covered with scars, her nails cut up and ruined from scratching at the rock walls, but still she looked for handholds, anything to hang onto.

“Good thing,” he muttered, squinting up at the small circle of open sky high above their heads. When he and Liz had walked the desert plains, looking for any sign of other pods that may have been saved and hidden, he had not expected to come across a burrow in the cave walls. He had expected even less to slip through one of them after trying to catch Liz who’d lost her footing.

Alex sat back against the cave wall, the pain in his leg on the fall down having been too much to help him stand for long. He put his head in his hands, and looked up to see Liz watching him with concern.

He chuckled. “You need to calm down.”

“This is all my fault,” Liz said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Alex—”

“Liz, I’m fine.”

“If I’d just watched where I was standing—”

“Seriously, you need to stop,” Alex said. “Michael and the others will find us, they’ll use their powers, and we’ll be out in no time – would you please stop pacing? You’re making me dizzy.”

“Sorry,” Liz said, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed tightly. A beat, two, then—“Do you need some water? I still have my bottle.”

“You do remember that I’m an Air Force captain, right?” Alex asked. “Believe it or not, I have dealt with worse than being stuck in a cave.”

Liz nodded to herself. “You’re really not scared at all?”

“Michael will come,” Alex said, leaning his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. The rocks poked his head, but he was so weary from the fall, barely managing to turn his body at the last second to land on his crouched legs, that he couldn’t muster the energy to move anymore. “You’ll see.”

“You believe in him,” Liz said. It wasn’t a question, but an observation. And it seemed to help take her mind off the situation, so Alex nodded.

“I trust him with my life,” he said. “Don’t worry, Liz. Everything’s going to be okay. You want to come sit next to me?”

Liz looked conflicted between wanting to take Alex’s offer, and afraid of looking weak. But her pant leg was torn and she was bleeding and there was a bruise on her cheek that was turning an alarming shade of purple, and Alex knew what it felt like to want protection and be afraid of asking for it.

He reached a hand out to her, and she hesitated for a second longer before crossing the unsteady grounds and taking it, latching onto his arm and clinging to him as they waited. He hummed his song quietly, the one he’d sang at the Wild Pony all those nights ago, the one that had given him the courage to seek something with Forrest, to kiss him. The one he had not sang since because of a cowboy that had decided not to stay. Still—

Alex heard Michael calling his name, and without even opening his eyes, the corners of his lips quirked up.

“Here comes the cavalry,” he muttered.

“Is that Michael?” Liz straightened, her eyes wide.

“Always the hero,” Alex said with a small smile.

“Alex!”

“Liz!” Max’s voice sounded.

“Alex, where are you?!”

Alex pushed himself off the cave wall as Liz stepped into the circle of light shining down from the only exit they had.

“Michael!” Liz called. “Max! We’re in here!”

“Liz?” Max’s head appeared in the opening, followed quickly by Michael’s.

“Where’s Alex?” Michael asked urgently. “Is he with you?”

“I’m right here,” Alex called, wincing as he stood. He covered his eyes with his hands at falling rubble from the cave ceiling. He narrowed his eyes at the rock. Was it about to collapse?

“Are you guys okay?” Max asked, and Liz nodded.

“Yeah, we’re fine, but . . . the footholds aren’t strong enough to carry us out.”

Max and Michael looked to each other, and Max nodded once, as if they’d just shared some silent plan.

“I’ll keep you guys up with my telekinesis,” Michael said.

“I’ll reach down,” Max said. “I can pull you guys up the rest of the way.”

“Hey, Max,” Alex called as Liz nodded and began to climb. “Watch your head. The ceiling doesn’t look stable to me.”

“Got it,” Max said.

Alex started to climb after Liz, but more rubble fell, and he stepped back, covering his eyes. “Alex?” Liz called worriedly, glancing over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex rubbed his face. “Look, Liz, you go on ahead of me.”

“What?!”

“If there’s too much vibration, the cave might collapse,” Alex said. “We should go one at a time.”

Michael leaned down. “If the cave is going to collapse, you’re not waiting, Alex. Climb.”

“Guerin—”

“Climb, private!”

Alex sighed, and followed Liz. They made it halfway before a lot more rubble fell, this time enough for everyone else to notice.

“Hurry,” Max said, stretching an arm out as far as he can go. Michael’s face had turned red with the effort of keeping both Alex and Liz up. Alex knew he wouldn’t hold out much longer.

“Alex,” Liz warned, and Alex put a hand on her back.

“Keep going, Liz,” he said, his fingers also stained with his blood and rubble from the sharp rocks. “I’m right behind you.”

Except he wasn’t. His leg ached so badly that his eyes burned with the strain of keeping himself up. A few more steps and he was starting to feel woozy, his breathing heavier, his grip weaker. Max reached for Liz, and Alex felt the cave vibrating with an impending attack.

Max may have been focused on Liz, but Michael’s eyes were on Alex. Somehow, Michael knew that Alex was struggling more than Liz was, and he was focusing on keeping the airman up. But Alex wouldn’t make it. The ceiling was about to collapse, and Liz was closest to the exit. If she didn’t get out now, those rocks would fall on both their heads.

Liz reached for Max, their fingers touched, more rubble fell, and Alex spotted a foothold high enough just for him to reach.

He caught Michael’s eye, unable to hold the contact for long before he forced himself up the foothold. He came up just behind Liz’s back with nothing to hold onto, but that was fine. He wasn’t looking to stay up.

With all of his strength, he pushed Liz up the rest of the way, just as the cave ceiling collapsed. Then several things happened. Liz got out on the other side of the rocks. Max caught her. Michael screamed for Alex, but it was too late. Alex was falling backwards, and just before he blacked out, he felt a searing pain in his head, the small bit of light disappeared, and someone, though he couldn’t tell who, was calling for him.

*

Michael couldn’t forget Alex’s face. The way he’d glanced at Michael before he’d shoved Liz through the exit, as if in quick, silent apology. But now, as Michael sat at Alex’s hospital bedside, the airman’s head wrapped in a white bandage, a respirator helping him breathe, the monitor’s steady beep beep beep, waiting for his Alex to wake up, Michael felt he could do nothing but mutter silent apologies himself into Alex’s fingers.

Alex had warned them, but Michael couldn’t hear him. Not when his airman’s life had been at risk. And now it was at risk again.

“Hey,” he heard Max’s voice, a hand on his shoulder. “You need to rest.”

“I’ll rest when he wakes up,” Michael said, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

“Michael,” Max said. “He’s asleep. He’s not going anywhere—”

“You heard Kyle,” he said without taking his eyes off Alex. “Severe head trauma.”

“Michael, that wasn’t your fault.”

“He tried to tell us, but I just couldn’t think straight seeing him down there.”

“I get it,” Max said. “I would’ve done the same for Liz. She’s ridden with guilt, too – Michael, you both can’t blame yourselves.”

“I’m not leaving him, Max,” Michael said. “When he wakes up, he’s going to find me right here.”

Max sounded like he wanted to argue, but Michael leaned forward on his knees, Alex’s hand clutched tightly in his, and his brother seemed to relent.

“All right,” Max whispered a moment later. “Well, Gregory’s on his way. He was frantic when I told him about Alex, so heads up on that.”

Michael heard Max leave the room, closing the door behind him, and he kissed Alex’s fingers. He tried closing his eyes, and saw only Alex’s body on the cave floor, lying in a pool of his own blood, his hair soaked red. And now he was covered in bandaged cuts, oiled-up bruises, and a bandage around his head that glared threateningly at Michael, as if to say that no one who had had so much damage to their head usually survived, and Alex would be no exception.

If he wakes up, Michael thought to anyone who would listen, if you give him back to me, I’ll do anything. Please, just give him back to me.

               Hours later, Gregory arrived, swinging the door wide open, breathing heavily. “Where is he, where’s . . .” his words trailed off as he spotted Alex on the bed.

               And so Michael and Gregory silently sat, on opposite ends of Alex’s bed, Gregory’s head in his hands, Michael’s hold on Alex’s hand relentless. Forrest, they were told, would not be coming because he was out of town and was better off not knowing.

               “Alex will wake up,” Kyle had said. “There’s no point in calling Forrest here.” But even to Michael, the doctor sounded more hopeful than certain.

               That was why, when Alex’s eyes fluttered open around dusk, his fingers twitching in Michael’s, everyone (because everyone else had soon come to join Michael and Gregory in their wait) was instantly on their feet.

               Kyle had rushed in almost at once, and helped ease the respirator off Alex.

               “Hey, buddy,” he said, his voice soft. “How are you feeling?”

               Alex’s brows were furrowed with pain as Kyle helped him sit up against his pillows. Michael instinctively took his hand the moment Kyle had stepped back, and Alex looked startled.

               “Do you remember what happened?”

               Alex slowly shook his head, his eyes still on Michael’s hand tightly gripping his own. Michael probably should’ve let go then, but he couldn’t. In fact, if not for the slight frown on Alex’s lips, Michael would’ve been willing to slide into bed with him, to hold him tightly in his arms. He thought he showed great restraint by refraining.

               “Alex, we were in a cave,” Liz said quietly, coming up to Michael’s side. “You saved me. You really don’t remember?”

               Alex blinked. “I . . . saved you?” Liz nodded, and Michael touched Alex’s cheek.

               “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Don’t force yourself.”

               “Um,” was all Alex said turning away from Michael’s touch, as if uncomfortable by it. “Sorry, could you . . .?” He trailed off, gesturing at his hand caught between both of Michael’s, and slowly, his heart quickly turning to lead, Michael let him go.

               “I’m sorry, Alex,” Michael said. “I should’ve been able to save you. I – I should’ve listened –”

               “You were there?” Alex asked. “At the cave?”

               “Yeah, Alex,” Max nodded, frowning. “So was I.”

               Alex winced, reaching up to touch his head only to feel a bandage wrapped tightly around it instead. He turned to Gregory, looking more and more confused. “Were you there, too?”

               “No,” Gregory said, taking a seat beside Alex, putting an arm around his shoulders. “No, little brother, but I should’ve been. Problems tend to follow the Manes men wherever we go.”

               Alex’s frown deepened. “Manes . . . men. . . .” He was starting to look panicked. Michael reached for him again, but he flinched away as if the cowboy’s touch burned him. “I don’t . . . uh . . .”

               “Alex, hey, what’s going on?” Gregory tried as Alex even turned away from his brother.

               “I don’t remember anything.”

               “No, hey, Alex,” Kyle tried, putting his hands on Alex’s shoulders to calm him down. “We know, it’s okay, don’t force yourself to remember.”

               “No, I – I don’t know anything!” Alex said desperately, and Kyle’s expression was confused for only a second longer before it fell.

               “Wait a second, wait, it’s okay. Hey, look at me,” he said. Once he had Alex’s attention, he asked, “Do you know what your name is?”

               “Uh . . . I . . .” he stammered, then looked to Gregory, and tried, “A-Alex Manes?”

               Kyle clenched his jaw. “Did you remember that on your own? Or is it because that’s what we’ve been calling you?”

               Michael’s heart quickly turned to stone, and he could hear the word, “No,” escape his lips in a whisper as Alex asked, “That’s . . . not my name?”

               Kyle’s hands fell back to his sides. “You don’t know who any of us are, do you?”

               Alex miserably shook his head. Liz covered her mouth with her hands, Max put a comforting arm around her, but Alex looked terrified of everyone around him. Gregory slowly moved off the bed, his dark eyes on his brother, and Michael tried moving closer, but Alex scooted back to avoid him.

               Then he seemed to realize he had only one leg. And he screamed.

               Everything happened very quickly after that. Michael tried to comfort Alex, but Max and Liz had dragged him out. Gregory helped Kyle still Alex while they sedated him, and as Alex’s room door closed, Michael saw Alex’s face, terrified and streaked with tears.

               It felt like days later when Kyle and Gregory emerged, though Michael knew it couldn’t have been more than an hour. Michael was on his feet in a second, the white wall having given him enough back pains that he was sure he wouldn’t be properly asleep for weeks, Alex’s expression after he’d awoken the worst haunting of all.

               “He’s asleep for now,” Kyle said when Michael, Max, and Liz crowded him. “Should be for the rest of the night. You guys should go home.”

               “What happened to him?” Liz asked. “Has he got amnesia now?”

               “I’m going to need a second opinion,” Kyle said. “Neurology isn’t really my specialty. And he’s going to need an MRI, and—”

               “Valenti,” Michael said through grit teeth. “Give us your best guess.”

               Kyle sighed. “He sustained a major head injury when he fell. Best guess? It’s pretty simple; he’s suffering memory loss.”

               “How long will it last?” Max asked.

               “Well, usually this kind of thing goes away after a few days. In most cases, after a few weeks. But some cases . . .”

               “Yeah?” Liz prompted.

               Kyle shook his head. “Look, Alex is a war vet. He has enough memories he wants to keep hidden away, he’s been through enough trauma. Usually, the brain takes to blocking a lot of that stuff out, but with Alex, he’s barely been keeping it at bay. All I’m saying is, it may take a little longer for him.”

               “Can I take him home?” Gregory asked softly.

               “No, I can—” Michael started, but Kyle was already turning him down.

               “I’m sorry, Guerin, really, but,” he sighed. “It may be better for his brother to take him. We don’t want to force the memories back, that’ll just put a strain on the brain. And besides, Gregory probably has more happy memories with Alex than you do. He’s already freaking out with finding out that he has one leg, we should keep his trip down memory lane as smooth as possible.”

               It meant something, it really did, when a Manes man could be said to have more happy memories with Alex than Michael did, and then have those words be true.

               Eventually, Max and Liz were convinced to leave, give Alex space, but Michael stayed watching from the corners. He watched as Alex was led out of the room, leaning against Gregory as he tested his weight on his prosthetic, the prosthetic he’s worn for years, and the one he struggled with now.

               Michael watched as Alex asked question after question, Gregory answering patiently and with kindness.

               “Where are we going?”

               “Your house.”

               “But . . . I don’t remember where that is.”

               “It’s okay, I do.”

               “Are you staying with me?”

               “If you want me to.”

               “I want you to.”

               “Then, I’m staying with you.”

               Slowly, Alex got used to Gregory brushing his bangs away, to holding onto his brother’s arm, to leaning more of his weight against him. Gregory handed back a clipboard of paperwork to a nurse, and led Alex out to his car. Michael then got into his own and followed.

               His hands were tight on the wheel, his gaze focused straight ahead. He stayed well behind Gregory’s car and parked behind a cluster of trees as the Manes brothers came to a stop. They both stepped out, and Michael watched as Alex looked around at his home, completely unfamiliar with it.

               “I live here?” Alex asked, and Gregory’s smile turned small as he nodded. He reached an arm out, and Alex hesitated before coming to his side, allowing his brother to put an arm around his shoulders. He gave Alex his own spare key, told him to go on ahead and make himself comfortable, and disappeared around the corner.

               Michael peered closer around the fence, watching as Alex stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. He was just starting to think that the old Alex would never have kept his home open, even with his brother right behind him, when he felt someone yank him back, and he was pushed against the wall.

               “What the—” Michael started, but once he saw Gregory, he relaxed.

               “Damn it, Guerin,” Gregory sighed. “You’re following us now?”

               “You knew?”

               Gregory raised a brow. “You do know the whole Manes family is military, right? There’s not much we don’t know.”

               “I want to see Alex,” he said, knowing what Gregory’s answer would be before the words even left his lips.

               “You heard Kyle,” Gregory said, not unkindly. “You don’t have a lot of great memories with him—”

               “I won’t remind him of anything, I’ll just quietly sit there,” Michael said, and he knew he sounded desperate, but Alex didn’t remember who he was or what they meant to each other, and being away from the airman had been agonizing before, but Alex needed him now, and Michael needed to be near him.

               “Please, Greg,” Michael tried. “I just – I just want to be next to him. If his boyfriend can’t be here—”

               “No, Forrest isn’t Alex’s boyfriend,” Gregory said dismissively. “They’ve just gone out a few times, Alex told me – but that’s not the point!” he added quickly as Michael’s expression turned surprised and hopeful despite himself.

               “He doesn’t know who I am,” Michael said, aware that he was pleading and not caring. “He won’t let me touch him. Please. I won’t say a word.”

               Gregory searched his face, then sighed. He pointed a finger warningly. “Not a word, Guerin.”

               It pained Michael how much Gregory sounded like his brother, how much he reminded Michael of Alex, and, desperate to see the airman now more than ever, he nodded and quietly followed Gregory into the house.

               “Alex?” Gregory called as Michael closed the door behind them.

               “Uh – here,” Alex called back, and they found him sitting in front of the keyboard in his living room, his hands curled to fists on his lap as he stared at the keys.

               “Hey,” Gregory said gently, coming to sit beside him. “You okay?”

               “I – what is he doing here?” Alex demanded as he turned and caught sight of Michael. He stood quickly, the piano bench keeping him from moving further away, but Gregory had already stood beside him, his hand on his shoulder.

               “Whoa, calm down, brother, he’s just here to check on you.”

               “Well, are,” Alex started, glancing between Michael and Gregory, “are we friends or something?”

               Michael nodded silently, pressing his lips together. He hated this; seeing Alex stand so far away from him, missing him so badly and not being able to touch him, the apprehension in his eyes. Michael knew it wouldn’t have helped, but all he wanted was to take Alex in his arms and never let him go again.

               “Alex,” Gregory said, “Michael was the one who tried to save you in the cave. He cares about you.”

               Alex’s shoulders slumped. “And you were at the hospital. You looked so relieved when I woke up. I’m sorry, I – I freaked out, and—”

               “Don’t be sorry,” Michael said, despite the warning look from Gregory. “I always hold on a little too tightly to you. I can’t help it.”

               Gregory pinched the bridge of his nose, but a faint pink blush touched Alex’s cheeks, so Michael was struggling to regret any of his decisions.

               “Right,” Alex said tentatively, then scooted out from behind the bench and sat down on the armchair beside it, leaving no room for anyone to sit beside him. Michael took a seat at the edge of the couch, closest to him.

               Alex scrunched his shoulders, hugging himself as he gestured at the piano with his chin. “Do I know how to play that?”

               “Yes,” both Gregory and Michael said at the same time, amused.

               “Very well, I might add,” Gregory said. “If Open Mic Night at the Wild Pony was any indication.”

               “I don’t know what that is,” Alex confessed.

               “The local bar,” Michael explained, and saw the briefest expression flicker on Alex’s face before it was gone. He changed the topic quickly. “You know how to play the guitar, too. You’re pretty much the smartest guy I know.”

               Alex gave him a half-smile without meeting his eyes. “I don’t really feel like the smartest guy right now.”

               “Hey,” Gregory said. “This is temporary. You’ll remember everything soon enough. Until then, try to enjoy it.”

               Alex scoffed. “Ignorant bliss?”

               “Ignorant bliss,” Gregory nodded.

               Michael thought that nothing could’ve possibly been worse than Alex enjoying the time that he couldn’t remember him.

               Alex’s brows furrowed slightly. “Was my life really that bad?” he joked, though his voice was quiet. “Before?”

               Gregory sighed. “It was getting better. The Manes family is . . . kind of cursed.” Alex laughed, and even Michael couldn’t help a begrudging smile. “But after dad died – hell, even before he died, your life was changing, Alex. You’ve always been the strongest of us.” He ruffled Alex’s hair. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

               Alex exhaled a shaky breath, smiling nervously. “It’s – it’s a lot.”

               Michael looked to Gregory, silently asking for permission, and when Gregory nodded, Michael reached out slowly to touch Alex’s hand. Alex reacted no differently than he would’ve to anyone else’s touch.

               “I’m going to help you,” Michael said.

               “We all are,” Gregory added.

               “That’s nice of you,” Alex said, and covered Michael’s hand with his own. He didn’t hold Michael’s gaze or smile softly at him or blush again, as he normally did. It was as if Michael was a complete stranger. “We must’ve been really close.���

               “Yeah,” Michael said, surprised at the lump in his throat. “You could say that.”

               And so the time passed, with the three of them seated together in the wide living room, going over some of Alex’s memories as a child. Alex’s eyes were distant, his expression polite, his brows furrowed at times when Gregory tried to evade the topic of their father and why Alex acted and dressed certain ways as a teenager. Michael smiled, and pretended that every time Alex casually touched his shoulder or reached for Michael only to quickly realize what he’d done and pull away with an apology, that it didn’t stab at his heart a little bit.

               When night came, Alex began to doze off, and Gregory told him where everything was so that he could prepare for bed. An hour later, Gregory came back into the living room, his brows furrowed, his lips pursed.

               “What’s wrong?” Michael asked, standing, but Gregory was already shaking his head.

               “He’s just asleep.”

               “That’s . . . a good thing, isn’t it?”

               He shrugged, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He looked to be deep in thought. “Alex never sleeps. PTSD usually keeps him up. I thought you’d know that.”

               But Michael, who had been processing that answer, realized too late that he was being spoken to. “Huh?” he asked distractedly. “How would I?”

               Gregory blinked and looked away. “My bad. I just thought you guys had . . . you know . . .”

               “We have,” Michael said almost defensively. It was ridiculous to want to assure Alex’s brother that he and Alex had had sex, but the idea of Gregory thinking that Alex had only slept with Forrest was bothering him beyond reason.

               “And you’ve seen him sleep?”

               Michael opened his mouth to answer, and shut it again. Now that he thought about it; had he ever seen Alex sleep? Every time he’d woken after one of their nights, Alex had almost always been out of bed, or he was awake, watching Michael instead.

               “Well, good thing,” Gregory said airily, clearly regretting having brought up the topic at all. “I should make a call to the school,” he muttered, more so to himself. “Tell them I won’t be able to come in next week.”

               “You’re staying in Roswell?”

               “Alex needs me,” Gregory said casually, as if he needed no other reason to leave work and his home and stay in the town he hated as much as Alex did. “But you should go home, get some rest.”

               “I don’t need rest,” Michael said.

               “Haven’t you been up for a while?”

               He shrugged. “I’m not tired.”

               Gregory’s shoulders slumped. “Guerin, he’s asleep, I’m here, he’s fine.”

               “Well, what if he wakes up later?” Michael asked. “What if he needs something?”

               “He doesn’t remember who we are,” Gregory said patiently. “He’s not a kid. And I’m here to watch over him.”

               Michael sighed. “I just think I should—”

               “You may not get sick,” Gregory cut him off, “but you’re not immune to exhaustion. You need to go home.”

               Michael looked desperately between Gregory and the hallway through which Alex had left earlier to go to bed. He relented eventually, forcing himself into his truck with the promise from Gregory that if anything – anything at all – were to happen to Alex, Michael would be the first to be notified.

               He reached his airstream and couldn’t imagine himself falling asleep, but as soon as he fell on his bed and closed his eyes, the darkness engulfed him. Michael woke almost instantly, in a cold sweat.

               “Alex,” he breathed, thinking of the airman in his nightmares, the one that had smiled kindly to him, had walked into Michael’s embrace, had allowed Michael to kiss him until neither of them could breathe – and the one that had shot Michael’s heart and killed him.

               He hastily looked out the window and saw the gold light pouring through the blinds. He muttered a curse and quickly scrambled out of bed, washed up, changed his shirt, and got into his truck.

               “What’re you doin’, boy?” Sanders called, and Michael’s hand on the gearshift stilled.

               “I gotta go, Sanders!”

               “What for? We’ve got work!”

               “I need to go see a friend—”

               “Yeah, yeah, a friend,” Sanders grumbled. Then, louder, “Max and Isobel called, told me all about your friend! He came by here earlier.”

               “What?” Michael frowned, turning the engine off to hear him better. “Did you say Alex came here?”

               “I’m old, boy, don’t make me repeat myself,” Sanders huffed. “Yeah, he came by with his brother and that doctor girl.”

               “Why the hell didn’t you wake me?”

               “Fix your tone when you talk to me!” he scolded. “And I tried to wake you, but when Manes heard you were sleeping, he said to leave you. Said he didn’t want to bother you. Never thought I’d like a Manes man, but those two sure are somethin’ else, aren’t they?”

               “Sanders,” Michael grit out. “Focus. How long ago did they leave?”

               “Eh?” Sanders squinted with his one good eye. “Oh, about an hour ago.”

               “Did they say where they were going?”

               “What’d you think, I got time to stand around and ask them about their personal lives? They came by to get a look at the junkyard, jog the poor kid’s memory, then they left.”

               “And?” Michael pressed. “Did Alex remember anything?”

               “Hell if I know,” Sanders muttered. “I went back to work, like you should be doing – hey, where are you going?!” he called as Michael turned the car back on and rapidly drove backwards and out of the junkyard.

               Michael returned to Alex’s house, but saw that Gregory’s car was gone. He knocked on the door, called for Alex, but no one responded. His heart hammering, he drove to the Crashdown Café next, and to his relief, found Alex laughing in a booth beside Gregory, a milkshake and fries in front of him. Across from him sat Liz and Isobel.

               “And then,” Liz tried to say through her laughter, “this big guy, covered in tattoos and piercings, just kept petting your head, looked me straight in the eye, and said, ‘Honey, I think your little brother needs to go home.’”

               “No!” Alex exclaimed, laughing. “No, no, no, you are making that up! I wore nail polish and eyeliner in high school?”

               “You did,” Isobel nodded. “We weren’t friends then, but you pulled it off, I promise.”

               “That’s reassuring,” Alex said, then turned as his eyes caught Michael’s. “Hey, uh . . .” his brows furrowed in concentration.

               Michael’s heart sank, but he forced his lips into an amused smirk. “Michael. Guerin.”

               “Michael,” Alex nodded, and Michael tried to pretend it wasn’t weird to hear Alex say his first name so casually and with such a carefree smile. “We went to the junkyard! You were asleep.”

               “Yeah, I know,” Michael said, immensely relieved when Liz relinquished her seat to get back to her shift. He took her place, and Alex’s folded hands on the table didn’t move back. “Did you remember anything?”

               Alex hummed. “I think so,” he said, and refused to say anything else. “What about our parents?” he asked with the air of someone eager to change the subject. “Can’t they help me?”

               “Uh,” Gregory hesitated, glancing at Michael and Isobel, as if this was the last place he had ever wanted to talk about their family history. “Mom’s out of town, I thought it’d be better if she didn’t know what happened. She can’t really come back yet, so—”

               “It would just make her worry,” Alex finished. “Better not, then. I’m sure my memories will come back soon.” He smiled. “And dad?”

               Gregory said nothing a moment, then, “He’s dead.”

               Alex’s smile dimmed slightly. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Did I know him?”

               When Gregory and Isobel didn’t answer, Michael said, “His memories won’t come back if you keep them from him.”

               Alex looked to his brother, who was shooting daggers at Michael with his eyes, a frown at his lips. “I take it . . . we’re not close?”

               Gregory merely shook his head, his lips pursed. “Dad lived a certain way, with certain beliefs, and he wanted us to follow along with everything he said. You didn’t.”

               Alex looked down at his hands on the table. He didn’t look bitter or angry or any of the emotions Michael had come to associate with Alex when his father was mentioned. Just curious.

               “Hence, the nail polish and eyeliner,” Alex muttered, and smiled at everyone’s surprised looks. “Please, I was so clearly rebelling against someone.”

               “The trials of being a Manes Man,” Michael said with a smirk, and Alex’s expression faltered.

               “Manes . . . man,” he said quietly, his brows furrowed. He repeated those two words, his eyes slowly drifting out of focus.

               Gregory frowned. “Alex? Are you okay?”

               Alex shut his eyes, reaching up to touch his head. “There are . . . no Manes men left.”

               Michael froze. There are no Manes men left. Jesse’s last words after Gregory had shot him. After Jesse himself had beaten Alex and almost unwittingly killed his entire bloodline.

               “Alex,” Michael leaned forward. He had been there with Alex that night, words had been said, Michael had refused to leave Alex behind. “Do you remember something?”

               “Uh,” Alex put his head in his hands. “Um . . . dad . . . was . . . ah!” he winced, pressing the bottoms of his palms against his temples, his expression pained.

               “Alex, hey, it’s okay,” Gregory said quickly.

               “Yeah, don’t force yourself,” Isobel tried.

               “A toolshed,” Alex winced. “And a hammer. And blood, there was so much blood, how could he do that?!”

               “He’s panicking,” Gregory said, looking around desperately, as if forgetting that they were in a diner instead of the hospital. “We need to sedate him.”

               “Isobel,” Michael said quickly. “Get into his head.”

               “What? I can’t do that!”

               “He was screaming!” Alex cried, pressing harder against his temples. The few people there were starting to look around, Arturo and Liz looked over with concern from the counter. “I couldn’t save him!”

               “Guerin’s right,” Gregory said urgently, pulling Alex in against his chest. “Isobel, you have to. Please!”

               With a nervous look at Michael, Isobel reached out and took Alex’s hand. Despite the fear in her eyes, when she spoke, her voice was steady and soothing.

               “Alex,” she said softly. “You’re calm, you’re not afraid. The bad memories can’t hurt you here.”

               A tear fell down Alex’s cheek, but as Isobel held his gaze, his eyes seemed to come back into focus. “He was attacked . . . because of me.”

               “Not because of you,” Isobel said before Michael could manage it, which he was grateful for. He didn’t think he could breathe as he watched Alex, let alone speak. “Alex, you’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

               “Rest,” Alex repeated in a whisper. Slowly, he began to nod. “I need to rest.”

               Isobel assured him that he was right, as if it wasn’t her own command that he was following. Alex nodded off against Gregory’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering halfway shut. When it was clear he wouldn’t freak out again, Isobel slowly released his hand.

               “You okay?” Gregory asked quietly.

               Alex said nothing, staring off into the distance, and had his eyes not been open, Michael would’ve thought Isobel had put him to sleep.

               “What’d you do to him?” Michael asked her.

               She shook her head, her jaw clenched as she swallowed. “His mind’s like a freaking minefield. I can’t go back in there. There are so many traumatic memories, it’s like his brain is on overdrive trying to sort through everything.”

               Isobel scoffed, though her eyes had turned glassy and her voice cracked. If Michael had not known his sister so well, he might’ve missed it, but he did, so he couldn’t.

               “He’s always so put together,” she muttered, her eyes on the airman. “Always taking care of everything. I had no idea. . . . I never thought I’d say this, but . . . poor Alex.”

               “No,” Michael said right away. He knew Alex, whatever this version of him remembered, and he knew his airman would’ve wanted nothing less than to be pitied. As far as Michael was concerned, Alex was the strongest person he knew. Hearing about him spoken as anything otherwise was insulting.

               “He’s fine,” Michael said, even as Alex’s eyes closed for several seconds before they opened again. “He’ll be fine.”

               “You promised me you wouldn’t say anything,” Gregory said sternly. “Guerin, you almost reminded him of dad.”

               “That toolshed had followed the both of us around for a decade,” Michael defended. “Believe me, if he didn’t remember now, he would’ve remembered later.”

               “Still,” Isobel cut in as it became obvious that Gregory was willing to argue. “We have to be more careful. Remembering clearly hurts him.”

               “So, what?” Michael asked. “Keep the memories away forever? Only let him remember the good stuff? How long do you think that’ll last? What about when Greg needs to go back to work on the reservation?”

               “I’m thinking of taking Alex with me,” Gregory muttered absentmindedly into Alex’s hair. “I think it’ll do him some good. Getting out of Roswell, being in the place where our mom grew up.”

               “If nothing else,” Isobel added comfortingly, “it’ll be away from his worst memories.”

               “No, no way,” Michael said, his hand reaching for Alex, then he realized the airman had probably forgotten any of them were there, locked in his own haze, and his fingers curled to a fist on the table. “He’s not leaving town.”

               “Are you not listening to me?” Gregory said. “It’s better for him. And that’s what we have to think of now, Guerin; the best thing for Alex.”

               “The best thing for him is here,” Michael said desperately. “With me. Look, no one is going to take better care of Alex than me—”

               “And you think you guys will just go back to dating or whatever you were doing before? You’re a total stranger to him, he’s not going to be comfortable around you!”

               “You’re a stranger, too!”

               “But his worst memories aren’t tied up with me,” Gregory said, and immediately looked apologetic at having said it. After a moment of utter silence at the table, the rest of the diner turned to background noise, Gregory quietly said, “I’m sorry, Guerin, I am. I know how much this must hurt you—”

               “No, you don’t,” Michael grit out, his fists so tight that he felt his nails digging crescents into his palms.

               “But,” Gregory continued as if Michael hadn’t spoken, “Alex remembers more about me than he does you. You guys haven’t spoken in months. You dated one of his best friends for, like, a year, didn’t you?”

               “That wasn’t—”

               “I don’t care,” Gregory cut him off. “I don’t know you, Guerin, you can do whatever you want, but I know Alex, and I know the last thing he needs is one more reason to give up. So, please, just give him some time. Okay?”

               Michael clenched his jaw, but leaned back in his seat, pursing his lips. His eyes fell on Alex who he saw was watching him back, his brows furrowed slightly, and whether that was because of the painful migraine, or because of something else, Michael didn’t know.

               When Isobel went to the bathroom, Alex slowly reached across the table, and Michael, hesitant, reached the rest of the way. Alex squeezed his fingers weakly as if to say, I’m sorry I can’t be with you anymore.

               Michael felt that lump in his throat return and threaten to suffocate him. He let Alex’s hand go when he had to step out for Isobel and wouldn’t dare take it again.

               So for a week, Michael stayed away from Alex, watching only from afar as Alex spent time at the diner, talked to friends, visited the museum. Michael had expected him to regain some important memories in the UFO emporium, but when he came out, he had worn an unreadable expression for a moment, then shook it off with a smile and resumed his day with the others.

               Most of the time, he sat with Liz who seemed determined never to leave his side aside from shifts. Michael assumed it was because she blamed herself for what had happened to Alex. He thought it was ridiculous, as he was sure Alex would’ve, but having someone constantly at Alex’s side, even when Gregory had to return to the reservation that following Sunday night to prepare a room for Alex, made Michael feel better.

               The next day, Forrest had come back, and Michael saw – from behind his own truck’s windshield – that the historian was not thrown off by Alex’s accident, but happy to help him in any way he could. Michael’s hands clenched on the steering wheel, and he watched as Forrest held his arms out for Alex, the way Alex easily stepped into them and wrapped his own arms around Forrest’s waist, the way Forrest made them sway on their feet as they hugged tightly.

               Forrest and Alex then spent the rest of the day in the diner with Forrest talking animatedly, waving his hands around, undoubtedly telling Alex about all of their interactions since the day they met. Michael wondered if Forrest might lie about some of the details, then realized that was insanely stupid and that he needed to calm down.

               Still, Michael pushed himself out of his car, unable to help but make his way into the Crashdown with every brush of Forrest’s fingers against Alex’s jaw or hair or hands.

               When he came in, he expected Alex’s eyes to jump to him as they always did when a stranger entered the building, but this Alex didn’t have his memories or trauma from war. This Alex didn’t fear strangers or jump at sudden sounds of the bell above the door jingling or keep his eyes on all the entrances and exits to a place before he sat down.

               Michael went to the counter, glancing at Alex every so often, until he felt someone hit his shoulder.

               “What’re you doing here?” Liz said, her all-knowing eyes boring into his.

               Michael held up his hands in mock surrender, plastering a smirk that felt forced with the sound of Alex’s laugh in the background. “I’m just hungry. Can I get a burger, please?”

               Liz looked between Michael and the Alex who still hadn’t noticed that the cowboy was even there, and sighed. “Sure,” she said. “But just—” she huffed. “Don’t go near him. I’m serious, Michael,” she said when Michael laughed. “Gregory put me in charge of taking care of him, and he said, ‘Don’t let Guerin near him, whatever it takes.’ So, please—”

               “I won’t go near him,” Michael said with a slight edge to his voice. He was getting really sick of being treated like some infectious disease that would kill Alex if he touched him. Didn’t they know that no one cared more about Alex than he did?

               But Liz wasn’t Alex, no one was, and so no one could read Michael’s thoughts or sense his concerns or anger the way Alex always managed to.

               And so with a sad upward tilt her lips, Liz went to the back to get his order. Almost right away, Michael felt someone touch his arm.

               “Hey,” Alex said, smiling cheerfully, his hands folded playfully behind his back. He looked so carefree, so full of laughter, that Michael almost didn’t recognize him.

               “Uh – hi,” he said, and glanced to the back where Liz was too busy talking to one of the cooks to notice them together. He should’ve ignored Alex, should’ve made some excuse to leave, but the airman smelled like wood and maple syrup, and Michael hadn’t been close to him in almost two weeks, and technically speaking, he wasn’t breaking any rules because he wasn’t the one going near Alex, it was the other way around.

               “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

               “I was – uh – busy,” he said, then, as an afterthought, added, “Sorry.”

               Alex shook his head. “I know my brother told you to stay away from me.”

               Michael raised a brow. “If you know that, then why’d you come over here?”

               Alex’s smile faltered. “Because I saw you the second you came in. I always see you when you come in, even when I don’t know who you are. I want to know why.”

               Michael glanced at Forrest only to find that the historian had left. Alex followed his gaze and shrugged. “So? Will you help me?”

               Michael looked down, huffing a chuckle. He scratched his cheek and said, “You know, if you were Alex, my Alex, you’d know that you never had to ask me for anything. I pretty much do whatever you tell me to.”

               Alex narrowed his eyes as he searched Michael’s face. “No,” he said, slightly amused. “You don’t. I remember that much. I remember you saying no, but I can’t remember what for.” He laughed when Michael looked surprised. “See? I always remember more when it comes to you. So I’m going to ask you again. Will you help me, Michael?”

               Michael hesitated, looked again to where Liz had been, and saw that she had spotted them. She was trying to excuse herself quickly from the conversation with the cook, but Michael had already taken Alex’s wrist and was leading him towards the door. The airman looked startled, but followed along. Michael was glad to see his motor skills had come back to him.

               “First of all,” Michael said as he burst through the door, pulling Alex along behind him, “you don’t call me Michael. Not really. You always call me by my last name.”

               “Why do I do that?” Alex asked, and Michael shrugged.

               “You always have. It’s our thing.”

               “Our thing – ow, slow down!” Alex said, and Michael turned and caught him just as he stumbled against his chest.

               They stood there a moment, beside Michael’s truck, lost in each other. Alex was panting, his hands curled to fists against Michael’s chest, his lips all but pressed to Michael’s collarbone.

               “Where are we going?” Alex asked quietly.

               “To get your memories back,” Michael said into his hair, his eyes almost fluttering at the touch. It had been too long since he’d held Alex. “Come on. Get in.”

               Alex obediently did as he was told, sliding into the passenger’s seat just as Liz came out of the diner, looking panicked.

               “I don’t get it,” Alex shook his head, watching Liz with furrowed brows as Michael sped off. “If you were evil, they would’ve told me. But they obviously like you. So why doesn’t anyone want us together?”

               “Because we hurt each other,” Michael said as he drove off and down the road. “We always have. We’re kind of cursed.”

               Alex laughed. “Oh us, too, huh? I don’t think so.”

               “Well,” Michael smirked, unable to help it, “you wouldn’t remember anyway, so.”

               Alex whistled quietly, but when he spoke, he was smiling. “Low blow.”

               Michael laughed himself, and when he looked over at Alex, he saw him leaning back comfortably in his seat, sighing contentedly. His own smile faltered at the sight. “You’re so much . . . happier now.”

               “And I wasn’t happy before?”

               Michael considered this. “Not that I can remember, actually,” he said. “I think the only time I ever saw you laugh was . . . in the toolshed. That didn’t have a happy ending, though.”

               “That toolshed,” Alex sighed. “A lot’s happened there. Gregory showed it to me, you know. He said you and I destroyed it.”

               “We did,” Michael said, waiting with bated breath for Alex’s reaction.

               But Alex only hummed, and slumped down in his seat, pulling his left knee up against the dashboard. Michael didn’t know why he was expecting him to care; this Alex knew nothing of their history, and even if he did, it wasn’t as if he had the same feelings and emotions connected to everything.

               “You know,” Michael said before he could help it, “the old you had years to deal with this stuff. To accept the kind of man your father was. The kind of men your brothers were. You don’t have that kind of time.”

               Alex raised a brow. “You think I’ll explode if I learn too much? Because I’ve already had this conversation.”

               “You won’t explode,” Michael said. “You’ll be fine. But the last time, I pushed you away because of all of that. And you handled it fine. In fact, some might say you were better off without me.”

He said so with a smile, but Alex turned his head against his seat, searching Michael’s face with his dark eyes. He reached over and took Michael’s hand in his own.

Michael cleared his throat, but he held on to Alex’s hand. “It was like one thing at a time. Now it’s all going to hit you at once.”

“You’re worried about me,” Alex noted.

Michael shook his head, feeling a smile tug at his lips despite himself. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he laughed.

“Like . . . like . . .” Like you love me. It made the reality all the more painful, and even worse when Michael knew that the second Alex remembered who he was, he would put distance between them again.

“Where are we going anyway?” Alex asked, clearly sensing Michael’s desire to change the subject. It was a comfort to know he could still do that; still read Michael to some extent.

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know, actually.”

“Just thought you’d kidnap me and drive us around till the gas runs out?” Alex asked, smiling.

“They weren’t leaving me any other choice,” Michael said.

“It’s nice,” Alex said. “So many of them care about me. I don’t understand what they’re scared of me remembering.”

Michael’s grin faltered. “Maybe it’s not always like this.”

Alex raised a brow. “People don’t always care about me?”

“Not as much as they should,” Michael said before he could help himself. Then, he looked over to Alex and saw a small smile at his lips. “You’re not mad?”

Alex shrugged slightly, helplessly. “I don’t really know anyone. And I think it would be worse if I knew anything about my life, but everyone just feels like a stranger. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft.

Michael realized then that his jaw had been visibly clenched, his brows furrowed. He cooled his features, plastering a smile on his lips. He automatically brought Alex’s hand up to his fingers and kissed them.

“Don’t be sorry,” Michael mumbled against his fingers. “I’m right here. And we’ll fix it, Alex. I promise.”

Alex didn’t pull away or seem the least bit bothered by Michael’s hands on him now. “Fix me, you mean.”

“No, not you,” Michael said. “Never you.”

Alex turned his hand in Michael’s hold and held onto his fingers. “Something about you, Guerin. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Michael’s heart jumped in his chest. “I think I know where to take you.”

                 “Liz is pissed at you, you know,” Maria said the second Michael and Alex had gone through the doors of the Wild Pony. She had her hands on her hips, but the anger in her voice was undermined by the concern in her eyes as they fell on Alex.

               She reached out for the airman who, startled, stepped back from her. Maria halted in her tracks, hurt crossing her expression only barely before it disappeared and she smiled kindly. “Sorry, uh, force of habit.”

               “Oh,” Alex nodded, then, “How many friends do I have?”

               “A lot,” Maria said, clearly choking but making an effort to smile.

               Alex raised a brow. “You’re not gonna cry, are you? A lot of people have already cried.”

               “No,” Maria said with a huff, shaking her shoulders out. “I’m not going to cry. God, this is weird.”

               “No kidding,” Alex muttered, looking around the bar as if hoping for his memories to reveal themselves in the walls.

               “Michael, Liz has been calling all of us to know if we’ve seen you,” Maria said, throwing glances at Alex every so often. “What am I supposed to tell her?” she demanded.

               “That you have no idea where we are!” Michael smirked. “Alex needs me if he’s going to remember everything.”

               “But Gregory said—”

               “Gregory is handling his brother with safety gloves,” Michael said. “Alex needs someone who isn’t afraid of breaking him. He remembers more around me anyway, don’t you, Alex?”

               But it was as if Alex couldn’t hear him, his attention on something behind them as he hummed. Michael’s eyes narrowed. That song. . . .

               “What’re you singing?” he asked quickly, and Alex, surprised at Michael’s reaction, blinked.

               “What’re you talking about?”

               “That song you were humming just now.”

               “Oh,” Alex said as if he didn’t realize he’d been humming at all. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just some song.”

               But it wasn’t just some song, Michael thought. It was the song. The song Alex had written and composed himself, the song he’d gotten up in front of an entire bar of cowboys to sing, the song he wrote about himself and Michael and everything they were.

               Alex, however, didn’t seem to find any significance in it other than a tune stuck in his head.

               “Hey, what’s that?” he asked, pointing at one of the instruments in the back.

               Maria came to stand beside him, her arms crossed, but her eyes going to Alex’s face so often that she may as well have been staring at him. Despite her smile, Michael didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so sad.

               “The keyboard we use for Open Mic nights. You remember it?”

               Alex brows furrowed. “I think so. Gregory told me I played piano. Maybe that’s why?”

               “You performed once,” Maria said wistfully. “It was amazing. I think. I wasn’t here to enjoy it. But everyone else told me it was amazing.”

               And by everyone else, Michael knew she meant Isobel. His sister had been talking about Alex’s voice since that night.

               “That can’t be true,” Alex laughed, and Maria’s smile turned more genuine despite her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t tell if everyone’s telling me the truth about this stuff, or if . . .” he trailed off at the sight of Maria.

               Alex sighed, smiling softly. “I knew you’d cry.”

               “I’m not crying,” Maria sobbed as she wrapped her arms around Alex’s shoulders. He patted her back consolingly, but Michael could tell he was at a loss for what else to do.

               They left soon after with a promise from Maria that she would give them a five-minute head start before calling Liz.

               Alex was silent as they drove on, knee up on the console as he hugged himself.

               “Alex?” Michael asked, but it was as if Alex couldn’t hear him. “Hey,” he asked again, reaching out to touch Alex’s shoulder. “You okay?”

               Alex shook his head and covered his face. “I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “I’m okay.” He pressed his hands against his temples again, his face red as he strained to contain what Michael assumed was the same throbbing migraine that had haunted him at the Crashdown over a week ago.

               “Do you remember something?”

               “I – I don’t know,” Alex said miserably.

               “It’s okay,” Michael said. “Don’t force it.”

               Alex shook his head, his smile pained. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. A whole town of strangers expecting me to know what they want me to know, and I just don’t.”

               “It’s okay.”

               “It’s not okay, Guerin,” Alex said. A breath, two, then, “We were really in love, weren’t we?”

               Michael faltered and nearly hit the truck in front of him. It honked loudly as he passed it, but Alex looked unruffled, his eyes steady on Michael. “You remember?”

               “Bits and pieces,” Alex said. “Always of you. Always bad. I’ve either been angry with you or you’ve been angry with me, or I’ve cried because of you or you’ve cried because of me. One of us is always walking away.”

               Michael clenched his jaw, and pulled over to the side of the wide empty road, parking the truck. Neither of them said anything for a moment, nothing but the wind in the sand blowing past, and neither of them in a hurry to get into this conversation.

               “Then how did you know?” Michael finally asked. “That we were in love?”

               Alex have him half a sad smile. “Because you keep looking at me like I’m breaking your heart.” He shook his head, a tear escaping down his cheek. “I don’t enjoy this. It’s like I can feel there’s a big part of me missing, and I don’t know how to get it back. I know it’s a miserable, and dark, and messed up part, but I would do it for you, Guerin. I would remember if it meant I got to remember you.”

               Michael shook his head, unable to look away from Alex. He whispered, “Why?”

               “Someone who loves as much as you do,” Alex said, “has to be worth putting up with the rest of it.”

               And while Michael knew he shouldn’t, that it might hurt them both, he closed the distance between them, and took Alex’s lips in his. Alex did not seem startled, kissing back gently as Michael tilted his head and deepened it. His heart was overflowing, he could hardly contain it. It had been too long since he’d touched Alex, his scent and taste the same as ever.

               Michael knew they had to be okay if Alex was kissing him back, if everything about him from the way he dressed to his voice was all the same as before. Michael decided that, no matter what it took, they would be okay. They would have to be.

               But just as he reached up to cup Alex’s cheek, the airman pulled away with a wince.

               Michael panted against his lips, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

               Alex looked confused at what had just happened as well. “I – I don’t – ah!” He pressed his hands roughly against his temples, all but screaming in pain.

               “Alex?” Michael pulled back, trying to hold onto Alex’s shoulders, to cover Alex’s hands on his head with his own, but Alex doubled over, screaming. Then his nose began to bleed, and Michael felt panic quickly seep in.

               “Hold on, Alex, hold on,” Michael said desperately, undoubtedly breaking every speeding rule as he raced the streets on the way to the hospital. “Hold on, I’m gonna get you help, hold on, baby!”

               But if Alex heard him, he didn’t show it. He was trembling in his seat, bleeding all down the bottom half of his face, his shut tight. The second Michael parked the car in front of the building, Alex collapsed against the car door.

               Michael felt a sickening sense of déjà vu, sitting here in front of Alex’s bed, watching him lying unconscious, waiting for him to wake up. He hated being here, he hated seeing Alex here, he hated these damn white walls and white sheets. He wanted to take Alex and go somewhere far away, somewhere danger and white hospital rooms couldn’t follow.

               But, as Liz had pointed out when Kyle had insisted on calling her after what had happened, Michael taking Alex anywhere alone didn’t always yield the best results.

               “What did I say?” Kyle said as soon as he came in, clipboard in hand. “I said don’t stress him out, Guerin. Don’t scare him, Guerin. Don’t push it, Guerin! Does anyone even listen to doctors anymore? No, of course not, because you all just know better, right?”

               “Kyle, Michael couldn’t have known this would happen,” Liz tried. She sounded weary, her eyeliner was smudged from when she had been crying. Michael wished Max and Isobel could be here, but they had gone to the reservation with Gregory to see if they could gather any of Alex’s old things, help jog his memory, and weren’t scheduled to be back for another day.

               “Actually, Liz, he could have,” Kyle said. “Because I warned you it would.” He checked Alex’s vitals, his scans, and turned to glare at Michael. “You’re really lucky Alex is as strong as he is, or who knows how much worse that reaction could’ve been.”

               Michael tried to muster the will to be angry, but he couldn’t. All he cared about was Alex. “Is he going to wake up?”

               “I don’t know,” Kyle admitted. “A breakdown like that, in the state he’s in – it could make things worse. Decades worth of trauma all hitting him at once. If he does wake up, you better hope he remembers how to speak.”

               Michael’s heart climbed into his throat. He looked up at Kyle, hoping to see him rolling his eyes, to hear him reassure them that he was kidding, that Alex’s memory couldn’t regress that far, but the doctor was only looking at Alex.

               Kyle rubbed his face and sighed. “If he doesn’t wake up by tonight, I should call his mom. I’m going to go have a look at his records and pull up her number. I’ll be back later to check on him.”

               Michael briefly registered Liz nodding before the door opened and closed, and she pulled up the chair beside him and took a seat.

               “You should—”

               “If you tell me to go home or get some rest, Liz,” Michael cut her off, his eyes on the airman, “I’m going to scream. It’s my fault he’s here in the first place.”

               “No, it’s not,” Liz said slowly. “It’s mine.”

               “Liz—”

               “We were in that cave because of me,” Liz said. “I was too eager, not careful enough, and Alex did what he always does. He saved me. He would’ve remembered sooner or later.”

               “I forced him into it.”

               “It was what he wanted, Michael,” she said. “He chose you because he knew you would help him remember faster. Don’t you see that? He just wanted to remember you.”

               “A lot of good that did him,” Michael said bitterly. “Even when I’m not in his life, I ruin it.” He reached out and took Alex’s hand in his own. “But I can’t stay away from him. You must think I’m a real dick.”

               Liz shrugged a shoulder. “What I think doesn’t matter. Alex loves you, no one else. I can’t shut that off, any more than you can.”

               Michael shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. “I can’t lose him.”

               “You won’t,” Liz said. “You can’t.”

               Michael vaguely registered her standing up an hour later to get them some food. He nodded numbly as she grasped his shoulder and turned to leave.

               It wasn’t until two more visits from Kyle and a frantic phone call from Gregory that Michael realized he felt something in his hand move. He looked up from where he’d dozed off, with his head on Alex’s bedside, and saw that it was Alex’s fingers twitching in his, lightly holding onto Michael’s own.

               Michael sat up with a gasp, staring intently at Alex, but after half an hour, the airman’s eyes remained shut and his fingers did not move again. Michael’s heart quickly turned back into lead as he stood up, gently releasing Alex’s hand. He stepped into the bathroom, wondering if maybe he’d imagined the whole thing, maybe he’d dreamt it, maybe his long days of not eating enough and his even longer nights of not sleeping enough were getting to him.

               He came out of the bathroom and froze. There, struggling to sit up against his pillows, was Alex, wide awake. Michael didn’t dare move, afraid that he would shatter the dream, but Alex’s expression turned startled at the sight of him, and the airman narrowed his eyes as if to make sure Michael was actually there, and Michael knew it was real.

               “Alex,” he breathed, throwing himself onto Alex, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders.

               Alex was stiff in his hold, his hands in his lap. Michael remembered the last time Alex had woken up here, the way Michael had frightened him by getting too close. Michael forced himself to let the airman go, and he stepped back, holding his hands up to calm what he was sure was going to be a terrified Air Force captain.

               “Don’t freak out,” Michael said gently. “It’s going to be okay.” Alex’s brows furrowed. Michael swallowed, remembering what Kyle had said about the probability of Alex not remembering how to speak, then said more slowly, “I promise . . . I’m your friend. . . .”

               Alex raised a brow, then, rubbing his forehead painfully, he said, “What the hell are you doing, Guerin?”

               Michael’s face fell and his heart jumped. “You – you remember me?”

               Alex sighed, the sound alone so familiar that Michael thought he could burst into tears right then and there. “What?”

               He stepped closer to the bed, not daring to hope, and wishing for it despite his better instincts. “Do you know who I am?”

               “Yeah?” Alex said, though it sounded more like a question. “I’ve only known who you were since we were in high school. Did Kyle ask you to question me? Because I feel – oh!”

               Alex never got to finish because Michael had closed the distance between them again, wrapping Alex in another tight hug. As he was not caught so off guard this time, Alex settled his chin on Michael’s shoulder and hugged him back.

               When they finally broke apart, Alex was rubbing his temples, wincing. “My head is killing me.” His eyes widened. “Liz. Where’s Liz, is she okay? Did she make it out of the cave?”

               “The cave?” Michael’s brows furrowed, though he didn’t dare leave Alex’s side again. He planted himself beside him on the bed, and while Alex seemed both surprised and confused, he was giving Michael his full attention once again. “That’s the last thing you remember?”

               “Yeah,” Alex said, but he frowned as he looked himself over. “My injuries shouldn’t be healing yet, not unless . . .” he trailed off, realization dawning. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked, not afraid or concerned, only calculating, as if he was drawing up a battleplan on how to deal with the answer when it came. God, Michael missed him.

               He shook his head and reached up to cup Alex’s cheek, kissing the other. Once again, the airman seemed at a loss for words.

               “Not long,” Michael said honestly. “Not long at all.”

***

Goodness gracious, I’m rusty.

[jinhitwhore]

The List 01

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, High School! Au

Warning: None yet!

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: It’s your senior year of high school and while most couples struggle to decide what to do after high school you and Jungkook seem to have it all figured out. You’re breaking up. But until college move-in day, you plan on making the most of every second and do everything on the list that you two made together. 

Note: If you’ve seen me post and delete this three times before... no you didn’t! Not sure how long it’ll be yet. Also, I am in college now so idk how often i’ll update. This is for funsies and I very much don’t know how to use punctuation, so sorry in advance. And if you do stick around thanks for reading! :)

“It’s really the first day of senior year, huh.” You were still in shock of how the past three years of high school had flown past in what felt as a blink of an eye. Now you headed into your high school for one last ‘first day’ with your best friend, Emma, beside you. 

“Way to state the obvious.” She bumps your shoulder and giggles. “I’m serious. This is the year where we take our final SATs and we do the whole college application thing and then we and we spiral into crippling debt because we all know financial aid is a joke and now I’m freaking out.” 

You stop as Emma blocks your path and places her hands on your shoulders. “Y/n...shut up and chill, please. You skipped over all the fun stuff like prom, and parties, and graduation, and getting the hell out of here. Most importantly you get to do all that fun stuff with your boyfriend.” Emma shakes your shoulders gently after successfully calming you down. 

“Where is said boyfriend by the way?” Her eyes scan the hallway as you both start walking to your locker. You shrug letting out a small sigh. “I haven’t seen him since he went on vacation with his parents a few weeks ago.” She hums in response.

“I still can't believe you ended up getting a boyfriend after you swore you didn’t like anyone and that you were happily single.” She leans against the locker next to yours and watches you put your books up. “I was but now I’m happily dating Jungkook. Are you sad that your summer of fun included a little less of me?” You teasingly grin at her. 

“Not at all. As far as I’m concerned summer of fun was very successful even when you left me to my own devices”. Emma gave you the sleaziest wink and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. “In that case I’m definitely going to need you to fill me in.” 

Before Emma could begin telling you all about her summer escapades she notices a tall figure making its way down the hallway. “I’ll tell you later.” She nods behind you but you bump into something hard on your way to turn around. 

“You okay, baby?” Jungkook holds you while you regain your balance. You look up at him with a goofy loved up smile that’s reserved only for him, “yeah”. After weeks of not seeing him, there stood your very devilishly handsome boyfriend grinning down at you. 

“Sorry.” He chuckles and reaches out to run his thumb over your forehead. He moves his hand down to your jaw and leans in close to your lips. “I missed you.” He mumbles before giving you a sweet kiss. “Missed you too”. Your face now dusted by a slight blush as you pulled away. 

Jungkook smiles at your reaction and leans in for a second kiss. Interrupted by an “ahem” that comes from behind, you are made very aware of your small audience. “Hey, Emma. How was your summer?” Jungkook casually asks as he slides his hand into yours. “Great, actually, but I missed hanging out with you guys.” 

Before you could continue your idle chatter, the morning bell rings. “Catch up during lunch?”, Emma suggests as you both start towards the direction of your class as Jungkook smiles and waves. 

“See you at lunch then!” He yells after you. “Yup!”

A few too many ice-breaker activities later, the lunch bell finally rang. 

“Why do teachers feel the need to introduce you to the same people you’ve been in class with for years? As if I don’t remember that Liz in the back row lost her tooth during snack time in first grade!” Emma continues whining as Jungkook joins you guys. 

“Bad day already?” She looked over at him with a pout and nodded slowly. Emma continues chattering on until you finally reach your car. 

“You drive.” You toss Jungkook your keys and he smiles knowingly at the fact that you still hate driving. It’s been a little over a year since you had gotten a license (you’d been driving longer than that but that’s none of the authorities’ business) and you still refused to drive more than necessary.

 Jungkook jogs up ahead of you and opens the passenger door and waits for you to get in before walking over to the driver’s seat. “Everyone buckled up?” He asks looking into the rearview mirror. 

“Why do you always look at me when you ask that?” Emma grumbles as she yanks the seatbelt on and Jungkook finally puts the car into drive with a knowing smile. “Hand”, Jungkook rests his elbow on the middle console with his hand’s palm facing up. You playfully roll your eyes and intertwine your fingers in his.

Jungkook drives to a nearby diner that people from your high school frequented. Walking across the parking lot you smile at a girl you recognize from one of your classes. 

“I heard she’s going to dump him soon,” Emma says as you notice the boy who’s standing by your classmate. “Apparently she wants a clean break sooner than later, so she can enjoy her senior year. Smart, considering how everyone ends up breaking up anywa-'' She cuts herself off before looking over at you two slowly with an ‘I fucked up face’. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean you guys. Y/n and Jungkook forever~” She sings the last sentence in an attempt to lighten the mood before mumbling another apology.

 “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you’re saying anything we don’t already know.” Jungkook chuckles. “I hope you know that you guys aren’t included in my statement. If anyone can make it work it’s going to be you two.” Emma assures and you can see that she really means it. 

“Thanks, but...um..we’re actually going to break up too.” You say in passing with an airy laugh as you reach the diner entrance and Jungkook opens the door for you and Emma.

The revelation left your best friend dumbfounded as she watched the couple’s display of affection a few feet ahead. 

“Do you want to split a milkshake? I don’t think I can finish it on my own.” Jungkook scrunches his face in an attempt of denial. “I’ll give you the cherry~” You swing your locked hands between you. Your cute act quickly wins him over and you tiptoe to kiss his cheek. 

How could you just drop that bomb so casually? Especially when she had watched her best friend’s relationship bloom from the very start. Meddled along with the rest of the class so that you and Jungkook had no other choice but to be lab partners in fourth period chem. Listened to you gush after your first date and first ‘I love yous’. 

Yeah, you definitely weren’t as okay as that breezy laugh let on, and you’re definitely not getting away from a very long conversation about your feelings later on.

“Hey, guys!” You greet the group of boys that sit together at a corner of the diner where a bunch of tables had been pushed together to accommodate the large group. 

“Y/n, JK,” Hobi greets happily before looking behind you guys, “and…oddly quiet Emma. What’s wrong?” He asks with a pout. “Nothing much just realized love is dead.”

Emma walks around the now confused Hobi and takes a seat next to Jin. You giggle at her dramatics as you and Jungkook follow to take the remaining seats beside her. “I’m still confused. Love is dead? Since when?” Hobi reclaims his seat next to Yoongi and waits for a response. “Since these two idiots decided to break up.” Emma nods in your direction before resuming her grumpy act.

You hear the tiniest ‘huh’ leave Hobi’s lips before turning around to the entire table’s eyes on you and your boyfriend. “It’s not really a big deal. We’ve got all year left before that happens. Right, babe?” You turn to Jungkook and he answers with a small stiff smile. Hoping the way your heart is clenching in your chest doesn’t show through. “Right.” The moment between you lingers along with the sense of dread. 

“So what are y’all getting today?,” Jungkook asks in an attempt to move past the awkwardness. The guys start going on about their favorite orders and quickly move on.

Lunch continues on with lively chatter about summer activities and senior plans until it’s time to head back to school. You arrive back on campus and make your way to the only class you two have in common.

You walk through the classroom door with him laughing at something silly he had whispered in your ear when you hear someone call his name. Jungkook looks between you and some of his other friends sitting at the back of the classroom. He smiles and waves back. 

“Alright, so where are we sitting?” He looks at you expecting an answer. “You can go with them Jungkook”, you chuckle, “I know you haven’t seen them all summer. I’ll sit with the girls.” You take your hand from his before pushing him in the direction of his friends. He looks back at you one more time. “Go make friends, Kookie.” You usher in a tone for children too shy to go off into the playground on their own. He rolls his eyes and finally walks off as you join your friends.

The class progresses in the same boring fashion as all of your earlier classes. The only difference now was the occasional peeks between you and Jungkook. You glance up at Jungkook while the teacher shares pictures of his summer trip. 

He catches your gaze and you watch as a small smile spreads on his lips. The moment only lingers for a few seconds before he decides to tease you like the little jerk you know he is. “Talk to your friends Y/nnie”, he mouths at you and uses the same gesture you used on him earlier. You roll your eyes as he winks at you. Finally turning back to pay attention for the last few remaining minutes of class until the bell rings.

The rest of classes and bells whizzed by until it was finally 4 o’clock and you were free to go home.

You made it out into the parking lot and leaned forward to put the key in the ignition. You flinched in your seat when you heard your passenger door open and someone sat beside you. 

“You made me drop my keys, jerk” You grumbled and punched his arm. Jungkook winces in mock pain as he looks over at you. “Ouch. Now you’ve got to kiss it better”. This time when he looks at you his eyes are filled with expectation and mischief.

 You only rolled your eyes, but he continued to insist. “I’m serious! That really did hurt. I think you forgot that you got buff from going to the gym with me.” He rubbed his arm again for added effect. “You’re such a baby”. You teased as you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Your baby.” He hums as he turns to connect your lips to his. 

His hand moves to rest beneath your neck, deepening the kiss to the point that it was impossible to breathe. “I missed you so much, baby.” He mumbles against you. Dazed and breathless you sit there with your eyes closed, lovestruck grin on your face, “Missed you too.” He pecked your lips one more time before leaning back into his seat. “So my place or yours?”

Pushing the door open to your empty house, “Home sweet home”. Your parents still had a day before they came home from an overnight visit to your grandparents, leaving you and Jungkook to take full advantage of that.

 Currently, you were laid up on your boyfriend’s chest. The peaceful atmosphere you had settled into suddenly disrupted by you. “We should make a list”, You sat up and looked down at Jungkook with excited eyes. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Of things we want to do together before” You sighed, not wanting to finish off your sentence. “Before we break up?” He finished for you.

 “There’s just so much I want to do with you before we leave”. The words softly left your lips. Jungkook tucked your hair behind your ear happily before walking over to grab a pen and paper from your desk. “Let’s get started then.”

He settles back on your bed while you mindlessly title the page. Jungkook moves to peer over your shoulder. “Y/n and JK’s pre-breakup bucket list.” You catch his subtle wince after he reads the title aloud. Your expression slowly drops into a sad smile but Jungkook is quick to kiss your dejection away. 

“So skinny dipping at a very crowded beach has to be at the very top”. You look over at him with his favorite ‘are you fucking kidding me’ face. He pulls you against him, nuzzling your neck. “Come on. Add it.” Placing playful kisses in the crook of your neck. You turn your head. “No thanks”.

You continued brainstorming until you ended up with a list far more simple than you would have expected and a very important clause at the bottom of the page. ‘The list is always subject to change if Y/n and Jungkook feel like it.’

The sound of your alarm stirs you from your sleep. You move to sit up but a pair of strong arms tighten around you. “It’s time to get up”, you sigh as you make no further attempt to escape your boyfriend’s warm embrace. Jungkook burrows his face in between your shoulders and hums in agreement. 

“Are you gonna let me go?” You giggle and finally try to pull his arms away from you. “Do you really want me to?” He teases and places a kiss on your shoulder. You hum in consideration. Lay in bed with your boyfriend to enjoy the morning together or get to school on time before your parents get the ‘your kid isn’t in class’ phone call. You hated that damn phone call. Jungkook seems to come to a conclusion before you as he rolls off the bed with a groan. 

You continue to lay despite no longer having the weight of your boyfriend confining you to bed. “I really don’t want to get up”, you whine. “Mnh mnh, you made me get up now it’s your turn”. His hand wraps around your ankle to drag you to the edge of the bed he stood by. For the second time this morning, you found yourself in Jungkook’s arms except this time you were being tossed over his shoulder and not waking in a gentle hold.

After being set down in the restroom with no other choice but to get ready, you start brushing your teeth. You lean over to spit the foam into the sink when Jungkook pokes his head in.

“Hey, where do you keep all the clothes you steal from me? I need some for today”. You roll your eyes at his accusatory choice of words before pointing him in the direction of your bottom dresser drawer. It’s not stealing when you had every intention of returning said borrowed clothes. He pulls on a t-shirt he found and you manage to steal a few shameless glances while getting ready yourself.

Just a few more days and you would have him all to yourself for the weekend.