#this afternoon while doing laundry i was going to work on my fic but decided i wanted to make a hen fancam instead

[doctorcurdlejr]

honey!! it's time for your dose of beautiful butch firefighter!!

[koithelittle]

Hi hi!! Can I ask for a hurt/Comfort fic (or headcanons?? Whatever u feel like writing:3) with copbur?

Like he had to work longer than he told u by accident, but u get really anxious about people being away (I'm not projecting guys I swear-) and when he comes home ur little and sad and he's really sweet about it and feels so bad he accidentally did that to his baby :((

anxious days with happy nights

note; OH MY GOD YES I CAN!!! ngl I really struggle with separation anxiety/abandonment issues in general but esp with a carer so like ooo I'm gonna have fun writing this, thank you!

words; 2.1k

warnings; use of daddy/dada, cutesy petnames (i stick to baby though), separation anxiety, crying, panic, abandonment issues, reader gets a bath, not proofread, lmk if there's more!

pairing; cg!copbur x little!reader (gn)

navigation

taglist; @jjtheresidentbaby @lillylvjy @wilmaslittleflower @whos-nicooo (ask or dm to be added!!)

wilbur usually kept his shifts to the same length every day. his routine was set and it wasn't going to budge. he'd wake up at 6, get dressed and showered and then he'd wake you up to do a little check in. if you were big, you'd handle yourself for the most part; even if he preferred when you let him fuss over you. but if you were little, he'd help you wake up, get you dressed, get you to brush your teeth while he did your hair, etc etc. you'd both have breakfast and by 7:50 he was out the door and on his way to work. that way you'd be awake with him long enough to feel secure and not end up waking up without him and panicking (which has happened before and resulted in him taking an extra day for his weekend off).

his hours were the same, 8am - 4pm, Monday through Friday. it was the same routine every day, and it was easily expected to stay that way. his job usually consisted of more quiet work, like paper work, intake or lunch rounds. nothing out of the ordinary, nothing where he had to handle scuffles or escaped inmates. it was repetitive, and he liked that.

you had woken up in a normal headspace, getting yourself ready and joking around with wilbur before he left. you thought of busying yourself with house work, dishes that needed to be done, laundry that wasn't overflowing but you felt like it needed to be done. but you couldn't manage it mentally, you were exhausted and nothing was to a level of needing to be done at that moment, so you rotted on the couch and did some simple embroidery during the morning. you didn't start to slip until lunch time, having decided on a snack plate instead of a put together meal because you were simply just getting so tired and didn't feel like it. the rest came with it.

the further you slipped and the later it got, the more on edge you were. you managed to catch wil during his afternoon break, texting with him and telling him of your day. part of him was estatic you were little and enjoying yourself, while the other was worried since he wasn't there to actively care for you. not to mention he only had a fifteen minute time window to speak to you before he got swept back into work.

he told you he had to go, and you understood, telling him how much you loved him and missed your daddy! he smiles and puts away his phone in his pocket before going back to his post.

you managed on your own until it was around the time he usually left work, you didn't get a text or a call that he was on his way. he wasn't answering his texts and he should've been home by now. but he wasn't. you were panicking a bit, curled up in blankets and staring blankly at your phone hoping to all hope that you'd get a call from him. that he would be coming home.

your anxiety only built further and further as time passed, you tried to keep yourself cozy and distracted, turning on some cartoons as your phone went unchecked.

another hour passed and you heard the front door click closed, you lifted your head, dried tears over your cheeks.

"daddy?" you call for him, jumping out of bed and waiting for him to answer.

"baby?" wilbur echoes back and he hurries up the stairs, seeing you peeking out of the bedroom door, your eyes held wide with a pout on your lips. he scooped you up into his arms and carried you into the bedroom. he sat down and set you between his legs after he kicked off his shoes. he runs his thumbs over your cheeks as he takes note of your reddened eyes and the tears dried on your skin. he frowns, kissing your nose as he rests his hands on the small of your back.

"how tiny is my baby, mm?" he tries to lighten the mood with a soft question, trying to keep you with him as his mind wanders and runs with different thoughts. feelings of guilt and worry at the sight of you so distressed and he knows it's because he was late. but he'll address that later, right now his baby comes first.

you shrug softly, reaching forward and grabbing hold of his shirt, messing with the fabric and rubbing it between your fingers. it's a softer cotton shirt, and you always like to fidget with it when you can.

"are you.. five? two? ooo is my baby realllyy tiny? hm?" he kisses all over your face as he speaks, trying to coax a smile or a giggle out of you. you crack a bit of a grin, shaking your head as you look up at him.

you hold up one finger, smiling sweetly as he gasp, "oh so you're a little baby, then?" and you nod as he places a big kiss to your forehead, pushing back your hair and tucking it behind your ears.

you move to crawl against his chest and he takes you into his arms, rubbing at your back as you drape your arms around his neck. you don't feel like talking all too much, just so tired and overwhelmed with all the feelings you have, that words just feel exhausting.

silence drapes over the both of you, and wilbur tucks his face into your neck as he hums, "I'm really sorry, baby. I got all caught up at work with a bad guy and I couldn't get home in time, I wish I did," you nod into his shoulder, humming softly as his arms tighten around you.

"s otay, daddy," is what you manage to squeak out, and he sighs, tension and stress being let out with the long breath and you hold yourself tighter to him. you don't want him to disappear, you need to hold on tighter. tighter, tighter, tighter.

he feels your hold tighten, and he rubs your back while leaving little chaste kisses by your ear. he mumbles small words of reassurance, "I'm here, baby. not going anywhere," which earns a little whine from you as you bury your face deep into his shoulder. he holds back a small chuckle, and it comes out as a huff of air as he simply keeps you close.

more time passes, nothing changing other than the intensity of your hold on him, hands grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. it helps you stay grounded, he doesn't mind.

"baby, have you done your routine yet?" he knows the answer, but he still bothers with asking anyways. you shake your head with a huff, his lips curl into a grin and he nods, "mkay baby, time for a bath then."

he then works on prying you off of him so he can effectively get you ready for a bath. you're shaking your head and whining at him, and he tries to soothe you with soft back rubs and little kisses to your face. it works for the most part and your silent complaints seem to fizzle out as he settles you between his legs again.

"can you sit still for daddy while I get things ready? mm?" he coos, knuckles running over the soft skin of your cheeks and you nod vigorously. wilbur chuckles and kisses your forehead before handing you your favorite stuffie and turning the TV to bluey. you focus your attention on the show, sitting still on the middle of the queen size mattress. he slips out of bed from behind you, untucking his shirt out of habit as he gathers up some pj's for you, taking them and laying them out behind you on the bed. then ventures into the bathroom.

he starts by running the water in the bath, then adds some bubbles to get all foamy. he keeps the door open so he can hear if you call for him, or if you fall. he then crouches to look under the sink for some of your bath toys and a bath bomb. he wants to make tonight's bath a bit more fun and exciting than your usual baths. mostly to help soothe the guilt that grows in his gut. he keeps the bath running as he pokes his head into the bedroom from the bathroom and smiles at you.

"hey, honey, the bath's almost ready," you look over to him and nod, reaching your arms out and making grabby motions with your hands. he scoops you up from under your arms and kisses all over your face, "good baby," he cracks a small grin, holding you on his hip as he carries you into the bathroom. after he sets you down on the counter, he kisses each of your cheeks before he begins to help you undress.

"what did my baby do today?" he croons, helping you into his arms before setting you down in the bath. you shrug at him, padding at the water as the bubbles collect around you.

he grabs the little washcloth and gets it all wet before he starts to scrub at your back, "i's watched cawtoons a bit," you finally speak up, eyes droopy and tired as you watch him.

"oh you did now, mm? what did you watch, bug?" he smiles sweetly at you as he gently guides your arm to be closer to him, and he gently scrubs your arm and shoulders before moving to the other arm. he glances between your eyes and where he's cleaning you up, waiting for you to answer.

"Ninjago," you mumble, smile brightening as your eyes widen with it.

he chuckles, kissing your temple and humming at your answer, "zane still your favorite?"

you nod happily, giggling before you ramble on about the episode you watched, and everything that happened. he manages to comprehend most of it, but the rest was all baby babbles that he couldn't quite make out.

after your body was all clean, he sat back for a minute, letting you play to your heart's content as he watched you. his shirt is a bit soaked, and he has some bubble bath in his hair from when you tried to give him a foamy hat, but he doesn't mind. with a small smile on his lips, and love in his eyes, he watches as you play and splash, giggling and including him in your play. he leans closer a moment later, grabbing hold of your hand and rubbing his thumb over the skin. wilbur then kisses each of your fingertips, ending with a kiss to your palm. you giggle and splash about, grinning ear to ear.

"was dat fow?" you ask softly, eyes squinting with a smile on your lips. he grabs your other hand and repeats the order of kisses before he places one tiny kiss to your nose.

"oh, well I'm just showing my baby how much I love them," he smiles softly before he starts to wet your hair and lather up your scalp in soap. you smile and hum, shutting your eyes as he washes out your hair.

when he's done, you're so tired that you don't even fight to stay in the bath, just letting him pick you up and wrap you up in a soft fluffy towel, drying you off. he carries you into the bedroom and helps you get all dressed, kissing all over your face before he helps you get back to the bathroom to help you brush your teeth. you're sleepily leaning against him the whole time, exhausted from your anxiety filled day.

once he got your teeth brushed, he carried you over to the bed, grabbing your hair brush and a couple of hair ties. he sat you between his legs as he unpaused the TV, letting it play as you focused your attention on bluey. he gently brushed out your hair, before splitting it in two and braiding both sections. he places a quick kiss to your temple before turning you to face him and shut off the tv.

"alright, baby, time for bed," you nod, reaching your arms over his shoulders as he picks you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing all over your face. he held you to his chest as he tucked you both under the covers, making sure your stuffie was safe in your arms. after he had effectively kissed every spot on your face, he pushed your bangs back and pressed you to his chest.

"goodnight little one," a small pause as you held him closer, a smile on his lips as he continued, "I love you."

you murmured an echo of his words, telling him you loved him too, and you were soon asleep. held tight in his arms with comfort surrounding you.

[moonice20408]

If You're Interested

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x SubFem!Reader Category: Lil bit smutty. Nothing graphic, but still 18+ ONLY PLEASE Summary: You’re exhausted after back to back cases, and some friends ask if you wanna ‘hang out’ that weekend. Seems like the perfect way to destress. Then you run into your boss at a sex club. Content Warning: Brief mention of a missing child case, Dom/Sub dynamics, talks of non-penetrative BDSM scenes, submissive relationship to a male/female couple, Bi reader, oral, sex toys. Word Count: 2981 A/N: So I posted this forever ago, then lost ~everything~ on my memory card. But, I managed to recently save a few things, this being one of them, but I lost everything else I wrote for it, so for now, it will remain a one-shot. Someone was asking where it went, so I thought I'd at least post the first chapter. ALSO the names James and Natasha are also used for characters, just in case that happens to be your name. Cause seeing my own name in a fic throws me sometimes.

To say you were tired was the understatement of the century. The team had gotten back from one case, only for Garcia to meet you in the bullpen with an apologetic look and a file in hand. JJ, Matt and Rossi had excused themselves to call their families before joining the rest of you in the briefing room. And it was a bad one. A kid had gone missing that afternoon. From a park in the middle of the day. You had until the jet was refuelled and you were off again. Thankfully, and against what all the statistics told you, you found the boy after two days alive. He was scared and hungry, but you’d been able to reunite him with his family. Given the police presence, the unsub hadn’t managed to do anything to the kid; too scared of getting caught. When you found the scumbag, you’d managed to give him a black eye as he tried to escape, and then watched as he begged for some kind of mercy while he was taken way in cuffs. The exhaustion of it all seemed worth with when JJ had pulled up to the scene with the boys parents, and they ran out to embrace their son. The case ended as well as it could of done given everything, and the entire team passed out when on the jet home.

It was a Friday afternoon when you got back, and Emily had instructed you all go straight home, and not to come back till Monday. No one argued. You opted to call a cab. Two demanding cases, very little sleep, and your diet for over a week now had been mostly coffee and whatever was in the closest vending machine. You figured it’d be best not to drive. Upon returning home you had dropped your bag at the door, kicked your shoes off and promptly fell forward onto your couch, falling quickly to sleep.

After a few hours though, the awkward way you fell overpowered the need for sleep, and you woke up stiff and unsure of the time. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself up. You stretched your hands above your head, and brought them down to rub your face. You took advantage of the burst of energy you now had, knowing it wouldn’t last long, and set about doing the laundry from your go bag, and heading for a decent shower.

Clean, dry and now in comfier clothes, you head back to the couch, find something to watch and order takeout for dinner. You had just finished the food when your phone buzzed.

Your stomach dropped. You almost didn’t want to look. The dread of a new case coming up and Garcia was calling you back in. But, reluctantly, you reached out for the phone, and let out a sigh of relief when you saw the message was from James.

James: Hey, me and Nat are going out tomorrow night. Would love for you to join if you’re free?

A smirk crossed your face.

You: Great timing. Would love to! Normal place?

James: Actually, we were thinking somewhere new. Been a few times, you’ll like it, promise ;) Will send you the address x

You had met James and Natasha not long after you’d moved to the area. After settling in, at home and work, you’d decided you should look into places that helped you… de-stress. You had a stressful job after all, and what better way to relax then to get back on the scene?

It had taken a little research, but you had found a few clubs around. Then on your free weekends, you’d sampled them out. It was just in the second club you’d met James and Natasha. You had been taking a walk around, just checking the place out and maybe sticking around some rooms to watch the couples or groups in there. They had been by the bar when you’d ordered a drink, and James came over, had complimented your dress, and pointed out he’d never seen you around before.

“Well, I’ve just moved here.” You smiled at the man. “So am scouring the local scene.”

He nodded. “Ah, well then welcome! I’m James, very nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, laughing a little with him. Then he pointed to a little table, where a pretty woman was sat watching the two of you. “And that over there is Natasha.”

You gave her a little wave, and she smiled at you as she sipped her own drink.

“And, if you like,” James continued. “We would be interested in showing you around.”

You had stayed with them for most of the night. The three of you made polite conversation while you finished your drinks, and they gave you a tour of the club. During said tour, they had quickly expressed their interest in having you join them some time. You had learned they the two of them were also in a romantic relationship, and while on the scene, James was dominant, while Natasha was a switch. They were looking for someone who would like to be a submissive to the both of them when Natasha was in a dom mind set. And given the fact they were both very attractive people, and you fell naturally into a submissive role, you too were interested in the proposal. You still wanted to get to know them a little more before agreeing, to which they agreed, so when their small tour was over, you had written down your number, and let them get on with their plans for the evening.

You got a text from Natasha the next day, asking if you were still interested, and if you’d want to meet up to discuss things further if you were. Texting back right away, they’d met you for lunch that same afternoon, and you’d talked more about limits, and set up some rules and boundaries. The main thing for them was that it wasn’t sex. You understood, they weren’t just BDSM partners, they were in a romantic relationship, and neither were comfortable with the other having sex with someone else. Oral and the use of toys were on the table, but no penetrative sex. Not having any issue with that, the conversation moved to your own limits. They had agreed with you on most of your hard limits, and took careful note of the soft. You’d gone over your sexual health, and had agreed to meet them for a proper scene the following Saturday.

It was pretty light compared to some of the stuff the three of you do know, but they hadn’t wanted to push you too much too soon. But it was amazing.

All that was about a year ago now. Your relationship to the couple only grew stronger in that time. You could trust them in a scene like no one else. And as the trust grew, you had been willing to try out new stuff for them. They acknowledged that you did still want to have sex, and so long as you let them know and got tested before you’d meet up with them again, they were okay with it. They always stayed with you afterwards in case you dropped, and they never got mad or upset if you got called in for a case last minute. They didn’t know exactly what you did for a job, just that you could get called away at a moment’s notice. Eventually, Natasha had even been submissive alongside you sometimes, with James in control of you both. So when James text you about a new place, it didn’t worry you in the slightest.

***

They were both waiting outside for you. And from their posture alone, you could tell it was only you being the submissive one tonight. The though made you grin as you rushed over to them.

“Well don’t you look pretty.” Natasha put her hand under your chin. The gesture giving you that warm, dizzy feeling. The stress of the past week had been a lot, and you were more than ready for tonight. As a result, you slipped into a sub space pretty quick, and they could tell, as you leaned into Natasha’s touch.

James smirked. “Eager tonight, are we sweetheart?”

You just hummed and nodded, your hands reaching out to them both.

They lead you inside, and James took you to a small table in the corner. Natasha had gone to the bar, and grabbed the three of you a quick drink. Nothing alcoholic. James had strict rules about going into a scene sober. Natasha had drunk hers quickly, then left the table, telling you she was going to get the room ready. The glint in her eyes as she spoke made you giddy, and you wrapped your arms around James.

“What are we doing tonight?” You asked.

“Well, we’re in room five.” He grinned at you, putting his arm around your shoulders.

“And what happens in room five?”

“Depends on whether or not you behave.”

You faked a gasp. “I always behave!”

He just chuckled at you.

As you finished your drink, you set the glass on the table with the other two.

James rubbed your back. “How about you be a good girl, and take those back to the bar, hm? Then we can go find Nat.”

You bit down on your tongue at the pet name, and were quick to move, collecting the glasses carefully in your hands and making your way through the crowd. The bartender smiled at you as you put them down, and you turned back. Walking straight into someone as you did.

“Oh I’m-” The words stuck in your mouth and your stomach dropped, as you looked at the woman in front of you with wide eyes.

Emily.

Emily Prentiss.

Your literal actual boss. Eyes also wide in surprise.

You snapped your mouth shut. “I, erm… Hello.” You gave a nervous smile.

“Hey...” She said slowly.

“So… This is happening…” Your eyes wondered down her body, suddenly very awake of the tight, revealing black outfit she was wearing.

It looked good.

No! Stop it. She’s your boss.

…Your boss in a very well fitted outfit at a sex club!

“Apparently.” She said, her voice seemingly calmer than it was a second ago.

Your eyes snapped up to hers, realising you were staring at… not at her face. She smirked a little bit, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer. Any trace of shock or surprise had vanished from her face, and she was looking at you with a amused glint in her eyes.

“Umm… I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say here…”

“Don’t think there’s anything you’re supposed to say.” She raised an eyebrow and took a sip of the drink in her hand.

She was acting so casual about this. Like you’d ran into her at the store.

How was she being so calm about this? So composed?

“You’re a dom?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. And you immediately smacked a hand over your mouth.

IDIOT!

She huffed a laugh. And you noticed the way her eyes quickly looked you up and down “You think I’d be anything else?”

You shrugged, dropping your hands. “I dunno!” You flapped your hands at her. “You’re my boss. I not supposed to think about that.”

She stared at you, and bit the tip of her tongue. “Not supposed to, hm? Not don’t?”

You blinked. “What?”

Her tongue ran across her lower lip, and her eyes bore into you. “You said you’re not supposed to think about it. Not that you don’t think about it. Just an interesting choice of words.” She lifted her shoulders slightly and gave you a smug look.

“I-” You found yourself speechless again. “I mean I…” You took a deep breath. “I have to go!” And you went to stomp passed her.

Of course you’d thought about it, had she seen herself? Can’t say you ever had the whole sleeping with your boss fantasy before you joined the team. But you couldn’t admit that!

“I have.” You froze. “For what it’s worth.” Spinning back on your heel, you looked back to see her shrug, taking another sip of her drink nonchalantly. She didn’t break eye contact.

Was she saying that she… No. There’s no way. She thought about you? Like that? Like this? No. She’s just in a dom space while she knows your in a sub space. She’s playing. Just taking control of an awkward- and potentially job-jeopardising- situation?

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, and your heart was hammering inside your chest, as you tried to figure out a response. She only smirked behind her glass as she waited.

Then two hands came down protectively on your shoulders.

“Everything okay here?” It was James.

You span around to see him looking at Emily.

“It’s fine, I promise!” You assured him, and he looked at you to check for any deception. “We just, um, know each other…” His body language shifted. Running into people you know from else where was something that was better sorted out sooner rather than later. You never had until now, and you certainly never expected it to be your boss if it did happen.

He gave Emily a quick look again, who was apparently unfazed by the man. She looked him up and down, before her gaze fell back to you.

James nodded at you. “Nat’s almost ready.”

“I’m right behind you.”

James gave your arms a quick squeeze, giving you a moment.

“Seems nice.” Emily said once he was out of ear shot, in a way that you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not.

“Yeah, he is. They both are.” You told her, though your mind was stuck on what she said a moment before.

“Both?” She raised an eyebrow, a tone of surprise to her voice.

You shifted a little bit, looking down. The team didn’t know about your sexuality. Not that you thought they’d think badly of it if they did, it just never seemed to come up at any point. And the longer it went that you didn’t tell them, it just seemed to be more awkward to bring up. “I, um, yeah… James and Natasha.” Taking a deep breath you looked back up to Emily. “I met them not long after I moved here. They were looking for a sub, I was looking for a new partner, so…” You trailed off, giving a small shrug.

She hummed. “You moved her over a year ago, why have we not run into each other before?”

That’s what she was taking away from that admission? “Um, well we normally go somewhere else.”

“Ah, well then.”

Silence fell over the two of you, and you didn’t really want to leave James and Natasha waiting any longer. You were her with them afterall.

“So, um,” You fiddled with the hem of your dress. “Do we just… pretend we never saw each other, or..?”

Her face dropped, only slightly, but you noticed. She narrowed her eyes. “Is that what you want to do?”

“I want…” You averted your gaze.

You had always found Emily to be an attractive woman. Anyone who couldn’t see that was a fool. But she was your boss. Your boss in a job where you couldn’t let personal feeling get in the way. So you pushed your little crush aside and ignored it. Right now however, the way she held herself when James came over, and the way her eyes remained on you, and the fact she had admitted that she’d thought about you in this sort of environment…

So no, you didn’t want to pretend you didn’t see her. It’s not like either of you spoke about your sex life around the team, so that wouldn’t change, surely. But you could talk about this with her. Exploring this with her was what you really wanted, but you weren’t sure if that’s something you should admit to her. Like you already said, she was in a dom mind set right now, she could just be playing.

But you could play too.

At the thought of playing with her, you felt that dizzy feeling creep over you.

You looked at her in the eye, and given the once over she gave you, she could tell you were slipping back into a subspace.

“We’re gonna be in room five.”

She paused, as if waiting for you to take it back. When you didn’t, “Five huh?” She smiled at you.

The smile reassured you, and you bit your lip. “Yup. Door’s open. Y’know, if you’re interested.”

Then you turned and walked away from her, and to James who was waiting at your table for you. He raised his eyebrows at you as you approached and you just shrugged innocently. Rolling his eyes with a smirk, he placed a hand on the small of your back and lead you away.

“Thought you said you’d be behaving tonight?” He joked.

As much as you would love to talk more with Emily about everything, you were James’s and Natasha’s tonight. So, you shifted your thoughts back to them. You focused on the feeling of his hand on you, and thought about whatever it was him and Natasha had in store for you.

James however, looked back, and caught Emily with her eyes still on you. Drinking her drink a little faster.

[alphacrone]

WRITING TREATS YES PLEASE

what a cute little ghostie!! happy halloween! this is the intro to a fic i still would like to finish one day maybe where lucy gets possessed by something ancient and evil during a joint case with the kipps krew (also my OG love for lucykat definitely shines a little in this snippet lol)

-

“Tony.” 

“Kipps.”

Despite the unsteady truce Lockwood & Co. and Fittes found themselves in, the tension between the two boys tonight was palpable. As autumn faded into winter, the outbreaks around London seemed to grow worse. Every agency in town found themselves swamped with jobs and it was starting to take its toll. George was running on an hour of sleep and had already dropped the bag of chains on Lucy’s foot twice; Lucy herself was still sore from running a solo job in Lewisham the night prior, where she’d nearly toppled backwards out a window when Skull decided to spook her from her backpack. And Lockwood-

Well, he was still washing mud from behind his ears from a rather disastrous meeting with Flo two days before. To Flo’s credit, she’d warned him that the dock worker he was meeting didn’t take kindly to posh little brats in tight trousers. Lucy wasn’t even clear how any of that led to them finding a source, but apparently they had succeeded in the end. 

All that to say, no one was in top form that evening. Even Skull was pouting silently from his place in Lucy’s bag, miffed that Lucy had scolded him for nearly killing her. So while the chance to work such a large job as this—multiple teams investigating multiple sources—was nothing short of a boone, the proximity to their former rivals put Lockwood & Co. on edge. 

Kipps’ eyes shifted from Lockwood to Lucy, and Lucy found herself looking away quickly. Things between them had been left at such an awkward place the last time they spoke—Kipps had admitted to her that his sight was going, signaling the swift end to his career as an agent. Before then, he’d tried to poach her and ask her out in one conversation, and Lucy was frankly unsure how to even speak to him properly after all that. 

Her eyes ended up meeting Kat Godwin’s instead, which wasn’t much better. She and Kat had an odd sense of kinship, being strong listeners and the only girls on their teams, but that was where any goodwill ended. Kat was acerbic, prideful, and deadly with a rapier; in another life, they might have been friends, but in this one they dug under each other’s skin with sharp words and passing sneers. 

Instead of her usual smug smirk, however, Kat was giving her something of an appraising look. Perhaps she’d heard of Lucy’s heroics with the bone glass and Joplin. Perhaps she wondered why Lucy would choose not to join her team. 

Or, perhaps, she was simply taking in Lucy’s soot-stained clothes. She’d slept too late that afternoon to do laundry and had to settle for yesterday’s romper and jacket. Lockwood had teasingly called her Cinderella on the way over until George had told him to shut up. 

“As you know,” Kipps said, breaking the silence first. “The client, Mr. Windermere, has asked our two teams to handle this stretch of tunnel between Whitechapel and Liverpool Street. The Post Office is hoping to revitalize its private railway system again and our work is essential for that to happen.” 

“Why does a post office need its own underground?” Lucy asked. “It closed down for a reason, didn’t it?” 

“It closed shortly after the problem reached London,” George said, just as Bobby Vernon tried to speak. “At the time, it wasn’t a priority, so they switched to a team of lorries instead. As for why now, well. It appears Fittes and DEPRAC are considering it for the transportation of sources. There’s a station in Clerkenwell, close to the furnaces.”

“So, what?” This time it was Kat who spoke up. “They plan on having us drop off sources in the mail? How’s that safer than hand-delivering it ourselves?” 

“They plan on establishing drop-off center along the tunnel route,” Bobby cut in before George could. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how long wait times at the furnaces are these days.” 

Kat nodded, satisfied with this answer. Lucy, however, didn’t quite buy it. She glanced sideways at Lockwood, but he was focused on the tunnel before them. “George, the lining along this tunnel–what is it?” 

“Iron,” George said. “By all accounts, it should keep Visitors out.” 

“Or keep them in,” Lockwood murmured. His hand moved instinctually to his rapier hilt. “Well,” he said after a moment. “What fun! We’re likely the first people to explore this place since it closed.” 

“Any word on what’s down here?” Ned Shaw asked as we ventured further in. George and Lucy busied themselves by pulling glowsticks from their packs and dropping them along the path to illuminate where they were going and where they’d been. 

“The crew who opened up the entrance thought they heard a little girl,” Kipps said, raising a torch as the tunnel grew darker. “But they were probably just spooked. Might be nothing down here, with all this iron around.” 

“Or something very, very strong,” Kat said ominously. 

“Ooh, don’t say that,” George whined. “You’ll jinx it.” 

The girl is right, Skull whispered. It is strong.

[spencerreidsconverse]

When Evil Doesn't Sleep

summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3

“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”

To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.

“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”

Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.

Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.

After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.

You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.

You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.

When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.

”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.

“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”.  You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.

You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.

You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.

You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.

He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.

You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.

“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.

When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.

“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.

You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.

He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.

The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.

As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 23

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It doesn’t feel real until she sees the flutter on the ultrasound, the grey and white pixels flashing erratically confirming a healthy ten-week pregnancy. The doctor gives them a due date of September 17th, and she explains to Mulder repeatedly that the due date is only an estimate, that the baby will most likely arrive sometime in the two weeks before or after that day. Nonetheless, he prints little numbers in the corner of each date on the calendar, counting down.

She is lucky to experience very little nausea, but the time saved clinging to the toilet is instead allocated to bursting into tears at every tiny inconvenience. Mulder comforts her with a confused expression when she cries because she can’t find a Tupperware lid that fits, or her latte has too much foam, or she realizes she can no longer see her toes. She cries because she’s crying, because she feels out of touch with her own body and thrown off by her own emotions. They marvel at the growth of her belly as well as her breasts, which are even more sensitive than they were before. Her libido kicks into overdrive at the same time that she becomes incredibly self conscious about her protruding belly, her fuller face, her swelling feet. This leads to more tears as she grapples with both wanting desperately to be touched and not wanting him to look at her.

He tells her each day how beautiful she is, her hair growing longer and thicker, her skin glowing, her rounding belly housing the perfect little life that they created together. When he’s home, he rubs her feet every night, fetches her countless glasses of water and then helps tow her out of the bed so she can pee ten times in the night. When he’s on the road with Monica, he calls three times a day, asks Missy and her mother to go by and check on her, calls in dinner to be delivered so she doesn't have to cook. As her due date nears, he stops going on out-of-town cases, needing to be close enough to be by her side immediately when she goes into labor. He will not risk missing the birth of his child.

The apartment becomes cramped with a bassinet, changing table, pack n play, and various other baby gadgets. They consider moving, but the idea is too overwhelming for Scully so they decide to stay put until the baby becomes mobile and they really need more space. Mulder breaks the lease on his apartment and moves his fish tank into the living room, putting the rest of his furniture in storage until they buy a house. Priscilla breaks in all the baby gear, sleeping in the car seat and jumping into the swing, covering the tiny onesies with her black fur and making Scully cry yet again. Mulder refuses to let her scoop the litter box, even though she insists it’s safe if she wears gloves and washes her hands afterward. Other tasks she’s forbidden to complete include cleaning the toilet, carrying in the groceries and hauling laundry to the washing machine. When he’s on the road, she misses him as much as she is relieved to be able to be independent, not much caring for being treated as though she’s made of glass.

For the majority of her pregnancy, Scully insists that she doesn’t want to know the sex of the baby, that she wants to be surprised. Mulder respects her decision, even though he would personally like to know, and they create two lists of potential baby names, Scully crossing off “Lisa Marie'' each time Mulder tries to add it to the “girl” column. When she reaches 39 weeks, her pelvis widening as the baby drops into the birth canal, she is so miserable that she has a change of heart, needing to feel connected to this thing that is destroying her body and stealing her sleep. They call the doctor together on a Thursday afternoon as Scully sits on the couch in tears, having woken that morning to find angry red stretch marks marring her previously lily-white belly. When Mulder relays the doctor’s message that the baby is a girl, she sobs harder, and he’s not sure whether it’s because she’s happy or disappointed.

She wakes him at 3:00 am on September 21st, the irregular Braxton-Hicks contractions she’s been feeling for weeks having taken up a predictable cadence, now ten minutes apart almost on the dot. He starts rushing around, scrambling for her hospital bag and his shoes, and now it is her turn to provide comfort, to let him know there’s plenty of time. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital until the contractions are five minutes apart, and so they wait. The progression to nine minutes, then eight, then seven is alarmingly fast, and by the time she agrees that they should head to the hospital she’s starting to feel pressure low in her pelvis. Mulder drives too fast, the streets thankfully still quiet in the early morning, and she is wheeled into labor and delivery with not enough time for an epidural, much to her lament.

Molly Katherine Mulder has blue eyes and a dark shock of nearly-black hair. She barely cries at her entrance to the world, instead searching the room with a curious gaze, squeezing her daddy’s finger with an impressively strong grip and latching like a pro. They are able to go home the following day, Scully wincing as she moves gingerly from the bed to the couch, rinsing her tender stitches with a bottle of warm water and bleeding through entire packages of overnight maxi pads in a day.

Mulder takes off work for two weeks and they spend blissful days curled up in bed with the baby nestled between them as Priscilla curiously sniffs around her, licking her hair with a rough tongue and making them laugh. Each time Scully wakes at night to nurse, Mulder insists she go back to sleep while he changes the baby and walks her around the quiet apartment until she is asleep, singing softly and lulling them both.

When Mulder returns to work, Scully insists that he get a full night's sleep and let her wake up with Molly, reasoning that she can take naps during the day. She does not, of course, take naps during the day. Instead she tries to keep the apartment clean, the clothes washed, the diapers taken out to the dumpster, the litter box scooped. She does too much, and he sees it each day as she grows more and more weary, more and more defeated, the bags under her eyes deepening in color and her mouth rarely hosting a smile. He begs her to let him do more, to ask less of herself, but she is stubborn and strong-willed, the very things he loves about her now keeping her from properly taking care of herself.

They struggle through sleep-deprived arguments over who left the breast milk out on the counter all night, why it matters if he changes the baby on the floor instead of the changing table, why Scully doesn’t want to supplement with formula so he can take some of the night feedings. Her doctor releases her as medically clear to have sex after six weeks and she cries as she tells him that she doesn’t feel ready, that she can’t imagine anything worse than sex right now, and he holds her as he tells her that he doesn’t care, that she should take as much time as she needs, that he can wait.

They struggle, and they thrive. Moments of absolute unadulterated joy are punctuated by intense despair and overwhelm. The gain of a family against the loss of a life where you could pick up and go, stay out until 2:00 am and make love in the middle of the day. They are happy, and they are stressed, and they face it together.

On a Saturday in December, Mulder wakes early and takes care of every conceivable task in the house; the laundry, the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, scooping the litter, buying the groceries. He checks every item off Scully’s to-do list and then takes Molly for a long drive, leaving Scully alone with nothing to do in hopes that she will rest for once. When they return from their excursion, he creeps into the quiet apartment with a sleeping baby in his arms and sets her in the bassinet by the couch. At first he thinks maybe Scully has gone out, but he finds her in bed asleep with soaking wet hair, Priscilla curled up behind her knees. He watches her for a bit, affection clutching at his chest, then changes into sweats and kicks Priscilla out so he can snuggle up behind Scully. It feels so infrequent that they just lay like this anymore; one of them is always about to get up with the baby, about to get ready for work, or doesn’t want to be touched after a tiny person has clung to them all day. He pulls in a deep breath, smelling her lavender bubble bath and feeling the rise and fall of her ribs against his chest. He doesn’t want to disturb her, but he can’t resist pressing a tiny kiss to the side of her neck.

“Mmmm,” she hums in response, twisting her body around so they are face to face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s asleep in the living room.”

She sighs and snuggles closer to him, pressing her forehead into his chest and pushing one of her legs between his.

“This feels nice,” she says contentedly, and he brushes his hand softly up and down her back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Tired. Frumpy. Like I haven’t put on real clothes or a stitch of makeup in three months,” she laments.

“Well, I’ll give you tired,” he says softly, “but I can’t agree on frumpy. I think you look very beautiful.”

She scoffs against his chest.

“You don’t have to placate me, Mulder. I know I’m a mess.”

“Maybe so, but you’re my mess,” he retorts, pushing his fingers into her hair to gently scratch her scalp.

She tilts her head up to look at him, appraising his face with a skeptical eye.

“Is this what you thought it was going to be like?” she asks, her tone open and vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.”

She sighs. “I just wish I knew when I might start to feel like myself again,” she says sadly. “I can’t help but feel like you’re not getting what you signed up for.”

“What do you mean?” he asks with a concerned frown.

He sees her eyes growing glassy, dampening with impending tears. “I mean the woman you asked out in the autopsy bay isn’t the one you’re with now,” she whispers, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“That’s not even a little bit true,” he implores, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “You are everything you were then, and more. I’m amazed by you every day.”

She closes her eyes, a tear rolling across the bridge of her nose. He feels his chest ache; the need to make her understand is overwhelming.

“Hey,” he says, pulling the blankets back, “come here.”

He pulls her into a sitting position and slides off the bed, towing her along with him to sit on the edge of the mattress. He kneels on the floor between her knees, his hands on her hips.

“If you think for one second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I don’t care if you wear giant milk-stained T-shirts and have spit up in your hair for the rest of our lives, Scully. You’re it for me, okay?”

She pulls in a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes, but won’t look at him.

“Stay here,” he commands, and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he returns to his post kneeling at her feet.

“We knew this was going to be hard,” he says tenderly, holding one of her hands in his. “You said it yourself before Molly was born, that it would be the hardest time in our lives, and that we’d be at our worst. And I’m telling you that if this is your worst, sign me up, okay? It hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

He holds up his other hand, a diamond ring perched between his thumb and forefinger.

“If you’re not ready to say yes yet, that’s okay, but I need you to know that I still want to marry you, Scully. I’ll wait forever if that’s what you need, but there hasn’t been a single day since I asked that I haven’t still meant it.”

Her tears have stopped, though her eyes are still wet and the tip of her nose is red. She looks from him to the ring and back, her eyebrows stitched in contemplation.

“I didn’t hear you ask me a question,” she says quietly, and he picks up on the slightest lilt of playfulness in her voice, which makes him break out into a smile.

“Dana Katherine Scully, love of my life, mother of my child, will you marry me?”

She smiles then, and he thinks his heart may burst right out of his chest.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answers, and he takes her left hand, slipping the ring on her finger.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him repeatedly, soft pecks devolving into lingering smooches as he shifts up slightly, pushing her back gently to recline on the bed. He moves over her, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, not going any further, not wanting to rush her.

She brings her hands to his hips, letting the tips of her fingers slip under the waist of his sweatpants, and his cock stirs. It’s been so, so, long, and he wants her desperately, but not until she’s ready. She pushes her hand down the front of his pants, gripping him as he grows hard under her touch. It’s overwhelming in the best way; he feels like a teenager being touched for the first time.

“I wanna have sex,” she breathes into his ear, the words rushing out quickly as though she’s afraid she might change her mind if she waits too long to say them.

He pulls back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, and she nods, bringing her palm to his cheek before glancing at the ring on her finger and smiling.

They move slowly, though still with a sense of urgency that a baby sleeping in the next room brings. He pushes her shirt up and she lets him take it off, then slips the yoga pants off her hips, leaving her in basic black cotton briefs. He sees the hesitancy in her eyes as he looks at her body, now softer than it was before Molly, curvy in different places, purple streaks running from below her belly button to disappear under her panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her chest, her breasts, her belly, running his tongue along the grooves of her stretch marks. He loops his thumbs under the waist of her panties and tugs them down slowly, quickly undressing before he rejoins her in the bed.

“Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” he asks with a serious expression, and she nods, letting her legs fall open as he settles between them. He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in achingly slowly, watching her face raptly. Her mouth opens slightly, and she takes in a sharp little breath. He’s about to ask her if it hurts when she closes her eyes and her mouth drops open further as she breathes out “oh,” in a way that he knows means pleasure, not pain. When he’s all the way in, their hip bones pressed together tightly, he stills and kisses her for a while, feeling like he could melt into a puddle for how good everything feels. His heart, his mind, his body, he is all wrapped up in her and it’s exactly where he wants to be.

He begins to move, and she responds with an arch of her back and a little gasp, her hands clutching at his shoulders. Little by little, he increases his pace until he knows he won’t last much longer.

“What do you need?” he asks, and she brings her hand to her breast.

He dips his head, flicking at the hardened bud of her nipple, and feels her clench around him. He plays with the level of pressure, licking and sucking, pleasantly surprised that she is enjoying it even as her breasts have taken on a purely functional role these last few months.

She pulls in a huge breath, arching her back and pressing her head into the mattress and he groans as he feels her tighten around him. She emits a single piercing cry when she comes, stifling it with an arm slung across her mouth. He pours into her, burying his face in her neck, clinging to her like a life raft. She is, in fact, all he needs to survive.

Resting half his weight on the mattress beside her, he stays inside as they both come down, panting and smiling, brushing hands over each other’s skin, reconnecting.

“Ah!” Molly yells from the living room, and Mulder laughs.

“You’re being summoned,” Scully says with a tender smile.

He withdraws from her, handing her his T-shirt to clean up while he slips on his sweatpants and retrieves Molly from her bassinet.

“Guess what, Goose?” he says, using his special nickname for her, “Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

“AH!” She squeals, flapping her arms.

[preciousprentiss]

Prompts of Hotchniss - Chapter Ten

I’m still working on the first chapter of my multi-chapter fic! It’s taking me longer than I thought it would to get it how I want it and I’m struggling, but I’ll get there. I wanted to get something up today though, so I wrote this fluffy thing and I hope you like it! I know the style of writing is a bit different to my previous chapters too, but I decided that I love this style and so I’m going to try and use it more!

                                         -------

Prompt: Person B hates doing chores, but does it anyway when A is sick.

“Watch your feet.”

Curled up on the couch with Jack as she watches cat videos with him on her computer, Emily smirks when she looks up at her boyfriend to see him standing beside her with the vacuum cleaner. She knows he hates vacuuming with a passion. He hates it almost as much as he hates dusting and doing laundry, but her back has been killing her for days and he’s been helping her out with all those things without a single complaint.

She lifts her feet from the floor and props her legs up on the table in front of her when he clears his throat, their baby girl kicking at the sudden movement until she runs a hand across her bump to settle her. She still can’t believe she’ll be here in less than a month. Her pregnancy has been so easy and she already knows she’s going to look back on it fondly as time passes, Sophia’s kicks and hiccups her favourite things, but all she wants now is to have her in her arms. The bassinet and nursing chair are set up in the bedroom, her tiny sleepsuits and dresses are all hanging up in the closet, her car seat is in the car and all that’s left to do is wait. Despite her eagerness to meet her, however, she actually hopes that her little girl will stay put for as long as she can.

The longer she’s tucked away inside her, the longer she has her all to herself and the longer she can protect her from the world.

Her first baby.

Her first little princess.

She loves her so much already.

“There, that’s the floor done.” Aaron says, pulling her from her thoughts as he turns the vacuum cleaner off.

“Thank you,” She smiles. “Now you can go and fetch all the laundry baskets and make a start on the washing for me.”

His shoulders slump and he groans under his breath, but he nods nevertheless and turns to walk away.

“Hey, hey, hey, come back, I’m just messing,” She laughs which causes him to turn back to her, his relieved expression making her fall all the more in love with him before she pats the space beside her on the couch and he approaches her while pushing a hand through his hair. She waits for him to sit down and get comfortable before she puts an arm around him and kisses his lips, a faint hum escaping her when he strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. The kiss lasts seconds at the most since Jack is still sitting with them, but the two of them are smiling like idiots when they pull away and she buries her nose in his hair when he tucks her head into her neck. “The laundry can wait until tomorrow. You’ve done enough for me for one day, sweetheart, really.”

“I never realised how much you actually do around this place,” He admits. “You’re incredible, Em, I have no idea how you do it.”

“Ah, I don’t mind it that much,” She replies, softly kissing his temple. “It only really bugs me when someone gets under my feet.”

Aaron glances at Jack who’s eyes are still glued to the computer screen. “Jack, do you hear how she’s talking about you?”

“Daddy, Emmy means you like always.” Jack corrects him while clicking on another video.

“Me?” Aaron tilts his head back on Emily’s shoulder and looks her in the eye. “When have I ever gotten under your feet?”

“Um, all the time…? Just the other week, I was cleaning the kitchen and you were in and out all afternoon!” She reminds him. “I had to clean up all your mess as well as the mess that was already there because you’re incapable of putting stuff away again.”

“I’m sorry, I never even thought.” He runs a hand across her bump, attempting to coax a kick from their baby girl which he does.

“You don’t have to apologise to me,” She assures him as she gives him a squeeze, her gaze moving to his hand when he starts tracing gentle circles onto her belly with his thumb. “Besides, I think you’ve more than made up for it with all you’ve done for me over the past couple of days. When I texted Garcia to tell her that you were doing the washing up in those pink rubber gloves, I ended up having to send her a picture because she thought I was messing. Everyone knows how much you hate doing chores.”

He’s silent for a second as he looks at her. “You…Gar…Garcia has a picture of me in pink rubber gloves?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I already asked her to forward it to everyone in her contacts,” She says. “That’s how proud I am of you.”

“You’re lucky I love you as much as I do, Prentiss, that’s all I can say.” He mutters under his breath.

“I am,” She agrees. “I’m so, so lucky…”

[neon-junkie]

Vanity is a Sin - Chpt.1

Summary: The last person you expected to fall for is that pretentious man, Javier Escuella, but maybe you're not so different from him after all?

Pairing: f!Reader x Javier Escuella

Word Count: 2709

Rating: SFW

Tags: Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Arguments, Bickering, Denial of feelings, Reader has a lot of self-doubts.

Notes: I’ve wanted to write a Javier multi-chapter fic for aaaages, but wanted to do something different for it. So, enemies to lovers it is, my fave trope hehe, but we don’t see much of Javiers negative side, so let’s explore that :0

Next Chapter

It's another chilly day at Horseshoe Overlook. Despite your occasional shiver and constant goosebumps, you're thankful that you're still not stuck in Colter, but that still doesn't mean you can't wish to be somewhere warmer. It seems no matter how many layers you put on, you can't quite get warm, and you question how other gang members are walking around in their summer attire, especially Arthur.

You shiver again and accidentally manage to prick your finger with the needle you're using to sew somebody's patchy pants. "Fuck sake," you mutter under your breath, looking at your finger to inspect the damage. It's nothing, and you know it's nothing, but you're in a grumpy mood, so everything feels tenfold, especially the sting to your fingertip.

You sigh, looking up at the sky, questioning why whatever being that lives up there continues to rain on your parade. It's not just you that's in a bad mood, the whole camp seems off, but Dutch continues to attempt giving his many uplifting speeches whilst he poses in his tent with a cigar in hand, not lifting a finger to do even some basic camp chores.

He's doing the same now, and your eyes gaze over him as you stop staring at the sky. There he is, the man himself, the big boss, his voice cracking every so often; that always brings a smile to your face. Your eyes follow around the rest of the camp: Hosea is the only one stood listening to him. Molly's on the other side of her tent staring into her pocket mirror because for some reason, she no longer has to pull her weight. Bill is still asleep. Mary-Beth and Tilly are beside you, still sewing away. The O'Driscoll is still tied to the tree. Strauss is... doing whatever he does. And there's Javier, gussying himself up in Arthurs mirror, no surprise there.

You'll never understand how these boys get away with doing the bare minimum, whilst yourself and the other women are the only thing keeping this camp together. Everybody knows that if the women decided to up and leave in the night, the men would end up setting the camp on fire, probably attempting to cook their own dinner... no offence to Pearson. There's a fair few, such as Arthur and Hosea, who are able to survive on their own, but you've seen Arthur attempt to do tedious jobs before and just like you, he pricks his fingers every time he sews. At least Hosea has an excuse, being in his grey years, his bones not able to move as they used to, but he makes up for it in other ways.

But Javier? What does he do? Apart from prance around the camp in his designer crocodile boots, spending an hour shaving his moustache every morning... why does he even shave his moustache like that? You asked him once, and he replied "It rubs off from all the friction." Sure, Javier, because you're obviously a very wanted man.

Unfortunately, Mary-Beth and Tilly take quite a liking to him. They've confessed what you would view as sins before, saying they both have a soft spot for the man, to which you scoffed then laughed, and ended up choking from laughing too hard.

"Why are you laughing? I don't see why you two don't get along? He's real sweet and..." Mary-Beth had begun droning on, and you eventually interrupted her with a "Where do I start?"

Needless to say, neither of them agreed with any of your opinions of Javier, apart from him not pulling his weight as much as he makes out to. But oh, he plays guitar, so that means he doesn't have to do any chores because he blares out his music all hours of the night. You've told him to quit playing so you can sleep many times, seeing as your tent is right by the campfire, to which he always glares at you and plays louder. He once even had the audacity to wake Uncle up and begin shouting Ring-A-Dang-Do.

You took your revenge by waking up early and pouring water in his boots. He knew it was you the second he put them on, sighing and glaring at you, but not being confrontational for once. At least he started putting a curfew on his music after that.

You've been manifesting in your thoughts for a while now, not realizing your name is being called out. "Huh?" you almost yelp as somebody taps your shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Tilly asks. "You've been staring into the distance again, didn't even hear us callin' your name."

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking," you explain as you turn your attention to them.

"About what?" Mary-Beth questions.

"Nothing that's worth my time."

"Oh, boys?" Tilly questions, making all three of you laugh.

"Unfortunately."

"Well, Mary-Beth and I are all finished here. We're gonna make ourselves look decent and head into town, you coming?"

"Yeah. Let me finish up this, and I'll meet you by the wagon," you reply.

"Alright."

The pair excuse themselves, heading over to their tents to begin looking 'presentable', even though you would happily argue with them about that. They always look incredible, flawless yet effortless, whereas you constantly feel like a drowned rat...

You watch as they wander off, saying hello to Javier, who's still stood in front of Arthurs mirror. He's not even having a shave, he's just been stood there checking himself out for the last ten minutes, or however long it's been. Your brows furrow and you force yourself to tilt your head down, focusing on your final stretch of sewing, eventually finishing up, so you can put them back on the laundry pile and begin getting ready for your day out.

Going into town with your girl friends is always relaxing, something to get you out of camp, when you're not trailing in and out on your own accord. Yes, you know damn-well how to shoot a gun, along with all your other basic survival skills like hunting and fishing. Dutch was reluctant to take you on heists at first, calling you "another Karen, a woman who wants to get her hands dirty when she's needed here."

Dutch wasn't expecting you to put your money where your mouth is, trailing back into camp a few days later with more than enough cash to keep the camp happy. Only that was somewhat of a waste of time now you look back on it, your share being lost somewhere in Blackwater, along with the rest of the camps hard work and progress. Back to square one, yet again...

The sound of a thud startles you, looking over your shoulder to see that the final crate has been loaded into the wagon. The shop helper gives you a wave, and you beckon him over to tip him; he pours out his thanks before going back inside.

"Back to camp?" you question as you turn your focus to Mary-Beth and Tilly, who nod in agreement.

With a flick of the reigns, the three of you begin leaving Valentine, only popping into town to grab a few camp supplies and treats for yourselves. You've fancied a new outfit for a while, and you're excited to try it on later, maybe make yourself look nice so you can... sit by the campfire...

What else is there to enjoy in camp?

The path you're following leads you straight back to Horseshoe Overlook, and you warn the girls of the bump before crossing over the train tracks. A familiar figure can be seen in the distance, and as they approach, you realize it's Arthur on his new mount. He pulls up beside you as you stop the wagon, tipping his hat to the three of you.

"Where are you going?" you question.

"Just headin' into town. I didn't know you girls had just been there," Arthur explains.

"We only went to pick up supplies. What are you going for?" Tilly questions.

"Javier and Charles wanted to meet me at the Saloon, said I'd drop by this afternoon. They must already be there."

"You should get going then, you know what Javier is like," you complain, the words slipping from your mouth.

Arthur laughs at your statement. "You're right," he agrees. "But you two will learn to get along one day, you've gotta if you're gonna be in the same camp together."

"Arthur, there are plenty of camp members that don't get along. You and Micah, for instance?"

"...Yeah, you're right," Arthur hums in frustration. "Forget I said that then... Well, I best be going."

"See you later," the three of you reply.

Arthur gives another little nod and taps his spurs, heading into town, whilst you whip your reigns again and begin your return to camp. 

 By the time you arrive, it's almost sundown, and your evening is spent unloading the wagon and scoffing down your dinner. The night is free to do as you please, so just like you told yourself earlier, you get changed into your new clothes and make yourself look presentable, taking a seat at the campfire with the others and joining in on their story telling.

The evening is going well, relaxing and peaceful for once, even with Uncles banjo playing. All until the sound of heavy hooves come thudding back into camp; you turn to see a handful of the gang members returning from their night in town, only they don't seem too happy. They're huffing and grumbling, nursing what appear to be wounds, and it's easy to piece everything together and realize that they been in a bar fight.

A few of your fellow camp members get up from their seats at the campfire to go and check on them, and as much as you do care, you don't want to overcrowd them. You get up and make your way over to Pearson's wagon, picking out another bottle to drink. You're spoilt for choice, a nice selection of whiskeys and gins at your service, something different from cheap, warm beer.

You pick up a bottle and begin reading the label, checking the alcohol percentage and debating how drunk you want to get tonight. You don't overhear the sound of footsteps approaching, your mind paying no attention to sounds like that as you hear them all the time, but the sound of somebody speaking directly behind you makes you jump.

"That for me?" they ask. You peer over your shoulder to see Javier standing there, his hand rubbing his chin where a bruise is beginning to form.

"Why would this be for you?" you scoff, turning your body to face him, the bottle in your hands.

"Your poor camp member has just been in a fight, yet you won't help nurse them?" Javier questions with a laugh.

"That's your own fault, plus I ain't your mother."

You begin to walk off, but the comment Javier makes forces you to stop in your tracks. "Mary-Beth and Tilly would."

"Go and ask them then," you roll your eyes, turning to face Javier again. Who does he think you are? He begins to softly laugh and the sound makes you gag, so artificial, just like the rest of him.

"But what if I want you to help me? Surely you don't dislike me that much."

"I do, so I'd suggest you ask them."

You try and walk away yet again, and Javier mutters something under his breath. "You'll learn to like me eventually." Another scoffing sound escapes your lips as you frown at him, leaning against Pearson's table and crossing your arms, your bottle in hand.

"You know, I've never seen you wear purple before. It suits you," you smirk.

"Oh, very funny," Javier says as he raises his eyebrows. He approaches you, his strides small and slow, stopping right before you. His hand moves away from his bruise, his skin turning a deeper purple as every second passes, but your eyes are drawn to his; They're dark and blown, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, staring into yours. He's too close for your liking, you can smell the tobacco in his system with every exhale, his breathing deep, still clearly worn out from the fight.

"What's your issue with me?" Javier asks. "I mean, I've never done anything to upset you, not that I know of, but you've always had something against me."

"I've told you before," you begin as you uncross your arms, placing your bottle down on the table and resting your hands on your hips. "You don't do shit around this camp. You'll drag a sloppy score in here and there, but your vanity distracts you from doing some proper work, chores and what-not."

"Vanity?" Javier repeats the word with a laugh. "There's no harm in looking good, at least you're putting some effort in tonight. Did you buy this today?" Javier asks as he goes to tough the fabric of your blouse, but you swat his hand away.

"You're as bad as Micah," you spit at him.

"Mhmm, we both know that's a lie. For starters, I do a lot more than him around here, and you know it-"

"Please, will the pair of you quit it already?" Dutch calls out as he approaches. He must have noticed the way you two were stood so close, squaring up to each other, both too egotistical to let the other talk them down.

Dutch puts his arm out between your bodies, lightly pushing both of you away, forcing you to take a few small steps back. "I've said before that you don't have to get along, but these pathetic arguments happen far too often. Either you both drop this, or I'll have to find a way to make you get along," Dutch threatens, and you know he'll stay true to his word.

You don't bother saying anything, glaring at Javier once more before turning heel and walking away. "You forgot your drink," Javier calls out to you.

"Seems I've lost my appetite," you call back, and you overhear Dutch sigh at your comment.

Part of you feels sick, and you're unsure if that's from the adrenaline pumping in your veins, or the nerves Javier has shaken into you. Why was he stood so close? Your noses were almost touching, and you wouldn't be surprised if he kissed you just to wind you up even more. You try to keep your mind clear as you enter your enclosed tent, taking off your makeup and getting ready for bed, but you can still feel Javier's hot breaths on your skin.

You debate having a towel bath, wanting to wipe away the sin of being so close to that irritating man, but you're already in bed with no motivation to move. As you roll over, the sound of his guitar grows outside, forcing you to place your head under the pillow in an attempt to drown the music out. He's a good musician, and you're happy to admit that, but why does everything about him have to be so... him?

The perfectly coordinated outfits, the way his steel toe boots are always shining, the effortless yet pristine ponytail he always wears, the confidence and vanity in everything he says. He's like one of those flawless characters you've found in awfully written books, no weaknesses or downfalls, no ugly days, everybody loves him, yet his artificialness makes you sick.

And he knows it makes you sick, and he loves to play on it. Tonight isn't the first time he's got up close and personal with you. You know he studies your every move, watching your body language, checking to see if blush grows on your cheeks, searching for your insecurities. The comment he made earlier is still on repeat in your mind... "at least you're putting some effort in tonight." What a smug bastard. He knows how low your self-esteem is, yet you weren't expecting him to pull a Micah and make a comment like that.

But this is what he wants. He wants it to settle in your brain, to weigh you down and make you feel even worse. You just have to not let that happen, but that's easier said than done...

[on-maars]

The perks of being set up by a ten years old

This fic is inspired by this post (kudos to these people for being hilarious) because it made me laugh and also because I love Christopher Diaz with my whole heart.

Hope you’ll like it.

Read on AO3

Christopher sighs as he looks down at his hands.

There are a lot of Legos bricks around him. They’re all spilled on the carpet but Christopher can’t find the right one. The one he’s looking for is very small, it could maybe be hidden underneath his bed or maybe even behind his big firetruck but he looked everywhere and he can’t find it.

He tried to classify them logically like Buck does every time he plays with him but he doesn’t know how to do it as efficiently as him and his head is aching. He wants to ask his dad for help but he knows he probably doesn’t have the time to build this small castle with him. It’s a lot of work and his dad is already very busy today. He needs to do the cleaning, the laundry and the grocery shopping and when all of this is over, he also needs to help him with his homework.

Plus, his dad’s shoulder still hurts and he needs to rest. That’s what Buck told him before leaving two days ago. And if Buck said it, then it means he’s right. Because Buck cares about his dad a lot.

Christopher presses his small hands over his forehead and sighs a second time. He needs to fix this on his own. Or maybe he could ask Buck to help. Buck is always happy to spend time with him and if Chris goes to his dad and asks him to talk to Buck on the phone then maybe Buck would come? Yes – he decides. It’s worth a shot.

He stands up and takes a few steps toward the living-room but stops dead in his tracks when he sees his dad. He seems sad. He’s seated on the couch and he’s running his hands through his hair and Christopher knows he always does that when he’s nervous about something. He’s not the only one seated on the couch. Ms. Ana is with him. She seems sad, too. Christopher frowns.

He doesn’t really understand what’s going on but then his dad starts speaking, and Christopher knows he should probably go back to his room and close the door behind him because it seems to be an adult conversation but he does none of those things. He stays there and listens.

And Christopher is a good kid. Or at least he thinks he is. Sure, sometimes he does some bad things but doesn’t everyone? His dad does bad things too. Buck as well. If you don’t do them very often then maybe you’re okay – he thinks. And his dad is sad and if his dad is sad then doesn’t he deserve to know what it is about? To try and make him feel better? Yes. That’s the best thing to do. He takes another step and hides in the kitchen, listening carefully.

“Does he know?” It’s Ms. Ana who’s talking. She’s very quiet. She seems nervous. Christopher doesn’t like it.

“No. No, of course he doesn’t. It’s just me, I- I guess getting shot really put things into perspective, you know? And he didn’t- Don’t blame him, he’s never-”

He? Who’s he? Christopher thinks.

“Edmundo, I’m not blaming him.” She says and her voice is soft, like she’s smiling. “How could I? He’s been there for you every day since- since you got hurt.” Christopher closes his eyes and sniffles. He doesn’t like to be reminded of that day. That day was very scary and he’s lucky Buck was with him because he doesn’t know what he would have done without his best-friend.

“He took care of Chris. He drove him to school, cooked lunch, helped him with his homework, all of that while still working as a firefighter and processing what happened to you, I can’t even begin to realize how much energy that must have taken him.” Ana adds.

They’re talking about Bucky – He tells himself and can’t stop himself from quietly nodding to himself. Because Ms. Ana is right. Every time he was coming back home from school that week, Buck was here to welcome him. Except when he was working. When he was working, Carla was there until he came back. And even when it was late, Buck made sure to go see him in his room and tell him a story, using different voices for each character.

“He was exhausted. Carla and I could see it and we tried to help. I tried to help but it was like talking to a brick wall. He can be very stubborn, but I'm guessing you already know that, right?” Ms. Ana says and Christopher can hear his dad huff out a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, that does sound like Buck.” He sighs. “I’m really sorry Ana, I really thought- I really thought I was doing the right thing but- but even then I think I was trying to prove something to myself. I mean, you’re- you’re everything I should want. Everything I should dream of but then I- then I saw him in the hospital and it’s like-”

“It’s like I didn’t exist anymore.” Ana finishes for him sadly. “Don’t try and deny it, Eddie. As soon as you saw him in that hospital, I knew that whatever we had wouldn’t last. You looked at him like he was your whole world, Edmundo.” She says. “You know, you always say you’re not very good with words and I have to admit- I quite agree with you. But you don’t need to be. You don’t need to be because your eyes always say it all.”

“I-” His dad starts but Ms. Ana cuts in. Christopher lowers his eyes to the ground and stares into space. He shouldn’t be here. This conversation is very private and Christopher almost feels bad for his dad.

“If you’re in love with him then you need to tell him, Eddie.”

Chris opens his eyes wide and a small smile stretches his lips. His dad is in love with Buck.

That’s not news, though. Christopher already knew that. That’s why he got so mad at his dad when he told him he was dating Ms. Flores. She was nice but she wasn’t the right person for his dad. Bucky was. He still is.

“I’ll try. I promise.” His dad says and Christopher’s smile only gets bigger.

“I hope he’ll make you happy.”

Of course he will – Christopher thinks. It’s Bucky.

“I’ll say goodbye to Christopher and head out.”

As soon as these words come out of her mouth, Christopher stands up as quick as he can and sneaks out of the kitchen, sitting back on his carpet to play with his Legos.

He only pretends, though. His mind is far, far away from that castle.

He even forgets about the missing brick.

                                                       ***

The next time Christopher eavesdrop, it’s definitely not an accident. It’s a situation he willingly put himself into. And maybe he was feeling a little bit guilty the first time but he’s not anymore. He’s involved now, and if his dad’s happiness lies with Buck, then isn’t it his duty as his son to make sure that everything happens according to the plan? Surely, it is.

He’s reading a book about space on his bed. A book Buck bought him a few weeks ago. Christopher really likes it but he finds it very hard to focus. Still, he tries because he knows Buck has already finished it and he really wanted to discuss it with him this afternoon. But his attention span is short and five minutes later, someone is knocking on his door and Buck is peeking inside his room with a large smile.

“Superman! How are you doing?” Buck asks and Christopher smiles.

“Buck! I need your help with the castle.” He says, pointing at the amount of Legos bricks scattered on the carpet. “I tried to build it myself the other day but it was hard and I didn’t want to ask dad because he’s still tired and his shoulder hurts him.”

“Well I’m very happy you waited for me, superman, you can’t be having all the fun on your own, it’s not fair.” Buck pouts and Christopher huffs out a laugh. The smile doesn’t leave his face. “I’m just gonna go talk to your dad for a bit, he wants to tell me something very important but then I’ll- Why are you smiling like that? You know something I don’t?” Buck asks.

Christopher shakes his head frantically but his smile betrays him. This makes Buck smile and the next second he’s rolling his eyes at him. “Alright, you definitely know something I don't but I don’t want you to spoil me the surprise so I’m gonna head to the kitchen and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Alright, Bucky.” He says and waits for a few minutes until he’s sure Buck cannot hear him. Only then, he steps out of his bed and tiptoes until he reaches the door. He opens it very carefully, making sure it doesn’t creak. He closes it behind him and crosses the hallway; he can hear voices coming from the kitchen but he needs to get closer if he wants to understand what they’re saying.

He steps in the living-room and makes sure his body is pressed against the wall. Otherwise his dad might see him. He’s closer now, close enough to hear the conversation but still mostly hidden so that his dad doesn’t notice him.

In the kitchen, Eddie is seated at the table, his fingers twitching. His body is buzzing with a nervous energy and this doesn’t go unnoticed by Buck. This one is leaning against the fridge and looking at him with a concerned expression plastered on his face. There’s a tension in the atmosphere, mixed with a sense of urgency that Eddie doesn’t like. It makes his heart flutter and his head aches and he wishes he could run away so he doesn’t have to look at his best-friend in the eye when he says these next few words.

“So what’s up, Eds? Is it serious?” Buck asks and Eddie huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty serious.” He adds and bites his lower lip. Buck only frowns and takes a seat next to him, taking his hand in his. Eddie whirls his head around at the gesture and for a few seconds, his mind goes blank, the only thing he can feel being the way Buck’s thumb traces small circles on his skin. It’s too much. It’s too much but it also makes him hopeful. Because surely two friends wouldn’t act that way around each other?

Or maybe his definition of friendship is just completely outdated and tainted by all the stereotypes and the prejudices he had to face when he was young. He doesn't know anymore.

Either way, he takes a deep breath and squeezes Buck’s hand, in the hope that it gives him more courage.

“Huh I- There’s something you should know. About- about me.” He starts.

“Okay?” Buck says, and Eddie can feel that his best-friend is growing more confused by the minute. “It’s not bad, is it?” He asks. “Not another one of your weird urges to punch people in the face for fun?” He says, trying to lighten up the mood but Eddie only grimaces, not exactly glad to be reminded of that period of his life.

“No” Eddie laughs. “No, nothing of the sort, that’s- no. I think I’ll stick to the punching-bag from now on.”

“Good.” Buck answers while huffing out a laugh. “Then what is it, Eds?” He asks and his voice is so soft it makes Eddie want to run away again.

“You’re not busy, right?” Eddie ensures. “I’m not keeping you from anything? Not… Not keeping you from… From Taylor?” He asks.

“Huh no.” Buck answers, motioning to the air around him. “I mean we do have a date tonight but that’s – you know – tonight. So go ahead. I’m all ears.” He says, signaling him to go on but Eddie’s entire body tensed at Buck’s words and his hand twitches and it’s like all the air has been knocked out of him.

“Date?” He says. “You- you’re dating?” He asks. “I thought- I thought she was just a friend? I mean that’s what you- that’s what you kept saying.”

“Yeah well… She kissed me. Back when you were in the hospital.” Buck says, looking down at the table with one of his sheepish smile that drives Eddie crazy. “So maybe – and I say maybe, don’t let that go to your head, man – maybe you were right about something, for once. I’m giving it a shot.”

Eddie huffs out a nervous laugh but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. How can it? How can it when he spent the entire week working himself up to telling his best-friend he’s in love with him while this one was starting a new relationship with that reporter? It can’t.

But Eddie’s heartbreak is quickly replaced by a deep sense of panic as his eyes urgently shuttle back and forth on his best-friend’s face, desperately trying to find something else to say and salvage whatever is left of that conversation.

On the other side of the wall, Christopher is frowning. He didn’t understand everything Buck said, especially the part about his dad hitting people. Christopher knows his dad and he wouldn’t hurt other people. He wouldn’t, and doesn’t. He saves people. That’s what he does, that’s why Christopher thinks his dad is a hero.

And usually, this would bother Christopher a lot but not this time. No, this time Christopher is angry with Buck. He’s angry with Buck for kissing another person than his dad. He doesn’t know who that Ms. Taylor is but surely she doesn’t measure up to his dad. She can’t.

He’s also angry with his dad for bringing that Ms. Taylor up because if he hadn’t then maybe he would’ve had the time to tell Buck he was in love with him and now that he did, it’s too late.

It’s too late and Christopher suddenly doesn’t care about the rest of their stupid talk. He steps out of the living-room and goes back to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He knows he shouldn’t because his dad is going to hear him but he doesn’t care. Buck ruined everything and it’s not fair. It’s not fair to his dad and it’s not fair to him either.

Christopher is sitting down by himself on the carpet when Buck opens the door slowly, peeking in just like the first time.

“Everything’s okay in here? Ready to play some Legos, superman?”

“No.” Christopher says, crossing his arms on his chest. “I don’t want to play with you anymore.” He adds, his tone cold.

“Okay.’ Buck says, carefully. “What do you wanna do, then?”

“Nothing. I’m very mad at you right now.”

“You are?” Buck asks, sitting down next to him. “Why is that? What did I do wrong, Christopher?” He inquires and Christopher doesn’t want Buck to be sad but he also doesn’t want to talk to him right now.

“You hurt my dad.” He explains. “You hurt my dad and I can’t tell you why but you did and he doesn’t deserve that. My dad is the best.”

“I know. I know he is. And I’d really like to fix what I did wrong because there’s nothing more I want than for your father to be happy buddy, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, alright?” He adds. “So? You think you can tell me?”

“No.” Christopher only repeats. “I want you to leave.”

His tone doesn’t leave room for a choice.

                                                            ***

“What’s going on in there?” Carla asks a few hours later after knocking on the door of Christopher’s room. “Your dad told me you were upset.” She adds, taking a seat on his bed.

Christopher is still mad and he doesn’t want to talk. He wants to stay in his room. In silence. But he knows Carla won’t stop until she knows what happened. She’s very convincing and she also has very great advice when he has a problem.

And this is certainly a big problem.

So maybe she can help after all – Christopher decides.

“He told me you got mad at Buck.” Carla adds and the way she frowns at him makes Christopher feel bad. It’s true he wasn’t very nice to Buck but he’s pretty sure he deserved it. At least, for now. He’s not going to stay mad at him forever. He can’t. He loves Buck too much for that.

“He hurt my dad.” Christopher only says, sticking two Legos bricks together.

“He hurt your dad?” Carla repeats. She seems confused and Christopher is not surprised. He would be too.

“Dad is in love with Buck.” Christopher explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Carla’s face softens. She doesn’t seem very reproachful anymore. Only concerned.

“How do you know that, Christopher?” She asks and that’s why Christopher loves Carla. She never tries to make him feel bad. She never acts like she doesn’t believe him like a lot of adults around him seem to do. She always takes him seriously even if he’s still a kid who doesn’t know as much stuff as grown-ups do.

“I heard him.” Christopher shrugs. “He was talking to Ms. Ana. I knows I probably shouldn’t have listened but I was too curious. I’m sorry. But I don’t think they’re together anymore and that’s because my dad is in love with Bucky. He told her. She seemed very sad and I was scared she would get mad at him but she didn’t. She was very kind. She told my dad he should tell Buck how he feels and I thought that was a great idea because you’re always telling me that when we love people, we should tell them.”

“And did he? Tell him?” Carla asks. “Is that why you’re mad at Buck? Because he didn’t react very well?”

“No.” Christopher shakes his head as he adjusts his glasses on his nose. “No, my dad didn’t tell him.” He exclaims. “He couldn’t. He wanted to but then Buck told him about his stupid girlfriend and now my dad can’t tell him anymore! I want him to but I know he’s not gonna do it.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Carla tells him, wrapping her arms around his back. Christopher sniffles and hide his face on her chest, closing his eyes. “That’s why you’re mad at Buck, then? Because you think he broke your dad’s heart?”

“I don’t think, I know.” Christopher clarifies. “And I also know Buck loves him too and I don’t understand why they can’t be together.” He complains. “They love each other. I know they do, they just don’t say it. It’s stupid. They’re stupid.”

Christopher moves away from Carla’s embrace and wipes his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. His glasses are all steamy and wet and so he takes them off to clean them, avoiding Carla’s gaze. He doesn’t like it, looking at her when he cries, because then she wants to comfort him and that only makes him want to cry harder.

“Can I tell you something very important?” She asks and Christopher nods. Because he wants it to make sense. He wants to understand why something so simple can be so complicated. “I know that sometimes adults can be very confusing.” Carla starts.

“Not sometimes.” Christopher whispers. “All the time.”

Carla lets out a small laugh and nods gently. She waits a few seconds and then she speaks again.

“Your dad and Buck love each other very much.” She adds. “You were right about that. But sometimes this kind of things can be very scary.”

“How so?” He asks. “They’re already very good friends. That must make it easier, right?”

“Yes and no.” Carla answers. “They’re very close, you’re right about that part. And Buck already spends a lot of time in here, doesn’t he?” Christopher only nods to that because it’s true and he doesn’t know what to add. “Your dad and Buck are probably just very scared to start something new because things are so simple right now and they don’t want to complicate everything.”

“But why them being together would complicate everything?”

“Because when you’re in a romantic relationship with someone, you have a lot of expectations and sometimes, things get very messy. And I’m not saying that it will be the case with your dad and Buck but-”

“It won’t.” Christopher shakes his head. “Buck won’t let that happen. And my dad won’t either. They’re already spending all their time together and they never fight. Sometimes I can hear my dad argue with Ms. Ana but he never does with Bucky. Never.”

“Yeah?” Carla asks, softly.

“Yes.” Christopher repeats. “I want Buck to stay here forever. But maybe they’re not ready yet.” He admits. “That’s okay. I’ll wait. I know they’ll figure it out.” He adds. “But you’re right about one thing.”

“What is it?”

“This is very messy. Being a kid is easier.”

                                                               ***

Christopher knows he said he was going to wait. And he is. Waiting, that is. He is, but what if they need a little push in the right direction? What if they can’t do it on their own? What if they need some form of external help? It’s not forbidden. Christopher would even say it’s greatly recommended. After all, he’s doing it for the greater good. It’s not really cheating if it’s for a good cause, right? He promised Carla he would try and be patient but he never said anything about playing by the rules.

He’s seated on the couch in the fire station and Buck is with him, seemingly very engaged in a conversation with that Ms. Taylor everybody keeps talking about. Christopher doesn’t know what the big deal is anyway. She seems friendly, and she’s very nice with him but that ends here. And he knows his dad tries very hard to hide his sadness from everyone around him but Christopher is not easily duped.

He knows his dad well enough to notice that he looks miserable whenever Buck is with Ms. Taylor. He smiles less, he’s more withdrawn but more importantly his eyes are always sad. They certainly are, now. They don’t have the same glimmer of light. That makes Christopher upset. That’s why he decides it’s time to act.

“You wanna hang out at my place tomorrow?” He can hear Ms. Taylor say besides him.

“He can’t.” Christopher answers before Buck has the time to do so. “He’s already busy with me and my dad, tomorrow. We’re going to the space museum. Right, Bucky?”

“Huh yeah that’s true buddy. Sorry Taylor. I did promise him.” He confirms apologetically and Ms. Taylor only smiles. “Maybe on Sunday?”

“On Sunday, you’re also going to the house, Bucky. We’re building the Legos castle, remember?” He asks, and ignores the reproachful look his dad sends his way. “Maybe another time.” Christopher adds, looking at Ms. Taylor in the eye. “My Bucky spends a lot of time with me and my dad."

“Chris.” His dad says and Christopher knows he’s using his warning tone.

“Because we make a great team.” He goes on. “Right, dad?”

“Yeah we do superman, but Buck is also allowed to spend some time with Taylor, alright?”

“I guess.” Christopher agrees. “Ms. Taylor, when did you meet Bucky?”

“A little over two years ago.” She says with an amused tone.

“My dad knows him for a lot longer than that.” He argues and frowns when Buck huffs out a laugh next to him, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What’s gotten into you?” Buck asks him.

“I just think it’s very important for Ms. Taylor to know that.”

His dad is watching him again with that same knowing look on his face. I know what you’re doing and you need to stop right now, alright buddy? That’s what his father wants to say. Christopher knows that. He’s become an expert in knowing how to read his father’s face by now.

And that’s why he also knows that his dad isn’t really mad at him, deep down. Because he may have a disapproving look on his face and his voice may seem cautious but his eyes say a different story. There’s a flicker of pride shining in them, and his lips only slightly stretch up at the edges, the kind of smile you only see if you’re paying attention. And Christopher does pay attention. He pays attention a lot.

And so he decides it doesn’t matter. He gives him a large smile, making sure his dad notices how proud he is of himself, and when his dad huffs out a laugh while rolling his eyes at him, Christopher knows two things.

1. He’s not getting grounded tonight.

2. His dad knows he knows he’s in love with Buck.

Christopher gets up from the couch and takes a few steps towards him. He wraps his arms around his neck and lets his chin rest on the shoulder that doesn’t hurt. He knows Buck is busy talking with his girlfriend again and that’s why he whispers the next few words in his dad’s ear.

“It’s gonna be okay, dad.” He says. “He loves you too. I know he does. And soon we’re gonna be a happy family. The three of us.”

“Thanks god you’re my kid.” His dad whispers against him, running his hands through his blonde hair. “I have no idea how you managed to figure that out on your own and we’re gonna have a serious conversation about it later tonight but you’re too damn smart for your own good, Christopher.”

“I’ve known for months already.” Christopher simply answers.

“Of course you did.” His father laughs. “Don’t be too mean with Taylor, alright?” He asks, his voice even quieter than a few seconds ago. “She has nothing to do with it. And Buck seems to be happy with her, right?”

“Not as happy as you would make him, though.”

“Oh, definitely not.” His father answers cheekily and Christopher laughs against his shirt. “But we don’t have to tell him that just yet. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

                                                              ***

The first time Christopher hears his dad and Bucky fight, he’s watching Scooby-Doo in the living-room. It’s a Saturday morning and Buck usually watches the episode with him but not today. Today, he’s in the kitchen with his dad and Christopher knows better than to ask him to join him. They seem to be having quite a serious conversation and he would usually be tempted to eavesdrop but Vera is about to reveal the identity of the villain and he doesn’t want to miss that. Plus, he also knows that Buck is going to ask him questions about the episode so he needs to follow everything going on on the screen if he wants to give him a detailed report.

It’s getting harder to focus, though. Not because it’s too complicated to understand. In fact, Christopher is pretty sure the villain is the owner of the big hotel where Fred and the rest of the team all chased ghosts the night before. He usually always guesses it right. Buck doesn’t, though. He gets it wrong every single time and that makes Christopher laugh a lot.

It’s hard to focus because the voices of his dad and Buck are becoming quite loud. He can’t understand what they’re saying though, because there’s also the sound of the TV.

Buck seems mad. Or maybe he’s just confused, Christopher doesn’t really know for sure, but he sounds just like his dad when he keeps asking him to pick up his Legos but he’s too lazy to do it.

“You don’t need to act so petty every single time I mention her, you know. Why do you hate her so much anyway? What did she ever do to you?” Buck says while stepping in the living-room. Christopher darts his eyes towards him but quickly focuses on the episode again. Vera just unmasked the Villain and Christopher smiles when he sees the face of the hotel’s owner. He’s been right about it again.

“I don’t- I don’t hate her.” His dad says.

“Oh cut the crap, Eds!” Buck exclaims and Christopher doesn’t like how loud his voice is. It sounds too serious, too intimidating. “You’re always making sure you’re not in the same room as her. You get so weird and quiet, so passive-aggressive. And the worst part is that she kept telling me she wanted to get to know you better because she knows you’re my best-friend but you never made it easy, man.”

They’re behind him, now. Christopher is pretty sure they both think he’s too engrossed in the episode to notice they’re fighting but they’re both really loud and he couldn’t focus on anything else even if he tried.

“I’m sorry.” He can hear his dad eventually say. “I’m sorry, I- I’ll try harder. I promise.”

“No need to try anymore, Eds. We broke up.” Buck answers and Christopher whirls his head around. His eyes fall on his dad and he seems to be just as surprised as he is.

And Christopher knows he probably shouldn’t be happy about that because Buck must be really sad but if Ms. Taylor is not around anymore then it means that his dad can finally tell him.

“When?” His dad says.

“Last week.” He answers. “I think we both realized we were better off as friends.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Buck looks down and Christopher can see his hands fidget with his keys, just like he does with his pen when he doesn’t understand his homework. “Whatever.” Buck adds. “I’m heading out Eddie, I’ll see you at the aquarium.”

“Buck-”

“Just drop it, Eds.” Buck cuts him off and he’s about to open the front door and Christopher suddenly panics. His dad can’t let Buck leave. He can’t let him leave without telling him why he doesn’t like Ms. Taylor very much. Buck would understand. Christopher knows he would. But his dad doesn't say anything. He stays silent and so Christopher does the only thing he can think of. He moves to action.

“You need to tell him, dad.” He says urgently, getting up from the couch.

“Not now, mijo.”

“Tell me what?” Buck asks and his voice is softer now. Christopher is pretty sure it’s because he noticed he was also in the room and he doesn’t want to scare him.

“Nothing.” His dad says, motioning to the air around him. “It’s not important.”

“But it is!” Christopher exclaims. “It’s important, dad. You waited three months and now you can tell him.” He adds, and ignores the way his dad shakes his head. "Tell him, dad." He repeats. "Please."

“If Christopher says it’s important then I’m pretty sure it is, Eds.” Buck argues and Christopher frantically nods.

Buck can't leave.

But his dad says nothing still. He stays quiet and then Buck sighs and turns toward Christopher instead, smiling warmly at him.

“I’ll see you at the aquarium superman, alright? Your dad and I are going to be okay. We always are.”

“But-”

“I’ll see you later, buddy.” Buck cuts him off and his fingers lower the handle.

“He’s in love with you, Bucky!” He blurts out, and from the way his dad opens his eyes wide and looks at him with a disapproving look on his face, Christopher knows he probably did a huge mistake. But at least Buck stopped moving. He's not leaving. That’s the most important part. It makes the 'being grounded later' part more bearable.

The room is very quiet now and for a few seconds Christopher thinks that maybe he just did something very bad but then Buck speaks and he doesn’t seem mad at all anymore. There’s even a small smile on his face and he looks at his dad and his eyes are shining. Christopher decides that it’s a good thing.

"I- what?" Buck only asks.

“Dios." His dad mutters under his breath. "I can’t believe I’ve been set up by a ten years old.” His dad says and Christopher watches Buck as he laughs.

“Well, he’s always been braver than you.”

“Yeah that’s- that’s an understatement.” His dad answers, looking at Christopher softly.

“How long?” Buck asks and Christopher thinks that maybe he shouldn’t be here anymore. But neither Buck or his dad tell him to go wait in his room and so he stays right there. He really wants to be there for that conversation because he knows it’s very important and also because it’s a bit thanks to him that they’re finally talking.

“I don’t know. A long time, probably. But I just- I didn’t realize until I woke up in this Hospital. That’s why I- That’s why I broke up with Ana.”

His dad doesn’t watch Buck when he talks. His eyes are fixed on the ground. He seems very nervous. Christopher wishes his dad could look at Buck though, because then he would see that there’s no reason to be scared. He would see that Buck is smiling and that he’s not mad. He even looks happy.

“I’m so stupid.” Buck eventually says, huffing out a laugh. That seems to catch his dad’s attention because he suddenly whirls his head around until his eyes fall on his friend. “Sorry. Sorry I- I know it’s not funny but-” Buck marks a pause, and speaks again. “Everything just makes sense, now.”

“How... How come?” His dad asks, shyly. Christopher doesn't think he ever saw his dad being shy before. It's weird.

“I was going to ask you why you didn’t tell me before but that’s what you were trying to do that day, isn’t it? After the hospital. We were in the kitchen. You kept saying it was quite serious but then I mentioned Taylor and you just became really weird.” Buck adds. “I thought you were having a stroke.”

His dad huffs out a laugh. “Asshole.”

“Dad, that’s a bad word.” Christopher intervenes with a proud smile. But it quickly disappears when he thinks about that day. “I’m sorry I got mad at you, Bucky. I- I just knew that my dad wanted to tell you and I was angry. I didn’t mean to be rude with Ms. Taylor either. She was nice. And I also didn’t mean to make you sad but-”

“You were only concerned about your dad.” Buck finishes for him. “I get it, superman. But you should know that your dad is the most important person in my life, alright? After you, of course. And I’ll do my best to keep him happy from now on. I promise. I’m sorry I hurt him.”

“That’s okay, Buck.” Christopher smiles. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He adds. “But maybe you can tell him you love him too now because you promise we would make pancakes before going to the aquarium and I’m hungry.”

“Chris.” His dad warns him again but Christopher smiles cheekily at him.

“Nah you know what superman? I think that’s a great plan.” Buck agrees, taking a few steps towards his dad. “Eds." He says, smiling softly at his dad. "You're an idiot." He cups his cheeks with his hands and makes him look up. "I love you too, you goofball. I only dated Taylor as a vain attempt to get over you.” He says and Christopher has to look away when he finally sees Buck kiss his dad.

“Ew. Gross.” He grimaces, making his dad and Buck laugh.

“Alright, alright, let’s make some pancakes, superman.” Buck says, looking at him with a smile so big. “What are you the most excited to see in the aquarium today?”

“Sharks!” Christopher exclaims.

“That’s a good one, buddy” He answers excitedly and as Buck tells him all about the different kind of sharks that exist, Christopher also notices that he’s holding his dad’s hand the entire time. He only lets it go to prepare the pancakes but even then they stay close and Buck even kisses his cheek at some point. That makes his dad smile and that’s when Christopher knows that this day is just the very first day of the rest of their lives, as a family.

[sithsecrets]

five intimate moments | din djarin x reader

A chronicle of five moments that shaped the Mandalorian’s relationship with his one and only crew member.

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3.5 k words

Mentions: illness, hallucinations induced by a high fever, minor injury to the reader character, NO SMUT!

(This is my first attempt at a Mando fic so please have mercy!!!)

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1.

When the Mandalorian says he wants to hire you as his first and only crew member, you’re taken aback to say the least. Your first impulse is to laugh and tell him that his joke is very funny, because what else could an offer like that be from a man like him? He’s entirely self-sufficient from the look of things, and it’s not like he doesn’t have the credits to buy services from others when he needs them. But one long look into the darkness of that visor tells you at once that what Mando’s said is no jest, tells you that he’s serious.

He tells you that he’ll cut you in ten percent if you help him out a little bit. It’s standard stuff, really, just ship repairs, navigation, and taking care of the baby. You’ve learned a lot under Peli over the last several years, you’ve definitely sat in the pilot’s chair a time or two, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a soft spot for Mando’s weird little baby— so why not? Working for him would get you off this planet, and it would be a change of pace for sure.

Doubt sets in the night before you’re set to go off with the Mandalorian, though Peli waves your feelings off pretty readily.

“You’re being stupid,” she tells you bluntly. “He’s a Mandalorian. Just do as you’re told, help him with the kid, and let him keep to himself if he wants to. Everything’ll be fine.”

Peli’s words are of some comfort, though anxiety is still fluttering in your gut the next morning. You say your goodbyes to your mentor and the droids, and then you’re flying off in the Razor Crest on the way to somewhere.

The first day is strange as you try to pick your way around your new home, and you spend much of your time feeling as though you’re snooping around in someone else’s space. The Mandalorian is just as quiet as you thought he’d be, clanging around in his armor doing this and that while you try to make yourself busy. You run out of tasks quickly, however, and it makes you skin itch to sit idle like this.

You watch for nearly an hour as Mando fiddles with the mechanics in one of his arm guards, cursing under his breath through the modulator as he picks at this and that. You think you know what the problem is, but you’re not sure you’re brave enough to tell him that. Finally, though, you can’t let him struggle anymore.

“Let me see,” you declare, cringing as you realize your tone was more commanding than you’d meant for it to be. But Mando says nothing to this, letting you take hold of his arm without uttering so much as a sound. Just as you thought, there’s an issue farther up the guard, one he’d overlooked. A little soldering here, a change of wires there, and then the thing’s good as new again.

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says, and you can feel his eyes on you through the visor.

“It’s what you hired me for.” You laugh nervously then, suddenly shy under the attention. “Gotta show you I’m not completely useless somehow, right?”

The Mandalorian stands, headed for the ladder on the other side of the room.

“Don’t call yourself useless.”

This is said without so much as a glance over his shoulder, and you find yourself rushing to explain for no apparent reason.

“I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did.” The Mandalorian pauses with one foot on the first rung, finally turning to look at you now. “You’re not useless.”

 2.

The Razor Crest’s interior, in the grand tradition of spaces owned and maintained by single men, is in desperate need of a tune-up. There’s a bit of clutter here and there, and the walls and surfaces and well, everything else could do with a good scrubbing. It’s a big project to say the least, but you think you can tackle it given enough time and supplies.

The perfect window for such an undertaking opens up just a few days after the idea strikes you. Mando’s got another assignment, and it’s brought you to a relatively safe planet nearer to the Outer Core. He’ll be gone a few days, or so he says, and you know already that the market in town will be the perfect place to get what you need.

You set about your task the same day the Mandalorian leaves to set about his, the baby secured to your chest in a makeshift sling. It’s a good thing you brought him, too, because his charm helps you score several bargains along the way.

Organizing everything takes almost a whole day by itself, but after that, the cleaning is easy. You scrub and dust and mop until everything sparkles, and then it’s time to do laundry and see if you can make some functioning garments out of the scraps you find in Mando’s small closet. The clothes he wears aren’t rags by any means, but a little patching here and mending there gives him two more shirts and another pair of pants to work with.

It takes two more days for Mando to come home after you’re done, and he notes the changes immediately. He stops dead in the little hall between the main hull and the place where he keeps his carbonite-contained quarries, looking to the left and then to the right very slowly. You can’t tell if he likes what you’ve done at first, his expression obscured by that damn helmet like it always is.

“I didn’t touch your weapons,” you declare, holding up your hands as if to ward off whatever anger Mando’s about to level at you. But he doesn’t get upset, doesn’t cuss or ask you what the hell your were thinking, so you think it’s safe to go on.

“I scrubbed the whole interior, organized some of the stuff you had laying around, and made myself a better place to sleep.”

You gesture to the pallet you’ve made for yourself on the floor, proud of how you’ve managed to tuck it out of the way. That was the problem with your old spot— Mando had to step around you a lot, and it was becoming impractical. This new space comfortable, too, plush thanks to some cushions and blankets you managed to score in the market. You even have pillows now, but this is something you delight in privately.

The Mandalorian stands silently before you, and you prattle on, showing him this and that.

“I got the baby a couple of outfits to wear, one for colder weather and one for warmer weather. I mended some of your old clothes and washed everything that was here, so that’s done.” You shut the door to the little wardrobe and go to Mando’s bunk, pushing the button so he can see inside. “The woman that sells upholstered goods in the market really liked the Child, so she gave me a great deal. I managed to get you a decent mattress, or something close to it, and a couple of new pillows. She fixed up your old quilt for me too, so I hope it’s warmer now…”

You trail off, words escaping you under the intensity of Mando’s gaze. He’s staring you down properly now, the visor trained right on your face.

“Why did you do all of this?” he asks, gesturing to his bunk, the wardrobe. The thought crosses your mind that perhaps you should have asked before you messed with his things, his sleeping space, and a wave of something not unlike embarrassment sweeps over you.

“I— Mando, I’m sorry, I should have—”

But the Mandalorian still isn’t cross, cutting you off before you can finish apologizing. “Don’t apologize for anything. This is… This is…” He stares at his bed for a long moment, searching for his words. “Thank you.”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach flutter, though you can’t decide if that’s good or bad.

 3.

The cough is innocuous enough when it starts, just a tickle in the back of your throat that comes on one afternoon. You brush it off as allergies, even telling Mando you’re fine when he asks about it that night.

Two days later, you’re bedridden.

Mando insists you’re absolutely burning up even as you shiver and shake beneath a virtual mountain of blankets, so cold that you think you’ll never be warm again. He forces you to sip on broth and water, though it all settles like sludge in your stomach. It must be bad, whatever you have— you must look bad— because the Mandalorian’s façade is slipping. He’s having full-blown conversations with the baby now, asking the little green infant if he thinks it’s a good idea to cut this hunt short, if he thinks you can be left alone for even just a few hours while he collects the last quarry. And though your body is aching, though you can practically feel the fever cooking your brain at this point, you tell him to finish the job. He made an agreement, and you know it’ll kill Mando not to honor it— you’ll be fine by yourself.

The two of you touch down on some planet in the Outer Rim, and then Mando’s practically running out of the ship. He promises to be back within the day, the sincerity in his voice managing to pierce the haze clouding your mind, and the ache in your bones makes you hope he means it.

Sometime later, you begin to hear a voice coming from the ‘fresher, one that taunts and teases you. It speaks nonsense on and off, but the clearer messages are frightening nonetheless. The voice says that Mando’s not coming back, that he’s left you here forever. Why else would he have taken the baby, hm? He doesn’t care for you, he’s not going to help you.

“Yes, he is,” you retort weakly, becoming more and more upset with each passing hour as this faceless thing continues to fill your head with words and threats. Somewhere in the very back of your fever-addled brain, you know that none of this is real, that all of this is a fever dream. But still, you weep and twist in your bed, scared that the Mandalorian really has abandoned you.

True to his word, though, Mando’s back in record time. You cry out for him the minute you hear footsteps inside the ship, and even the quarry grows quiet at the sound of your voice. Things are hazy after that, but you know that Mando comes to you after just a few minutes, promising over and over again that you’ll be better soon.

You and the Mandalorian and the baby fly somewhere together, this much you know, and Mando comes to sit on the floor with you once the Crest is in hyperspace.

“We’ll be there soon,” he tells you, voice tense and nervous through the modulator. He shushes you when you become upset all over again, emotions stirred by more taunting from the voice in the ‘fresher.

“Make it stop,” you cry, so very weak, “please make it stop. It’s so mean, Mando.”

“Hey, hey,” the Mandalorian cuts, pressing a gloved hand to your forehead. “Nothing can hurt you while I’m here, I won’t let it. I’ll stay right here until we get you to a doctor, I promise.”

And that’s enough to calm you for a few hours, it’s enough to help you fall asleep. You only wake again when you feel arms around your body, when the plushness of your mattress is no longer underneath you.

“Come on,” Mando says, talking to himself as much as he’s talking to you. “The medic will fix this. He’ll fix this, and everything will be fine.”

The medic the Mandalorian takes you to does fix this, but things are touch and go for a few hours there. Your fever breaks in just a couple of hours, thank the Maker, but you’re still very weak from being so sick for so long. You spend two days confined to a medbay bed before you’re deemed well enough to be discharged, and even then, it takes about a week before you’re truly feeling like yourself again.

It’s not until much later that you realize Mando never left your bedside once, and not for the first time do you find yourself wondering what something like that means coming from a man like him.

4.

Mando’s been gone nearly two weeks, and the baby’s beginning to lose it just the slightest bit. He doesn’t talk, of course, not in a way you can understand, but you know he misses his father. If the Child isn’t in a sour mood, he cries, and you’ve caught him playing in Mando’s clothes more than once. It’s stressful, taking care of the baby when he’s like this, but you understand how he feels. You feel strange and almost embarrassed to admit it, but you miss the Mandalorian too. The rational part of you knows it would be best to chalk it up to proximity, but you know in your heart that it’s a little more than that. But just because you know this doesn’t mean you accept it, and you tamp down the feeling at every turn, focusing instead on getting the Child through this rough period.

At the sixteen-day mark, the baby refuses to sleep in his pram entirely, insisting instead that Mando’s bunk will do much better. And you would be fine with that, all things considered, if he wasn’t insistent that you climb in there with him as well.

“Bug, I know you want Mando to come home, and I know you like sleeping with me when he’s not here, but I’m not getting in there with you.”

The baby makes a most discontent noise, pulling on your fingers so hard that he tumbles back onto Mando’s mattress when he lets go. You tell him once again that you won’t be invading his father’s space like that, and then the Child is crying, sobbing so hard his little shoulders shake beneath his baggy outfit. I’m too tired for this, you think to yourself, and you finally give the baby what he wants.

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, climbing up into the bunk with a sigh. “But we’re not telling him about this.”

The Child is soothed at once, snuggling down beside you in Mando’s blankets as if he was never upset in the first place. You lie beside him in the dark, eyes already growing heavy as you breathe in the scent of the covers around you, the scent of the pillow beneath your head. All at once, you realize that this is what Mando probably smells like under all the armor and the weapons. Something about that only serves to make this whole thing feel even more like a violation, but you force that thought out of your mind.

At some point, you do drift off, only the be woken hours later by the feeling of a hand on your ankle. And there the Mandalorian is, standing before you in the flesh (and beskar) after all those days away.

“You’re in my bed,” he says to you, though there’s no edge to the words. It’s a simple statement of fact, a plain observation.

“We missed you,” is all you have to say in explanation, though it takes you about three seconds too long to realize which pronoun you chose to throw out in the front there. Now properly awake, you go to cover the mistake, but Mando cuts you off as he is so wont to do.

“I missed you too,” he says slowly, voice dropping almost to a whisper. “Both of you.”

5.

You realize that Nevarro may not be as safe as you thought about three seconds after a man with a vibroblade demands you hand over all the credits you have. You try to flee on impulse, your mind focused on protecting the baby—

Right up until the man catches your shirt, using the natural momentum of the action to propel you right into his clenched fist. Searing hot pain blooms behind your eye, spreading across the entire side of your face and into your nose. You’re completely stunned, unable to so much as form a coherent thought as your attacker moves to hit you again.

It’s like everything happens in slow-motion after that. One minute, your assailant is bearing down on you with murder in his eyes— the next, he’s grimacing, falling to the ground with thud. Two voices urge you to follow them now, and there are hands on your shoulders, your back. You’re so disoriented that it takes you a moment to realize that there are two fucking Mandalorians in your face, but when you do, the urge to fight back leaves you immediately.

Neither Mando is your Mandalorian, but you follow them anyway. They usher you into a tunnel system beneath the city, telling you to turn this way and that, and you do as they say without question. For some reason, they know you— they know your name, and they certainly know the baby because they ask about him the moment the lot of you are concealed. About a thousand questions swim around in your mind as you follow the Mandalorians deeper and deeper into the tunnels, but you aren’t given a chance to ask a single one.

Finally, you’re allowed to stop in a smith of some sort, coming to stand before a Mandalorian woman sheathed in maroon and gold. She regards you for a long moment, pausing over her work to take in the sight of your face, the way you clutch the baby protectively against your chest.

“Fetch him,” is all that she says, speaking to one of your saviors, and they turn and leave without a word.

A period of time elapses before you hear movement in the hall, though you can’t be sure how long. What you are sure of, though, is that you hear Mando’s voice drawing near, and the wave of relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. You’re safe here, of course— anyone would be, surrounded by this many Mandalorians— but… but they’re not him.

“What happened?”

It’s the first thing Mando says to you, picking up the pace once he lays eyes on your injuries. You’re taken aback by how he crowds you, how he lets his gloved hands linger on your cheek.

“She was attacked by a chakaar,” says the Armorer, speaking from workspace. “He will not be bothering anyone again, though.”

Mando is satisfied by this, thanking his brothers and sisters for protecting you and his child. You thank them as well, though it’s hard to tell if the sentiment lands with the Mandalorians. The Armorer is the only one who responds at all, saying, “You are our brother’s cyar’ika,” she explains, confusing you with a word you don’t recognize, “we as his brothers and sisters must protect you. This is the Way.”

“The is the Way,” intones the group, and then you’re being ushered from the room, tucked under Mando— your Mando’s— arm.

The walk back to the ship is a quiet one, though the Child coos happily. He seems largely unaffected by all of this, even dozing off in his pram as though he’s had an uneventful afternoon. You’re glad he’s asleep, knowing it’ll give you and Mando some time to talk. You want to ask him about what the Armorer said, what that word meant. Mando’s cyar… cyar’ika? Is that what she’d called you?

But you don’t get the chance to speak a word, because Mando crushes you against him the moment you get the baby settled. His arms are strong around your back, the sensation of being held by him effectively knocking the air from your lungs. When he finally lets you go, every question you had stuffed in your mind is gone.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” the Mandalorian says to you, sounding more distraught than you ever thought possible. You shake your head at that— how could he possibly have known?

“I’m fine, Mando,” you press. “Don’t worry about my face, it’s—”

“I should have been there.”

The both of you just look at one another after that, and the Mandalorian doesn’t flinch away when you lay your hand on the side of his helmet. You know at once that everything is different now, but you need to hear it just to be sure.

“That woman—”

“The Armorer,” Mando corrects.

“The Armorer,” you begin again, speaking slowly and deliberately. “What did she mean when she said what she said about me? What is a cyar… cyar’ika?”

Mando’s hand comes up, and his glove is cool on your uninjured cheek.

“’Beloved,’” he says softly, “’cyar’ika’ means ‘beloved.’”

You think your heart’s going to beat right out of your chest, but you force yourself not to be calm.

“If you’re going to call me your cyar’ika,” you whisper, afraid you’ll shout if you don’t, “then what should I call you?”

“Din. You can call me Din.”

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear.  The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive. 

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it.  “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

--

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store. 

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios. 

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas. 

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

--

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of  her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window. 

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

--

(read part 3 here)

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

[pain-somnia]

Title: Take Me Now, I’m In Too Far Rating: M (for sexual content) Disclaimer Playlist Art Credit: @inknigella​ (used with permission) Day’s Notes: I have recently updated this fic on Patreon. It is one of three fics of mine exclusive to Patreon, but here’s a chance to read Part 1 of my “exes as roommates” AU. This fic is dear to me in almost the same way Kingdom For Two is. The fic started as a simple Roommates AU, but then was molded into something else when I decided to add the fact that they were exes. I wanted to write about two people that love each other a lot but growing up and becoming “real” adults made things difficulty. If you would like to give this fic a chance and enjoy Part 1, you can find Part 2 & Part 3 on Patreon. Here is a link to the tag for this fic. I have opened up the $1 tier permanently for access to exclusive fics and early access to publicly posted fics, but I have other tiers with different perks. One of the perks for certain tiers are PDFs that contain exclusive art that will only be found in full on my Patreon (or in some cases Cj’s Patreon). The above banner was created with a preview of one of the many works Ink has provided to help bring my work to life.

I hope you all enjoy the first part of this fic and consider becoming one of my patrons 😊

Part One

She was going to kill Karin. And her stupid boyfriend. She was going to kill Karin and her boyfriend and then take back the armchair she let them have as a moving-in-together gift.

Sakura wasn’t that surprised when Karin told her she was moving out. She had been spending so much time at Suigetsu’s apartment, it was as if she had already moved out months ago. It was only a matter of time before the two of them would officially move in together.

Karin had been considerate and had found her a new roommate before she gave her the news. And although Sakura wasn’t too keen on the idea of living with a stranger—a man at that—she was willing to put up with it for her friend’s happiness.

At least for a few months while she looked for a new place if possible.

Unfortunately for Sakura, she couldn’t set a day to actually meet her new roommate before he was set to move in. Their schedules conflicted most days so Karin went ahead and took care of all of the necessary paperwork and was present when he moved in. With how things had begun, Sakura assumed she wouldn’t meet her new roommate until her day off.

She hadn’t expected to run into him as she was leaving for work at the bakery at three in the morning and he was coming home smelling of booze.

She definitely didn’t expect to see her ex-boyfriend holding a key to her apartment.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sasuke muttered, running a hand through his messy, jet black hair.

“You’re my new roommate?” Sakura scoffed, wringing her hands in the scarf she was attempting to put on on her way out. “How did you not know that I was Karin’s roommate?”

Sasuke looked at her impassively for a moment, as if mulling over what he wanted to say before pushing past her and saying, “I’m going to bed.”

“What? We’re not even going to talk about this?”

“If we start now, you’re going to be late for work,” he called back to her without turning around. “Can’t have that can we?”

Sakura scoffed but couldn’t retort. He was right. If she missed her bus she was going to have to wait for the next one and it would cause her to be late.

She wanted nothing more than to bang on his bedroom door and demand that he come out and speak with her. How could he just go to sleep!?

“We’re talking when I get back!” She shouted, grabbing the front door. Sakura waited but there was no response. She growled in frustration and slammed the door behind her on her way out.

.

.

“Have you been taking your anger out on dough again?” Ino commented dryly between page flips of a cake catalogue, pointing out cute designs to the toddler sitting on her lap and cooing.

Sakura rubbed her temple with the heel of her palm and sighed. It was one in the afternoon and she had spent the day busy working on custom orders. At the moment she was sitting through a consultation with her childhood friend who needed to order a birthday cake for her son, Inojin. She had tried to throw herself into baking and packaging orders but now that there was a slow down where it was only her and two of the shop clerks, her mind was free to think about how her ex was now living with her.

“You know how Karin moved out and found me a roommate?”

“Uh-huh, it was kind of unexpected. Isn’t it a little early though? They’ve only been dating for━”

“Sasuke is the roommate she found me.”

“Holy━sorry, honey.” Ino interrupted herself and covered her son’s ears. “Holy shit!”

“I wanted to call her and chew her out but in her defense, she doesn’t know he’s my ex-boyfriend.” Sakura slumped in her seat, took a fork and dug into one of the cake slices she brought out for tasting. “When I did get a chance to talk to her earlier, she said that apparently Suigetsu is best buddies with him and Kiba. Kiba and Sasuke were rooming with their friend Shino but the lease was coming to an end and Shino was moving away for a teaching job and Kiba decided to move in with his fiancée. So━”

“So Sasuke needed a new place quick and conveniently Suigetsu knew a place close enough to his workplace and with someone that desperately needed a new roommate.”

Sakura tossed the fork over her shoulder in defeat and dropped her head into her hands. Ino reached over and patted her arm in a comforting manner.

“I give you guys two weeks.”

“Two weeks for what?” Sakura lifted her head up to narrow her eyes at Ino. “Before we kill each other?”

Ino covered Inojin’s ears one more time and said, “Two weeks before you’re fucking.”

“Ino!” Sakura sat up, looking affronted, hand clutching the front of her apron.

“You guys used to go at it like rabbits,” Ino gave her a sly smile, “and it’s not like you guys broke up because you grew to hate each other.”

“That was years ago, Ino.” Sakura rolled her eyes and pushed the cake slices closer to Inojin. He immediately sank his fingers into the cake and ate from his hands. “He’s probably moved on anyway.”

“It was the stupidest break up.”

“I know it was, but we were so busy and our schedules never aligned. It was frustrating.” Sakura sighed and stared off into space. “It’s been four years…”

Ino took out some wet wipes and cleaned Inojin’s chubby fingers. “So what are you going to do?”

Sakura shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Ino looked at her incredulously. “You’re just going to live with him and not do a thing about it.”

“I didn’t even notice he was there for three days already.” Sakura shrugged again. “And our schedules never sync up. I really don’t think it will be an issue.”

“Unless he brings someone home,” Ino said the words slowly so Sakura couldn’t miss what she was telling her.

“He’s not as insensitive as that.” Sakura crossed her arms in front of her chest. The action was to get as close to hugging herself without actually doing it.

The truth was that the Sasuke she knew wasn’t insensitive. But she didn’t know this Sasuke; a Sasuke that was twenty-five instead of the twenty year old she knew and loved.

.

.

The new apartment was a lot closer to the tattoo parlor he worked at than his old place. It was one of the things that sold him on it when Suigetsu mentioned that Karin was moving in with him and leaving her old roomie without. That and the washer and dryer included in the apartment which meant no more paying at a laundromat or to use the communal laundry center.

Sasuke wasn’t too keen on sharing a space with a woman he didn’t know but Karin insisted that his roommate was clean and quiet and that with her work schedule he wouldn’t be running into her except on Sundays when her bakery was closed.

Bakery.

That was the first sign that had him want to put the pen down and walk away. Because baking is what she wanted to do for a living. But what were the odds that Karin was talking about her? There were tons of bakeries in the city and Sakura didn’t own one the last time he checked.

But that was five years ago when she was nineteen and too young. She was still pretty young to be a business owner but with Sakura’s tenacity there was a highly likely chance that she would have her own shop. And wasn’t that one of the reasons she had been saving every penny she could when she started working?

Shaking his head of all of those thoughts, he had signed the documents that would transfer him as the new leasee replacing Karin.

It wasn’t until he was moving in that Sasuke found out who exactly Karin’s roommate had been.

Suigetsu and he were bringing in boxes while Karin gave him a tour of the apartment when he saw the photos on the wall. Anyone could dye their hair pink but what were the odds that another pink haired woman around Karin’s age would have gone to Catholic school for high school and wore the same uniform that Sakura used to prance around in.

“Sakura is pretty sentimental so she has photos all over the apartment,” he distantly heard Karin explain as he examined all of the photos that were lined up in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Come check out the bathroom. It’s pretty big ‘cause the washer and dryer are set up in there. There’s a door to block out that area from the toilet and shower cabin for some privacy. It’s frosted glass but you can’t really see what’s going on on the other side.”

Karin hadn’t been friends with Sakura when the two of them had been dating so he couldn’t fault her for not knowing but Suigetsu did know that Sakura was his ex.

An ex he was still kind of hung up on.

Which is why after work he headed to the bar with Kiba and Tamaki, Kiba’s fiancée. They were supposed to celebrate him finding a new place but after Kiba asked why Suigetsu wasn’t there, Sasuke explained that he was banned from their usual bar for a few weeks because he let him move in with his ex without warning him.

If he was lucky he would never have to run into Sakura while he was living there. Because wasn’t that the cause of their breakup before? With her busy culinary school schedule and apprenticeship and then his work at the parlor running into late at night, they barely saw each other.

So stumbling in slightly drunk and a little high at three in the morning, Sasuke didn’t expect to see her on the other side of the apartment door in the middle of bundling up for the November cold.

Sakura still looked like she did at nineteen but different at the same time. Her face had lost most of the roundness of youth, but her figure was no longer as slim. She was still on the thin side, but unlike Karin who was all sharp edges and harsh angles, Sakura had filled out either with age or from eating one too many of her own cupcakes.

Sasuke ran a hand through his hair before tucking the arm it was attached to behind his head. He was finding it difficult to stay asleep which was all he had planned on doing before work for the day. Sakura had said something about talking later and he had been dreading having to have the conversation. He vaguely recalled saying something snarky about her running late for work. No doubt she would be upset over that.

The conversation was going to happen. But considering he would be gone before she came home from work, who knew when it would actually take place.

If he was lucky, she would wait until they were home and not find him at work like she used to.

.

.

When Sasuke first met Sakura she was wearing all of the cliche warning signs.

He was busy sketching when she strolled into the shop. Sasuke was supposed to be manning the reception desk and was likely to get bitched at by his cousin’s best friend for not paying attention.

“Hey,” greeted a cheerful voice.

Looking up from his sketchbook, Sasuke blinked in confusion at what he was seeing. Before him stood two teenage girls wearing the dark green tartan patterned pleated skirt and white button down shirt of a school uniform. The blonde one had a sweater wrapped around her waist but the slightly shorter girl with rose gold hair had a cream colored school cardigan with the school crest emblazoned on the left side of her chest.

“Our Lady of Sorrows is seven blocks,” Sasuke pointed out the door, “that way.”

“We have an appointment.” The blonde girl blew a bubble with her gum and popped it. “The school day also ended like an hour ago, dude.”

Raising an eyebrow, he flipped through the appointment book and asked, “names?”

“Ino Yamanaka and Sakura Haruno,” the girl with the pink hair answered, pointing at the girl that matched the names she gave. “We have an appointment with my cousin Sasori.”

Looking down the schedule log there it was. The new piercer did have an appointment with an Ino and a Sakura.

“Aren’t piercings prohibited at catholic schools?” Sasuke asked, eyeing the uniforms.

“Yeah, but you can’t get caught if you get them where the nuns can’t see them.” The pink haired girl winked at him, green eyes sparkling mischievously.

“What kind of piercings are you getting then?” He asked, taking out the waiver forms.

“Belly button for Ino.” The blonde girl raised her hand and took her form and filled out the form.

He turned to Sakura and waited for her answer. Her lips turned upwards at the corners in a coy smile.

“Hips.”

Even now, if Sasuke closed his eyes and concentrated on the memory of Sakura swiveling her hips as he thrust up into her, he could see the jewelry twinkling at him as she dipped her hips.

A lot of years had gone by since that first encounter and Sasuke was no longer the shop slave he was during his apprenticeship and Sakura was no longer that rebellious catholic school girl.

It didn’t stop him from wondering if her dermals were still in place or if after all those years her skin rejected the piercings and they had to be removed.

“What’s up with you, kid?” He felt someone ruffle his hair and he swatted at the air. The only one that had the courage to do so was Konan, one of their piercers.

“Nothing,” he replied, sanitizing the tattoo bed before his next client showed up.

“His ex girlfriend found out he lives with her,” Kiba cackled from his work station. Sasuke took his discarded gloves and threw them across the room until they hit him with a smack. “Ow!”

“Why would that be a surprise?” Konan asked. Sasuke made himself busy taking needles to the autoclave to avoid responding.

“She works baker’s hours,” Sasuke heard Kiba responding for him. “They have opposing schedules so Sui’s girlfriend took care of everything.”

“Good luck with that.”  Konan went to the reception counter to check the appointment book. She had already moved on from the conversation.

I’m going to need more than luck, Sasuke grumbled inwardly.

.

.

Sakura drummed her fingers against her mug, nails clinking against the ceramic. She knew Sasuke wouldn’t get home until late so she called the co-owner of her bakery and asked her to oversee the baking of the everyday  goods the following morning.

While Sakura mostly ran the show in the kitchen—Hinata being too soft and gentle to command the staff—she was mostly the cake artist and worked on custom orders. It was a lot more relaxed than the job she had as a pastry chef for the high end hotel in the city, but it still demanded a lot of her time.

She could spend hours of her day just to work on a cake that would still take her three days to make all of the components for it.

It wasn’t until one in the morning that the front door creaked open, keys jingling as they were pulled out of the lock.

“You stayed up.” Sasuke toed his boots off and lined them up next to hers. The leather work boots were of a popular brand so they hadn’t alarmed Sakura despite them being part of Sasuke’s signature look.

Sakura stood up from his seat at the couch and wrapped her oversized cardigan tighter around her body. She hugged herself, feeling exposed in her pajamas. “I said we had to talk.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” Sasuke tossed his keys on the kitchen island. Sakura grabbed them and placed them on a wall hook next to her own set of keys. “I need a place to live, you need a roommate. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Sakura asked, voice soft and slow, urging him to re-examine their situation. When he continued to stare at her impassively, Sakura scoffed.

“I didn’t know you were Karin’s roommate until I was moving in.”

“I know.” Sakura ran a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs back. Sasuke wasn’t a liar. At least the Sasuke she knew wasn’t a liar. “I know.”

“So is this the end of the discussion?” Sasuke’s eyes drifted from her to the hallway behind her. It was late and all he wanted was to get to bed. “I don’t really see any problem with us living together. You didn’t even notice that I was here for three days.”

The problem is that I never got over you. “Alright, if there’s no problem then let’s go over the rules.”

“Rules?” Sasuke gave her a blank look.

“Yes, rules. Karin and I had them and now so will we.”

“Okay.” Sasuke crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the island. “What are your rules?”

“Rule number one: no fucking on the couch.”

Sasuke’s eyes went wide and he choked on an inhale. “That’s a rule you guys had or is that one you made for me?”

“That was an actual rule we had.” Sakura shivered in disgust. “Suigetsu has a very pale ass.”

“Yeah, everyone’s seen more of Sui than they’ve ever wanted to.”

“Rule number two: toilet seat needs to be put back down after use.”

“Okay, that’s definitely one you made up for me.” Sasuke stood you straighter and looked her up and down. “Do I get to make rules too?”

“I will consider them.”

“Alright.” Sasuke was silent for a moment as he pondered. “No obnoxious noises such as vacuuming when you know the other is sleeping.”

“That’s reasonable.” Sakura sat down on one of the bar stools at the island and took out her notepad. She took out a pen and wrote down a few lines. “I do my laundry twice a week━Wednesdays and Sundays, usually around noon. Having a schedule kind of helps out ‘cause the laundry room is in the bathroom.”

They went back and forth writing down rules and going over each other’s work schedule. Sakura tapped the pen on the table and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to step on any toes or be misunderstood but she needed to bring up an uncomfortable topic.

“No overnight guests.” Sasuke raised an eyebrow and in a rush to recover Sakura blurted out, “for either of us! At least not without a heads up. I don’t want to be walking around in my underwear and there’s a stranger in my home.”

“Why would you be walking around in your━?”

“I sleep like that sometimes!” Sakura snapped, cheeks heating up. “I wake up to use the bathroom or get water and I’m too drowsy to consider pants.”

“Why do you sleep in your underwear if you get cold easily?” Sasuke’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I come home too tired to change so I just sleep in my underwear.” Sakura stomped her foot. Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “Don’t judge me!”

“Just remember that I live here now and will see your ass if you decide that pants are too much,” Sasuke yawned, “effort. I’m going to bed now.”

Sakura watched him head to his room with a frown on her face. It wasn’t until she heard the lock on his door click that she let out an exhausted sigh.

Does he have to look cute when he’s sleepy?

.

.

“Is this too much for a three year old’s birthday?” Sakura sat back and looked thoughtfully at her sketch with her chin resting on her fist.

Hinata shrugged as she continued to pipe buttercream flowers. “I mean it’s more for Ino, isn't it?”

“God,” Sakura rolled her eyes, “it really is. I’m sure Inojin would be happy with a dinosaur on a cake instead of a dinosaur made out of cake.”

Hinata giggled softly as she continued to make a bouquet out of cupcakes. She was working on cupcakes for a bridal shower. Sakura had helped her with the structure to make it appear that it was suspended in the air and now all she had to do was decorate it.

When Sakura had met Hinata, the young woman wasn’t the best baker. It was an issue of confidence and being unsure if it was the best decision she had made. Upon discovering that Hinata had a few years to become a successful baker or get married to a man her father chose, Sakura took her under her wing and when they were ready they used Hinata’s trust fund to secure a location.

At that point Sakura already had a reputation for her cake sculptures so they lucked out.

Just because Sakura couldn’t be with the person she loved, it didn’t mean she was going to watch someone give up on their dream and marry someone they were forced to.

“So how has Tinder been working out for you?” Sakura drawled as she took out the ingredients she was going to need.

“I prefer Bumble, actually,” Hinata mumbled, face flushing pink. “You know it’s weird describing myself as pleasantly plump. Usually I would just say fat or chubby.”

“But you are pleasantly plump,” Sakura teased her. “And good call on Bumble. Message any guys?”

“I might have,” Hinata muttered under her breath, face turning a dark shade of red.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

“We only met for coffee!” Hinata insisted over Sakura’s laughter. Sakura waved her hand at her and tried to reign in her laughter. It was quiet in the kitchen until Hinata said, “I wouldn’t have minded though. He has such pretty blue eyes.”

Sakura only stopped laughing when Hinata threw buttercream at her face.

The assistants walked in from the front of the shop to find Sakura covered in pink and purple frosting, armed with a piping bag full of green frosting, and Hinata shielding her cupcake sculpture.

.

.

Sakura was exhausted by the time she got home. It was one of those rare days where she didn’t get home until late. There was so much math and engineering into creating cake sculptures and trial and error.

She slumped against her apartment door and groaned. She had just unlocked the door but had no energy to push it open.

“You’re almost there, don’t pass out now.” Turning slightly, Sakura mumbled incoherently at the sight of Sasuke holding a take out bag. “Jesus Christ, you’re dead on your feet.”

“Carry me,” Sakura grumbled.

Sighing to himself, Sasuke handed her the bag of takeout and crouched down, scooping her legs up and cradling her. “How the fuck did Karin deal with you? She’s twiggy.”

“Suigetsu was usually around or she’d drag me across the floor.” Sakura opened the bag of food and examined the contents as Sasuke set her down on the couch. “Anything I’d like in here?”

“I thought you would be sleeping, but I have some stuff you could tolerate.” He grabbed two plates and brought them to the coffee table and began to serve her some of his food. “Do you ever take a break?”

“I have a day off tomorrow technically.”

“But you’re going to go to work.” Sasuke shook his head, unruly hair swaying around his face. “Typical.”

And with that Sakura lost all desire to eat despite not having had anything to eat all day except for some bread and tastings.

“Hey, where are you? It’s getting weird just sitting here. I can order right now if you’re nearby.”

“Oh, shoot! Sasuke I’m sorry but I’m still at work.”

“Wasn't today your day off?”

So what if she was a “workaholic?” If she were a man no one would see anything wrong with how much she worked.

She knew that eventually she was going to be faced with reminders of what a shitty girlfriend she had been, but she had hoped that she would be alone as she looked back on all of the mistakes she had made.

Sasuke had forgiven her for the first missed date but once he had been stood up a second, third, fourth, fifth time he stopped making any plans for them.

“I gotta take this coat off,” Sakura mumbled, fumbling with the buttons. Sasuke reached over and helped her get free of her coat and then hung it up on the hooks by the door. If he was going to be this nice for the duration of the time they lived together, the shittier she was going to feel.

“Karin said you owned a bakery. When did that happen?” He handed her a plate full of food, much more food than Sakura would have served herself, but one look from Sasuke had her clamming up and taking the set of chopsticks he placed flat across her palm.

“A few years ago…” Sakura swallowed a bite of dumpling. “It was kind of an accident.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow and paused in his chewing. Sakura laughed through her nose and explained to him how she had met Hinata.

She had been working at the same high end hotel she had done her apprenticeship when Hinata had been hired on the spot. The tiny, plump woman was quiet and stuttered when speaking to her coworkers because no one wanted her there.

Hinata had been hired because of her last name—the hotel being owned by the Hyūga family—with no references nor any culinary school training which was required to work at the Michelin star hotel restaurant. Due to the fact they were around the same age and because she was the newest hire, Sakura was tasked with watching over the woman. No one else would take up the responsibility thinking that Hinata would hold them back.

Sakura just couldn’t leave Hinata alone. She reminded her so much of herself when she was younger. She helped to train her during her off time and guided her through the French techniques that Sakura had been trained in.

The desire to learn and the drive was there, hidden under the fear of failure.

Sakura moved on to work at a custom cake shop where she could use more of her artistic abilities. Eventually the owner was ready to retire and was willing to sell the store to her.

She wanted to own her shop one day. It was part of her goals but brick and mortar shops were expensive. If it weren’t for Hinata’s trust fund she would never have been able to afford the shop. The two of them had kept in touch and when Sakura found out that Hinata was on her way to quitting being a pastry chef, they made plans to go into business together.

Sasuke listened to her story, never interjecting but nodding at certain intervals and slight facial shifts showing that Sakura still had his attention.

“So what have you been up to?” Sakura asked, digging through the leftover noodles in one of the cartons.

“I still work at the same shop. I moved out a few years ago. Funnily enough it was my mom that was on my case not my dad.”

“Really?” Sakura was genuinely shocked.

When she had last seen Fugaku he wasn’t the biggest supporter of Sasuke’s chosen profession. He had paid for him to go to art school, not to waste his talent working at a tattoo parlor. His mother, Mikoto, was the one that had always been his personal cheerleader.

“I think it was all of the new ink,” Sasuke gestured to his sleeve covered arms, “that really did it for my mom. She always made faces at them and commented about what kind of girl I thought I would be attracting with them.”

I always liked your tattoos. Sakura shrugged and stuffed noodles into her mouth to keep from commenting out loud.

When Sakura was just freshly eighteen and finishing her final year of high school, Sasuke was the exact kind of guy her grandmother had wanted her to stay away from. She had left money behind in her will for Sakura to attend the same school she and Sakura’s mother, Mebuki, had attended.

Our Lady of Sorrows was a Catholic private school that Sakura’s parents wouldn’t have been able to afford without the money her grandmother had left behind. She had probably hoped that Sakura would go to private school, be abstinent, go to college and then medical school and then eventually marry a doctor.

It was too bad that Sakura preferred to be in the kitchen with her father a lot more than she cared for her school. If they had let her stay in public school there may have been a better chance of her focusing on her studies and eventually going to medical school like her grandma had wanted her to. Sakura had been miserable at Our Lady of Sorrows, her only solace being Ino and baking.

And Sasuke.

Sasuke had been the kind of cliché salvation a teenage girl fantasized about. And she still couldn’t believe that at one point in their lives, she had been his.

.

.

Ino cut off the boy that usually sat at the desk in front of Sakura and slid into the seat, a manic look in her eyes. “Guess what?”

“I’m not playing this game,” Sakura laughed, completely ignoring the boy that was frowning at Ino.

“Well, fine. Be boring.” Ino huffed, blowing her bangs up and letting them flop back on her face. “But anyway so I was talking to your cousin Sasori━”

“Ino, he’s way too old for you and he’s gay. And you have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not why I was talking to your cousin, Billboard Brow.” Ino flicked Sakura’s forehead. “But anywho. So I went to visit your cousin at that parlor he’s working at now ‘cause I wanna get those piercings you wanted for your birthday━no arguments. They’re on me. We’re going after school.”

“That’s awfully generous of you.” Sakura pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her. “Is Sasori giving you a discount?”

Ino scoffed. “I wish! That miser,” she grumbled. Ino shook her hair out and then smiled slyly at her. “But that’s not even the best part.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. Ino was really milking the big surprise. She was too impatient for this and the homeroom teacher would show up soon.

“Remember that mega hottie from the public school at the student showcase down at The Factory Art Center?”

Sakura groaned, dropping her head onto her planner. How could she forget? She was just lucky that he hadn’t seen her run straight into a wall because she had been so distracted. The only good thing that came about that was that Ino met her boyfriend Sai that day. And that the boy hadn’t noticed her accident.

It had been a student showcase for the senior students in the schools in the city and Sakura and Ino attended for extra credit. Sakura had been mindlessly looking at all of the pieces until a tall boy wearing all black with messy hair had caught her eye. She had barely heard Ino call out “Dibs!” before she ran into one of the pillars because she wasn’t paying attention to where she was walking.

Ino had given up chase and did her best friend duties by checking up on Sakura. Luckily for her, a different dark haired boy had seen the whole thing and had come over to help out and Ino got her older boyfriend anyway.

“That was almost a whole year ago. Why must you remind me that I embarrassed myself in front of like, seven different senior classes.”

“Mega hottie works at the parlor your cousin does. He’s an apprentice-slash-shop slave.”

That, Sakura hadn’t expected. She had seen his work and expected him to go off to art school and then maybe come back to The Factory Art Center to be a resident artist or for him to even switch tracks and work at Glass & Iron━he did have some lampwork and some welding work as part of his showcase.

“So what?” Sakura swallowed. The grin on Ino’s face was foreboding.

“So,” Ino reached over and played with the ends of Sakura’s long pink hair, “someone is going to take her cute butt down there and finally meet him.”

.

.

“Sakura.”

Sakura blinked at the hand that waved in front of her face. Sasuke looked down at her with concern. She looked just about ready to pass out in her noodles.

“Are you okay? You should probably get to bed.” He would just have to clean up everything on his own. And if she tried to go to work on her day off, he’d call the tiny red terror━Karin or Sakura’s cousin, Sasori━to force her to rest for once.

Sakura rubbed her eye with the back of her little fist and murmured, “I should. Thank you for the food.”

She was so small and tired, Sasuke just wanted to scoop her up and bundle her up in her blankets. But then he remembered that she would be going to her own room and he would be going to his and there were four years between now and when he was hers.

Did she still curl herself inward like a cat when she slept? Bury herself under three blankets that weighed almost as much she did?

He could help her to her room and find out. She was dead on her feet and would probably need him to keep from stumbling and running into a wall. It would be so easy to just curl his arm around her waist, pull her closer to his sturdier frame.

It would be easy, oh so easy. And that’s why Sasuke left her to her own devices.

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | one

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

*a/n*: hiiiiii! so here we go. i don’t have much to say except that you’ll probably notice this chapter is a bit shorter than they usually are for my fics. with this story, chapters may or may not be shorter in length. this is just easier on me, and helps me to keep a regular posting schedule. now, i’m not going to say i won’t post longer chapters, but i just wanted to get it out there. i have a tentative posting schedule in mind, which i’ll make a post about later, but i’d say you can probably expect a new chapter every two weeks. 

also, just want to say- i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy right now. stay home, wash your hands, avoid contact with your face, and if you have to order food tip your delivery drivers a lil extra! and to those that don’t get to stay home and still have to work, i’m right there with you. we’ll get through this and all we can do is take it day by day ❤️

✩ index here ✩

make sure you read the prologue first! 

Today had started just like any other day. Mark got up and went about his morning, brushing his teeth, eating his breakfast, and taking his usual ten minutes to sketch the ideas in his brain before heading off to work. 

It’d been slow, but Mark wasn’t worried. There were enough appointments on Saturday and Sunday to make up for a slow Friday. The temperature had reached an uncomfortable high, so he’d dressed himself in a black muscle tee to offer some relief from the sticky air. 

The early afternoon went smoothly. Mark took the opportunity to work on some new designs and do some organizing in his tattoo room, while the other guys opted to sit around showing each other funny videos on their phones. 

By the time lunch rolled around, he decided to sit outside with his iced coffee, scrolling through social media on his phone while relaxing in the shade of the awning. He glanced up mindlessly, his eyes drawn to a figure standing across the street. 

A girl holding an ice cream cone. Mark’s breath caught in his throat because, no, it wouldn’t be you. You’d be back home, attending some tiny college where your parents could keep a watchful eye on your every move, not here in the great big city. 

Then the girl dropped her ice cream cone, her whine audible even from where Mark sat. He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. He shook his head, just as there was a knock behind him on the glass of the door. 

Dahyun popped her head out. “Youngjae needs help grabbing some boxes from the back, can you help? Jackson and Yugyeom are being assholes.” 

Mark nodded, one last glance across the street before he stood up, heading back inside.

-----

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as Mark pressed the tip of his tattoo gun to your skin. Just the constant buzzing of the tool was enough to set your nerves on edge. 

Once you felt it, though, it wasn’t so bad. It hurt, but you’d been through worse. It was comparable to a thousand tiny kittens scratching you with their claws, over and over again. 

“You doing alright?” Mark asked, once one long minute had passed. 

You nodded, your arms squeezing the back of the chair you were straddling. It was an uncomfortable position, but it was the only way Mark would be able to access the back of your shoulder. You’d also had to strip down to just your bra, so at least you were given some modesty. 

“Yeah. Just... how long will it take?” 

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed how hard he was concentrating. His tongue was stuck between his lips, peeking out the corner. He was entirely focused on the art that he was tracing onto your skin. 

“Not long. The shading is what will take the longest, but it’s small, so I should have you out of here within the hour.” 

You exhaled slowly and pressed your forehead into the cushioned back of the chair as he went over the same area a few times. Though he muttered a ‘sorry’, you found yourself wincing from the pain. 

Yerin had left to get ready for work, as the stenciling and position process had gone on longer than either of you had thought. You’d made Mark move the stencil several times until you liked the positioning. Admittedly, it had been a stalling tactic to delay the inevitable pain that was coming. 

“How’s Taehyung?” Mark asked, just as he took a break from tracing onto your skin. You opened your eyes to see him reaching for a cloth to wipe across your skin. 

The question caught you off guard. Just the name of your brother was enough to rub salt into the wound you’d been holding closed for the last two months. You gulped, turning your face to press your other cheek into the chair, hiding your expression. 

“He’s good. He’s been in Japan for two years now, I think. He’s happy there.” 

You barely even noticed Mark returning to your tattoo, the pain less noticeable while your mind was occupied. 

“That’s good. I saw on Facebook he has a girlfriend now?” 

You nodded. “Mhm. Her name’s Jennie--she seems nice.” 

Mark didn’t need to know that you hadn’t spoken to your brother since the week before you moved to Seoul. He didn’t need to know you’d been avoiding his calls, texts, and e-mails. Most of them you deleted without even opening. 

From what you knew, Taehyung and Mark had simply drifted once they both moved out of your tiny town and started creating a life for themselves. Taehyung spent his years after college roaming the world, taking photos and putting on exhibits until he secured a steady photography job for a Japanese magazine. 

Mark moved before that, though you hadn’t known he’d moved to the city until today. You hadn’t ever been close to him besides the casual greeting when he’d be downstairs playing video games with Taehyung while you were doing homework. 

When you were younger, you’d had an innocent crush on him, only because he was one of the few boys that paid you any attention. You’d only ever had a handful of conversations, but he was always polite and even helped you with your math homework once or twice. It really hadn’t taken much to impress you back then.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” Mark asked. 

You were grateful for the slight change in subject. It was only a matter of time before he started asking about your parents, and you wouldn’t have been able to pretend any longer. 

“A couple of months. I just… wanted a change,” you told him honestly. 

Maybe you’d gotten more than you’d bargained for… but regardless, you were grateful for your newfound independence. 

“I get it,” Mark replied. “Alright, outline is done. Now we’ll just have to shade. I’ll give you a few minutes, okay?” 

You lifted your face from the back of the chair and sat up straight. “Can I see it?” you asked. 

It took a moment for you to realize Mark’s ears were turning red because without the shield of the chair, your entire bra-clad chest was now on display for him. It didn’t help that you’d chosen a pink, lacy bra just because it was the first one you’d grabbed out of your laundry bag. 

Quickly, you leaned forward again to cover yourself with the chair, biting forcefully onto your lip. You could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you said.

Mark cleared his throat and turned around, reaching for a handheld mirror on the table behind him. “It’s okay… I’ve definitely seen worse. Not that it was bad, or, well-” 

It was obvious he’d put his foot in his mouth. You found yourself giggling, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Mark looked as if he was desperate for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back around. “Here,” he said chuckling softly as he held up the mirror behind you so that you could see the work he’d already done. 

You managed to stifle your giggles as you turned your head. It was no wonder Mark was known for pieces like this--his lines were crisp and clear, flowing in such a way that it looked as if your skin was born with this intricate design. You couldn’t wait to see how it looked when it was complete.

“Good?” he asked.

“I love it,” you said, smiling wide. “Makes the pain worth it.” 

Mark looked pleased with your answer. He set the mirror down and got up, switching out the ink on his pen for the color he was going to use for the petals, a soft cool toned purple. 

You resumed your position against the chair after a few more minutes, fists clenched as you prepared for the pain. 

-----

It turned out not to be so bad. Mark kept you distracted, asking you questions about your experience in the city so far. When he sensed you avoiding the topic of home or your parents, he didn’t push. 

Once he got your tattoo bandaged up, you sat around talking for another half an hour while he showed you photos of his drawings, as per your request. You’d never known that he was so talented. 

“I guess I should be going,” you said after a lull in conversation. If you wanted to get back to your room before your roommate began their daily music blasting and loud video game routine, you’d need to head back. 

“Where are you staying?” he asked, pulling off his gloves and washing his hands in the miniature sink against the wall.

“Just… this little place,” you answered. Little was an understatement. 

When you’d moved out, you’d only had a suitcase and a finite amount of cash. It hadn’t exactly been planned, so your options were limited. You stayed in the first hostel you could find, and you were disappointed to find that the wages you received from serving couldn’t provide you with anything better. 

You shared a room, currently with a Russian girl a few years older than you that seemed to only be staying in Seoul to play shooting games and blast ear-piercing rock metal. Your last roommate hadn’t been nearly as bad, but you weren’t having great luck. 

“Here, I’m just finishing up for the day. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat, then I’ll take you home.” 

Your efforts to refuse his offer were basically ignored. He gave you no choice as he led you out to the front room to pay for your tattoo, whispering something lowly to Dahyun as she wrote up your bill. 

“Mark,” you said in protest once you saw the total. You didn’t know much about tattoo pricing, but you were sure this was significantly lower than it should have been.

“What? It’s a family and friends discount.”

You sighed. As much as you wanted to refuse his help, you had to admit you could take whatever discounts you could get. Tattoos were expensive and you certainly didn’t have the budget to get one as impulsively as you had today. 

“I’ll get my stuff ready, then I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Mark asked and you nodded, watching as he walked off to his room. 

“Family and friends, huh?” Dahyun asked, eyebrows raised as she watched you sign your receipt. “You must have gotten really close back there.” 

You laughed, sliding the receipt back over the table. “It turns out, he used to be best friends with my older brother. So… family, I guess,” you said, though you never really saw him as such. No matter how many times your mother acted like he was her second son. 

“Wow, small world,” Dahyun said as she handed over a sheet of paper with a list of bullet points on it. She went over the aftercare process, recommending the creams and ointments that she preferred, and ways to help it heal faster. 

After thanking Dahyun over and over for her kindness, you gathered your things and waited outside of the front door for Mark. 

When your day began, you never would have thought you’d be having dinner with your brother’s old best friend, bringing back memories you hadn’t quite been ready to revisit. But he was so sweet to you, so easy to talk to, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no. 

You’d always admired Mark’s choice to move to Seoul straight out of school, with no plan and no connections to the city. And he only came back for holidays and special occasions. While you were hastily packing your clothes into a duffel bag, you remembered thinking briefly of him. 

“Ready?” Mark asked from behind you as he exited the shop. The sunlight hit his skin, bringing your attention to the swirling designs upon his shoulder. The way his shirt was cut allowed you a peek of his ribs—you could see loopy cursive etched on his skin but you were unable to make it out.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you replied with a smile, tearing your eyes from his bare skin. 

[alwaysablossom]

Fic: 365 Days of Knowing You

Summary: Everyone has learned to tune out Probie for the most part, because they are all used to him not shutting up. So that’s what TK is also doing, until he hears Mateo mention, “Can you imagine it’s almost a year since we all started here.”Or: The 126 celebrates their 1st anniversary and TK tries to show Carlos how much he means to him.

Notes: So two days ago, I posted my first Tarlos FF on AO3. I thought I might share it here as well. Hope you all like it. Please do let me know if you do. 

Here goes..  

TK has been mindlessly scrubbing the firetruck clean, half listening to Mateo and Marjan’s usual banter. Everyone has learned to tune out Probie for the most part, because they are all used to him not going on and on. So that’s what TK is doing, until he hears Mateo mention, “Can you imagine it’s almost a year since we all started here.”

He shouldn’t really be surprised really. He has been carrying his one-year sobriety chip for a few weeks now. But the realization that he has been with the 126 for almost a year brings another realization, that he has known Carlos just as long. And although they didn’t officially start dating till a few months later, he can still remember the first time he laid his eyes on Carlos, that rainy night of their first shift, the dancing at bar and the sexy times which followed.

“Hey TK, coming?” he hears Marjan says, breaking him out of his thought. Paul and Judd are setting the table for the lunch that Paul has been making for the previous hour. TK nods, jogging up to catch up to her. “Dreaming of Lover boy?” Marjan teases. TK huffs as his ears tinge pink, and Marjan laughs reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Once they are sitting at the table, they all start talking about how to celebrate the one year anniversary of all of the new 126 and decide to do a party the day before at the firehouse because all of them are not working the day of.

The one-year celebrations at the firehouse starts at the end of a 24-hour shift, but there is laughter, food and family. His mother, Grace, and Tommy’s family as well as Carlos join in on the celebration. His dad gives a speech, and they all have cake which is shaped like a firetruck this time.

He moves next to Carlos, wrapping his arms around Carlos’s waist. Carlos automatically wraps his arms around TK’s shoulders, pulling him in closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of TK’s forehead.

“It’s been a year huh?” Carlos asks him softly. “Yeah”, he answers softly, tilting his head, to press a kiss to Carlos’ chin. “Thanks for coming, even if you have a shift in an hour”.

“I wouldn’t have missed it, we kept missing each other this past week, I wanted to be here.” TK moves to stand in front of Carlos, wrapping his arms around his neck. Carlos adjust himself, his arms coming to rest on TK’s hips. “I have missed you” he says. “Well, I get done with my shift at 10 and nothing unexpected happens, I should be back before midnight. Then we have two days free.” TK nods, they have discussed this before. “Will you be there, tonight?” Carlos asks him, worrying his bottom lip. And before TK can answer he adds, “You need not be, I mean you have to rest, you are just finishing a 24 hour shift and- .”

“Hey, Carlos,” TK interrupts. “I will be there, I have all of your shift to rest. Maybe even bring some pancakes for a midnight snack from the diner, for a midnight snack.” He moves his hand, his fingers, caressing at the edge of Carlos’ lip, where he has been biting it. “I would love that” Carlos answers. “We could have a slow morning, I could make breakfast” “Hmm..” TK replies, his lips finding Carlos’ and although the thought of what they are going to do tonight or in the morning tomorrow make him want to deepen the kiss, he is reminded he is still at his work place, even though they are having a party, so he keeps it light.

“I know you are having brunch with your parents tomorrow, but do you think we could spend the afternoon together?” TK asks him as they part from the kiss. “I would like nothing more.” Carlos replies, going once more for a kiss when they are interrupted by Marjan.

“Lover-Boys, come on. I know you haven’t seen each other for more than a few minutes this past week, but you can suck faces later. Right now, I want photos.” She says loudly. Paul and Judd snicker in the background and Carlos hides his face in TK’s shoulder as he feels the blush rising, TK pulling him forward towards the group. “How did you know we haven’t seen each other?” He asks Marjan, but it’s Paul who answers. “Your boy never shuts up, and it’s worse when your shifts don’t line up.” TK pinks up at the comment, and Carlos feels all warm. He knows both of them rarely hide how they feel for each other, but it fills him up with some sort of undeniable comfort, when someone else points it out. “Now come on, the celebration demands pictures before you have to leave.” Carlos has known them for a year now, and knows not to protest, that he is not a part of the fire-family or he is going to get an earful from all of them. So, he joins in.

“I’ll see you tonight” Carlos tells TK as he gets ready to leave. “You bet, I love you. Stay safe.” TK tells him. Giving him a small kiss. “I love you too.” Carlos whispers back, squeezing TK’s hands before getting into his car to drive to work.

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

After leaving the firehouse, TK decides to take a nap at his own house, and prep a few things that he needs for tomorrow. The rest he will do when Carlos is with his parents. He packs a duffel for the weekend at Carlos’ although he has enough of his stuff there. He is back at Carlos’ before dark. Changing out of his jeans, he slips on a some sweats and Carlos’ APD hoodie, he relaxes on the couch, switching on some mindless TV waiting for Carlos to get back.

TK is waiting for Carlos when he gets home from his shift. Carlos had texted him when he was almost done with his work and was wrapping up. And in the meantime, TK had gone out and grabbed them the pancakes that he had promised. Once Carlos gets home, he got changed and joins TK on the couch.

“I can’t believe you have pulled me into the dark side” Carlos says, taking a bite of the pancake. “Pancakes at midnight is the best comfort food there is Carlos.” TK argues. Carlos, smiles at him, moving forwards, kissing the pout on his lips. TK tastes like the syrup and the blueberries from their mid-night snack. “I have to admit, I am enjoying them. I was a bit skeptical when you suggested it the first time.”

“My dad and I used to have pancakes at night. Sometimes after his late shift and I just couldn’t fall asleep, because that was the only time, I could spend with him. There was this diner, near his apartment in New York, we would go there and eat pancakes.” He admits softly.

Carlos’ heart breaks for TK, when he listens to him speak about times like that. He knows TK isn’t complaining, but he just wishes he could go back and hold the teenage TK in his arms all the time telling him he is not alone. Instead, he puts his plate down on the coffee table and gathers him up into his arms. “Thanks for telling me.” He murmurs to the crown of his head. “I didn’t mean to make this depressing.”

“Not depressing, okay?” he tells TK, pressing a kiss to his lips. TK hums in reply, moving his plate out of the way, to deepen the kiss. Carlos, lets out a soft laugh when they part for air, “Not in the mood for pancakes anymore?” He asks, smirking knowing where this is going. “Later,” is the only reply he gets, before TK is kissing him once again. They don’t think about the pancakes for a while.

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

TK putters around the house once Carlos leave to meet his parents. He washes the dishes from the night before and this morning from the breakfast that Carlos cooked them both. He puts in the laundry as well. They have both been busy this past week, with nigh shifts and overtimes. Once that is done, he moves on to preparing for the date he plans for Carlos.

He decides to stick with his strengths, not attempting to cook anything big, but he does make something of an evening snack for them and puts everything into the basket he finds in the kitchen, along with all the other stuff. He puts everything in the back seat of his car.

TK opens the door when he hears the Camaro pull in with a bouquet of bright orange gerberas in his hand, before Carlos can use his keys to come in. “Hey” he greats him softly. “Hey, that for me? What’s the occasion?” Carlos asks, taking the flowers into one hand, and the other wrapping around TK’s waist, titling a bit to give him a kiss. “Baby, you are always the occasion” he says, with a smirk. “Smartass” Carlos replies with a chuckle, rubbing their noses together.

“Go on a date with me?” TK asks instead. “Flowers and a date, Ty?” Carlos smiles in question. “Will you?” TK has his lower lip between his lips, brows furrowed. “Of course. I’ll go on a date.” Carlos replies and TK. “Okay then” He replies, pulling them both towards his car in the driveway.

“You meant right now?” Carlos asks, “Of course.” He replies. “You didn’t have any afternoon plans, did you?” Carlos shakes his head no but stops TK from pulling him “Then at least let me put these in water, I don’t want them to get spoilt.”

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

They drive for a little while, a bit outside the city and TK pulls up to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. “Why are we here in the middle of nowhere, Ty?” He asks, puzzled. “This is where we met, a year ago today…” TK starts slowly, “The car accident and the baby in the tree” Carlos remembers them meeting as vividly as if it happened yesterday, but he hadn’t remembered that this was the exact spot he had laid his eyes on the person who has now become the most important person in his life.

“Happy one year, ‘Los” TK whispers, bending over the console to give Carlos a lingering kiss. “I know we didn’t start dating till a few months after but meeting you that day is the best thing that happened to me in a long time.” He explains. “Happy one year Ty!” Carlos replies softly, as if speaking a bit louder will break the spell. “You are the best think that happened to me too.” He holds TK’s face in both his hand, pressing their lips together once again.

“So our date is here?” Carlos asks, although it is sentimental, it feels kind of weird to have a date at the edge of the road where they first met. “No” TK laughs. “I just wanted to bring you here, to tell you how much you mean to me, I guess. Now it kind of feels silly.” TK feels his cheeks tinge pink in embarrassment. This all seemed better in his head. “Hey, babe, not silly okay. It means a lot to me too. So, what was your plans?” he ask, gently running his fingers on TK’s neck.

Instead of answering, TK tilts his head a bit, kissing the inside of Carlos’ wrist, before taking the car out of park. They drive a bit more, before they reached the field where they spent the night of the solar flare. This time because Carlos is more aware, he catches up faster.

“The night of the Solar flare, when I decided to give us a real go.” TK says, although he knows that Carlos understands the significance of the place. “I know the sky is not all blue and green, but I thought we could have a picnic and watch the sunset?” he asks. “Yeah” Carlos breathes out.

In all his relationships, Carlos has been the one who has planned dates, made the grand gestures, he did that with TK as well. He never expected anything in return. “Come on” TK says getting out of the car and grabbing a basket and a rug from the back. He should have seen that he is a police officer, he is supposed to notice things, but he was paying attention to his gorgeous boyfriends. Carlos shakes his head, following TK out of the car.

They find a tree; below which TK spreads the rug out and puts the basket down. “Come here” he tells TK once he is sitting with his back to the trunk and looking at the horizon. TK goes willingly, settling between the V of Carlos’ legs, leaning into the chest. They are quiet for a few moments, just enjoying being with each other soaking in the calm and the quiet. Carlos occasionally tilting his head to press a kiss to TK’s head or TK pressing some kisses to Carlos’ jaw and neck, wherever he can reach, without moving too much.

After a while, when TK starts feeling a bit hungry, he shifts out from Carlos’ arms, but Carlos tightens his arms, whining a bit and nuzzles his nose into TK’s neck. “I thought we could eat something” TK tells him with a chuckle, indicating to the basket. With another kiss to the base of his head, Carlos lets him go. TK does not go far, pulling the basket closer and settling right next to Carlos, their shoulders and thighs touching this time. “Please tell me you didn’t cook?” Carlos asks teasingly. “I didn’t want to kill us both and burn your kitchen, but I made some sandwiches and I have some drinks.” TK says defensively. “So it’s a school picnic, then?” He asks, a teasing tone still in his voice. “Carlos” TK pouts. “Sorry sorry. I was just teasing” Carlos raises his arms up in surrender. They finish food TK has brought in comfortable silence.

It’s almost time for sunset, the colors in the sky are changing slightly when TK brings out a box from inside the basket. “Happy one year Carlos” he says handing it over. “What’s this?” He asks opening it, inside it is filled with scraps of paper.

“The first anniversary is the Paper Anniversary, these are our memories from last year” TK tells him softly. Indeed, inside all types of paper, which some people would have thrown out thinking they are scraps. The tab from their date at the bar, tickets stubs from their time at the drive through, post it notes that Carlos has left TK when he had to leave early, a card from the flowers he sent over among others.

“Ty…” He starts, not knowing what to say. He looks up from the box in his lap to TK’s face, beyond him the sky is a pretty shade of pinks and purples and oranges, but he can only see the pink on TK’s cheeks and his green eyes.

“Carlos, last year when I came here to Austin, it was because my dad dragged me here. My life was all grey and cold. Each day this past year, you have added color and warmth into my life. Last year all I wanted was to get through each day, but now I look forward to not just the next day but the years to come, with you, if you will have me.” TK holds both of Carlos’s hand in his. Carlos’ eyes fill with tears.

“Move in with me?” he says instead. “What?” TK asks, surprised by the question. “My life may not have been grey before you got here Tyler, but it is only in this past year that I knew there were so many colors. You changed my life. I know you stay over like most of the time, but move in with me officially, lets make memories at home?

“Yeah…” TK breaths, moving forwards, capturing Carlos’ lips in a bruising kiss. “Yes, yes, yes” he breathes out, punctuated by kisses. Carlos, returns the kisses just as enthusiastically, both of them smiling through the kisses.

Carlos has filled his life with so much joy and warmth, TK can’t wait to show him how much Carlos mean to him. And he is going to do just that, everyday until Carlos lets him.

[endlessly-searching-for-you]

Happier Times

During my Christmas break, I binge read Endless Summer. Just as I expected, I fell in love with my two favorite characters all over again. And since I probably had too many marshmallows last night (hey, it’s been 2020, we all deserve a treat, right?), I came up with this fic idea. It’s sickly sweet and fluffy and cheesy and everything in between. Also, probability? Never heard of her.

Be warned and enjoy :-)

Here’s to happier times: stay healthy and safe! May 2021 be everything 2020 wasn’t.

Book: Endless Summer

Pairing: Jake x MC

Warnings: none, just sweetness and fluff (get some toothpaste ready)

Word count: ~2600 (10 minutes reading time)

The house was haunted.

Well, it was either that, or Taylor was losing her mind.

Between the two, she would rather have a ghost.

It all started innocently, with a missing laundry basket. At first, Taylor thought she left it in the garden, but it wasn’t there. She searched the house from top to bottom, but it wasn’t there either. “It couldn’t just get up and walk away! Have you taken it?” She asked her husband, but Jake shrugged and turned away, murmuring something she’d rather not hear.

It was a long shot, anyway. Jake never did laundry, not unless he really had to. He’d rather scrub the floors or wash windows. If she had to guess, it was because you didn’t have to do it as often, but she chose not to complain. She wasn’t a big fan of the household chores, either.

Next was her favorite coffee cup.

Taylor bought a set of six identical cups when they moved in, but this one was special. A little chipped and faded from years of washing, and still her favorite. Every afternoon, she would sit in her spot by the window and have a coffee in it. It was her “me time,” as sacred as it was short.

Gritting her teeth, she opened the fridge to grab a snack, but to her surprise, the food was also gone. Well, most of it. It was easier to explain——she didn’t know what it was with men and food, but she already got used to the sight of empty shelves. She only hoped he had the decency to restock it.

“Do you need anything? I’m going to the store.” Jake peeked through the door as if reading her mind, and she gestured hopelessly at the fridge. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He shot her a dazzling smile and left before she had a chance to say anything.

“Wait! Have you seen...” She uttered finally, but the loud click of the front door told her it was too late. With a sigh, she plopped in her chair. Coffeeless. It certainly didn’t help brighten her mood.

“At least the weather is great,” she whispered to herself. That much was true. The rains finally stopped, leaving fresh, crisp air behind. The sun was already hanging low, but she could still see stray rays fighting their way through lush greenery, and the blue sky matched the color of her husband’s eyes.

She smiled at her thoughts. So many things have changed throughout the years, but the way Jake looked at her didn’t. The warmth she felt inside when she thought of him didn’t, either.

And if she had a say in the matter, it wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

Speaking of going anywhere, though—they could take a break and go to the beach. Sand would probably be still damp, and ocean waters cold, but it wouldn’t matter. They had a soft spot for the beaches from the very beginning. It was time to add another happy memory to their collection. Tomorrow, she decided, checking the weather forecast.

When she climbed to the top shelf, she wasn’t even surprised her bag and blanket were no longer among the other beach items. It was just her luck today. Cursing under her breath, she slammed the door a little too hard, summoning a cloud of ancient dust sleeping on the wardrobe.

This day just kept getting better and better.

Huffing and sneezing, Taylor reached the bathroom and stared in disbelief. The laundry basket she looked for the entire morning was back where it’s always been. Adding insult to injury, it looked like it was laughing at her anguish, mocking her with hundreds of its tiny eye-shaped holes. She ignored the insolent box and turned on her heel, trying to ignore the trembling hands.

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “Nothing’s happening. I’m just tired. I need to go to bed earlier. Or maybe have a drink. Yes, that’s a good start.” Mumbling under her breath, she went back to the kitchen and opened the cabinet. Then closed it and opened it again. And again. And again.

The more she looked inside, the more the wine bottle wasn’t there.

It was the last straw.

A sudden cry startled Jake. What on Earth happened? It didn’t sound entirely human. Without hesitation, he ran to the kitchen only to see his wife, as human as she ever was, waving an angry (and a little... dusty?) fist at the furniture. He tried to retreat silently, but she turned and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You! Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Huh?” He looked her up and down. “You mean, more than usual?” He tried to joke, but under her death glare, the words got stuck in his throat.

“I keep losing things,” Taylor sniffled. “First the laundry basket, then my favorite cup—”

He wrapped his hands around her and whispered so low she couldn’t hear him, “Good riddance.”

“—and now even the wine is gone!”

“I’m sure we’ll find it,” he tried to cheer her up. “Just maybe not right now?”

“Why not?”

“You deserve a break.” He stroked her back. “And, uh, a shower. What were you doing, anyway?”

“Don’t ask. I think the universe hates me. At least today.” 

“Well, I know exactly how to cheer you up.” Jake beamed. “I’m taking you on a date. I already asked our neighbors, they don’t mind having more kids tonight, so we’re free. You know, just you and me, like in ancient times?”

“Come on, we’re definitely not ancient!” She laughed in protest. “But you’re right, it’s been a while. Give me five minutes. Where are we going?”

“A gentleman never tells.”

***

Thirty minutes later, Taylor felt the car coming to a stop. She still had no idea where they were going—just before they left, Jake asked her to close her eyes and stop peeking, and to her own surprise, she obliged. Now that he held her hand and helped her out, she didn’t even need to open them to know. There was only one place with that smell and salty breeze.

“Just in time to watch the sunset, eh?” She turned to Jake with a smile that quickly turned into a scowl when she noticed the bag he was holding. And all the missing items sticking out of it, her favorite mug and wine bottle included. “Don’t tell me it was you.”

“I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad.”

She shook her head. “You could have told me.”

“That would spoil the surprise,” he murmured apologetically.

“But why my mug?”

“It was on the front. My bad.”

“And the laundry basket?”

“I forgot where you put this thing,” he swung the bag.

Taylor looked at her husband, trying to keep her dignity, but the laugh she kept inside finally broke free. It started small, with shaking shoulders, but before she knew it, she lost control entirely and doubled over, grabbing on to Jake for support.

“That was... something else,” she wheezed, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Sorry. Thank you. It definitely was a surprise.”

“Mm-hmm.” He grinned and nodded at the blazing sky. “What do you think?”

“Ten out of ten. Just look at the colors,” Taylor sighed in admiration, draping the blanket over their shoulders and snuggling to his side. “Also, great company. And food” —she curiously eyed a flattened sandwich before taking a small bite— “probably not poisonous. Overall, would recommend.”

Jake looked at her with his signature half-smile, and she felt the familiar warmth spreading throughout her body. She raised her hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear, then pulled him in for a kiss and nestled her head on his shoulder with a happy little sigh.

Just as she was drifting off into sleep, she heard his low voice.

“I got a letter today.”

“Oh?”

“From the court.”

“Oh.” She gasped, any remnants of drowsiness gone in an instant. A while ago—a really, really, really long while ago—they decided to try and free Jake from his charges. Their friends helped—actually, they did most of the work, from Aleister hiring lawyers to Zahra unearthing real evidence—but they never got any response. 

Not until now.

“What does it say?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to read it.” Jake admitted, smiling bleakly at the thick letter he fished out of his pocket. “I’m feeling like the Schrödinger’s cat right now. Both guilty and innocent until we open it. It’s funny how I couldn’t wait for it, and now I’m not even sure if I want to know.”

“Are-are you—” She stuttered, trailing a finger over the envelope. “Are you afraid you won’t be able to come home?”

“No,” he sighed. “It’s not that. The truth is, it’s not my home. Not anymore. My home is here. With you. No matter what they say, I am home.”

“Oh, Jake,” She wrapped her hands around his waist. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Princess.” He ran his fingers along her cheek and tipped her chin up for a kiss.

Taylor hesitantly pulled out of the embrace. “Well then, if you don’t read it, I will. Worst case scenario, everything stays as it is, right?”

She tore the envelope and unfolded the letter. Despite her apparent bravado, Jake could see her hands were trembling. She turned page after page, and when she finally raised her head, he couldn’t read her face. It was completely blank. Nothing, nil, nada.

“Well?” He blurted out. Deep inside, he felt his heart drop. It wasn’t right. His wife wasn’t good at hiding her emotions. She would smile, her starry eyes would twinkle with joy, she would never stare at him like that if the letter brought good news. His shoulders slumped, and he stared into the distance, blinking away tears. He could feel Taylor’s arms wrapped around him, her shaking shoulders and hot tears soaking through his shirt, but he dared not look.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know it was a possibility. Only now, when his luck took a turn for the better, he wasn’t seriously considering it.

He would get over it. He had mastered “getting over it.”

Just not now.

“Jake? Do you hear me?”

He looked at his wife, dumbfounded. Her whole face lit up. It didn’t make any sense, but she was beaming.

“You’re free,” she whispered. “You’re free.”

“What?!” He grabbed the papers from her hand and scanned line after line, not understanding half of the jargon. Still, the crucial sentence, written in bold, was not open to interpretations. All charges were dropped.

He was no longer a wanted man.

He wanted to shout, sing, dance, everything at once—but all he could do was stare at the letter.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “I thought—You looked so—”

“I was shocked,” Taylor smiled apologetically. “I couldn’t believe it either. I shouldn’t be surprised, I knew you didn’t do anything, but—oh, you have no idea how happy for you I am right now!”

She jumped into Jake’s arms, throwing him off balance, and they both tumbled into the sand, giggling like a pair of teenagers.

“I just... can’t... believe... it,” he muttered, stopping to place a kiss on her lips after each word. “I was sure we lost.”

“But we won.”

“Yeah.” He helper her rise to her feet. “We should head back home, then. Pack our bags. I’ll get the plane ready, so we can start tomorrow morning.”

“So much for ‘my home is wherever you are,’” she let out an exaggerated sigh followed by a giggle.

“I mean, I don’t want to go back there forever. For a few days, a week.”

“For as long as you need.”

They stared into each others’ eyes for what felt like an eternity, even if only a few seconds passed.

“Can you pack my suit?” Jake finally broke the silence. “And a nice dress, and... you know, fancy things?” He waved his hand hopelessly, and Taylor only raised her brows in response. He whispered something into her ear, and her eyes grew wide.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But I swear, Jacob Lucas McKenzie, if you keep anything, and I mean literally anything, from me ever again...!”

***

Jake fixed his tie for the millionth time. There was no point in denying it—he was nervous. And it wasn’t even his wedding.

It’s just been too long, and—

“Ah, to hell with it,” he muttered and raised his hand to knock, only the door swung open before he had a chance to do it.

“There you are!” A tall brunette in a frilly bridesmaid gown pulled him inside, clearly relieved. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, stealing a look at the bride, who unsuccessfully tried to tame a stray lock.

She’s all grown up now, he realized with surprise. He half-expected to see a scrawny redheaded teenager, always at odds with the world. That’s how he still remembered and imagined her—except it was well over a decade ago. The young woman he saw right now looked happy and self-assured, and, well, beautiful. He couldn’t not admit otherwise without taking a dig at his own looks, and he was rather proud of it.

“What took you so long?” The bride finally gave up on her hair and extended her arm without as much as looking at him.

“Er, it’s a long story. I don’t think we have time for that.”

Rebecca turned with a gasp of surprise. She expected her cousin, and not her prodigal older brother. Nobody expected him to show up at her wedding, not after he disappeared without a word all those years ago. To be honest, most people probably even forgot she had a brother, the black sheep of the family.

She didn't.

Jake could see all the conflicting emotions on her face. He was glad when she finally settled on a smile and flung her hands around his neck, hugging him really tight like she tried to make up for the lost years.

“This was for everything,” she said with a smile, pulling back. “And this” —Jake staggered back when she slapped him across the face—“is for everything else.”

“I guess I deserved it,” he agreed, massaging his jaw. “Don’t worry, that’s how we show love in our family. You may go!” He shooed away the flock of bridesmaids.

“It’s been a while, Becks.” He smiled softly at his sister, and she snorted in return.

“You tell me!”

“I’m sorry. Really sorry.” He squeezed her hand and stared into her face, not unlike his own. “I never meant for any of this to happen. But it did, and I’m sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”

“I already did. But tell me one thing. Is it safe for you to come here?” Rebecca beamed at his nod and looped her arm through his. “We have to talk. But please, not now. I don’t want them to think I changed my mind.”

“If you want to run, just give me a word. I have some experience, you know.”

“God, no.” She laughed. “No running today, I promise.”

As they walked down the aisle, he kept glancing at his sister and ignoring the guests’ gasps and murmurs. Her gaze was fixed on her fiancee, who in turn was grinning sheepishly at the altar. Funny, how he never took her for the marrying kind. But then nobody took him, either, and there he was.

Maybe you just needed the right person. At the right time.

Because he was sure you didn’t need the gossiping aunts, no matter what customs said.

“Thank you,” she said when they stopped. “I’m happy you’re back.”

Jake smiled at his sister and her fiancee.

“So am I. Good luck, you two.”

He resisted the urge to wave to the crowd and instead darted to where he noticed his own right person. And as he held her warm hand, for the first time ever, he finally felt all the puzzle pieces were in place.

He was, after all, a lucky man.

***

@choicesficwriterscreations :)