#went to a meeting and the client's kid threw up all over my shoes out of the blue??

[bellysoupset]

getting puked on is just cute in fiction 😭😭😭

[idy-ll-ique]

Carnivals.

Pairing: Andy Barber x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse.

Requested: nope

Summary: Andy and Y/N meet for the first time at a carnival... or maybe it's the second time.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This is a Defending Jacob AU where Andy has one more kid, a 5-year-old boy called Liam. enjoy!

---

Andy stared at his son with a disappointed look on his face as the tiny 5-year-old threw a tantrum. "Are you done?" he deadpanned, which caused his son to cry harder. Taking out his wallet, Andy showed it to his son, again, saying, "Look, I'm outta cash right now! We spent it all on other snacks and games! I can't buy you the lollipop, bub." His son wouldn't hear it.

Andy was out at a carnival with his 5 year old son, Liam. Who was currently wailing at the top of his lungs since Andy was not buying him the very big lollipop they were currently staring at. After everything that happened with Jacob, Andy and his ex-wife Laurie had... fallen apart.

They decided that a divorce was the only best option so here he was now, single and had full custody of Liam. Laurie had chosen Jacob. "Liam, stop crying, come on..." Andy insisted with a soft sigh, kneeling next to his kid. "Dada! I want the lolly!" Liam sobbed, curling up against his father.

"I told you already, we spent all our money. If I go to get some more, it'll be too late. Just forget the candy, Liam, we have sweets at home," he tried. "No!" Andy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Excuse me." His head snapped up at the feminine voice and his eyes met Y/E/C. The woman had a soft smile on her face, and she was holding the hand of her own daughter.

The daughter was older than Liam, maybe 10-11 years old. "Hi there," he said with a smile of his own, standing up with Liam in his arms. He had momentarily stopped crying, also staring at the lady and her daughter. Andy really thought he had seen her somewhere, but couldn't put a finger on it. Where have I seen her?

"Can I ask you something, sweetie?" the lady addressed his son. Liam nodded. "Do you want that?" She pointed to the lollipop and Liam's eyes twinkled as he nodded once again, this time with excitement. "What a coincidence! My daughter wants one too, how about I buy one for both of you?" Andy's eyes went wide.

"You really don't have to, ma'am," he refused but she shook her head, a winsome smile that had Andy's heart melting gracing her lips. "I don't have to. I want to. Please. Your son wants it really bad, doesn't he?" Andy chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "He does, been throwing a tantrum for the past 20 minutes."

Y/N immediately bought two of the big lollipops, handing one to Liam and the other to her daughter. "Camila, come on baby, introduce yourself," Y/N smiled. The daughter gave Andy and Liam a winning smile. "Hi! I'm Camila Y/L/N, nice to meet you!" Andy smiled back at her.

"Hi bub, I'm Andy Barber and this is my son, Liam." Liam wiggled in his father's arms and he put him down. "Let's go check out the merry-go-round!" Liam squealed as he took Camila's hand, leading her away from both the parents. "He's so cute!" Camila called out cheekily and Andy laughed. "Don't stray far, both of you!" Y/N shouted after them.

"Okay, ma!"

Once both kids were gone, Andy and Y/N moved to a nearby bench. "Do you remember me, Mr Barber?" she asked him all of a sudden and he froze. Shit shit shit, where have I seen her before? I knew it! "I, um, I don't seem to..." he stammered but Y/N shook her head, giving him a soft smile. "It's fine, I didn't expect you to. We met a long time ago."

"Where, may I ask?"

"Well, um, I was one of your clients, actually. You were my lawyer when I got a divorce from my ex-husband." Memories flashed in his head as he remembered her. "Y/N Y/L/N! Yes! Now I remember, it's very good to see you again!" Both of them laughed a bit. "It's been a nice few years."

"Camila has grown a lot, last time I saw her she was a baby," Andy smiled but it quickly faded as he thought of her ex-husband. He was a cruel man; abused his wife, took her for granted. Y/N was only 21 or 22 then, which made her around 30 now. Andy had seen her wounds a few times; she once had a swollen eye. "Mr Barber?" He snapped out of his thoughts.

"Right, um, sorry," he cleared his throat and looked away, running a hand through his hair again. "You went very quiet all of a sudden, all okay?" Y/N frowned. "Just thinking about that ex of yours. He hasn't reached out to you in any way, has he? Because if he has, that motherfucking asshole—" Y/N cut him off by laughing.

"He hasn't, don't worry. Camila and I are doing very well." He glanced at her. "No new boyfriend?" Y/N bit her lip shyly and shook her head. "Not really. It's a bit difficult to date when you're a divorcée and have a ten year old daughter. No one wants the package," she huffed. Andy took his time observing her. Gorgeous.

She visibly looked different. Her style had changed, her hair had grown... far from the young lady he met around a decade ago. She looked beautiful then, but ethereal now. Her smile was still the same, as were her kind eyes that made him warm inside even after all these years. Sure, back then, he treated her simply like a client, a friend maybe.

But now?

Something felt different.

When she smiled at him, a shiver ran down his spine. "So, how are Jacob and Laurie? Are they doing well?" Y/N asked him and he involuntarily tensed. Truth was, it had been a year since he last saw them. He had cut off all ties with them, starting a new life— just him and Liam. "I, uh... I don't know," he muttered truthfully.

"You don't...?" Y/N blinked at him. "Laurie and I, we... we got a divorce too, after everything that happened with Jacob." Y/N had heard of that, how the lawyer's own son got accused of murder. He ended up not guilty, but the damage had been done. "I'm so sorry, Mr Barber," she whispered apologetically and he shook his head. "Not your fault. And call me Andy, please."

She gave him another smile. "Andy." And butterflies flitted around in his stomach as his name fell from her lips. He liked the sound of that. "So, what was the deal with Liam? Were you not getting him the lolly on purpose or...?" He laughed and shook his head. "No no, I was ready to get him that, I just ran outta money. Spent it all on other snacks and the rides."

Y/N laughed along. "Kids, am I right?" Both of them fondly shook their heads and turned to where Camila and Liam were playing alone on the merry-go-round. The carnival was about to close, so not many people were left. Y/N stole a glance at Andy. When she had first met him, she had immediately taken a liking to him.

But it wasn't like she could do anything about it; he had a wife and a child— Jacob was only 6 years old then. Now, though... "Are you seeing anyone?" she blurted out and Andy turned to her, visibly surprised at the question. Mortified, Y/N turned away from as she bit her lip again. "Sorry, uhm, ignore me, I just, I—"

"No, I'm not seeing anyone," he answered and she looked at him. He had a soft smile on his face. "Dada! Dada, can we go home?!" Liam and Camila soon made their way over to them. "I'm also tired, ma," Camila yawned and plopped down on Y/N's lap. She chuckled and kissed her on the side of her head. "Let's go home."

"Dada, will I meet Camila again?" Liam pouted at his father. Andy and Y/N looked at each other, a deep blush gracing his cheeks as Y/N looked away from him with pursed lips and a small, embarrassed smile. "If Y/N wants," he answered finally. "I'd like that very much, Andy." Camila and Liam cheered. "Yay! Can she come over to our house?"

"Sure thing, bud. Come on, say goodbye now," Andy stood up with Liam in his arms. Camila hopped off Y/N's lap and held her mother's hand, waving at Liam. "Bye Y/N, by Cami," Liam murmured sleepily, already clinging to his father as he buried his face in his neck. "Bye, sweetheart," Y/N laughed, exchanging numbers with Andy.

"I'll text you later, yeah?"

"Sure thing, Andy."

---

"Cami!"

"Liam!"

Y/N and Andy grinned as the two kids ran towards each other, hugging each other tightly. "Let's go to my room!" Liam insisted and the two took off, running up the stairs. Y/N, who was still standing outside the front door, shook her head. "Fast friends, aren't they?" Andy called her in and she stepped into the house, taking off her overcoat. Andy took it from her. "Yep."

Y/N also took off her shoes and kept them near the door as she walked in. "You have a nice house," she complimented and he blushed again. He had thoroughly cleaned it out in the morning just because he knew Y/N and Camila were going to visit in the afternoon. "Thank you so much. Can I get you anything? Some water?"

"That would be amazing, thank you."

Soon, the two settled down on the couchs, a glass of water in Y/N's hand. "So, are you still at your old job?" Conversation flowed easily between them as they sat there, occasional squeals and giggles coming from Liam's room upstairs. "It's great how you're looking after Liam and managing being a DA at the same time."

Andy chuckled bashfully. "It gets lonely sometimes, you know? Liam asks for his mother sometimes. I know it's been a few years, he was a baby then, doesn't even remember her properly but that doesn't stop him. I have no idea what to say to him," he admitted. "Same case with Camila," Y/N grimaced.

"Sucks, doesn't it? Kids need both parents," Andy breathed out. "Sure does. My own parents got one when I was 16. I desperately hoped my marriage wouldn't end up like that but... well, it did." Andy frowned at her. "And don't you dare blame yourself for it. It wasn't you. You are the most perfect person ever, it was your stupid ex who didn't deserve you and treated you like shit."

Y/N smiled softly at his words. "I am the most perfect person ever, huh?" she teased and Andy realized what he had blurted out. But he didn't back down. "You are. You always have been. Kind, polite, caring, intelligent... a great mother, by the way... you are awesome. I may not have noticed it then but now I have."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart." Y/N gave him another shy smile. "I've always thought you were handsome. Also intelligent, wise... just overall amazing, ya know? But then, I meant it in the form of respect, a fleeting crush. Now, though..." Andy's gaze darkened as he watched Y/N, who looked away from him while biting her lip.

He shifted closer to her. "Now what, Y/N? How do you mean it now?" he whispered, tilting her head in his direction. Y/N shakily let out a breath and Andy smirked, catching her lips in a searing kiss. "Now I mean it in a completely different way," she whispered when they pulled away to breathe. "Glad to hear it, darling," he smirked.

"What about you, Mr Barber?"

"I like you," he blurted out, "Really, I do. Maybe you can stay for dinner tonight?" Y/N gave him a huge smile. "I'd love to stay for dinner, Andy!" He grinned at her and both of them turned to the TV. Andy leaned against the couch, Y/N snuggling into his side as he switched the TV on, settling on a Disney movie playing on one channel.

He put an arm around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest. Just as they relaxed, two people came tumbling down the stairs. "We thought we heard Coco!" Camila squealed before freezing at the position Andy and Y/N were sitting in. Y/N threw her daughter a nervous smile, which soon turned into a horrified expression as the younger Y/L/N's eyes twinkled with mischief.

"I'm sure they're about to change the channel, Li, why don't we go back upstairs?" Liam pouted at Camila, seemingly unaffected by Andy and Y/N. The two adults glanced at each other, eyes wide. "But I wanna watch Coco," Liam whined. Camila whispered something in his ear.

Liam then looked over at Andy and Y/N, a disgusted look on his face. "Ew! You two are gross!" he blurted out before running back up the stairs. "What did you tell him, little miss?" Andy huffed out a laugh. "Just that you two have been kissing," Camila smirked, "Enjoy your date!"

She went back upstairs as well. Y/N and Andy continued staring at each other before promptly bursting into a fit of giggles. "Ah, kids," Y/N wheezed, wiping away a few tears of mirth. Andy pressed a quick kiss to her temple and they settled down in front of the television again.

---

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months and months into years.

Time flew by, only strengthening Andy and Y/N's relationship.

"Y/N! Honey!" Y/N's head shot up at the sound of whimpers and her husband's shouts as she walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Andy was carrying a crying Liam into the house, a cut visible on his knee and a few scratches on his arm. Camila soon followed in with Liam's bicycle.

"He fell," Andy sighed as he placed the 11 year old boy on the couch. "Aw, honey, hang on, I'll bring the first aid kit. Andy, can you take care of the food for me?" He readily agreed and went to the kitchen, a 16 year old Camila in tow as Y/N fetched the first aid kit. "Can I tell you something?" Liam muttered as she cleaned his wound.

"Anything," she smiled at him. "You're the best mom ever. I know you're not my biological mom but... but I... I met her once and I have decided that— that I like you better. Th-Thank you for being there and marrying dad. He's the happiest he's ever been, all because of you." Y/N teared up at his words.

"Liam, oh my God," she whispered and the boy pulled her in for a hug. "I love you," he whispered and Y/N cried harder. "I love you too, I love you so much," she sniffled, smiling as Liam wiped her tears off. "Dinner is sort— Y/N? Why are you crying sweetheart?" She felt a hand on her shoulder and pulled away from Liam.

"Nothing," she sighed, giving Andy a soft smile. He blinked and looked at Liam, who was desperately trying to convince all of them that his tears were because of his wounds. "Okay," Andy drawled, "Well, dinner is ready. Why don't we all eat? You'll feel better afterwards." A pause. "We can even have ice-cream."

At the mention of ice-cream Liam sat up straight, eyes twinkling. "You promise, dad?" Andy nodded. Liam cheered and got up, waddling towards the dining table where Camila already sat, busy texting on her phone. Andy and Y/N shared a laugh as Liam flicked her on the forehead, getting a slap on the back in return.

Once both the kids were busy, Andy turned to Y/N. "Why were you crying, sweetie? You know I hate to see you cry," he murmured. Y/N sighed and rested her forehead on his chest as his arms went around her waist. "Liam told me I was the best mom ever," she breathed, "And how happy he was to have me in yours and his life."

Andy rubbed her back, a huge smile blooming on his face. "He was right. I am one lucky man, you know? To have someone as gorgeous and wonderful as you. Still can't believe you said yes when I proposed," he teased, laughing when Y/N lightly slapped his bicep.

"It didn't work out well for both of us the first time, did it?" Y/N hummed. "No, not really. But now I'm not letting this family go," Andy spoke firmly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Y/N smiled and he instinctively reached down to kiss her lips, his hands sliding down to her butt. "How about another addition to the family, Mrs Barber?"

Y/N squealed. "Andy! The kids are in the next room!" Andy grinned. "Come on—"

"Mom! Dad! Are you done canoodling?! We're hungry!"

"Oh my— we're coming, just two minutes!"

Andy laughed loudly as Y/N hurriedly stepped out of his arms, face flushed as she entered the kitchen. He then crossed his arms and stood there for a second more; life gave him a second chance and he was, for sure, not going to mess it up this time.

---

A/N: I just realized Laurie might have come off as a bit of a... bad character in this one and for that I apologize, I'm sure she's very nice in the series. Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[constancelaufeydottir]

Help me, help you

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Attempted suicide, mentions of mental illness and eating disorders, angst, fluff(?)

Summary: You seek help from the stranger who saved you the night you sought for an escape, maybe you weren’t the only one who needs saving.

A/N: This is my first ever fic here! I’ve never written anything before and I’m really anxious to put this out here, please bear with me if I make any grammatical mistakes and let me know what you think!

You probably shouldn’t be doing this. They said you’d disappoint your family and people around you would be sad. But the water, it’s tempting. A dive, and your problems would be gone.

To be honest, you don’t think you family cares at all. They’ve got bigger things to worry about, you sister’s engagement, your brother’s enrolment in college. After all, you were the unwanted kid, an accident. The only time you caught your parents’ attention was when you butchered your job interview. You had prepared thoroughly but a stomach bug ruined it all and your parents blamed you for it, saying they always knew you were a failure, a disgrace to the family.

They didn’t even ask where you were going tonight. They never cared unless you had big achievements in your life or maybe when your failure was too huge for them to ignore.

The sloshing of the water is luring you to jump into it. The deep dark waters inviting you to join the others who had succeeded before you. You moved your feet a little towards the edge of the railings, embracing the chilling midnight wind as you closed your eyes. This is the end, you thought, your foot dangling over the railings ready to plummet into the river.

You felt an arm circling your waist and pulling you backwards until your back hit the ground, a palm caging the back of your head, preventing it from hitting the hard ground.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” You heard a deep voice coming from the right side of your body, hands were on your shoulders gently shaking. You blinked a few times, the blinding lights made you wince as you closed your eyes again with your hand shielding them.

The man who saved you helped you sat up, kneeling beside you to ensure your safety. You took time to have a close look at the good Samaritan. His hair was long, stopping a little lower down his ears. Eyes was the colour of the ocean, almost enticing as the water. His chin adorned with a scruffy beard, lips curving in a small smile. If it weren’t for your bad mood right now, you would have joked that he looked like a modern version of Jesus.

“Why?” You whispered, so quietly if not for his enhance hearing, the man wouldn’t have heard you. “Why did you save me?” You cried out, hands trembling as they grasped the collar of his bomber jacket. Your teary face surprised him and your sniffles made his heart tightened.

“I- I can’t let you die!” He exclaimed. The tears in your eyes spilled out again as you collapsed into the stranger’s chest, crying your heart out. He felt the vulnerability in your voice and hugged you tighter, palms meeting behind you and patted your back to comfort you.

You didn’t know how long you sat there crying in the man’s arms. Your tears soaked the dark red Henley underneath his jacket, causing it to stick onto his firm chest but he did not utter a single word, instead opting to calm you down.

You had no idea how you got home, except for the fact that you vaguely recalled ending up in the arms of a certain stranger, the rest was a blur.

You woke up on the couch the next morning, your phone alarm blaring. The hard rectangular metal was digging the soft flesh of your butt and you groggily dig it out of your back pocket turning the alarm off.

There was a sweet smell of pancake wafted from the kitchen and you sniffed at the smell, face scrunching when you didn’t remember having someone over. The thought of someone unfamiliar inviting themselves into your house alarmed you and your hastily got up from the couch, a pillow in your hand as you inched slowly towards the kitchen. Peeking your head around the corner, you found a tall and broad figure in the space, hands fumbling around with something. You couldn’t see clearly who that was, your glasses were in your bedroom the last time your saw it.

You knew the stranger in your house could never be your brother because one, he was an asshole who gave no fucks about his sister’s life and two, your both hated each other’s guts. Your breath quickened as the intruder suddenly turned his head towards your direction. You yelped as you threw the pillow at him, or the general direction where he was standing.

Of course, you missed the target when he walked towards you. “Shit, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die.” You shut your eyes as you heard his footsteps getting closer and closer to you.

“Hey, you’re awake!” You squinted at the man, trying to make out the features of his blurry face. He looked oddly like the guy who saved you on the bridge last night. He moved closer to you when he realized you couldn’t see him clearly. Your eyes widen at the sudden close proximity, your lips were slightly parted. You could feel his breath against your face, his long lashes and that steel blue eyes.

“Y-you!” Instantly, you were conscious of your own appearance, your eyes must have been puffy from last night’s non-stop crying. There were probably still dried tears on your face. Adverting your gaze from his, you looked to the side as you slid out of the slightly awkward situation. Walking towards the counter, you pulled out a wet tissue and wiped your stiff face with it then retrieving the cold spoons you kept in the freezer.

He laughed when you put the spoons on your eyes, you sighed at the cool sensation soothing the puffiness of your eyelids. “Don’t laugh. It’s effective,” you glared at him.

“Alright, alright.” He threw his hands up. “I’m Bucky,” his hand extended outward, waiting for you to shake it. “Y/N.” He smiled, eyes crinkled as you reciprocate the gesture.

He cooked you breakfast, although it was a simple one, you were still grateful.

“Thank you for last night,” you gave him a genuine smile as he was seated across you on the dining table, stuffing his mouth with the pancakes. “It’s nice to see that someone cares.” This time you smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and he caught it.

Grabbing your hand across the table, he looked at you in the eyes with sincerity. “It’s the least I could do.” Taking a deep breath, cautiously he spoke up. “Y/N, I know it’s not my place to say this but seek for professional help if you aren’t feeling fine. Maybe just talk to someone or … go see a therapist.”

“Are you insinuating that I have depression?” You scoffed. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you snatched your hand from his grasp and crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively.

Depression? No, you couldn’t have had depression. It’s a sign of weakness, you father said. Depression is just a fancy term to describe one’s laziness, that’s what your mother told you.

“I’m not insinuating anyt-”

“Get out,” you interrupted, “get out of my house!” Enraged, you pointed towards the door while snapping at him. How dare he, a stranger suggested that there was something wrong with you.

Sighing, Bucky gave you a taut smile while nodding then placed a piece of paper on the coffee table on his way out. “Here’s my number in case you needed any help.” He paced towards the door opening it, giving you a last glance before leaving.

It’s been weeks now since you yelled at Bucky to get out of your house. You felt bad and deep down there you knew he was right, but the stigma surrounding mental illnesses was extremely terrifying to you. Not to mention what will happen if your family found out. You were a major disappointment in your household already and you definitely wouldn’t want to add a mental illness into the mix.

You were sitting in your office, typing on the keyboard furiously. Honestly you didn’t know why you were still here. This job sucks, even though the salary was high and you’d just been promoted to manager of the department. Chewing on your nails and bouncing your legs under the desk, you felt the need to just leave everything and go home.

The drive home was painful, you simply had no energy to do so but you still had to go home, your only safe place. Taking off your shoes, changing out your clothes, you lied on the bed. Your stomach grumbled, protesting at the lack of food in your system but you just couldn’t get yourself off the bed to make something for yourself. Your mind travelled back to the day you were on that bridge. You didn’t actually seek for death, all you sought for was an escape. An escape from reality, from your parents, from the constant judgements of people surrounding you.

As you closed your eyes, you wished that tomorrow never comes.

Another day, another disappointment. You were still alive, and the world seemed a wee bit duller than before. Skipping breakfast, you went to work as usual, plastering the faux smile on your face which everybody seemed to liked and expected from you. In this workplace, everybody’s gotta put on a façade and that included you but you dreaded the day where there would be a crack in your mask. Until then, you just had to work harder to reinforce it because according to your parents, nobody would want to see the real you, it was unpleasant … and ugly.

“I gotta say. Miss Y/L/N, you are spectacular. Being one of the Y/L/N, I bet it was a lot of pressure but you have done such amazing job, I think your parents would be so proud of you.” A client who was a family friend was seated across you, a wide grin on her face as her face crinkled rambling about how lucky you were being born into a family filled with successful people.

You smiled and thank her for her compliments, cutting the steak your ordered into bite-size pieces. Poking into one of the pieces with your fork, you lifted it up to your lips. Taking a deep breath, you put it into your mouth and instantly you felt like you were about to throw up. Fighting the urge to spit it out, you endured the taste of the meat as you bite at it mechanically. Looking down at your plate of steak, you no longer feel the appetite to consume any more of it.

Everyday you woke up, you wondered how long would it be until the colours faded into grey. Perhaps it was the only thing keeping you alive right now, counting the days until the beautiful hue of the sunsets no longer amazes you; the sight of puppies doesn’t excite you; the thought of having ice cream whenever you can no longer sounds appealing to you.

You should get some help, you really should. Your body was deteriorating, you could feel it. You weren’t in denial anymore; you knew there was something gravely wrong about you. Your body couldn’t afford being in denial. The loss of radiance in your face, the hair and weight loss and most importantly, you couldn’t put on a façade anymore.

Bucky rushed towards your apartment when you called, he could hear how shaky your voice was. He was extremely worried the past weeks even though he had only met you once. Maybe it was because he was in that dark place before and was able to relate or maybe he took a liking to you. He found himself constantly wondering whether you were well and how long would it take for your stubborn ass to call him.

He arrived at your place as fast as he could, probably drove past a few red lights but he couldn’t care less. He was more worried about you that the fine he would have to pay.

Bucky stormed past the hallway, straight to your unit and knocked on the door when he couldn’t open it. He received no response from you and his mind immediately went straight to the negative thoughts. His heart raced as he banged on the door, shouting your name several times.

He was about to break his way into your apartment when he saw the door opened slightly, your tired eyes meeting his concerned ones. He made his way into the space and immediately got the wind knocked out of him when you hurled yourself into his chest.

“Imsorryimsorryimsorry.” You kept chanting your apologies as you broke down in his embrace. You felt as if you were floating in the middle of the ocean succumbing into nothingness and he was the anchor, helping you to stay in one place. He was a mere stranger to you yet he witnessed every vulnerable side of you, if only your family could share the same level of concern as he did.

“Shh, shh. I’m here now,” he guided both of you to the couch with you still tightly in his arms, smoothing a palm on your back gently patting you. You hiccupped, eyes teary while you tried to calm yourself down. The tears however would not co-operate, it was like a broken faucet and no matter what you try it wouldn’t fix itself. “I’m really sorry for lashing out last time.”

He didn’t say anything, only wiped your tears with the sleeve of his sweater instead. Maybe it was the fatigue of crying too much or the absence of food in your body, you drifted into sleep in his arms while he hummed songs to you.

You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard the heavy breaths of the man. Half awake, you blindly reach out for your glasses on the night stand, vision clearer as you saw the door to your bedroom was wide opened. Getting on your feet, you moved towards the source of the noises carefully and realized it came from Bucky who was now thrashing on the couch in your living room.

He was groaning, clutching at his left arm painfully as if it was burned. A sheen of sweat could be seen on his forehead, strays of hair sticking onto the sides of his face. The front of his wife beater clung onto his chest soaked by perspiration. His groans soon turned into agonizing screams as he tossed and turned on your couch. You noticed webs of burn scars littering the expanse of his left shoulder to his arm and felt your heart tightened at the sight of it.

You hastily knelt in front of the couch, hand gripping on his shoulder and his face. “Bucky! Bucky!” His eyes shot open at your voice, flinching at the sight of you. Hands balled into fists in front of his chest, he was ready to take on any attack coming at his way. He visibly relaxed when he broke out of the haze, pushing his hair back with his hand with a bashful look on his face.

His muscles tensed when your hand reached out to his shoulder, but then slackened when you pulled him into a hug. His head fell onto your shoulder as you patted on his back like how he did for you just a few hours ago, ignoring the sweat gliding down his skin.

It must have been hours; the two of you sitting there in an embrace on your couch, not wanting to let each other go after what you both have been through. No one spoke a word and there was only silence in the large apartment of yours. The faint ray of sunlight peeked through the blinds, gleaming into your apartment reminding you to start the day.

He was the one who broke the hug, an awkward silence now surrounding the both of you. “Thank you … for helping me, even though I was supposed to be the one helping you,” his voice was raspy from the groans and moans. “It’s … uh nothing,” you shrugged, dragging your worn body to make some hot chocolate for him even though your body was screaming for you to lay in the bed, rotting your day away.

Your hands trembled as you passed him the mug. “Where’s yours?” Your head tilted at his question, not quite sure what he was asking about.

“Y/N, how long have you not eaten anything?” You turned your head away, not meeting his determined gaze. You wished he didn’t catch the glint of guilt in your eyes, but you knew he did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He clenched his jaw at your statement.

“You called me, Y/N. You called me because you need help and I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.” You gulped at his words. His eyebrows were furrowed and it triggered a fear in you; you didn’t want to disappoint him like you did to your parents.

Your lips quivered a little, eyes darting to the carpet. “I couldn’t find the energy to eat, it’s just too much work. These days it’s either eat or shower. Since I don’t have any appetite anymore, I dedicated all the energy to shower then. But I have a feeling that I might not even have the energy to drag myself to take a shower or even get up in the mornings soon. It’s just so tiring, where do people even get those energy from?”

“Well, we’ll deal with it one step at a time, okay?” Bucky tilted your chin up to make you look him in the eyes. You whispered a meek ‘ok’, suddenly tired at the lack of sleep.

He handed you the now warm hot chocolate, a stern stare on his face. “At least have some fluids in your system, please.” His gaze softened when he saw you gulping at the sight of the warm brown liquid, nose scrunched up in disgust.

He noticed your discomfort and gestured you to wait while he went to your kitchen and rummaged around the drawers only to return with a spoon.

“Baby steps, okay? Just 5 spoons of it then we’re done.” You nodded while he passed the spoon to you.

The whole morning was spent with Bucky in the living room, him giving your warm encouraging smiles whenever you managed to swallow a spoonful of the chocolate drink.

“Go get some sleep,” he gave your knee a few light taps before proceeding to pull you off the couch and guide you back to your room, then went back to the couch himself to get some shut-eye.

Sending a message to your assistant that you would have to take a few days off, you didn’t wait until you get a reply and plopped yourself on the bed, once again drifting into sleep hoping tomorrow would be better than today.

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 18 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Just need to reiterate that this man lives in my head rent free 24/7. I finished part 22 and I’m thinking that I have roughly 3 more parts to write. We’re definitely on the back half of this series now and I’m actually kind of sad because I love these two (hopefully you love them just as much). 

Warnings: angst, cursing, cockwarming, smut (this one is really filthy…fair warning), oral sex, maybe a bit of breeding kink. 

Word Count: 3,583

~~~~~~

You hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop until it went clattering to the floor. It could be worse...you tried to remind yourself. But that didn’t stop the ache in your chest or the tears that kept filling your eyes every time you thought you’d pulled yourself together. 

Sleeping in Cale’s arms Friday night was everything you needed and more. You’d gotten up Saturday morning and made breakfast together before you’d rushed off to work, a day filled with client meetings and house tours ahead of you. You’d parted with a kiss and an ‘I love you’, promises of talking later following you. 

With such a busy day, it wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that you finally had a spare minute to call your parents like you had promised Laura you would. 

“Hey mom.” You greeted, settling onto your couch, your legs tucked up underneath you. “Is dad around?” 

It took your mom a minute to fetch your dad but once they were both on the line you took a deep breath. 

“So I have some news for you.” You stated, your tone bright hoping to signal that this was all good news. “Cale and I are together.” 

Silence stretched on for an uncomfortably long time before your dad’s voice spoke up. 

“That’s great dear. I have to head out for an evening round of golf but I’m happy for you.” The sound of footsteps and the door came through the phone as your mom took it off of the speaker. 

“How long?” Your mom inquired, her voice seeming hesitant. 

“Officially almost two months...but we realized there was something here back in March. I never thought that it would ever be a possibility. But everything about it is so right. I love him mom and he loves me. We just fit together...I’ve never felt a connection with anyone else the way I do with him.” 

“Oh hunny…” Your mom mumbled, causing your back to stiffen. 

“You don’t sound happy for me.” You whispered, shocked. 

“I am happy for you...you know we love Cale...just maybe you should slow down before things get too serious.” 

“This is serious mom.” You insisted. 

“I just...I don’t want you to get hurt. Cale’s a good kid but there’s a significant age difference between the two of you. Plus he’s only there for the summer. What happens when he leaves?” Hearing your mom refer to Cale as a kid made the hair on the back of your neck bristle. 

“He’s not a kid mom. Neither of us are kids anymore. I know there’s an age gap but we’ve talked about anything and everything important related to that and it’s not an issue. We’re on the same page.” Before you could continue your mom cut you off.

“Honey...the boy is a young NHL star. He’s not ready to be thinking about settling down. You may think you’re on the same page but I don’t think you realize what you’d be giving up for him.” 

“You’re wrong.” You mumbled, your throat starting to tighten up. “I don’t know what happens when he leaves but we’ll figure it out when the time comes. Why can’t you just be happy for me?” 

“Because I know how much you’ve always cared about Cale and I just don’t want you to find out down the road that this was all a waste of time because the two of you want different things. I don’t want you to let your good judgment be clouded by lust. You’re a smart woman...don’t give up the life you’ve worked so hard to build for a summer fling.” 

Sobs wracked your body as you ended the call without another word. How could your mother say those things? It was like she didn’t know Cale at all...didn’t know you at all. She was wrong...you knew she was wrong. You and Cale were perfect for each other. This wasn’t some fantasy that would never manifest…this was real. The way Cale looked at you was real. His ‘I love you’s’ were real. And distance or time...that wouldn’t change anything. 

You sobbed on your couch for almost an hour before finally pulling yourself together. Your mother’s support or lack thereof was not going to define your relationship or your life. Determined not to let this consume you, you threw yourself into all of the cleaning that you had been putting off. There was laundry to be done, dishes to be washed, floors to be swept, mopped, vacuumed. 

And then when you finished all of those tasks, it was time to make yourself something to eat, before cleaning up those dishes as well. Of course, all of these tasks took twice as long when tears kept constantly springing up forcing you to put yourself together all over again. 

After dinner you pulled the final load of laundry out to fold. As your fingers wrapped around the fabric of Cale’s stolen t-shirt you sunk to the floor of your laundry room. How could she think that you wouldn’t receive in return ten times the worth of anything you had to give up to be with Cale? Gary had joked the other night that you were out of Cale’s league but it was absolutely 100% the other way around. 

Carrying the t-shirt back to your bedroom, you stripped out of your clothes, letting the soft fabric of the shirt wrap around you instead. Deciding it was late enough to go to bed, you locked up the house before crawling under the sheets, a scent that was so distinctly Cale wafting from the spare pillow as you pulled it against your chest. 

Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, you watched as the clock eventually reached 1:30am. Reaching blindly for your phone which you hadn’t bothered to look at all day, you first acknowledged that there wasn’t a single message from your mother after the abrupt end to your call. There were however multiple messages from Cale. 

Hey sweetheart, just checking in to see how your day is going. (Received 2:02pm)

Tell dad it’s unfair for him to kick my ass on the golf course every single time. (Received 5:27pm)

Haven’t heard from you today. You’re probably just enjoying your day off, you deserve it. (Received 8:16pm)

Something is wrong, I can feel it. I’m here if you want to talk and you know all you have to do is ask and I’ll come right over. I love you. If you want to handle it by yourself that’s okay too, just know you don’t have to.  (Received 10:42pm)

It wasn’t unlike Cale to send multiple messages through the day, just to let you know he was thinking about you. Normally they just made you smile, but this time they caused another fresh set of tears to form in your eyes, wetting your pillow. 

Without even fully realizing it, you were pressing on his contact information and then the phone was ringing. The second ring had barely started when you heard Cale’s voice come through the line. He must have heard you crying because suddenly you heard the rustle of fabric. 

“Give me fifteen. I’ll be there.” His sleepy voice insisted and then the call dropped. 

True to his word, almost fifteen minutes later on the nose you heard a key clicking in the lock of the front door. The sound of the door opening, closing, and being locked again followed before footsteps padded across the hardwood floors. When the bed finally dipped behind you, Cale’s warm body pressing firmly against your back, you let out a shaky breath in relief. 

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered as Cale’s fingers flexed gently around your hip. 

“Wanna talk about what’s wrong?” Cale prodded lightly, his warm breath fanning against the back of your neck as he spoke. And though you knew you should talk about it, you didn’t really know what there was to say. It sucked beyond belief that your mother wasn’t supportive but that only changed your relationship with her, not your relationship with Cale. 

This was good, you knew this was good. Cale coming over in the middle of the night because you needed him was just further proof. 

“No...I just...need you.” You rambled. 

“I’m right here sweet girl.” Cale affirmed. Though you could feel the heat of his body along your back, his hand draping over your middle, it wasn’t enough and you couldn’t explain it. 

“Closer.” You whispered. Within just a moment, Cale had turned you around, tugged you even closer, and tangled your legs together. Being pressed chest to chest was a little bit better, but it still wasn’t close enough to patch the holes of worry, doubt, and anger your mother had created. It would have to be good enough though, and you buried yourself into his body as much as you possibly could. 

“Y/N…” Cale breathed a few minutes later, his thumb lifting your chin so that he could kiss you. “You’re still shaking sweetheart. Please...what can I do?” He begged softly. “How can I quiet whatever voices in your head are making you feel this way?” 

“I don’t know.” You mumbled. “This...this will just have to be enough. This is already so much.” Still, your heart was pounding and echoes of your mother’s voice still lingered in your head. 

“Do you still want me closer?” Cale questioned, his hands sliding up along your side under the t-shirt. A weak nod was all it took for Cale to slide you out of your clothes, his own quickly following, forming a pile on the floor as he pulled you back against him. 

The skin to skin contact was better, you felt some of the weight come off of your chest. And though it might not be the most restful sleep, for the first time tonight you felt like you might actually be able to drift off. 

“How could she call this lust...a summer fling…” Your words were practically unintelligible as you mumbled into Cale’s bare chest, but apparently they were enough for him to piece things together because you heard him curse softly. His fingers slid up to cup the back of your head, tilting your face up to his. At the same time, his other hand brushed away the tears from your cheeks, his eyes full of despair and frustration as he looked at you. 

He seemed to acknowledge that this wasn’t something he could fix, that he needed to fix, but you could see how much he hated it all the same. Despite the late hour, the wheels in his head were spinning, searching for something that he could do to take away the pain you were feeling. 

“Can we try something?” He asked quietly. Shrugging, you nodded, no idea what he had in mind. He shifted you back from his body just an inch as his hand dropped from your cheek to slip between your legs. “Just relax my sweet girl...I know you trust me. This isn’t sex...not really.” He explained, urging your body to give in just a little. Despite not being in the mood, your body grew pliant under his fingers. 

“Cale…” You whimpered, confusion making your anxiety increase slightly. 

“Shh love…” He soothed. “You’ve heard of cockwarming haven’t you? I’m just gonna rest inside you, give you the closeness you need.” 

“Oh.” You gasped, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You okay with that?” He inquired, his fingers moving from your core to shift your body in line with his. “Just want to give you what you need.” 

“Please.” You agreed, your fingers flexing against his bicep. Cale was still soft as he slid inside you, the rest of his body shifting to wrap around you now that you were joined together. This was absolutely as close as you could get to him and it was everything you didn’t know you needed. 

“Good? Bad? In between?” Cale asked, his lips pressing against your forehead lightly. 

“Good...so good.” You breathed, your body relaxing against him. “Thank you.” 

Little by little, every worry and negative emotion slipped from your mind until you finally fell asleep tucked against Cale’s chest with him resting deep inside of you. 

____

As the fog of sleep started to disappear, you groaned feeling worse than you usually did when you were hungover. Warm fingers brushing against your temple caused you to slowly blink your eyes open. The morning light revealed Cale’s bright blue eyes staring down at you and you let out a choked gasp as you felt him twitch inside of you. 

Holy shit…

Cale was inside of you. 

Every memory of last night flooded over you quickly at first before slowing down as you remembered how patient Cale had been, willing to try anything to help you sleep. Now, hours later, your bodies were locked in the same position. The only difference was where Cale had been soft inside of you last night, now he was hard, stretching and pressing against your vaginal walls. 

“Sleep okay?” Cale’s deep gravely morning voice questioned. 

“I slept...that alone is impressive.” You replied honestly. “Can’t believe you’re still inside me.” You admitted, voice awestruck. 

“Didn’t want to wake you by pulling out.” Cale explained. “But I need to now...so I can take care of this.” 

“How about you stay just a little longer…” You hinted. “Take care of your problem together. After all...your dick seems quite happy where he’s at.” A low grunt slipped from Cale’s throat in response to your words. 

“My girl wants fucked huh?” Cale stated. “I think we can make the time for that this morning.” 

The first few drags of his cock were rough, your body’s lubrication drying up overnight and the new lubrication from waking up to him inside of you this morning not having the chance to replace it until about the fourth stroke. 

Once your body adjusted though, you realized that having him inside of you all night had made you incredibly sensitive. Each piston of his hips drew a moan from your throat and your nails dug into his shoulders, clinging to him and the pleasure he provided. Spending hours joined together had apparently made Cale sensitive as well because suddenly you felt the sticky heat of his cum spurting inside of you as he came, a gasp of your name spilling from his lips. He went soft quickly, groaning as he came down from his climax. 

“That was embarrassingly fast.” Cale cursed, his lips pressing against your shoulder. 

“It’s fine Cale...I understand.” You assured him, fingers playing with his hair. This was the first time he’d cum before you and while your body was still worked up, you were okay with it after last night. 

“It’s not fine.” Cale stated adamantly. “I can’t leave my girl hanging.” 

“Cale...I swear it’s okay.” You pressed, feeling him slip out of you, his cum leaking out of your used pussy. Before you could slip out of bed to clean up, Cale’s hands were grabbing your waist, rolling you onto your back as his body sunk beneath the sheets. Feeling his lips against your thigh, you whimpered softly, hands reaching down to expose his head from the blankets. 

“Cale...your cum…” The flick of his tongue through your folds, collecting both your juices and his own semen stopped you in your tracks, your head falling back against the pillows. 

“We taste good together.” He mused, a smirk on his face as he spoke before diving back into your core like a man starved. 

“You cannot just say that.” You whined loudly, your hips jerking as he sucked your clit between his lips. “Fuck Cale…” 

Feeling more of his semen start to drip out of you made you whimper and Cale quickly read the noise for what it was, dipping lower between your thighs where he lapped it out of you slowly. What he was doing was so dirty that even with his barely-there touches you were a shaking mess in the sheets. 

“You gonna cum for me sweet girl?” Cale mumbled pulling back for air. “Gonna cum for me...give me the rest of my seed so I can fuck a fresh load into you?” One swipe of Cale’s tongue through your folds had you screaming as you fell apart, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over your body. You honestly weren’t sure whether that was one long orgasm or multiple short ones but by the time you came down, the gentle flicks of Cale’s tongue as he worked to clean you up were too much and you shoved his head away. 

“I don’t know what you like more. Me cumming inside you or me eating my cum out of you.” Cale teased, crawling up the bed over you. Kissing him was dirty as hell but you couldn’t resist, eager to find out what your mixed fluids taste like. It really wasn’t that bad and you ran your fingers down his back, resting them just above his ass. 

“As hot as that was...I’m still quite partial to you filling me up.” You breathed. “I’ll take as many loads as you can give me.” 

“Fuck.” Cale mumbled, growing hard against your stomach once more. 

“You got another one for me?” You murmured, reaching between your bodies to stroke his length gently. “Because you ate all of it out of me and now I feel empty. I need more.” 

“Yeah sweetheart...I’ll give you more.” Cale grunted, pressing back inside of you. His thrusts were quick, the need between the two of you too strong for slow sex. Neither one of you was going to last all that long this round, your vaginal walls already starting to flutter around his length. 

“God baby...your sweet pussy really wants my seed doesn’t it? Fluttering around me ready to milk every single drop possible from me.” 

“Need it.” You whine, your body aching to feel that sticky heat again. 

“Yeah sweetheart...I know you do.” Cale groaned. “Your body is so needy for it. One of these days I’m just going to keep you in bed, fucking you full over and over again, not letting a single drop slip out of you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be so full of me. Your hips tipped up to keep it all inside.” 

Cale’s words had you feeling like you were about to explode and your vaginal walls fluttered around him again as his hips stuttered. 

“You ready for it sweet girl? Ready to milk me dry?” Your nails dug crescent marks into his lower back as you clung to him, your chest heaving beneath him as your orgasm hovered just below the surface waiting for him to give you everything you needed. 

“Yeah you’re ready.” Cale hissed. “My girl is so ready. Here it comes.” Cale’s orgasm was long and hard and rope after rope of semen spilled inside of you. The feeling of it tipped you off of the cliff and you clamped down around him ensuring that he did indeed give you every drop. Where your first orgasm had been like a tsunami, this one was magma bubbling up and rolling slowly down the hill before cooling. 

You hadn’t even noticed Cale pull out, but when your eyes fluttered open he was standing at the edge of the bed just watching you. 

“You don’t even know how sexy you look all blissed out.” He grinned. “And I know you like keeping my cum inside but you should probably go use the bathroom.” He declared reaching out a hand to help you up, his semen dripping down your thighs as you walked the three feet to your bathroom. 

Having cleaned up, you found Cale sitting in his pajamas on the side of the bed. Stepping into his open arms you smiled down at him feeling his arms wrap around your waist. 

“Thank you.” You murmured, pecking his lips. “For coming over last night. For the cockwarming. For this morning.” 

“Are we good?” Cale asked, letting out a deep exhale of breath. 

“We were never not good.” You assured him. “My mother’s reservations don’t change anything. She obviously doesn’t know either of us as well as she thinks she does and I’m not going to let her unfounded concerns get in the way of something that I know is good and right.” Ruffling up his hair a little bit, you shook your head. “I love you Cale. I’ve waited a long time to find something this good. So I’m all in.” 

“You have to get to work don’t you?” Cale breathed. Glancing at the clock beside the bed you nodded. 

“Yeah I do. But not until you know that everything is okay. That I want more nights sleeping next to you. Nights sleeping with you inside me. Mornings where we bring each other pleasure over and over again. I want it all with you and I’m sure my mom will come around eventually. She’s gonna have to because I’m not letting you go.” 

“Not letting you go either.” Cale agreed. “Why don’t you go get ready for work and I’ll make breakfast.” 

“Perfect.” You grinned placing a lingering kiss to his lips. 

The other shoe may have dropped, but the floor was solid so there wasn’t even a scratch left behind. 

[jubesy]

Your matchablossom stuff is so cute! Also I love the way you write. I was hoping to see how you might handle a more angsty or dramatic situation. Maybe with 15 or 1 for matchablossom. Of course if you take it a lighter direction, I’m sure it will still be amazing.

Hello, dear anon! Thank you so much!! Sorry it took me a bit to respond~ I was taking a break from writing for a couple days. But I’m back!

I do hope you like what I did with this. It takes place after Episode 9, so it’s mostly the comfort following the hurt. I hope that’s okay! This, uh, also went a bit long. Whoops?

Matcha Blossom #15 “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Also available on Ao3.

Link to my master list of Matcha Blossom drabbles

Joe sighed and cracked his neck as he finished locking up for the night. The trash had been put out, the prep was done for the following day, and he had a very special to-go order he needed to bring upstairs.

It had been several days since Cherry had conked out on his bartop. After which, Joe had brought him upstairs, deciding it would be for the best if Cherry stayed with him. Just until he was back on his feet.

Cherry had argued with him the following morning. But eventually agreed. It wasn’t like he had any meetings or deadlines coming up, so he could afford to take the time off and heal. And Joe was more than happy to help him with anything he might need.

However...Cherry was not the best house guest. 

“Kaoru!” Joe called as he opened the door to his apartment. “Dinner!” he tried when he received no response. 

“On the couch,” Cherry finally answered. Joe shook his head and removed his shoes before walking the rest of the way inside and shutting the door behind him. 

He found Cherry exactly where he said he’d be, lounging on the couch, watching some French drama. The coffee table was still littered with boxes from the lunch Joe had brought him and the bottle of wine he’d opened earlier was on its side. Empty. Oh, if only his fancy pants clients could see him now. Sakurayashiki Kaoru: The Ultimate Slob.

“Did you finish closing?” Cherry asked, his gaze still on the television. The images on the screen reflected off of his glasses.

“Just did. Yeah,” Joe replied, pushing the empty containers out of the way to make room for Cherry’s dinner. He really needed to tidy up. “I saved the last order of the special for you,” Joe said as he began picking up the trash and bringing it to the kitchen garbage. “I had to deny one of my regulars.”

Cherry snorted and finally looked at Joe properly. “Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” Joe answered, placing his hands on the back of the couch and leaning down to kiss the top of Cherry’s head. “Ugh,” he groaned. “All right. That’s it, Stinky. You’re getting a bath tonight.” 

And Cherry, who’d already leaned forward and opened his to-go box, turned to glare up at him. “I don’t stink.” He frowned.

“You haven’t bathed in five days,” Joe returned, standing up to his full height and crossing his arms over his chest. “And those little sponge baths don’t count,” he threw in before Cherry could argue. He received a groan in response. “C’mon, Kaoru. I’ll even wash your back.” 

There was a brief pause. “Ugh, fine,” Cherry surrendered with a sigh. Then he grew serious. “But after dinner. And you have to wash my hair.” He held up his bandaged wrist. “And rewrap everything after.” 

Joe grinned. “Yessir.” 

Once Cherry finished eating, Joe cleared it away and helped him to his feet. He was hobbling around a bit better now. In fact, he’d be back to skating shape in a week or so, according to Carla’s calculations -- If he continued resting properly and icing his sprain.

“I can’t believe this,” Cherry complained as Joe escorted him down the hallway to the bathroom. “It’s been days and I still feel like I was hit by a truck.” 

Joe chuckled. “We’re not as young as we were back then,” he supplied. “We can’t bounce back like we used to.” 

“Not as young…” Cherry echoed with a glare. “I know you’re not implying that I’m old.” 

“Not old,” Joe answered. “Just aged to perfection,” he teased. “Besides, it’s not just you. I’m only three months younger.” 

“And yet you look so much older,” Cherry noted. 

“Says the man who dresses like it’s the Edo Period,” Joe scoffed as he helped Cherry over the threshold.

“This coming from the man who has a closet full of bad Dad Shirts,” Cherry shot back.

The next insult was on the tip of his tongue, when Joe thought better of it. “Let’s just get you clean,” he paused, “Stinky.” 

Joe had gotten pretty used to getting Cherry in and out of his clothes over the past few days -- despite protests from someone who could apparently ‘handle it on his own’ -- and he’d even figured out how to wrap Cherry’s wounds properly. A big step up from putting plasters on each other’s knees when they were kids.

“I’m going to fill the tub,” Joe said, leaving Cherry seated on the stool by the shower. 

“You don’t have to narrate every single thing,” Cherry replied, lifting his good arm to rub at the other. “It’s freezing in here.” 

“You’ll be in the bath soon enough, you big baby.” Joe shook his head and turned on the tap. Once it was warm enough, he plugged the drain and turned his attention back on Cherry. “All right--” 

“Don’t announce it.” Cherry let his eyes slip closed. “Just do it.” 

Joe took a deep breath and grabbed the shower head. “Hold this.” He thrust it into Cherry’s good hand and then went about lathering up a washcloth. He was careful as he ran the cloth up and down Cherry’s back, just as he’d been over the last few days.

“You don’t have to be so cautious,” Cherry said. “It doesn’t really hurt anymore.” 

There was a nasty bruise that spread between his shoulders. Of course, his back had taken the brunt of the fall. Joe knew from experience that bruises tended to look worse as they got better. But even so…

“Yeah?” he asked, moving to soap Cherry’s arms. Then he took the showerhead and turned it on, washing the suds away. “You good to get the rest? Or do you need help?” 

“I’m perfectly capable,” Cherry answered, snatching the washcloth from Joe’s hand and lathering up his chest. Then he paused. “Thank you.” It was quiet, but Joe heard it. Still, he wouldn’t embarrass him by saying something as thoughtless as, ‘You’re welcome.’

Once Cherry was clean, Joe helped him into the bath and then turned off of the faucet. Cherry sighed, sliding down and resting his head on the tub’s rim. “And you wanted to put this off,” Joe said, watching as Cherry’s relaxed expression changed into a glare directed up at him.

“I was comfortable on the couch,” he said simply. “And now I’m comfortable here.” 

Joe hummed. “And when I try to move you to somewhere else comfortable, are you going to complain then?” 

Cherry closed his eyes again. “I’m not sure. I’ll decide later.” He shrugged.

“Well, let me know when you’ve come to a decision,” Joe said, standing back up and heading toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Cherry asked, cracking one eye open. “You promised you’d wash my hair.”

Joe swallowed. If he was honest, he was a bit concerned about that. Cherry had hurt his head. And even though Carla had informed him that a suitable amount of time had passed and it was safe to wash. Joe was still worried. 

“Wouldn’t you rather wash it yourself?” he asked.

Cherry sighed and held up his good hand, wiggling his fingers. “It’s a bit difficult, given my condition.” He said it the way Joe had been saying over the past five days. ‘Should you be doing that in your condition?’ ‘Why would you think to get up and walk around in your condition?’ And so on.

Joe wanted to eat those words. It wasn’t his fault he was the mother hen of their little group. Someone had to be. 

“All right,” he said finally. 

“I don’t know what you’re so nervous about,” Cherry said. “You’ve changed my bandages for me.” 

Joe scoffed. “I’m not nervous,” he replied, making quick work of removing the old bandage. It came away clean. That was a good sign. 

“Then why are your hands shaking?” Cherry asked. Joe stilled. Were they? And Cherry took the opportunity to move slightly in the tub, the water sloshing as he turned to face him. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “I know it’s been a few days, but my hair isn’t completely--”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Joe admitted, cutting him off. And it was true.

Cherry raised his eyebrows. “You?” He blinked. “I know I’ve called you a clumsy oaf in the past--”

“Earlier today,” Joe corrected.

“--but you’ve been more of a gentle giant lately,” he said. “Too gentle, sometimes,” he added with a smirk. “So, there’s no reason to worry.” Cherry faced away again, situating himself so he could rest his neck on the rim of the tub. He closed his eyes. “I trust you.”

Joe found the corners of his lips curving up in a fond smile. His Kaoru was something else. 

So, he reached for the showerhead and shampoo and carefully rinsed Cherry’s hair. “Wow, Kaoru,” he faked a gasp.

“What?”   

“I think you’ve got a family of raccoons living in here.” He only laughed harder when Cherry tried to splash him. In hindsight, maybe he should have changed out of his work clothes instead of just rolling up his sleeves. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” He gently ran his fingers through the damp strands. “Does it hurt anywhere?” 

Cherry shook his head. “Just a little sore and kind of itchy on the back.” 

Joe hummed again and got to work. It was a bit of a mess, but didn’t let Cherry know. And, honestly, he was glad he was doing this for him. It wouldn’t have been easy -- what with his condition and all -- And once the water ran clear again, Joe grabbed the bottle of shampoo. 

“That smells nice,” Cherry said as Joe worked it up into a lather. “That’s not the one you use.” 

“Are you saying my shampoo doesn’t smell nice?” Joe replied, rubbing soothing circles into Cherry’s scalp. 

“Yes,” he answered and Joe had a sudden urge to spray him right in the face. But Cherry’s eyes were still closed and he looked so relaxed. So peaceful. Joe couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“If you must know,” Joe said, washing off his hands and moving to rinse Cherry’s hair. “I went out and bought this for you. Since you’ve been living on my couch for a week.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” Cherry retorted. And then, a beat later, he smiled. “Who helped you pick it out?”

Joe pursed his lips, the urge to change the angle of the showerhead’s spray rising before he tamped it back down. “The lady who runs the store,” he said. “I told her my girlfriend moved in and that she has very fine, temperamental hair.” He snickered.

Cherry finally opened his eyes again, shooting Joe a glare. “My hair is not temperamental.” 

Joe snorted. “That’s your only objection?” He shook his head. “Okay, all done.” 

“You’re not going to condition it?” Cherry asked, craning his neck. 

“No?” Joe replied. He picked up the bottle again. “It says it’s two-in-one.” 

Cherry groaned and slid further down into the water. 

“What?” Joe furrowed his brow. 

“Nothing,” Cherry answered. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to soak for a while.” 

Joe regarded him for a moment before standing up. “All right. I’m gonna get changed.” He paused in the doorway. “Don’t fall asleep in there.”

“No promises.”  

“Kaoru!” He ran a hand down his face and hurried to his bedroom. If he got dressed quickly enough, he could stop his idiot childhood friend from accidentally drowning himself.

Request a drabble here!

[moldisgoodforyou]

you’re my home

“why do i feel like jj would just love all the domestic aspects about being with charlie. like brushing their teeth together at night or watching her fold her clothes into the space he made in his dresser for her or watching her dance around the kitchen making coffee in the morning. like i feel like he would love the sense of home&simplicity he gets from those moments with her that he never got before from anywhere or anyone else”

inspiration from this ask ^ thank you :) this is just a set of little blurbs about what jj and charlie would be like living together! 

wordcount: 2k

____

JJ wasn’t used to living with someone in such an intimate way. Sure, he had shared a dorm room with five other guys his freshman year, a sleeping dorm with way too many guys sophomore and junior year, and had the perk of a single bedroom in the frat house his senior year - but it wasn’t quite living alone. Living with John B in the summers wasn’t exactly the grown-up life he had envisioned as a kid, then after graduation, he moved into a pseudo-frat house with seven guys. The house was a constant mess and just plain chaotic, but it felt right - he didn’t think he was quite old enough to retire from the college lifestyle. 

Once he got his job out in California, he moved in with Charlie and was quickly thrown into a world of home decor (apparently a hobby of hers he had never noticed). Lucky for her, he liked being handy and was able to help build a couple shelves and such and save a little money. 

At first, they danced around each other a little. They made the abrupt switch from not seeing each other for months to living together in a matter of days, and it was an awkward exchange of being open about finances and squeezing past each other in the tiny bathroom to brush their teeth. But soon they found a groove, and JJ grew to love the pattern. 

Though he would never, ever admit it, JJ was a romantic at heart. He insisted on music during dinner (“it sets the right ambience, Charlie”) and it always depended on his mood, carefully curated for the day.  

After fumbling their way through a dinner recipe together, neither of them being skilled in the kitchen, Charlie insisted on starting on the dishes right away. “I don’t get why we have to do this instantly.” JJ complained, bumping his hip against hers. Charlie shook her head, handing him a dishtowel. “We’re trying to start a routine here. My parents always did it this way and it worked, so.” 

“At my house we just used paper plates and threw them away. Or piled up the dishes for a few weeks and then finally scraped off the food.” JJ reasoned. Charlie just shot him a skeptical look, turning on the faucet. “JJ, I say this in the nicest way possible, but maybe we shouldn’t model our lifestyle after your childhood.” He laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” 

After a few dishes, he grew bored and swatted her butt with the towel, making her yelp. “Can we finish?” She asked, giving him an exasperated smile. JJ reached over and shut off the faucet, taking her hands as Love You For A Long Time by Maggie Rogers drifted through his phone speaker. “No, c’mere. We have a dishwasher for a reason.” 

He pulled her away from the sink, roping her into a waltz with a goofy grin. “J.” Charlie protested, but let him lead her into a twirl. “Hush, pretty girl, I’m busy dancing.” He replied, pulling her close. Charlie didn’t hesitate to rest her head on his chest, swaying in a steady circle with him. This became a regular occurrence - she always objected at first, trying to finish cleaning a few more things, but then gave in to his embrace. 

_

JJ also learned there was nothing better than coming home to his person. Their work schedules varied, but most days Charlie was home first if she wasn’t working an athletics event. If he had a bad day, she could usually tell just by the way his texts were short and to the point. One time, after a botched client meeting, he came home and dropped his bag by the door, not bothering to say anything to her as she sat on the couch. 

“Hi to you too.” Charlie teased, following him into the kitchen. “Hey.” He acknowledged, grabbing a bag of chips from the pantry and pouring some onto a plate. “Long day?” She murmured, wrapping her arms around him from behind. He softened, turning so he could rest his chin on the top of her head, replicating the embrace. It was the sort of hug you could melt into, knowing you were safe in someone’s arms. “Love you.” He murmured, closing his eyes. She hugged him for a beat longer, then lifted her head to catch his lips. “Love you too, J.” 

_

JJ grew into the habit of waking up before Charlie, partly because he was incapable of sleeping in on the west coast and partly because she was so damn cute when she slept. He learned to cook the basics for her, and always made sure she had a cup of coffee and some toast with scrambled eggs at the very least. (Pancakes were reserved for special occasions.) The first time he did it, he woke up her with barely enough time to get ready and eat. She was caught off guard and tried to show her appreciation, but had to do her makeup in the car that day. After, he learned to wake her up enough in advance. 

The one time he overslept, he felt a weight on his conscience when he woke up to see Charlie already gone. She had to be at work early, but he had the day off, and they had stayed up til 3am last night after mutual agreements of ‘just one more episode.’ He woke up at 10am to a couple texts from her - snoozing in? and not gonna lie I’m hungry lol and immediately felt guilty. 

He dragged himself out of bed, tugged on clothes and shoes, and drove down to their favorite coffee shop by their apartment, then straight to the UC Berkeley campus. JJ parked out front of her office and texted her, leaning up against the car. Charlie came out five minutes later, confused. “What are you doing here, isn’t it your day off?” 

JJ held up a coffee and to-go bag with her favorite bagel flavor (that he had to practically beg the baker to make, since they were out). “You said you were hungry.” Charlie grinned, greeting him with a kiss. “You didn’t have to do this, hon, thank you.” He shrugged but filled with pride, knowing he was able to take care of his girl. 

_ 

One day in December, Charlie came home in a bad mood. She let the front door slam shut behind her and barely acknowledged JJ in the kitchen before storming off to the bedroom, flopping down onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. Frowning, JJ stopped his cooking and followed her in moments later. “What’s wrong, did I do something?” 

“No, you���re perfect.” She mumbled into the pillows. He paused before hesitantly reaching out to rub her back, unsure if she was being sarcastic. “Talk to me, pretty girl.” He was surprised to see a few tears welling up in her eyes as she lifted her head and curled into his side, resting an arm across his waist. “We got the bowl schedules today. I’ll be gone for two and a half whole weeks, including Christmas.” 

“Oh.” He murmured before falling silent. With Charlie’s job as an athletic trainer with the football team at UC Berkeley, they had known she’d have to travel for post-season, but he never considered her having to be gone for so long. “Well, I’ll just buy a ticket, and I’ll come visit you on Christmas.” 

She sniffled pathetically. “No, you have your tradition with the Pogues. You haven’t seen them in so long. And I’ll be so busy with work, I’ll hardly see you anyways.” Charlie sighed, a small pout on her lips. “My mom is gonna kill me.” 

JJ frowned and pressed a kiss to her forehead before running a thumb over her lips. “How about...I go back to the Outer Banks, but I go to your place for Christmas dinner? I’ll check in on your family and everything. And then when you’re back, we can go home again or we can have Christmas with just us. Your choice.” 

She lifted her head, biting her lower lip now to try not to cry more than she already had that day. “Really? You’d do that for me?” He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her sweetly. “Of course. I know it’s important to you.” That was enough to break the seal and a few stray tears fell down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of his neck again. “God, I love you.” He laughed softly and continued to rub her back soothingly. “Love you too, sweetheart.” 

_ 

In the days leading up to her departure, he kept stealing extra glances at her as they went through the little motions of everyday life. Sure, they had been apart for nearly six months when they did long-distance, but now that they were back to seeing each other every day again, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle being alone. (He even picked up a habit of flossing just so he had another excuse to linger around her more as she did her makeup in the mornings.) 

Before she left, he tucked little notes in the pockets of her suitcase and backpack, strategically hidden so she wouldn’t find them all at once. Once she was gone, he found himself texting her more than usual - just to check in - until she eventually had to tell him that no, she was not dead in a ditch somewhere just because she didn’t reply to his text within ten minutes. 

At first he had fun with being alone in the apartment. He could do whatever he wanted and had some guy friends over, ordering pizza and played video games with the volume all the way up, kicking their feet up on the coffee table. But after a few days, he felt guilty that the dishes piled up in the sink and his shoes were left haphazardly by the door, so he made a point to tidy up - and proudly showed Charlie how clean the apartment was over Facetime that night. 

He hated every bit of her being gone. He hated the empty side of the bed (so he slept with her pillow), he hated how quiet the apartment was, he even hated that the bathroom counter didn’t have her usual makeup and flat iron scattered across it. JJ had never been more excited to go home to the Outer Banks - not just to see the Pogues, but to see what he considered his second family too. He watched the football game at her parent’s house and had never been more excited to see her on the sidelines, even if it was only for a split second as the camera panned across. 

When Charlie finally returned to Berkeley, JJ picked her up from the airport with a bouquet of flowers and the biggest grin on his face as she dropped her bags to jump into his arms. He hardly let her go a second without touching her, keeping his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the car and his hand on her thigh the whole ride home. He didn’t realize how much he missed her like hell until they were finally together again. 

When they walked into the apartment together, he pulled her into another warm embrace, arms wrapped tightly around her and his face tucked into her hair. “My home is back.” He murmured. 

She pulled back just enough to catch his lips in a kiss, grinning. “What do you mean? You’re in your home.” 

He shook his head, grinning back. “It’s not home when you’re not in it.” 

[goldenkookietae]

Trusfrated with Traffic | JJK

BTS One shots

Pairing: Husband!Jungkook x reader

Word count: 2,003 words

Warnings: Fluff, Subspace, Strong language

Summary:  You and Jungkook are stuck in traffic on the way home, and to pass the time, he sets up rules. You behave, and you get a kiss for every traffic light you see.

A/N: I sooooooo want to write a part 2 for this one. Should I make it a series? I just love Jungkook in a Husband AU. Also, I am beyond annoyed at those three extra words. Why couldn’t it just be 2k words?

Disclaimer: This story is an AU fanfiction that I have created using the names of the members of BTS. I do not claim any ownership over the members of BTS. The plot and the personalities of the characters are entirely my own.

Do not plagiarize my work and do not repost.

*

Moodboard

*I do not claim ownership over any of the pictures. They are credited to their original owners.

It was the end of another long week, and Jungkook was looking forward to a lazy weekend. His usual plans of partying and drinking to the point he would look at his dick and mistake it for a banana, went flying into thin air.

The number of meetings he had had to attend, given that the deadlines for two of his clients came in the same week had crossed the limits of his sanity. He would only be able to relax his shoulders that night when he had done two things, first, taken a long warm shower, and two, gotten his beauty sleep that went on way into the next afternoon. No kidding, it was twelve in the night and he still had a long way to reach home.

Home.

His wife.

His princess.

Jungkook sighed as he remembered their faces. It had been so long since he had spent time with them. The past few weeks had been so hectic, they had him spending all his weekends at office, only coming back after two in the night. He missed his wife, even though he hugged her to sleep and woke up to her kisses in the mornings.

They were hardly around each other to sit down and talk. He missed his daughter even more, where the only time he would see her was when he kissed her Goodbye and Goodnight, both of which times, his daughter was asleep.

Quickly dialing his wife's number, he put the phone on speaker. A few rings, and her tired voice greeted him from the other side.

"Kookie."

He smiled. She would always answer with the same, anytime, in the middle of a meeting or after a fight.

"My Bunny." He replied with a toothy grin, and he knew she could sense the smile on his face.

"Have you left office yet?" He asked, hoping she would tell him she was already home, playing with their little girl.

"I was planning to leave in five."

"Should I pick you up? I'm only ten minutes away from the place." Jungkook asked as he eyed the cylindrical building a little farther.

"Sure, I'll be right outside."

"See you there, love." Jungkook smiled as he cut the call and turned on light music.

Honking his way through, he reached the grey building his wife worked at, noticing her waiting at the gate, her hair fluttering in the night breeze. She noticed him soon enough and jogged over to where he had his car parked, a hint of a smile spreading on her lips.

Jungkook stared at her the entire time, as she got into the passenger seat next and turned to him.

"Hey." Y/N whispered, her cheeks tinted light pink, which Jungkook figured was because of the cold. She shivered a little, and he took in her off shoulder blouse exposing her bare skin to the cold.

"Hey." He whispered while shrugging out of his blazer and draping it around his woman's shoulder, tucking her hair behind her ear. It was something he did often, his habit of glancing at her side profile while driving was somehow an addiction. And he did not it like when her hair, no matter how much he loved it, blocked the view. And Jungkook knew that the pink intensifying on her cheeks had nothing to do with the cold outside.

His hands slid over her soft skin, caressing it with the back of his hand, another habit of his.

"Let's go." She whispered, placing her palm atop his and squeezing it.

Just as Jungkook drove back onto the main road, the clouds burst high above. What had just been a tiny drizzle ten minutes ago now turned into a full fledged downpour.

And they were stuck. Tired, sleepy, hungry, completely exhausted, in the rain, in the traffic.

"Oh god, it's going to take forever to reach home." Jungkook groaned, honking louder and continuously. It was of no use, since as far as he could see, the route was jammed with no hint of movement.

"I'll text mum and ask her to keep Sora for the night. I don't think we'd make it in time to pick her up." She muttered pulling out her phone and swiping through her contacts. Jungkook looked out the window, watching the traffic move slowly.

"Hey, mom says she can keep Sora for the weekend too. So we can have some 'quality time'. How does that sound to you?" Y/N asked hesitantly, as she knew just how much Jungkook needed Sora's giggles to start his morning.

She was surprised when he agreed. "I think that would be a good idea. It's been ages since I've had you all to myself. And we could always go get her back if we miss her." Jungkook admitted.

"Alrighty, Mister Husband." Y/N chuckled, shifting her eyes back to her phone.

"I am so hungry." Y/N whined a few minutes later, taking off her shoes and pulling up her legs onto the seat comfortably. His jacket was double her size, drowning her in cosy wool making her look smaller.

"Yeah so am I, I was in so many meetings today, I might be dreaming about numbers and graphs for an entire year." He sighed, and she chuckled.

"Aww, my poor baby, you work too hard." She leaned over and ran her hands through his hair massaging his roots, while Jungkook closed his eyes at the sensation. When she pulled back, Jungkook caught her hand, resting it on his hair once more.

"Don't stop. It feels nice."

She gave him a soft smile and continued carding her fingers through his hair. To add to the relief, the cars before him slowly moved forward, giving him hope that maybe this wouldn't be such a long night.

After about five minutes, they slowed down to a stop once more and Jungkook sighed, placing his hand on Y/N's.

"Your arms will hurt." He muttered bringing her hand down and planting a light kiss on her knuckles. He held her hand there, gradually resting it on his lap and squeezing it every so often. They stayed like that for a while, in comfortable silence, both too tired to maintain a conversation.

They stopped at a traffic light and Jungkook felt her mood change, her constant shifts to get into a comfortable position and continuous sighs. Her hands wiggled in his, until they reached down and her palm pressed over his zipper.

Jungkook jerked, his eyes opened wide and he shot up a good inch from his seat. Amused, he turned his eyes to Y/N, who gave him a sly smile. His jacket had slid down her shoulders, her soft skin now on display, making Jungkook gulp. He quickly reached over and pulled his jacket back up her shoulders, zipping it up for good measure.

"Don't do that, you'll catch a cold." He scolded, but wished nothing more than to see her skin again.

She huffed, and like a child, unzipped the jacket once more and threw the sides off her shoulders.

"Now is not the time Y/N. I'm driving. It's not safe." He chided, watching her pout and turn her head away from him.

"You're no fun." He heard her mutter adorably, in a smaller voice than her usual tone.

"Alright, let's make a deal. If you behave," he said, watching her slowly slip into sub space, "every time, we see a traffic light, I'll give you a special kiss. And when we get back home, you get an even better gift. Okay?"

"Okay."

"No, what do you say baby?" Jungkook frowned, looking at her seriously.

"Okay, daddy." She muttered, her eyes widening innocently. She slowly put down her legs and sat straight, like a nervous kid would on the first day of school. As though she wanted to prove herself, she pulled his jacket onto her shoulders and zipped it up as high as she could.

It was surprising to Jungkook that she had slipped into little space so suddenly. Having a baby seemed to have implied that there would be no age play for quite a while and maybe never too. Jungkook assumed that she had let go just for the weekend since her mother had offered to take care of Sora.

"Oh, look we're moving again." Y/N squealed and up ahead Jungkook could see the green light. Once they crossed, they stopped again, but this time Jungkook noticed that the rain was not as harsh as before.

"Daddy, kiss." Y/N mumbled, tapping her pouty lips with a finger.

"Of course, baby, you did so well." Jungkook praised, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her soft ones. When she remained unresponsive, Jungkook had to remind himself that Y/N had to be taught how to kiss in little space. Smiling, he parted their lips with a noisy smack.

"Thank you daddy." She smiled and Jungkook was once again surprised that she remembered. He was glad that he put much effort into setting the rules for her while in little space. He smiled in response and ruffled her hair playfully.

She had been beaming at him until he had messed up her hair. "Daddy, you're spoiling my hair. I don't look pretty no more." she pouted, smoothing out her hair as best as she could.

"You always look pretty baby, even with your hair standing up like this." He chuckled, lifting up a strand of her hair in a tease. Before she could whine again, he pat down her hair thoroughly and then cupped her cheeks.

"There, so pretty." He leaned down and pressed another kiss against her lips, and this time she put some pressure against his.

When he pulled back she giggled. "Daddy you broke the rules, no traffic light." she stuck her tongue out at him.

'Crap!', Jungkook thought. Breaking the rules was the last thing he should've done and now he may or may not have to deal with a disobedient Y/N later. He never liked punishing her. Looking ahead, he saw that they were approaching another traffic light and he made up his mind.

"See there, the kiss was for that one. We're still following the rules, baby." He told her, hoping to god that she would buy it.

"Oh, yes daddy, you always right." Y/N frowned and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The ride continued for another hour, and they came across four more traffic lights. Y/N constantly whined about how there was a lack of traffic lights on the way home, but thanking him none the less for each kiss. Jungkook barely managed to pull himself from their kiss right after crossing the light. His urge to break the rules and the bulge in his pants only grew bigger during the ride. All signs of his fatigue had simply vanished and he was eagerly waiting for the big gift he would give her when they got back home.

He heaved out a big sigh when he spotted the familiar outline of their building, quickly pulling into the garage and stepping out of the car with his bags. He mouthed, "One second" at Y/N before he walked to the passenger seat and pulled out her bags as well. He hurriedly reached over and opened the door for her, watching her step out carefully.

As soon as he unlocked the door to their home, he threw their bags on the sofa and turned to her.

"Do I get my big gift now, daddy?" she asked, giving him the most adorable smile.

"Yes baby, you've been such a good girl. Of course, you'll get a big gift." He cooed, cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to them urgently. When she let out a soft moan, he could no longer hold back. He swooped her up into his arms, pulling away from her lips, while climbing up the stairs.

"Let's go to our bedroom so you can unwrap your present, right baby?" He nuzzled his nose against her cheek, inhaling her fragrance.

"Yes, daddy."

Masterlist - Main | Masterlist - Imagines | Navigation

[whitewolfmoving]

Guard Your Body, Guard My Heart || Bucky Barnes au

A/N: Writing commission for @arrowsandmixtapes I had so much fun writing this for you! Thank you for commissioning me 🥰

Summary: Agent Barnes is the best in his field. When Aceline Marcure—the key witness in a murder investigation—is placed in his care, he’s tasked with keeping her safe until their primary suspect can be taken out. As time goes on, Bucky Barnes learns two things: one, never judge a book by its cover and two, he owes Steve Rogers $100.

Warnings: swearing, Bucky Barnes needs to calm down, I don’t know what I’m talking about half the time—literally just made this crock of shit up

Word Count: 3976

——————————

File Status: CLASSIFIED

Password: ***************

Access: GRANTED

Bucky leaned against the driver’s door of his SUV and pushed his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, quickly skimming over the file on his iPad screen. He’d just made it to the safe house out on Bennet road, and was waiting for the Director to arrive. This certainly wasn’t how he’d planned on spending his day off; forced to come into work at the last minute, forced to babysit someone else who couldn’t stay out of trouble. Fuck. Bucky couldn’t catch a break.

He took a long drag of the cigarette between the fingers of his right hand, and continued scrolling through the file. He noted the important details like the young woman’s name, her age, where she was from, what she did for a living, who she kept in her close inner circles; and threw out the ones he deemed unimportant like her favorite food, the name of her cat, her hobbies, where she did her grocery shopping. No sense getting to know her since this job would hopefully be short lived. Keep her safe long enough for authorities to apprehend the douche attempting to murder her, then let her go back to her old life… if she even could go back to her old life. Sometimes these things didn’t always go to plan, Bucky knew that well. He’d lost a few in his early years. But the reason Director Fury kept him on was because of his turnaround rate. No one brought down suspects with the same speed and zeal that James Barnes did. His success rate was through the roof and far outnumbered his failures. So if Nick Fury thought he was the perfect agent for this job, then he was the perfect agent for this job and no other questions needed asking.

A sleek black car pulled into the gravel driveway and parked next to Bucky’s SUV. The driver’s door opened and Steve Rogers stepped out of the car, not Director Fury.

“What are you doing here, Rogers? Where’s Fury?” Bucky asked, careful not to slip into the causal way he was used to addressing his fellow agent when they were off the clock.

Steve nodded back to the car as he stepped around the vehicle and joined Bucky at the SUV. “He got pulled into a meeting on his way out of the office, called me in to deliver.”

“Yeah? How was the ride over?”

“Quiet, she didn’t say much.”

“Good, makes my job a hell of a lot easier.”

“Listen, I think this guy’s really getting under her skin. Go easy on her, hmm?”

“Go easy on her? What kinda man do you take me for, Rogers?” Bucky laughed.

“I mean it, man. Look, I know how you can get on these jobs. Just try to be a bit more understanding than usual, alright?” Steve said. He lightly rapped on the tinted window of the car, the back right passenger door opened shortly after.

To say Bucky Barnes was floored by the sight in front of him would be putting it lightly. The young woman that stepped out of the car appeared to be so much more than what he was expecting, just from what he’d read of her file. She wasn’t nearly as fragile-looking as the report made her seem, though Bucky could tell she equally wasn’t as battle-hardened either.

Steve motioned between Bucky and the young woman, addressing them accordingly, “Barnes, this is Aceline Marcure. Miss Marcure, this is Agent James Barnes, he’ll be your bodyguard. You’ll be staying here at our safe house for the duration of the case. Unfortunately, you’re not allowed to have any outside visitors, that means no telling anyone where you are. This is just as much for their safety as it is yours. Should you need or want to leave the cabin for any reason, you are not to go alone. Agent Barnes is to be with you at all times. Take tonight to get settled, I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

“Agent Rogers, you’re not staying with us?” Aceline asked, hazel eyes shining as she looked up at the blond-haired man next to her.

“No, ma’am. My job was simply to make sure you arrived safely and were transferred to Agent Barnes’ care in one piece,” Steve said.

Aceline nodded. She extended her right hand toward Bucky, waiting for him to take it.

Bucky eyed her closely; he dismissed her outstretched hand and turned to Steve, pulling the other agent away from the car. He finished off his cigarette and tossed the butt to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of his shoe. “You gotta be kidding me here, Stevie. Someone’s out for this girl? I don’t buy it.”

“I only know what’s in her file, Buck. Same as you. The rest is on a need-to-know basis.”

“Yeah, well, Fury better have a damn good reason for bringing me in on my one day off in over a month.”

“Just try to get through tonight without tearing each other’s heads off, alright? Can you do that?”

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah, I got it. Get out of here, Rogers.”

+

After Steve had helped Bucky get their bags inside, he’d left Aceline with his cell number before heading back to the city. He knew how Bucky could get, he promised her she’d need it. They both watched silently as Steve’s car backed down the gravel driveway and took off, leaving the two of them together in complete silence. Then Bucky left Aceline alone to get settled in while he went to take a shower.

Now, he stood at the island in the kitchen with a mug of coffee and a pack of cigarettes next to it. His iPad laid in front of him with Aceline’s file open on the screen. He rolled up the sleeves of the darke blue sweatshirt he’d pulled on after his shower and got to work reading through the report more thoroughly.

Name: Aceline Marcure

Age: Unknown

Birthplace: Brooklyn, New York

Occupation: Bookstore Owner

Bucky scoffed. Great, just what he needed, another softie. Another person who wouldn’t be able to hold her own against the horrors of being in Witness Protection. How in the hell was he supposed to keep her safe if he had to worry about whether or not she could handle it all, too? He took a sip of coffee; the warmth from the mug seeped deep into the palm of his right hand, his left hand remained vaguely unbothered by the change in temperature. Ah, yes, one more thing he’d have to worry about—whether or not she could handle that small detail on top of everything else. He was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs.

Bucky quickly closed the case file on his iPad and turned off the screen, he then moved to the coffee pot on the counter behind him and poured another mug. He wasn’t happy about this, far from it, but at least there was coffee. He set the new mug on the far end of the island and waited for Aceline to join him in the kitchen. As she rounded the corner, Bucky could see the exhaustion settled deep in her bones. He could tell that this wasn’t exactly her idea of a vacation either.

He nodded to the coffee mug on the opposite end of the island, watching Aceline’s movements closely. She moved slowly across the room; her shoulders hung heavy, her eyes dimmed. She smiled gratefully at Bucky, silently thanking him for the coffee. She didn’t try to talk to him, which he was grateful for.

Aceline set her mug back down on the counter and looked up at the agent. His demeanor was less than inviting. She couldn’t help but wonder what had crawled up his ass to make him that way. She sighed, combing a hand through her long hair. “Look, I know you don’t want to be here. And I know you want me here about as much as I’d like to be here, so can we just agree to stay out of each other’s way until this thing is over?”

“Good plan,” Bucky said gruffly. His tone alerted Aceline to the fact that he didn’t think it was a good idea at all, and even if it had been, he was about to shit all over it. “Except for the gaping hole in the center of it.”

“Oh, yeah, and what might that be?” Aceline challenged.

“You seem to be forgetting that you are in Witness Security. Which means, unless it’s to sleep, shower, piss or shit, you’re not allowed so much as a foot out of my sight. Am I clear?”

“Is that supposed to make me want to listen to you? Cause it doesn’t. I get that your weekend’s been ruined or whatever, but I didn’t ask to see some dude get his head blown off and I didn’t ask to be put in Witness Security.”

“Well, that’s just tough. It is, you did, and you are. I only have two rules for the duration of this case: stay where I can see you at all times, and follow my instructions. Do that, and we won’t have any problems.”

Aceline promptly excused herself, leaving Bucky alone under a heavy silence once again. He wouldn’t admit it, but she had fire in her veins—something Bucky wasn’t used to seeing in the usual clients who entered the program. If Bucky were a gambling man, he would have already bet on how long Aceline would be able to stick it out. But he wasn’t and he hadn’t.

+

Bucky was still up by the time the moon had settled at its peak in the dark sky.

Aceline had gone to bed hours ago and he hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from her since. Their earlier conversation yielded a thick amount of tension between them, with Bucky feeling no more or less in control of the situation as he had when it began. Throughout the day, it had become increasingly clear to Bucky that Aceline was stubborn, and unbearably so.

He’d just finished logging his notes for Director Fury on how the first day had gone, and was heading upstairs to bed, when a piercing scream came from Aceline’s room. Bucky was up the stairs and around the corner in seconds, gun drawn and ready for whatever he’d come face-to-face with. But as he made it to Aceline’s room, he was met with the sounds of pained whimpers—nothing like what he’d expect if someone were attempting to harm her. Still, he knew better than to let his guard down until he cleared the room.

Aceline’s door was cracked; Bucky slowly and carefully pushed it open just enough for him to slip through unheard. He cleared the corners to the left and right of the doorway, the room was empty except for the bed where Aceline slept fitfully. He holstered his handgun and scrubbed a hand down his tired face—he hated this part, the comforting part. He wasn’t good at it, comforting other people. S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t hired him for his ability to be nurturing, they’d hired him for his deadly aim.

Bucky sighed. He approached Aceline’s bedside cautiously, aware that any sudden movements on his part could spell disaster for both of them. Bucky stilled as she shot up quickly, eyes frantically darting around the room. Her eyes landed on Bucky still a few feet away, but close enough to make out who he was in the dark, and she settled. Bucky let his shoulders relax.

Her hair was disheveled, she was frightened; Bucky was so far out of his league.

Bucky cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “You were screaming. I thought someone was in the house, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I can’t stop seeing it—what happened, over and over and over. It’s like it plays on a constant loop in my head. It won’t leave me alone.” Aceline shook her head, her voice trembled with exhaustion and Bucky wondered how long it’d been since she’d had a good night’s sleep.

“I wasn’t given the details of what happened, only told to protect you. Whatever you saw was—is important. You should go back to sleep, we have to head into the office tomorrow. Rest up.” He turned to leave without another word.

“Stay. Please?” Aceline switched on the lamp beside her bed, and warm light flooded the room. Bucky could see her properly now, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her hair was disheveled, she was trembling; Bucky was so far out of his league.

“I need to check the rest of the cabin. Rest up,” Bucky repeated. “See you in the morning.”

He exited the room and pulled the door shut behind him. The fear on Aceline’s face and the way she was staring up at him as she asked him to stay with her had been burned into his brain. For a moment there, he’d considered sitting by her bedside and watching over her until she fell asleep; but comforting someone wasn’t something Bucky Barnes could do.

He made his way back down the stairs and checked the locks once again. Taking a seat in the living room, he grabbed his phone to call Steve before heading to bed. The line rang twice and Steve picked up immediately.

“Buck, it’s late. Is Aceline okay?” The gruffness of Steve’s voice told Bucky he’d been asleep prior to the agent’s call.

“Everything’s fine here, Stevie. She had a nightmare or something, woke up screaming a little bit ago,” Bucky replied, unsure of what else to say.

“Well, is she alright? Do either of you need anything?” Steve asked, and Bucky could hear the shuffling of his blankets as he sat up in bed.

“No, we’re fine, she’s just spooked. She asked me to sit with her, but we both know that’s not something I can do.”

“Have you even tried since your last case?”

“Steve, don’t push it.”

“Have you tried getting to know her? Having a conversation with her?”

“Steve.” Bucky’s patience with his best friend was wearing thin.

“I’m just saying, it’s not any easier to be in WITSEC than it is to be the agent protecting her. You both could use some reassurance. She needs to know she can count on you to keep her safe, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. And you need to remember that it’s okay to care about someone else,” Steve said gently. “I’ll cover for you at the office tomorrow. Take her out, let her stretch her legs, see the city. And if she wants to talk, listen. I know you’re still carrying guilt for what happened last time, but that wasn’t your fault. And Aceline isn’t Charlotte.”

Bucky tensed at the mention of his last client; things hadn’t gone well, he still hadn’t recovered from her loss. He’d gotten too close, let his feelings get in the way… he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. He sighed, figuring Steve was at least right about getting Aceline out of the cabin for a little bit, what could it hurt?

He and Steve chatted for a few more minutes, then hung up. By the time he was finally ready to go back upstairs, he had a small game plan in place.

The following morning, Aceline was up with the sun. She hadn’t quite slept as soundly as she’d hoped after Bucky left her room, but knowing he was nearby had eased her worries enough to get some rest. She wasn’t sure what the day had in store for her, but she knew she needed to get out of the house. She couldn’t just leave, though, not without Bucky. In the time it took to shower and dress for the day, she’d only figured out part of a plan to sway things in her favor. She ventured down the stairs ready to put her half-baked plan into action.

The kitchen was empty when she entered. It was big, certainly bigger than her kitchen at home and would allow her to cook breakfast without hindrance. She wasn’t sure what Bucky liked to eat, but hoped he’d appreciate a warm home cooked meal to make up for their rocky start the day before. Upon further inspection, she found the kitchen and accompanying pantry fully stocked with everything she’d need to cook breakfast for her and Bucky. She set her Rainy Day Playlist on shuffle and got to work.

When Bucky finally made his way downstairs about two hours later, Aceline was pulling a tray stacked with waffles out of the oven here she’d placed them to stay warm. The dining table had been set with plates, bowls, glasses of orange juice, and silverware. Aceline walked over with the platter of waffles, and Bucky’s stomach grumbled. She turned to face him with a gentle smile.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said warmly. “I figured it’s the least I could do after yesterday.”

Bucky remained silent. He sat down at the table and waited, unsure of how to approach Aceline. He thought back to his conversation with Steve the night before; he’d been right about one thing, Aceline certainly wasn’t Charlotte.

“I know you said we have to go talk to your boss today, but I thought we could both use a bit of a break from all the madness. At least for a couple hours?” She sat down across from him and played a few waffles, then held the dish out for him to take. She looked a lot different now than she had when he’d checked on her eight hours before. It was as if the nightmare hadn’t even fazed her.

Bucky cleared his throat, he took the plate from her with a polite nod of his head. “Actually, we’ve been excused from the meeting this morning, Steve will give us the details later. Do you have everything you need? Or is there anything you’d like to go out and get? We’ll be staying here a while.”

He was trying, and Aceline appreciated that. She sat quietly for a few minutes, thinking. Was this really the same agent who’d given her a harsh set of rules and stern talking to? She thought she’d have to work a lot harder than a nice breakfast to get him to agree to let her out of the cabin for a few hours. Whatever Steve had said to him seemed to be working, and she certainly wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She took a small sip of orange juice, and nodded. “I could use a few more things. I wasn’t really given much warning, just told to pack a bag and be ready by the time Agent Rogers got to my house.”

“There’s a store in town that should have whatever you forgot to bring. Take as much time as you need, we’ll go when you’re ready.”

“Okay. Thank you, Agent Barnes.”

They finished eating in silence. When they were done, Bucky offered to clean up while Aceline went to get ready. He hadn’t expected to receive breakfast and good company when he woke up that morning. Bucky hadn’t expected his opinion of Aceline to shift so suddenly either, he went from feeling like he’d been employed as her babysitter to wondering how she wasn’t a lot more freaked out over the situation than she seemed.

He was putting the last of the dishes away when she returned. She stood at the island, staring at his back as he dried the remaining plates.

“I can finish that if you’d like to grab your things,” Aceline said quietly. She set her purse down on the counter and went to his side. He handed her the dish towel, and turned to leave the kitchen.

+

The drive into town was long, filled with awkward silences Bucky wasn’t sure how to break.

He pulled the SUV to a stop outside of a small shop about 20 miles from the cabin. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but he knew he needed to do something to make up for how he’d been treating her.

He reached into the center console and pulled out the handgun he kept there, his badge, and his cellphone. He grabbed something else from the console and held his hand out to her. “Let me see your phone.”

“My phone? What for?” She asked defiantly, but handed it over with one stern look from Bucky. She watched him fiddle with it for a couple seconds, then took it back when he was done. “What’d you do?”

He held his phone up so she could see the screen. “Tracking app, leave your phone on. If we get separated, meet me back here. After 15 minutes if you don’t show up, I’ll come find you.”

They got out of the car and went inside. The shop was small, but packed. They’d be able to blend in easily, but Bucky wasn’t willing to leave anything to chance. He wasn’t going to have another Charlotte… Bucky shook his head, cleared it of all thoughts of previous cases, and put on the first smile Aceline had seen in 24 hours.

He greeted the shop owner as they entered. “Morning, Grace.”

Grace smiled. “Morning, James. Long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know—same old, same old, Grace. How about you? How’s Walter?” Bucky leaned against the counter, slipping into a comfortable conversation with Grace.

Aceline stood back and watched the two interact. The Bucky she was seeing now, was vastly different than the one she’d met previously. He’d let his guard down, he was talking and laughing like he hadn’t a care in the world. Here, he was a normal civilian instead of an uptight secret agent. Here, Bucky had personality and manners. She noted the way his eyes lit up as he smiled; a blue so rich and dark that it was like looking at the night sky or the ocean in his eyes. This was a side of Bucky she didn’t know he possessed.

“Hey, Ace, come here a minute.” Bucky held his arm out to her, waiting. When she stepped over to his side, he pulled her against him. His hand rested protectively on her hip, she tensed up next to him. He sensed her discomfort and leaned in close. “The man who came in behind us has been eyeing you up and down for the last 10 minutes. Relax, stay calm and follow my lead.”

Aceline slightly relaxed into Bucky’s hold, and laid her head on his shoulder. Grace smiled at her from behind the counter.

“And who’s this?” Grace asked cheerily.

“Oh, right. Forgive me, ladies. Grace, this is my fiancée, Aceline Marcure. Ace, this is Grace Richards, she owns the shop,” Bucky said breezily. He gently squeezed her hip, folding her into his side. He pressed a soft kiss into Aceline’s hair and turned back to Grace. “What was it you were saying you wanted to try and find, babe?”

Aceline hummed. “Oh, I was hoping to find nice candles for the centerpieces. We discussed gold holders, if possible.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how, but in that moment Aceline seemed so much stronger than he’d previously given her credit for. She’d adapted to change in situation without hesitation or panic, she’d put her trust in Bucky as quickly as he’d had to put his faith in her. He turned to place another kiss against her temple, and smiled up at Grace. If every encounter they had in public went this smooth, Bucky was certain Aceline would make it out of this alive.

—————

A/N: I’m so glad this is finally ready! I had so much fun writing this for you, Kansas. I hope you love it as much as I do!

I decided to make this into a series, even though this initial post is for your commission--the whole series will be for your commission! I can only hope that it lives up to the hype.

Commissions are open and can be paid for via my ko-fi page.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged. Remember to like, comment, and reblog if you loved it!

Thank you for your continuous support!

-Auri <3

Till The End of All Things (main taglist):

@arrowsandmixtapes @pinknerdpanda

[amaya777]

A Dangerous Life | A Twisted Wonderland OC Oneshot

For this, I’m doing a Mafia AU version of Sander. Yes, I know that I am extremely late to the bandwagon for that, remembering that being a thing when I first created my blog before I even thought of posting my OC. But it’s just a good and fitting AU for Twisted Wonderland, so I decided to finally do it now. I am aging up Sander, Azul and such to be at least 18+ because of the nature of mafias and the type of setting.

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

Sander was sitting at a table in the posh establishment, feeling so out of place in many ways right now. He had to be the youngest person here as everyone else drinking seemed to be at least ten years older than him besides maybe the woman in the sparkly dress singing on stage. Dressed in tattered rags and short for his age despite now being an adult, he knew that normally he would have been thrown out already. But the man who he had been running small errands for this past year told him that one of his bosses wanted to meet him, to give him a bigger errand to run that could lead to future work. Sander knew that he had to take it, needing the money and thankful that with being older, he can do jobs that pay more.

Selling newspapers, polishing shoes, little things that he could do over the years barely made a dime really. While it was something and every little bit counted, it wasn’t enough for the orphanage to survive on. That’s why he was thankful that a year ago someone was offering money if he would just deliver envelopes and small bags for them. He never knew what was in them and never asked since he was told never to open them, obeying since a job is a job. It was just simple deliveries, yet they paid him so much that he just kept going with it. That much cash allowed him to really help out more and even afford to buy the other kids some actual clothes and toys too.

So he waited until a very tall man came walking over, dressed in a business suit with his hair slicked back except for the black strand hanging down the left side of his face. His eyes were different colors too, but he seemed to have a smile on his face.

“Ah, so you’re the one who has been doing those errands. Thank you, good help is always hard to find. That’s why when I found out, I wanted to offer you this job to see if you’re capable. Deliver this to our client on the other side of town, in the alley behind the gym there. Don’t open it and do not let yourself get caught, under any circumstances. You will be paid very handsomely once you’ve completed this and come back. You’ll accept it, yes?”

Sander thought about it, hearing that he can’t get caught as he thought of the location. That’s right, that part of town is extremely rough and ruled by the notorious Savanaclaw gang that even he knew of it. Their leader is a beast and they don’t take too kindly to outsiders either. He knew that this could be dangerous, but that money would be really nice and this could lead to more work for him. So Sander nodded back as Jade grinned and handed over a bulky envelope with a lavender wax seal on it.

“Wonderful. My name is Jade. Good luck, Sander.”

Sander was very surprised and confused as to how Jade knew his name, but took the envelope before leaving the place. Jade chuckled, looking back as a man wearing glasses and carrying a cane came walking up along with an identical man to Jade but his hair strand on the opposite side.

“That boy, if he is serious and clever enough, should be able to survive against those ‘beasts’. It would be a shame to lose someone that reliable.”

The two twins nodded, both in agreement with what the one spoke before all of them headed back to the office.

Meanwhile Sander was making his way through town, hiding the envelope on him as he thought of how to do this. As long as he can blend in with the crowds and stay unnoticed, it should be fine. Soon he got to the other side, otherwise known as the slums due to how poor this part of town was. Abandoned and run down buildings with those living here struggling to survive while turning to crime and violence, this is exactly where he doesn’t want the other kids to end up if he can’t support them. So he was careful to keep his head down as he walked through the streets, looking for the gym when a group of guys wearing yellow bands of cloth noticed the envelope.

“Hey, he’s with Octavinelle! After him!” the leader of them yelled as Sander heard, shocked and started running before the guys chased after him. Octavinelle? Was this why he can’t get caught? But he couldn’t think on it long, quickly ducking into an alley to try to lose those guys only to find that he reached a dead end. Crap! The fence was too tall for him to jump and if he doesn’t do something quick, they’ll catch him. He searched all over until he saw the broken window to his left and the trash bins to his right. Sander picked up a rock and threw it through the window as it made noise before rushing behind the bins, hiding perfectly still and silent. He waited, hearing those guys come running down the alley.

“He’s in here!”

One of them screamed as they all went through the window and his plan had worked. Once the coast was clear, Sander ran out of the alley quickly and made his way to the alley he needed to be in. There was a guy dressed like the locals and ready to fight, but relaxed when he saw the envelope Sander held. He mentioned Octavinelle, being the client as Sander handed it to him and the guy thanked him before leaving. Sander was so thankful that he did it, also leaving the area before those guys from before could spot him again. So he went back to that establishment and there was Jade standing there as he walked over.

“Oh, so you made it back. Congrats. I will let my boss know of you for the future. Here is your pay and surely we will meet again.”

Jade handed Sander an envelope with a smile as he took it and nodded back. Sander opened it, completely stunned by how much money there was. This is five times the amount he would get from a normal errand!

“T-Thank you so much!”

Sander bowed his head, so grateful and happy as he left the place. This will really help out the orphanage so much for a good while, thinking that the others could sleep and not worry about a lack of food. He wanted to cheer and celebrate, needing to give this to their caretaker. So he ran for the orphanage up the hill, a large but not well-kept building due to a lack of funds and barely struggling by with the little money he made. Sander went inside, calling out as he went to their caretaker’s room, only to see them with a man wearing glasses and holding a cane. He was dressed impeccably and serious before he took notice of the envelope.

“So you’re the one that’s been keeping this place afloat and who Jade hired. I must say, you’re quite dedicated and trustworthy to do these kinds of jobs for this long. The fact that you are even here after going to Savanaclaw territory shows that you are a smart one too. I am Azul Ashengrotto, owner of that Octavinelle Lounge. Say, how about we strike a deal that will help all of us?”

The caretaker looked nervous, but Sander was smiling because of the praise coming from someone clearly above him and realizing that he is Jade’s boss. He nodded back, curious before Azul gave a little smirk and pulled out a piece of paper with Contract written on it followed by many lines of words with a blank spot at the bottom. Azul stated that he wanted to officially hire him on as one of his staff where aside from running deliveries and errands like that, he would take the boy under his wing, teaching him the ropes of the business. Someone so loyal was rare in this line of work, reminding Azul of his youth as a determined boy really. In exchange, Sander would be well paid and taken care of for life with this orphanage also being taken care of too.

Sander was smiling and already thinking of how wonderful this opportunity was, that the orphanage wouldn’t have to struggle anymore and everyone would be happy. The caretaker questioned if such an agreement is legal, but Azul quickly reminded them that the boy is an adult and can make his own decisions. Sander didn’t hesitate as he signed the paper with Azul’s pen, sealing the deal and the man having a large grin on his face.

“Wonderful! Come along now, if you’re going to work for me, you must have the proper attire after all.”

Azul rolled up the contract and put it away, holding his hand out as Sander eagerly took it. He gave the money to the caretaker, saying his goodbyes to everyone before leaving with the other. After being bought and dressed in tailored clothes by Azul, he formally met Jade and Floyd before living his new life working under the three of them. He didn’t have to worry about himself or the orphanage needing to survive, just working hard at his job and remaining loyal to Azul over the years. It wasn’t easy at all, but it was well worth the hardships to finally know that he and everyone else would have a happy life.

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Boston Boys [Part Ten]

Summary: Amidst another bank robbery, Chris and Elsa make plans to get away; John makes a confession to Aurelie.    Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1938 Chapter Warnings: Memories of bank robbery and hostage situation, angst, trauma. Square Filled: The entire series (well, bits and pieces of it) will fill my Crossover square for @marvelfluffbingo​​. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)

Boston Boys Masterlist

Just as Elsa was beginning to think summer might never come to Boston, her semester ended and all she had to do was work at the bank. She had been seeing Chris for a couple of months now. The memory of the bank robbery was growing more and more distant. All in all, life wasn’t so bad.

She was laying in the bed in Chris’s new apartment -- one he had secured only a few weeks ago. Elsa had helped him pick out the furnishings and decor; she loved playing house with Chris.

Who was she kidding at this point? The thing she loved the most was being with Chris. She loved Chris. She was in love with Chris.

He came back to the bed with a pint of ice cream and two spoons. Elsa grinned and pulled the sheet up under her arms before accepting one of the spoons from him. Chris set the lid on the nightstand, then sidled up next to Elsa. They dug into the ice cream together. Chris hit the clicker to turn on the TV, and the sounds of the evening news filled the bedroom.

“What are you gonna do with your summer, beautiful?”

Elsa shrugged. “You mean besides spending time with you? Work the bank. Visit home, I guess. Nothing exciting.”

“Let’s take a vacation.” He swallowed a spoonful of ice cream. “Seb’s back up to par, he can cover for me at the shop for a while. We could stop and visit your family, then go up to Maine for a little coastal getaway.”

“You want to meet my family?” Elsa asked. That wasn’t at all what she was expecting.

“I wanna meet your family,” Chris confirmed, taking the spoon from her and setting it to the side with his spoon and the ice cream. “Is that too serious?”

Elsa shook her head. “No. I think I’m pretty serious about you. I know I am, actually. You came into my life at a really horrible time --”

“... made away with over a hundred thousand dollars. The robbers were described as three men and one woman by their voices, though they were wearing masks, hoodies, and gloves, so no other identifying factors were noted. Investigators believe that this may be the same group who robbed Boston Private and took a hostage several months ago.”

That horrible time Elsa had been ready to reference and forget about was suddenly the only thing she could think about. She flashed back to the other teller giving her up as the one with the code for the safe that day, to being yelled at and hit and taken away into that van. Her breath came in short gasps and she reached for Chris’s hand.

“Hey, hey -- breathe, Elsa. Breathe. C’mon.”

Chris encouraged her over and over to breathe, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t get past the hyperventilating and the sobbing. Chris pulled her into his lap, stroking her hair and waiting the reaction out. When she finally began to calm, he clicked the mute button, then wiped away the tear stains from her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Els,” he apologized, “I should have been paying more attention to what was on the news.”

“It’s not your fault,” Elsa assured.

Chris smoothed her hair away from her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just -- they’re still out there, Chris. They still know where I live and they still are doing this to other people. What if the police want to ask me more questions with this new investigation? I want to put it all behind me. I thought I had. I finished the semester with good grades, despite everything. I found you, and things are going so well. Now all of this is slammed back in my face.”

The tears began again. Chris leaned her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go away, all right? We’ll go visit your family, we’ll get away to Maine. I’ll plan everything.”

Elsa nodded against his chest. Sniffling back the tears, she tipped her head up to Chris. When he kissed her softly, Elsa pulled the kiss into more passionate depths. Whatever she could to replace the pain with pleasure.

In a different part of Boston, Aurelie was getting home from a long hospital shift. Though no serious cases had come though, a summer virus had filled the rooms non-stop, it seemed. She had stayed a few extra hours to deal with the overflow before coming home.

She dropped her bag at the front door, then set her cochlear implant on the table by the door, as she usually did, and kicked her shoes off. Her phone buzzed in her pocket; as much as she wanted to ignore it, the possibility of being called back to the hospital when she was needed kept her from letting the call go to voicemail.

I’m at your front door. I would knock, but I know you probably wouldn’t hear me right now.

John’s text message was enough to pull a smile to her face. Aurelie tossed her phone to the side, then opened her front door and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him almost before he was ready. He smiled against her mouth and wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her off the ground and carrying her into the apartment before shutting the door behind him.

When John set her down, Aurelie reached for her implant, but he put a hand over hers. She frowned and asked him what was up.

“I want to tell you something.” He said the words while also fumbling through signing what he was trying to say. With a deep breath, he continued. “I’ve been learning a little so I can tell you an important thing in a way that’s important to you. I love you, Aurelie.”

He even remembered her name sign. With tears in her eyes, Aurelie nodded. She had known when they accepted each other, despite the family backgrounds, that love would come -- and she had waited with great anticipation for this day. She never could have imagined, though, that John would have made the moment so special. So, without speaking, Aurelie signed her reply.

“I love you, too.”

Chris hadn’t dragged his feet on planning their vacation, and by mid-June, Elsa was preparing to head to New York for a few days alone with her family before Chris followed after finishing his week at the barber shop.

They had said their goodbyes at her apartment that morning before Chris went to work, but Elsa had a surprise for him for his birthday, coming up in a couple of days. He wouldn’t arrive in New York until the day after his birthday, but she couldn’t wait. She stopped at the jeweler to pick up the gift, then made time to stop at the shop before she took a cab to Logan.

The bell over the door rang when she entered the shop, and six faces turned to look at Elsa. She spotted Chris immediately and, after giving everyone else a shy little wave, made way over to his chair.

“Hey,” she greeted, kissing his cheek, “I was hoping to catch you between clients.”

Chris kissed her quickly, then took her by the elbow and turned her to the rest of the shop crew. He made quick introductions, then hurried her out of the shop to the front sidewalk.

“This was a good surprise,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her again.

Elsa chuckled. “I’ve never seen you this nervous.”

“Well, ya know, I’ve told them I’m seeing someone, but it’s been a long time since I’ve introduced someone to my family. I was caught off guard is all.”

“That makes sense. I’m sorry to put you in a bad position.”

“No, no,” Chris assured, shaking his head adamantly, holding her hands up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “I was nervous, is all. In a good way. I’m glad you were the one to break the cycle.”

Elsa grinned and pulled the small box from her bag and gave it to him. “I had a good reason for stopping by, promise. I know it’s not your birthday yet, but I was too excited to wait to give you your gift. Happy birthday, Chris.”

He ran his hand over the smooth lid of the box, then leaned down to kiss her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Open it!”

Chris grinned too and tucked the lid underneath the box. He raised his brow at the all-black watch set inside. Elsa took it out for him and turned the watch so he could see behind the watch face.

“‘Trust the timing’,” he read out loud. He smiled to himself; a fitting statement for them. “This is perfect, Elsa. It’s amazing. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know that, but I saved up. I wanted to do this for you.”

Chris cupped her face and kissed her again, softly. “Will you take this with you to New York? I want to take you out when I get there, and I don’t want to chance forgetting this, so I can wear it.”

Elsa nodded and helped him put the watch back in the box before putting it back in her bag. They shared a couple more kisses, then Chris hailed her a cab to take her to the airport. Elsa smiled to herself as the yellow car drove away; she couldn’t wait to be home with Chris and her family.

Chris stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes after Elsa left, smoking a cigarette and preparing himself for the reaction of the crew. He had lit a second cigarette, in an effort to delay the inevitable, when the bell over the shop door rang again.

“Got a light?”

He dug the lighter from his pocket and leaned over to light Scarlett’s cigarette. Things were quiet for about a minute, and then she spoke.

“The rest of them didn’t recognize her, and I’m not going to say anything. They all like her -- what they got from the thirty seconds before you rushed her out.” Scarlett took a long drag from her cigarette. “I like her, too. I can see you do, and you should see how she lights up when she looks at you.”

Chris sighed, scratching at a spot above his eye with his thumb. “Scar …”

“What are you doing, Chris? What’s gonna happen when she finds out you were part of the team that traumatized her and changed her life forever? We scarred her, do you get that? And now you’re fucking her and she’s falling in love with you.”

“I’m not fucking her,” Chris rebutted. “I’m serious about her. Is that why you’re so pissed? Is it really about the robbery?”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Whatever feelings I thought I had left for you, Chris, were gone when you went MIA when Seb needed you. Who the fuck does that?” She shook her head and threw the butt of her cigarette in a puddle nearby. “It doesn’t matter, it’s passed. Seb’s forgiven you, so I guess I should, too. Just know that I’ve moved on from all of that. The problem now is what’s gonna happen when she finds out who you really are.”

Scarlett went back into the shop. Chris shoved his hands in his pockets; Scar wasn’t wrong. He had fucked up, in more ways than one. Then and there, he decided that before they came back to Boston from Maine, he would tell Elsa the truth.

AlloftheThings: @captain-s-rogers​​​​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​​​​@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​​@horsesandbandsforlife​​​​​​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​​​​​​ @captain-rogers-beard​​​​​​ @shynara51​​​​​​ @sea040561​​​​​​  @pinknerdpanda​​​​​​ @xtina2191​​​​​​ @jackryanplz​​​​​​ @beakami​​​​​​ @heartsaved​​​​​​@fullprunerebelstatesman​​​​​​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​​​​​​

Boston Boys:  @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​​​​ @becs-bunker​​​​​​ @shield-agent78​​​​​​ @patzammit​​​​​​ @crazyandanonymous4u​​​​​​@ntlmundy​​​​​​​ @jennmurawski13​​​​​​​ @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too​​​​​​

[tinayoufatlarrdd]

She

Frankly, they didn’t start on the best term.

He met Y/N during a photoshoot for a certain famous magazine. She was assigned to grace the cover of said magazine with the photograph of the world’s most it couple, Harry Styles and the supermodel who gained the universal acclaim for ‘taming the baby Mick Jagger’.

It was all fun and pretty until Y/N accidentally stepped on the girlfriend’s polished toes.

“For fuck’s sake!” Harry screamed at Y/N as the supermodel girlfriend suddenly started limping her way to Harry, asking for some sort of first aid.

Y/N couldn’t stop muttering sorry, offering ice blocks, even kneeling next to the supermodel girlfriend begging for forgiveness. The creative director, the crew, the editors—the whole studio apologized countless times for the tiny slip as the girlfriend pouted, complaining about the unbearable pain, causing Harry to hit the ceiling.

He yelled at Y/N and refused to go on. Y/N, knowing her inferior position in the equation, could only look down as the apologies continuously rolled out of her tongue. To be fair, everyone in the studio (except the lovebirds, obviously) knew it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Y/N was capturing Harry’s solo session while the girlfriend fixed the hair and makeup. She was up next for her solo session and then it’s a wrap. Of course the photographer would move around; every supermodel should be aware of the fact that angles were plenty and it took treads to actually find the right ones. Y/N was constantly moving, camera on hand, eyes on the viewfinder, then suddenly the ‘big accident’ occurred.

Y/N was barefooted, she wouldn’t even be able to squeeze a hard turd if she ever stepped on one with that wonky heel of hers. There was no way she’d had caused the girlfriend that much pain. And nobody blamed Y/N as they all witnessed how the girlfriend walked on set with her eyes on the phone, hitting Y/N first. Nobody but the girlfriend and Harry Styles, of course. So they all just watched in silence as Harry cursed and threw a fit on innocent Y/N.

The power couple didn’t want to continue unless Y/N was replaced. The crew had to comply no matter how irrational the demand sounded. And on top of that, suddenly Y/N was plastered on the internet as the girl who assaulted the world’s biggest supermodel and Harry Styles.

She would never forget the overwhelming uneasiness caused by the sudden rave of negative reviews about her, all from people who endorsed and supported her in the first place but decided to be the footnote of the Hollywood sweethearts’ testimony: ‘awful to work with’, ‘nothing without the connection’, ‘a mediocre photographer who got lucky’, and ‘talentless’.

And she still couldn’t wrap her mind around that dreaded event. She had heard tremendous chivalry and gentlemanlike attitude when it came to Harry Styles yet somehow, he was nothing but a certified dick who put her job on the line that day. Some friends who remained loyal to her speculated that the girlfriend was the bad influence. Some even were convinced that he was voodooed. She didn’t care about either, all she believed was that he’s an absolute wretch with an extraordinarily thick mask. A media trained monkey was the term she occasionally used after a few tequila shots.

“That witch is his Yoko Ono, I tell ya,” the creative director told her during their final meeting—the meeting to let her go, of course.

She just shrugged. All she wanted was her old life back. And if Harry Styles and/or that supermodel got into some terrible misery in that comeback, that would definitely be her cherry on top.

She still got a few gigs, just not as much and definitely not with big profiles like she used to. For Pete’s sake, she was deemed a promising photographer by those fashion executives! She was only getting started. She would have never imagined that with just a short answer during a talk show’s truth or dare game—who’s the one person you’d never want to work with ever again?—the power couple could diminish her entire life’s worth of hard work.

Within the next few months, she’s back to square one. Every morning she tried to contact some old clients who would perhaps still deign to be affiliated with, according to the world’s biggest supermodel’s words on that talk show, ‘the rudest effin’ bitch I’ve ever seen in the industry’.

And after countless unsuccessful attempts, she went back to the cafe she used to work at when she’s still starting her career, not to network like she used to but to pour some coffee for other people again. She’s back with the apron and the napkin and she couldn’t stop being cynical over some hopeful youngsters who got signed right in front of her eyes, on the table she just wiped.

Her cameras were laid unused on top of her rack and the mini darkroom she built in her apartment became a storage room. Believing she had failed miserably in life, she found herself no longer had hopes on anything. All she knew was to get by the day.

It was a cold December night. Everyone else went home to celebrate the holidays so she decided to do the shift. She’d be paid double plus she wouldn’t have to face her family, which would go eerie in this state of her life, so it was the better choice.

Having had just finished cleaning the whole cafe, she put on her coat. She was ready to come home to… nothing. Her mind raced back to this time last year, where she was fully booked and couldn’t wait to come home so she could recharge herself for an exciting tomorrow. Her life had become exceptionally dull and it was painful to go on.

An abrupt banging on the door halted her train of desperate thoughts.

“We’re closed. Can’t you see the time?! It’s almost midnight!” she snarked, back facing the intruder.

“S- Sorry, love…” the hoarse voice was paused with a couple of hiccups. “‘m just completely devastated…”

She rolled her eyes as she turned around and she almost had a heart attack. There stood the man who destroyed her life, terribly wasted out of his mind. He could barely stand straight without holding onto the doorknob.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she rolled her eyes, asking some deity entity if there was ever one.

“Hey! I know yeh…” Harry tried to get to her but his legs just gave up.

Falling face first, Y/N really wanted to leave him on the street. But of course she had that little voice of reason inside her that constantly screamed, “If you abandon him, you’re nothing better than him!” She was a decent person and she really hated it this time.

“Come on up,” she pulled Harry up and lingered his arm around her shoulder to help him walk. “Where do you live?”

“I don’t k- know,” he giggled. “I can’t remember, love…”

“Try,” she slapped his arm when he almost fell off yet again.

The snow was pouring down and they stood by the empty crossroad. Harry wouldn’t even remember his own name by now and she didn’t know how to get to his house. There was no other choice than to bring him home to her place.

It was nothing short of hard work to carry a man twice her size to her house on foot since there was not even a single cab around. It was even harder to hear him tell a story about his first imaginary friend during that wobbly trip where he tumbled more than five times and she had to pick him up every time. But it was the hardest when she had to take off his shoes so it wouldn’t mess with her couch—he didn’t want to take it off, nagging her with numerous ‘Go away, Mum!’s.

When she finally got to lay on her bed, she was too tired to even think of what just happened. She literally did some cardio workout bringing Harry home safe so unlike her usual nights, she fell asleep quite fast this time.

It was around four in the morning when she felt a body of weight sunk into her side. She turned around to face his uninvited guest sound asleep, legs tangled over hers like a knot. She quietly removed her legs and tried to get up. She needed to move to the couch, or anywhere far away from this invader.

This is my fucking house, why am I the one sleeping outside, she thought to herself. Anger boiling at the top of her head as her movement was stopped by his strong hand.

“Stay here…” he slurs.

He didn’t seem conscious to her. Maybe he mistook her as his girlfriend.

“I’m not—“

“I know,” he cut her off while still sleeping. “Just stay here for a while. It’s cold out there.”

She sighed and laid back down. Stiff and uncomfortable, but obviously exhausted, she closed her eyes as Harry’s arm pulled her closer to him. She could only hope the night would soon end or better yet, this was all not real.

When Harry woke up, he found a sticky note on his forehead.

‘You were hammered last night, didn’t know where you live so I took you home. Nothing happened, you just sorta burst into where I work around midnight so I kind of had to not abandon you. Don’t make yourself at home because this is my home.’

He couldn’t remember anything. He remembered getting blind drunk after gulping those spirit shots but what happened after that was redacted. His surrounding was unfamiliar and there was no other sign of life other than him that morning.

After splashing his face with cold water, he looked around the apartment. It was modest but very personal. There were random film rolls hung by the ceiling as Harry made his way to the living room. He put on his shoes by the couch as he observed the vinyl shelf at the corner of the room. It was filled with 60s-70s biggest musicians, from Jimi Hendrix to Van Morrison—which grew his curiosity of the owner. There were books that he also read, and the series of psychedelic photographs framed by the doorway was the biggest tic that made him wonder: how did he end up in this hippie’s safe haven, one that he actually wanted to live in when he was young? Did he get so hammered that he traveled back in time? His head hurt too bad to even think of the possibilities, all he knew was there was something about the owner that felt familiar and he ought to know them. He had to.

Harry rushed to shower at his home and got some aspirin. After running some overdue errands, he immediately went back to the apartment. He knocked on the door a few times to no avail so he decided to wait by his car outside.

Y/N was relieved when there was no sign of Harry when she got home that night. She would be lying if she wasn’t a tad bit worried of him considering he could absolutely die that night if he went to the wrong place, but then again he was the guy who ended her career so she couldn’t care less.

She picked Nick Drake’s Pink Moon from her vinyl collection and put it on the turntable. Relaxing by the couch that still reeked of alcohol and him, she ignored the constant knock on the door. It was usually her crazy neighbor looking for his nonexistent cat.

It was the sixth track that she finally got up and opened the door, hoping to end the annoyance of her peaceful evening.

Her eyes bugged out when she saw the figure by her door. It was him again.

Harry, with his furrowed eyebrows and lanky feet, looked just as surprised as she was. He clearly remembered who she was and somehow, not even Nick Drake’s soothing voice could calm her down. Filled with rage, she slammed the door right in front of his face.

Harry was shocked to see her. He’d never thought in a million years that he’d ever meet her again, moreover lodged by her. He wanted to thank her but he knew she’d probably throw a glass of water to his face. But he could not just leave.

So he did the tackiest trick in the book. When the track from behind the closed door hit Free Ride, one of his favourites, he began singing along as loud as possible. Some neighbors shushed him, some even scolded him but he didn’t stop.

She heard him loud and clear. She ignored him at first, but then she received a noise complaint call from the super. Upset, she thumped her way towards the door.

“Stop it!” she gritted her teeth as she opened it.

He stopped. “May I come in?”

“What do you want?” she barked.

“Just wanted to say thanks,” he muttered low.

“You’re welcome. There,” she slammed the door again.

There was nothing he could do so he decided to leave for now.

He came again the next day, this time saying there was something he needed to give back to her.

“What now?” she wasn’t as upset as the day before, but was still unfriendly as they just stood by the door leaf.

Harry handed her the sticky note she left on his forehead the day before.

“You can keep it,” she said as she closed the door.

No slamming door. A progress, Harry thought.

He came back again two days after that, carrying a limited release Fleetwood Mac record signed by Stevie Nicks herself.

“Got Stevie to sign it. They don’t have this at the stores anymore,” he presented it as if he was doing some product placement scene.

“Look, Harry Styles,” she crossed her arms. “I don’t even know what the hell do you want from me but I really don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. You’ve done enough.”

“Yes, about that…” Harry scratched his forehead. “’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” she pushed the door but Harry was quick to hold it open.

“I’d help you make things right again,” his green eyes were desperate for her answer.

She let out a heavy sigh and moved aside as if cuing him to enter her little bubble. Harry entered immediately, not wanting to waste any more time in the outside world.

She was listening to Neil Young’s Harvest Moon, to which Harry sang along gently. She could hate him all she wanted but he really sounded divine especially within close proximity.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else, anyway?” she sat on the far end of the couch.

He put the record on the coffee table. “Where, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Some talk show to say some shit about me with the girlfriend perhaps?”

“Look ‘m really sorry, I truly am,” he sighed. “And ‘m not with her anymore…”

He then explained everything. How he fell in love for the first time in his life with the supermodel who was perfect, beautiful, smart, and everything he’d ever dreamed of. How he was so sure of her but she didn’t feel the same so he tried to show it with everything he’s got—grand romantic gestures, going public (which was personally hard for him since he was a very private person), and siding with her on every kind of problem even if it meant hauling over an innocent photographer’s coals. He also explained how he felt awful most of the time since he’d changed so much for a person who didn’t even love him back and he began to feel lost. It all then culminated a couple nights ago when she decided that it was all still not enough and broke up with him over a phone call. That’s when he went crazy with the liquor and ended up wandering around.

She felt sorry for him and although she knew he could be lying, she could understand his pain. So, she decided to accept his apology. She knew it wouldn’t change anything for her but at least she wouldn’t have to carry around so much hatred in her life and he could also move on with his life, not haunted by the guilt.

He promised to help her gain her reputation back. The two planned to make some exclusive photoshoot of Harry himself.

They began meeting every now and then. At first, they would talk about all things professional and did photoshoots. She started receiving positive feedbacks especially after Harry gave her the shoutouts—it didn’t take a split second for his loyal fans to swarm her online profiles. With her raising popularity she started getting bigger gigs again, even bigger than her old gigs. She quit working at the cafe and her darkroom was occupied yet again.

Then, they would spend even more time together. He would make up excuses to meet with her, like he needed to see how she developed her rolls or coming by with a batch of eggs saying he was worried she ran out of eggs. Y/N knew Harry was just feeling lonely after the breakup so she always let him in. Nobody wants to hurt alone, she always thought.

He soon didn’t need any more excuses as he had become an extended roommate of hers. He always said he wanted to live in the 70s and her apartment was like a dream home for him. She just brushed it off, saying it’s because of her hidden interior designing talent. And with each passing day, as they grew closer, her hatred dissipated and was replaced with something strange yet pleasant inside her heart.

She learned the depths of him that no one else knew and it all became the little things only she understood. She felt privileged to gain the limited access.

Sometimes he’d show her the sneak peak of his newest song and she would give notes as she watered the many plants around her place. Sometimes they would play board games while discussing the possibility of living on Mars. Some other times, Harry would lay his head on her legs, not saying a word while Karen Dalton’s magnificent voice filled the air.

Her favourite moment with him had to be when they did the impromptu picnic under the stars. With a bottle of cheap wine, portable turntable, and shared blanket, they laid by the garden as they talked about their fears and desires. That was the first time in such a long time she could open up to someone and he said that made him feel so special.

Of course he was special to her. That’s why she still tiptoed around him from time to time, avoiding conversations like her love life because she didn’t want him to think that she’d like him when actually the growing feelings inside her heart had begun to suffocate her.

The way he spontaneously baked for her (and snobbishly told the infamous ‘I was a baker’ story), the way he laughed at her jokes, the way his eyes sparked when they were dancing around, the way he snored a little when he’s sleeping, the way he called her name—she wanted to just sink herself into his warmth and never let go.

Yet she couldn’t help but wonder whether he felt the same way too. The frequency of the supermodel’s name mentioned in their conversations has since reduced to almost never, but she still felt a sting in her heart as she knew she could never replace her. She was, after all, his first love. And don’t get her started on the physical prowess which she obviously lacked in compared to the supermodel. She didn’t dare to ask Harry whether he’s really forgotten about her, afraid that he’d find out her true feelings for him. So she remained the same. At least, he would be still by her side.

At least, there would never be any rejections.

The city was already blossoming when she realized that Harry had left traces of himself on every corner of her place. The hung film rolls were filled with his silly expressions, so was the polaroid collections stuck on her walls. He had installed a pile of pants by the corner of her living room so that he didn’t have to bring any change. And of course her bathroom now had a pair of tooth brushes. It rocketed her hopes but still, her doubts crept inside her mind every so often.

That lazy Saturday night, she went home from grocery shopping to find Harry asleep on her couch. He looked so soft and warm and she couldn’t help but to run her fingers through his smooth hair. She nervously came closer to his face and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead.

She got up immediately, afraid to wake him up. To her surprise, he suddenly grabbed her arm.

“What was that for, love?” he asked.

He didn’t even have the bed face he usually had, which led her to believe that he wasn’t really asleep.

“Were you pretending to be asleep?” she pulled away.

Harry stood up just as fast and within seconds, he wrapped her in his hug. He placed a kiss on top of her head and slowly traveled down to her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. His lips roamed over hers as he slowly pressed them. It wasn’t heated and full of lust but rather deep and passionate as if he was taking his time.

It didn’t take long before they made their way to the bedroom and undressed each other with no rush. There was no spoken words, no roughness, just two people tangled up in heated infatuation.

When she woke up, he was still there. And it was beautiful.

It was still beautiful the next few months when they became a couple. He was her world and everything else was just background noise. He made her feel like the only person that mattered, as if everything that happened before ‘them’ was unreal. That this was the only real thing and it was all too good to be true.

Y/N should know better though, that life came just like a full circle. She just didn’t expect to actually be put back into the circle so soon.

They were invited to an afterparty of a fashion line Harry was strongly tied to and Y/N was more than proud to be by his side when he was introduced to be the muse that season. He was having the time of his life and so was she. The two held hands the entire time as they talked to everyone.

The belle of the ball, Harry himself seemed overwhelmed with the amount of love he received. He occasionally pressed her hand a little tighter when he was nervous, to which she’d respond with stroking his hand with her thumb. The simplest gestures that they’d developed overtime as they grew accustomed to each other’s idiosyncrasies or as Harry said, the good stuff about you.

That was until he saw a glimpse of her in the middle of the crowd that he suddenly let go of Y/N’s hand as if he was afraid that she would see him with Y/N. It would have been a little over a year since she last saw the supermodel and almost a year since Harry last met her.

All this time, Harry constantly convinced her that her insecurities over his love was nothing, that he only wanted her. And yet, he never even said those three words to her.

She knew now why he never did.

All this time, it wasn’t doubt that kept haunting her. It was a hunch.

The music was blasting but for Y/N, everything was silence. It only took a few seconds before she realized the look in Harry’s eyes. As if it was never truly her his eyes set on. That she was just a company to pass time. That she was the one he wanted just never loved.

She was never the one.

She tried to grab his hand before he’d be gone for good, and could only let out a faint ‘Please, don’t.’

But he could only mutter a little ‘Sorry.’ as he let go of her grasp and made his way through the crowd, trying to get to her, while leaving Y/N drowning in the sea of human who celebrated the man that she loved.

Part two.

Part three.

[nomnomsik]

Whitechapel

Pairing: Sugar daddy (1880′s)!JK x FEM!Reader

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: I heavily based this off events and theories of the Jack the Ripper! I tried my best to incorporate some of the language of the time in London/Victorian era. I’m sorry if it doesn’t do it justice! (I don’t know much about it and only worked off my own research) If you see some of the references to theories let me know~ Can you find them all? Also, this is for the anon who wanted SugarDaddy BTS x OC

Trigger warnings: blood, murder, sexual themes, prostitution, incisions, cuts, body mutilation, yandere themes, obsession, toxicity, noona reader, woman troubles, toxic masculinity. Please do not read if you are sensitive 

“Mayhaps it wouldn’t be the best idea to go out tonight, no? Nonetheless, I can take care of you and any burdens you may have, my darling.”

The younger male looked worriedly, his voice laced with concern and love as he stared at you. The two of you stood near the door as you slipped on your worn out boots. You had a tattered and worn out dress on that was in very poor condition. Your hair was messily put together, a dusty pin sticking out.

“If you remember, you know my answer from the first time. I’ll be seeing you again later.”

Your voice was cold and short as you went to leave immediately. Your response was rough and straight to the point, fitting your very poor life. Everything in your life was what it was supposed to be growing up poor, except for the gorgeous man who stood next to you. His posture, diction, and mannerisms screamed rich.

“How long, my dove?”

Without turning back, you answered.

“Oh well… Perhaps it depends on how long my client wants.”

With that, the door shut closed, leaving the man all alone in your home. His fists were clenched as he rolled his tongue on the inside of his mouth. He turned the other way, walking upstairs to the small bedroom. It was much smaller than any bedroom he had ever stepped foot in. It smelled of wet wood and the waste from the streets that roamed around this part of the city.

As he stared at the night sky, the illuminating lights of the London cityscape seemed to be the only thing that welcomed him in your home.

Jungkook discarded his dark brown trench coat, tossing it onto the neatly made bed. His fingers came up to his tie, loosening it at the top before unwinding it all together. All he had left was his tailored dress shirt accompanied with his dress shoes that had developed dirt over time in this area.

He crossed his arms as he stared out of the window, the cool breeze of the night blowing past him. No matter what he seemed to do, his mind was filled to the brim of you. 

Your gentleness and purity all taken for granted by these disgusting older men who only wanted to use you for their own pleasures. And yet, he knew you didn’t have a choice.

No matter how much he spoiled you with gifts or beautiful encrusted jewelry, you always smiled, refusing to accept them. When he forced you to take them, you placed and stored them away, brushing his questions to the side.

It was always, “I’ll wear it someday.” or “Maybe not today.” He quickly grew agitated. The only thing you chose to keep was the house he had bought for you at the East end of the city. 

This side of the city was far from luxury. It was dirty and disgusting, filled with poverty and swarm of immigrants that had no common decency. He had always believed it was because you were too prideful to accept anything from him, but then again, much as he wanted to deny it, maybe you enjoyed what you did.

It didn’t help him that he was younger. Maybe you saw him as a kid. Maybe it hurts you to see a younger man plead on his knees to take care of you. Maybe you wanted him to find someone better. He groaned, holding his head in both hands.

Couldn’t you see there was no one else for him? He remembered the day he burned with rage and jealousy when you told him you were going back out again. It was like you threw all his hard work away. He worked tirelessly, running through London during the nights just for you. He even got the top headlines on the papers just for you.

If you truly knew what kind of person he was, then would you see how much of a man he was? Jungkook laughed cynically to himself, burying his head in his arms. As he stood up, his eyes were wide and a smile graced his face. He flipped open his pocket watch, before returning downstairs.

“Oh, my silly love,” He moaned, threading his arms through his suit vest before buttoning it up. “The things you do to make me crazy.”

With that, Jungkook opened the door, stepping out on the dirty streets of the Eastside.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇──◇─◇

Labored breaths filled the grimy and unkempt room as you pulled your clothing to your bare chest. The older man threw his spare coins and bills at you that you desperately caught with your hands. Within minutes, you slipped on your messy and wrinkled dress before securing the money in your pocket.

You were pushed out of the door and back on the dark streets of London. The muddy and rotting smell filled your nose as you quickly walked down the darkened streets. You had always known it was dangerous to be walking out on the streets alone, especially this late at night.

You remembered the way your roommate had come up to you, pleading you to not go out again. He went on his knees, scared for his life he would lose you. 

How long has it been? You silently cursed to yourself as you rushed back. You missed the security of Jungkook’s arms even though you were sure he only pitied you. Why else would he waste his wealth on you?

You were dim-witted. You needed money. It was the only way to survive and yet, when your roommate came up to you, his pockets stuffed with an unimaginable amount of coins, you rejected. You truly were foolish. From then on, you rejected everything, swearing on your pride to never give in.

As you quickly unlocked the door, you were greeted with Jungkook who sat quietly in the living room, watching the latest silent film. Or was it a motion picture? You didn’t know the specifics nor cared. You didn’t have the luxury for that sort of hobby. Jungkook smiled at you, standing up before wrapping both of his arms to give you a tight hug.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” His delicate fingers brushed the back of your head as he straighten your hair out. “Do you not feel well, my love?” His eyes scanned your face for any sign of discomfort. You shrugged, brushing him off and once again breaking his heart.

“Could you tell me the time?” You asked, walking up the wooden stairs that creaked.

“It's ten-to-four, darling. You don’t know what I had to endure with your prolonged stay out there…” Jungkook pouted, following you up the stairs. He leaned on the doorway of the bedroom, closing his pocket watch.

Jungkook watched as you nonchalantly stripped out of your only ‘good’ dress, throwing the thing you’ve worn for a solid four years.

“Oh love, why don't you wear any of the dresses I’ve given you?” He questioned, walking over you as he brushed your hair once again. He lowered himself down to your ear, digging his hands into your shoulder. “And why won’t you sleep with me, sweetheart?”

You jumped, pushing him off.

“Leave me be.”

His face contorted in pain once again.

“Darling, I love-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Jungkook. Leave me.” You warned as you slipped into the bed, covering yourself with the knitted blanket that began to develop holes.

Jungkook sighed, nodding before slipping downstairs.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇──◇─◇

Bread, potato, cheese, gruel, and broth. Breakfast. You quietly ate at the small dining room table that sat in the middle of the living room. Meanwhile, Jungkook walked over, peering at you and your meal.

“Dove, that will surely not be enough to fill you up.” He looked distressed and anxious, looking at your thing arms and bare bones. “Why don’t we take a joyous trip away from the East side?”

You cleaned your fingers on a dirty cloth, looking up to meet the younger man’s eyes.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll decline.”

Jungkook let out a deep sigh, clearly frustrated. It irked him how much you refused him. What was your problem? Why were you so set on having a miserable life?

“Don't you want to be respected, bricky lass?” He grunted. “Why is it that you seem to be miffed by me whenever I try to lend you my services? When I try to be a remedy for your poor life?”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Even if I did desire for those to respect me… Do you think that perhaps those people will?”

Before Jungkook could answer, you cut him off again.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Jeon. I believe no matter what I do or what you do, you cannot save me from this life. I don’t need your help, nor did I ask for your help. Don’t you know what they think about women like me?”

Jungkook knew. He gulped loudly, averting his eyes to the side.

“Darling… You know that there’s no way I think that-”

“I don’t care what you think, Mr. Jeon. I sell myself for money! They call me a hussy because I am!” You yelled, forgetting about your meal as you approached the handsome man. “I’m a fallen woman! That’s what they all say… And I’m fine with it. I don’t need you. I don’t want your money.”

Jungkook remained silent, his eyes dropping down to the floor. You jumped as he abruptly moved, grabbing his trench coat and heading towards the door. Your feet quickly followed him as he opened the entrance of the door, revealing the light of the East side morning.

“Please be careful at night, y/n. We’ll see each other another time. If you see the moon, think of me.”

Jungkook shut the door and you watched like a puppy out of the window, following his powerful strides down the contaminated street. When he was no longer in view, a sigh left your body. You put the spare food away in one of those recently developed refrigeration machines.

You walked over to the front door, opening it to the foul air.

“Good morning!~” A bright voice greeted you as well as a ring of a bell.

“Good morning, Jin.” You replied calmly, walking down the front steps. He handed you the morning paper before giving you a warm smile that scrunched his eyes and puffed out his cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Todays, issue…” His voice trailed off as you looked back at the front page curiously. “A psycho is out there, y/n. Watch out!”

You looked down at the front headline, your eyes widening. GHASTLY MURDER AT THE EAST END! Two hussies were found on the streets of the East end, their heads decapitated and their organs removed. The officials suspect that-

“Thanks for letting me know, Jin.” You thanked, before waving him off.

“See you again soon!” He chirped before riding off to the next set of houses.

You walked back in, locking the front door while setting the paper down on the table. You took a seat thinking over your choices. How much money could you survive on without going out for a few nights? 

The murders seemed to get worse and worse nowadays. Everyone in the East side was unhappy with the high poverty and you assumed the lack of happiness resulted in violence.

You laid on the only piece of furniture in your house, stretching your legs out on the plush cushion. As you drifted off into a quick snooze, your mind faded off.

“Y/n…”

His breath was rough and ragged as he hovered above you, leaving a trail of kisses down your skin. His thrusts were slow and steady as he looked at you straight in the eyes. Every emotion and expression on your face was carefully observed. He slowly increased speed as you loosened more and more for him. His grip tightened around your hips as he pushed deeper and deeper into you. You cried out as you met every one of his thrusts.

“Love… I don’t think I c-can-” Jungkook stuttered, his hips erratically sliding in and out. “Ah…!” He grunted, slipping out before spilling his white cum all over your chest and stomach.

“Jungkook…” You murmured, your arm stretched out for him.

“Yes, love?” He whispered, bringing you closer to his chest. He wrapped an arm around your back, your chest squishing against his.

“Thank you.”

Immediately, your eyes snapped open as a raging hot burst of embarrassment filled your face. You slapped your cheeks, cooling that humiliating memory.

“I was so…!” You scolded, hastily standing up and finding something else to do in your small home before heading for your morning job at the restaurant in town.

Needless to say, you didn’t see Jungkook for the next three days. His presence was definitely missed, but you felt pride swell in your chest at the independence. You could make your own money and you could certainly rely on yourself. You didn’t need his pity. Or maybe… you weren’t used to such affection before from another man.

However, you shook your head, dressing for another night out. You met your newest customer during your shift, quickly sharing information and prices. He wasn’t the most handsome man in the world. He was overweight and lacked proper hygiene, but he was much better than some of the other customers you had stayed with before. Money was money after all.

With that, you slipped on your trusty boots before heading out again.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇──◇─◇

“Oh my sweetheart, you truly are smart despite what you say you are.” He sighed blissfully, staring once against at the bright moon that hung over London. He sat in his home, looking out from the bathroom window. Jungkook’s hands unbuttoned his dress shirt, throwing the item into the bathtub. Then he unbuckled his pants before throwing it too in the bathtub along with the shirt. Turning the faucet on, he splashed water on his face before thoroughly scrubbing his gorgeous skin.

As he rubbed his face with a cloth, he stared at his reflection and his toned chest.

“If you only saw the look on their faces! And the fact I still came home before you did…! Ahahah!” Jungkook laughed loudly to himself, tossing the knife that sat on the kitchen counter into the bathtub with all the other bloody items. Cleaning would commence immediately.

It was such a pleasure for Jungkook to see you remain in your home after those nights. It was pleasing to see his actions have proved successful. No longer would you need to go out. All he needed was to scare you, to make you question whether your job was truly worth the risk. Slicing up those stupid women was completely worth it.

Now you wouldn’t go out, destroying your purity more and more with other men. Men that weren’t him.

Unfortunately, you were too difficult to persuade. He watched as you left your home on the third night. Did you not see all the warnings? The dozen of papers warning women to not leave their homes at night because of him? His body was fueled with anger as you walked into another home.

“Because of your actions, my precious dove… Another will have to pay the price in your stead. When will you learn…?”

His feet carried him swiftly through the night. Ever since his recent killings, the alleys were scoured by police and authorities, all searching for him. He was to move quickly and carefully, avoiding all suspicion. It was always interesting to read the papers.

Doctor? Surgeon? Ridiculous. He mocked them all, sending in letters in which he explicitly called them fools. Screw them, they wouldn’t understand. But he loved the name, Jack the Ripper? Who knew it would fit him perfectly. Two letters and it was truly him. Two more deaths and maybe you'll finally stop this foolish game.

His eyes spotted a woman down the street, quickly rushing out a house. A house that looked in too good of conditions for her to live in. His eyes analyzed her body moments. Why was she rushing and why, most importantly, did it look like her clothes were hastily put on? Jungkook licked his lips, his hand sliding the blade out into the open, yet concealing it in the darkness.

Jungkook studied his prey for a bit longer before he no longer needed to watch. Bills and coins. The woman counted them for a few seconds before shoving them in her pocket. He laughed to himself before quickly following after her. Almost from out of the darkness, he was suddenly behind her and as the woman turned around she was met with her doom.

Down with one strike, she fell, her head harshly colliding with the cobblestone. With quick knife work, he sliced the woman open, blood gushing open and spilling onto the darkened streets.

“Bloody whore! It’s because of you. You!” He emphasized, his voice hushed to avoid suspicion. “It’s because of you my love thinks she has to do the same.” He grit, deeply slicing her throat and gashing her face.

With a flip of his knife, he was about to cut the abdomen before he heard several footsteps. Jungkook paused, shoving the blade back into his coat pocket. He darted his head side to side, carefully listening for the direction of the sound.

North… He made a run for it, leaving the corpse on the ground. He ran west, maneuvering through the alleys and streets while using the darkness of the night to his advantage. Luckily for him, he avoided all officials that were searching the streets.

However, Jungkook clicked his tongue. Those damn police! Why the hell are they still out this early in the morning? He wasn’t satisfied. Not only was he interrupted, but he also didn’t even to mutilate the genitals or cut open the abdomen. They wouldn’t even know it’s him!

I guess… There is no more time to think. I have to find another one to make up for this loss.

Making his way from Berner Street, he ran towards Mitre Square. He hid in the shadows of the buildings, taking in deep breaths to calm his pounding heart. When he opened his eyes again, he looked around in the Square, before seeing a lovely woman who sat on the benches.

Easy.

After checking and fixing his appearance, he walked over to the woman.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but is this seat taken?” He asked politely, watching as the woman’s cheeks flushed a tint of pink.

“No, of course not. Please.” She pointed to the free seat, allowing him to sit right next to her.

“And what’s your name? It’s awfully strange to be alone here during the night after all these horrible events that have taken place over the past weeks.” Jungkook gave her a warm smile which made her blush worsen.

“Oh… I was… Well… I was supposed to go home with a man today, but I don’t think he’s coming or showing up.” She admitted softly.

“I see…” Jungkook sympathized, nodding his head up and down. “But then why do you seem so upset? It doesn’t suit your delicate face.” He extended his hand out, brushing a few strands away from her eyes. She looked down, completely flustered.

“Well, it’s just, I have some payments I need to make… But I don’t have enough money for it and I was hoping the man would show up tonight… I’m just, oh I’m not so sure, I feel let down.”

It was almost an instinct, as Jungkook responded immediately.

“Then, how about, if you could let me take you home? I would be incredibly honored to be with such a beautiful woman and I would be happy to give you payment.”

He cringed internally.

Her eyes lit up as she stared at Jungkook with love and adoration. He smiled back at her, holding one of her hands before bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of her hand.

“It would be my pleasure.” He winked, before looking at his surroundings. There was no one. He stood up with the woman’s hand still held by him. “It would also be my pleasure if you got out of my sight.”

Before the woman could even look back up, Jungkook brought his blade up, slashing her throat. He severed it completely before moving on to her abdomen. He ripped it open with his blade, leaving a jagged wound and disconnected the left kidney from her body.

“Haha...hahahaha!” He smiled, ripping a majority of her uterus off. “You bloody whore. Absolutely disgusting… But, you should’ve seen the look on your face, love.” He spit mockingly.

“Why won’t you accept me?!” He cried, slashing her face apart. “I would do anything for you! I’m killing for you!! I have all the money you could imagine, so why!”

Blood splattered onto the ground.

“Can’t you!”

Blood pooled out from under her.

“Accept me?!”

Breathing heavily, he stood up and looked down at the mutilated corpse. His body felt numb. He felt like he was an immature kid again. Had he just taken his anger out on something again? Was he going to regret his actions? Right now, it didn’t feel like he was going to any time soon. As long as you never stepped out of the house again to go on one of your sexual adventures, then he had truly succeeded.

Jungkook ran. His feet carried him to your home, unlocking the door himself and throwing all his dirty and bloodstained clothing into the bathtub once again. It took about an hour of work, scrubbing all the blood away and washing his body off. Blood flushed down the bathtub drain and he squeezed the remaining water from his clothes before hanging them up to dry.

“Ahh…” He sighed, relaxing on your bed. His eyes fluttered shut as his body melted into a deep sleep.

You followed shortly after, sticking your key to unlock your door. When you felt no heavy friction or the click of the door, you pushed open the door to find it already unlocked. Your eyes immediately caught the pair of dress shoes that sat in front of the door. You sighed, throwing off your own boots before climbing the stairs.

When you walked into the bedroom, you sighed once again. The younger male was spread out across your sheets, drooling sloppily on your already dirty blankets. Before you’re about to yell at the younger, you just sigh, huddling next to him.

It’s no surprise you woke up first. You got far away from the youthful man, stepping down the creaky stairs to receive the morning paper once again. As you stepped out at the bright Friday morning, the Eastside seemed to shine back. It was quite beautiful despite living in the most run-down area in London.

“Good morning, Jin!” You called as the paper-boy stepped on the brakes as he approached your home.

“Good morning to you too, Ms. y/n!” He chirped, handing over the paper. “Today’s story is crazy! This is no foozler, let me tell you that.”

You looked down at the front page, your mouth slightly parted as two pictures of blurred women that were brutally killed greeted you back.

“Oh my-” You choked, your hand clamping your mouth as if you were about to choke or gag.

“I know, I know. I had the same reaction if I do say so myself, Ms. Y/n. Hedge-creepers are having it rough by this psycho. It seems like the mutton shunters have no choice but to protect them now.”

“I see…” You forced out a smile and waved him goodbye. As you entered the living room, you threw the paper onto the small dining room table.

This was absolutely crazy! Two murders in a single night?

The huge bolded words of “Double Event” stood proudly on the front cover it made you sick to the stomach. As you turned around, you bumped into a solid chest.

“Oh, I apologize for that dove. It wasn’t in my intention to sneak up on you like this.” He apologized, steadying your body with both hands. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I was reading the morning paper, Jungkook.” You pointed at the paper that laid on the table. Jungkook walked over, studying the front cover while smirking to himself. “Who could do such a thing?” You complained, shaking your head.

“Damfino.” He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Surely if this is the same person, you shouldn’t be leaving at night, sweetheart.” He cooed, kissing the top of your head. “Let me take care of you, please?”

You stood there thoughtfully, thinking his offer over. But, the irking feeling of already being a shame to all of society immediately erased the thought.

“I will be alright, Mr. Jeon.”

“What’s got you so poked up, darling?” He asked as your cheeks flushed. “Why are you so determined to reject me? Am I someone who’s skilamalink?”

“No.”

“Then why?!” He raised his voice this time as you flinched. You turned around and met his pained expression. “Please! Just tell me. At this point, I’ll change! I’ll do anything!” He grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking your frail body.

“Am I meater? Is that why? Darling, please talk to me!” He wailed. “Am I too young or do I not meet your standards of being manly?”

“Mr. Jeon… Stop…” You broke free for a second and ran up the stairs, Jungkook following and running after you. He forced the door of the bedroom open as you took several steps back. “What are you-”

He grabbed both of your wrists, crushing his lips and devouring you fully. Jungkook pushed you further and further back into the room until you fell on top of your bed. You felt hot and uncomfortable as Jungkook did whatever the hell he wanted to do. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as saliva pooled down your lips. He nibbled on your bottom lips and sucked, rarely giving you enough time to breathe. His hold on your wrists was like iron vices that forced you in place.

“Mm!” You winced, struggling in his hold. With a loud pop and lick of his lips, Jungkook finally let go.

“What do I have to do to get you to love me?” He pleaded, staring into your eyes.

“There’s nothing…” You harshly breathed out. “I’m a fallen woman.”

“No!” Jungkook lunged at you, pinning you down with both hands as he breathed heavily. “Please… Just feel the same way for me… Please. Please!” He cried, squeezing your wrists.

He looked hopefully at you, but his heart dropped as you shook your head in defiance.

His lips trembled as he stared back at you. So it doesn’t matter now… Nothing matters now.

His body shook as a tear made its way up to the surface of his eye, rolling down his cheek.

“I just wanted to love you…” He whimpered.

“I know.”

“I wanted to be loved, dove.” He pleaded.

“I know... I’m sorry.”

After the first tear rolled down his cheeks, a consistent stream pooled down. He rubbed one of his eyes, keeping his hold on your right arm.

“I love you.” He whispered.

He reached for his blade from the back of his pocket as he hovered above you. His tears stuck to his face as he brought the knife down, making a deep gash on your throat and severing it down the spine.

“AHH!” He screamed, ripping and tearing you to pieces. He cut open your abdomen, emptying almost all the organs as your mouth fell agape, your life completely gone from your eyes. Your deep crimson blood spilled onto your favorite blanket and through the thin sheets of your bed as Jungkook cut you to pieces.

Your organs fell out, dropping onto the sheets as well as Jungkook hacked at your face. If you couldn’t be his, nobody deserved you. Nobody deserved your beauty and purity. He was your final moment, the last thing your eyes saw.

“Why?! WHY?!” He hollered, his mind going numb as he continued his ministrations. “WHY?!” He wailed, grabbing his right hand with his left and slowly lowering the blade down. 

He breathed heavily, his eyes wide and a smile graced on his lips. Bringing his bloody hand to his mouth, he touched his curled lips.

“I’m… happy?” He whispered, looking down at your disfigured body. “Haha… Hahahaha!” He giggled, a tongue coming out to lick the blood off his finger. “Hahaha! Oh, how funny this truly is!”

Jungkook stumbled back up, looking back at the room. He inspected the floors as well as his appearance to make sure he left no trail. He paused as his foot passed the threshold and looked back at you one last time. Immediately, he turned back, sinking his hand into the gory mess.

“Mine…” He picked up the no longer beating heart and brought it to his chest. He slowly tucked it into his trench coat. “You’ll always be with me, love.”

From then on, Jungkook disappeared from London. Women were no longer found with his notorious incisions and marks. 

How long has it been? As he sat in his new home, he dipped his pen in ink, scribbling nonsensical words in his journal.

This was no home. He wrote.

They found out. Close people. They did.

Scared at first, but realized…

His writing trailed off.

They knew but kept it private. They didn’t want to ruin themselves.

Now, I’m here. They said it’ll be my final resting place.

I’ll be with you, my love.

Just wait for me.

I loved and killed the only important person in my life.

Now, it’s time.

JK the Ripper

The door to his room opened, revealing a fresh and young man.

“It’s time. Get up.”

Jungkook rose, following the man out. He touched his own hair, realizing just how long it got.

“Ahh, no good. You wouldn’t like that, right darling? I’m not handsome with long hair…” He chuckled to himself as he walked through the dark hallways. “They’re keeping me in some weird place…” He whispered. “They say it’ll help me, but the only thing I really need is you, my love.”

A pair of guards opened another door, ushering him in. Jungkook stepped in, taking a seat in the only chair. The walls were painted white. Almost everything in the room was the same white color.

“Any last wishes you crazed man?” A man also dressed in white asked.

Jungkook smiled, his bangs covering most of his face.

“I hope I’ll see her.”

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

You’re Mine, Pt. 3

Jensen x Reader x Danneel

Warnings: Porn with Barely-There Plot, slight Dom!Jensen, 18+ ONLY (Please adhere to this kiddies), hallway smut, threesome smut, female oral giving and receiving, mild language, poly relationship

A/N: PART ONE stemmed from a dream I had and with encouragement from friends turned it into a fic. First time I ever attempted something like this, so please be gentle with me. The second part was written as a request to continue the story.

Chapter Summary: Once their relationship is exposed, one of the trio decides to take a job far away without dealing with the fallout of the exposure. The timing of which is right before a new situation complicates the new family dynamic even more. 

WC: 7.9K

*Banner made by me. I do not own any of the images.

Tags are open for the series, SPN (Sam and/or Dean) and SPN RPF 

Late July in Texas brought on a bout of heat so oppressive, that stepping outside only happened when it was extremely necessary. Not even a swim in the pool or a day at the lake could take the sting out of the day’s sun that would beat down relentlessly. 

It had been a little more than two months since you officially had moved in with Jensen and Danneel and became a part of the Ackles’ family. Things were a little awkward at first, learning how and where you fit into their day to day lives, but after a couple of weeks the three of you, plus the kids found an easy-going rapport that eventually morphed into a new day to day routine. 

The kids never even questioned who you were or why you were living there. Jensen and Danneel had sat down with them and explained that you were now part of their family and they accepted it without a second thought. Spending time with them and getting to know them had been the highlight of the summer so far, and made you really think long and hard about what Jensen had suggested the night they asked you to move in. But with his schedule, and Danneel taking the kids on a whirlwind trip with her mom, the timing hadn’t been right. 

It had been three weeks since Jensen had left for Vancouver, and three days since Danneel left with the kids, and you found yourself rattling around the big old house alone. Keeping yourself busy during most days with work, the nights were starting to get a little lonely, and it simply cemented in your head and heart how much you really had come to love and miss all of them. You thought of calling or texting but also didn’t want to appear clingy or desperate for their attention.

Instead, after the sun went down, you threw on your bathing suit and ventured down to the pool for a nighttime swim to rid yourself of the excess energy built up from not having your new family around.

The moment you dove into the water and felt the crisp coolness flow over your body, you couldn’t help but smile. Surfacing, and brushing the hair back from your face, you closed your eyes and dipped your head back, letting your body rise and float around the pool. A noise off in the distance grabbed your attention, but you didn’t think much of it. Could be neighbors, or someone out on the lake. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked up to a clear night sky full of stars as you slowly waved your arms up and down to propel yourself around the pool. 

More noise, this time way closer, forced you from your floating position to standing up in the pool, then looking around trying to find the source. From up the hill towards the house, you heard music playing and the backdoor open then close. Curious as to who could be in the house, your heart started racing at the idea of one of the Ackles’ friends, namely Misha, having stopped by unannounced.

“That’s dumb,” you whispered to yourself, “he’s in Vancouver with Jensen… but who--”

“Hey there, gorgeous.” 

Jensen. You’d know that voice anywhere. 

You whirled around in the pool and saw him standing near the edge of the deep end. He was in a dark blue polo, with khaki shorts, and a baseball cap, and looking better than you’d ever seen him, despite having had to shave off his beard. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, unable to stop the wide smile that grew on your lips. “You’re not even supposed to be in the country, let alone the state of Texas.”

“We had a break for a couple of days, thought I would come home and surprise you guys,” he said, crouching by the pool’s edge. 

“Well, it's just me here. Danneel and the kids--”

“Yeah, she told me and then I realized once I was at the airport this was the week they were gone. They’re with grandma somewhere… Boston? I think?”

“That’s one of the stops. I think they were heading up to Maine, next. Going to take them on a cruise up to Nova Scotia, see some whales.”

“How come you didn’t go?” he asked, tilting his head, following your movement through the pool with soft, engaging eyes. 

“Work,” you shrugged and reached the edge to where he was knelt down. “Told Danneel I’d keep the house in order, make sure the kids’ fish and hamsters were fed.”

“You passed up whale watching in Nova Scotia to feed some hairy rats?”Jensen laughed and shook his head. “You’re too much.”

“Not just that, I do have work. Got three new clients this month.”

“You know you don’t have to work, right? We can support you--”

“Not this again,” you groaned and pushed off the side of the pool, lazily swimming backward away from him. “I want to work. I enjoy working, Jensen. I won’t have you guys supporting me.”

“That’s what families do for each other, Y/N.”

“You know what else families do?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Can’t imagine. What?”

You bit down on your lip and eyed him seductively. “They join their girlfriends in the pool for a late-night swim.”

Jensen stood up quickly from his crouched position. You laughed at his expression as he threw his hat to the ground before pulling his polo off, kicking off his shoes and removing his shorts, leaving him only in his boxers. He promptly dove into the pool with a big splash, and then swam underwater until he reached where you were, breaching the surface and immediately grabbing your waist.

His mouth crashed to yours hard, nearly knocking you back. Your arms went around his neck as you kissed him back with rolling tongues and hungry lips. The feeling of having him against you again was euphoric, and you realized then how desperately you had missed him. Jensen walked you back towards the edge of the pool, never taking his mouth off of yours. He growled lowly the deeper you kissed him, and when your back finally bumped against the side, you felt his hands slid up your back and pull the strings that held your bikini top on.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you saw the simple black top floating away from you in the pool. 

“Guess this is a skinny dip and not just a late-night swim, hm?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, moving his mouth down your neck, then lifting you out of the water just enough to take your nipple in his mouth. 

The sensation of the cool water and his tongue made you instantly wet and needy. You pawed at the boxers under the water, then at your own bathing suit bottom, of which Jensen helped free you from.

“Jesus…” he moaned as you grabbed his cock and began to stroke it beneath the water. 

Below the surface, Jensen’s hand went to your pussy to see how ready you were to take him. There was no waiting, no foreplay. He wanted you, and he wanted you now. You knew by the look in his eyes, one you had seen plenty of times since first meeting him. He was a man possessed--needy and hungry--and you were his sustenance. 

Standing in the shallow end of the pool, you felt him slip up inside you. The sound that fell from your lips, a composure of a soft moan followed by a sharp inhale of his name, made him smile; but not a sweet smile. Jensen leered at you, his tongue slowly trailing across his bottom lip as he watched you respond to the sensation with each roll of his hips. One hand dig firmly into your hip so he wouldn’t lose his grip on you, the other ran up your body, covering your breasts then went up to your neck. He pulled you close to him, as his fingers gently closed around your throat. 

“Miss me?” he growled in question, biting his lip, trying to control the speed he moved into you.

“Yesss,” you mewed as your eyes rolled back, along with your head as you lost yourself in him. 

The sounds of splashing water and crickets were all that could be heard in the backyard. Having to remain relatively quiet in the house was normal, but no one was home now. You wanted to cry out, screaming his name and all the things you wanted him to do to you. Jensen was always so intuned to you whenever you were having sex, he could tell what you wanted just by your expression when your eyes finally met. But to have the freedom to be vocal, that was a turn on all in itself. 

“Tell me,” he snarled, his nostrils flaring, as his lips pulled into a devilish grin. “Tell me what you want.” He slowed his hips to a snail’s pace, barely twitching inside you now until you told him what to do.

You licked your lips with satisfaction and leaned your mouth closer to his ear. “Mark me. Make me yours. I want your teeth on my neck, then I want you to make me squirm. No one can do that to me as you can,” you purred, then ran your tongue along the outside of his ear.

Jensen raised his brow in question, but quickly obliged your request, landing his teeth to the place just where your neck curved to your shoulder. The sensation of his mouth and tongue on your flesh caused the first ripple of release to explode warmly in your core. Something about the way he did that, the idea he was marking you as his, could make you cum in its own rite. Despite the way he was biting and sucking along your neck, hungry to make you happy, you were able to hold off from climax; for now. 

A moment later, he was lifting you out of the pool, moving your ass on the edge and pushing you backward. Jensen pushed your knees apart and buried his head between your thighs as his hands wrapped around your hips, pinning you down. His tongue split your folds and licked up to your clit, taking the pulsating nub in his mouth and sucking hard. He lavished you roughly with his mouth and when his fingers found your entrance, thrusting up into you, screamed his name. 

“Fuucck, Jensen! Shit…!!” Panting, short hot breaths, your hands went to his head, gripping his wet hair on each side and holding on for dear life. “Fuck… Jen--I’m gonna cum… pleeasseee… baby, let me cum…”

You could feel his lips snarl into a smile against your clit before he slowly lifted his head to meet your eyes. “Whatever you want.” He used his fingers to fuck you harder, then brought his tongue back through your folds. “Fuck you taste good,” he growled and drank you in. 

With one more thrust up into you, you could feel your release coating his hands and mouth, but he refused to back away. Your whole body was humming with intensity, every nerve ending on fire from the release he just brought you to. But Jensen didn’t stop, and with each passing second he continued to lick and suck on your most sensitive place, the more you began to squirm beneath him. 

“Jesus... Ok! Ok! I give... You got me squirming!” you cried out with a giggle, letting go of his head and bringing your hands to your own mouth, biting down on your fingers as he continued on. “Jensen… please… I can’t--”

He lifted his head for a second. “You can, and you will. I’m not done.” The tenor and command in his voice caused your head to roll back, and your body to relax again. You loved that most of all. Being his, meant doing what he said; taking your licks like a good girl, and never wanting to disappoint him. 

“But,” he continued, picking up his head, and taking your hands, pulling you up to sitting, “you’re cold and I’m starving.” He pulled you back into the pool and wrapped his arms around the small of your back. His hands cupped your ass then lifted you up, so you could wrap your legs around his waist. 

“But you just ate,” you teased coyly, and Jensen rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah well, that was an appetizer. Now I need real food. Then, later… once we get home I plan on taking you upstairs and finding all-new, better ways to make you squirm.” He raised one eyebrow, a gesture that could mean a number of things, but right then it was simply looking for your compliance. “Understand?” he asked with his eyes narrowed on you and dark with lust.

“Yes, Jensen,” you said softly, then ghosted his lips with yours. “But do you really wanna wait until later? I mean…” you reached down and slowly began to stroke him. “Doesn’t seem fair to make you wait.”

Jensen laughed and shook his head. “You’re a damn junkie.”

You shrugged one shoulder. “And who’s fault is that?”

His entire expression changed. In one quick movement, he had you back against the pool’s wall, his dick finding your entrance and thrusting up into you. Jensen buried his face between your breasts, grunting and cursing as he fucked into you again, and again. Picking up the pace with each thrust upwards, the friction again your overstimulated clit, still very much throbbing from his earlier tongue lashing, brought you to a second orgasm just as he spilled his release inside of you. 

“God DAMN,” he grunted, lifting his face from your cleavage, “What the fuck is it that you do to me?” His bottom lip hung agape, as he pushed a lock of wet hair behind your ear. He pulled your mouth to his and kissed you fiercely. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered between his kisses. 

When he finally pulled back, the earlier lustful need was replaced by something softer. “Well, whatever it is, I’m glad it’s mine.”

“Always…” you paused to smile, and just take in how he was looking at you under the light of the moon that hung low in the Texas sky. “Now, you said something about when we get home… where are we going?”

“Oh, that. Well when I landed, I called and made some dinner plans for us.”

“You wanna go out? I can cook something for you here,” you said, slightly nervous at the prospect of going out just the two of you. 

“No,” he replied, a soft smile finding its way to his lips. “I want to take you out. I want to show you off to the world--”

“Jensen…” 

“What?”

“Come on, that’s--that’s not a great idea. You have to know that,” you stammered, shaking your head in the disbelief he would even suggest it.

“You’ve lived here for two months, Y/N. This is our life. Sometimes it’s Danneel and I that will be going out and sometimes it’s all of us. Hell, you and her have your nights out. Why can’t we?”

“That’s different. People see us out together and just assume we’re close friends.”

“I couldn’t care less about what people think we are. I want to take my girlfriend out. So, let’s get out of the pool, dry off, get dressed and go eat.” The last word came out sharply, something Jensen did unknowingly when he was trying to make a point. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, returning the warm embrace he pulled you into and trying not to internally shudder at the thought of what could happen. 

An hour later, you were dressed in a simple yellow sundress that hung to mid-thigh, with thin straps, and a deep neckline, white wedge sandals and your hair pinned up off your neck. After one last check in the mirror, you headed down to the kitchen where you found Jensen waiting. He had changed into light blue jeans and a dark green cotton polo, his brown boots, and an FBBC baseball cap. The sight of him always sort of knocked you over and made you reflect on how gorgeous of a man he was, but that night he looked particularly good and you were mildly excited about going out now.

“Well damn,” he whistled when you walked into the room. “Maybe we’ll stay in after all.” You could feel his eyes lustfully wash over you. 

“Now who’s the junkie?” you teased and dropped your purse on the counter as you pulled out your cell. “I need a picture though, I promised Dee I would send her one. She misses you.”

“Well the feeling is mutual,” he smiled and came up from behind you as you raised the camera to take a picture of you together. 

After snapping a few pictures, you selected your favorite and texted it to Danneel. 

<<Wish you were here, beautiful. This man and I miss you something fierce.

“Hey, add me to that...” he pouted as he watched you craft the text over your shoulder. “I want the picture, too.”

You rested your head back on his shoulder and laughed. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Why do you find it so hard to believe that I want to have pictures of you? Or be seen in public with you? I thought we were passed all this.”

“We are… I just--” you shrugged, and went back to sending the text to Danneel, and to him. “Never mind. Come on, let’s go eat.”

“No, no,” he said, grabbing your wrist as you started walking away. “Not until I’m sure you get it. Tonight, you’re with me. We’re not going out as friends, and if people talk, fuck ‘em. I got nothing to hide.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.”

“Good. Now, let’s eat. Got myself an appetite after that evening swim,” he winked and folded your hand into his.

 The Culinary Dropout restaurant in Austin had a table waiting for you and brought you promptly back to it upon arriving. Jensen pulled out the chair for you, then took the seat across from you and took off his cap, setting it aside. 

“Ever been here before?” he asked, picking up a menu and looking at the beer list. 

“No, not yet. Danneel and I tried a place last week that was great, but I can’t for the life of me remember the name.”

“Couldn’t have been that good then,” he chuckled.

“Well, she was being very distracting,” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, she has a habit of doing that, doesn’t she?”

“Boy, does she.”

You noticed Jensen lower his menu, and you did the same to meet his gaze. “So, this is all working, isn’t it?”

You snorted a laugh. “Our little modern-day family experiment?”

“That’s one way to say it, yeah. I mean, two months in and things are okay--better than okay. At least I think so.”

“I have no complaints,” you said softly, casting your eyes back down to your menu.

Jensen went to say something, but the phone buzzing from his pocket stopped him. He fished it out and looked at the notification, a wide smile across his face before turning the phone and showing it to you.

Two texts from Danneel: 

>>Kiddos and I miss you! [Attached a picture of Danneel and all three kids on the cruise ship]

>>Enjoy your time at home with Y/N, baby. You two need some quality alone time. Love you! xo

“I guess things really are good, huh?” he said tucking the phone away. 

“Too good,” you mumbled, half kidding, half nervous that you were just tempting fate. 

A few minutes later, the waitress arrived at your table, introduced herself with a polite smile and immediately admitted to knowing who Jensen was; big fan, and all that. Once she got the gushing over with, he happily signed a blank ticket for her, and she proceeded to take your orders. She left to put it in with the kitchen and that’s when Jensen reached across the table and took your hand. 

“You alright?” he asked, lightly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “You look nervous.”

“I don’t want to be. But I guess I am a little. This is new for me, Jensen. Being so open about being with you. It’s been such a closely guarded secret for me, I think I just need to get used to it.”

“I know. That’s part of why I was insisted on coming out. It’s important to me that you be more a part of things.”

“What, things?”

“Everything. You’re already part of the home with Dee and the kids. I want you to be with me more. Come with me when I travel sometimes. Visit Vancouver, get to know my friends there.”

“You--really?” you breathed, knowing you shouldn’t be surprised, but still felt blindsided about being so exposed to his world. “Aren’t you scared of backlash? What we have here isn’t exactly conventional. I know you both say, fuck it, but, come on… no need to throw it everyone’s face.”

“That’s not why I want you with me, Y/N. I want you with me because I love you and I still feel like there’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“Hence Dee’s comment about quality alone time?” you teased. 

Jensen considered that for a moment and shrugged with his expression. “Yeah, pretty much. So, if you’re done being all skeptical, can you please relax and enjoy this?”

“Yes, Jensen,” you replied sweetly and squeezed his hand. You were on the verge of asking him some innocuous get-to-know-you kind of question when fate took its queue and walked over in the form of a fan.

“Um, excuse me, Jensen! Hi! I’m so, so sorry to interrupt your guy’s dinner, but I am a huge fan, and I was wondering if I could take a quick picture with you!?”

Jensen smiled up at her, and you slowly retracted your hand from him, but not before his fan noticed and then looked at you. You watched as the realization dawned on her face that you were not, in fact, Danneel. The woman’s expression went through several stages of understanding before she turned back to Jensen, with an awkward smile. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude…” 

“You’re not, darlin’, I’m happy to take a picture. Got your camera?”

She pulled it from her back pocket and opened the camera app, but you could feel the side-eyed glances she was throwing your way. 

“Want me to take it for you?” you offered.

“S-Sure, thanks,” she replied hesitantly and handed you the phone. 

You took a few pictures, making sure she ended up with a few good ones. She thanked him again, threw you one more suspicious glance and quickly walked away as if she had just stolen something and needed a quick getaway.

When she was gone, the waitress came back with your drinks and the appetizer Jensen ordered. Alone again, you looked to him as he sipped on his pint of beer. When he saw the bewilderment on your face, he chuckled.

“Something wrong?”

“Did you notice how she looked at me?”

He shook his head. “No, how?”

“Suspiciously. The second she realized I wasn’t Danneel, her whole demeanor changed. You seriously didn’t notice?”

“No,” he said. “I didn’t. Because--”

“I know, you don’t care. You and Dee have made that abundantly clear,” you laughed and sipped at your glass of wine. “I just don’t want to see anything you’ve worked so hard to create, fall apart because of a lifestyle choice you made.”

“If a lifestyle choice brings down my career, I didn’t have a very solid one, to begin with.”

You gave him a ‘really’ look and rolled your eyes. “Fine. I will lay off and just enjoy the night out. I am pretty hungry and that looks amazing…” you said, pointing at the plate in front of you. 

 Once the meals were finished, Jensen escorted you from the restaurant and as you casually strolled down the sidewalk hand in hand, you could feel that passersby were watching you. Jensen must have felt it too, because he picked up the pace a little and ushered you towards the car, opening your door for you, allowing you to quickly slipped inside. 

Just as he joined you and started the engine, the small group of photographers that had been behind you, pointed their cameras at the car and began clicking away.

“You were saying?” you mumbled then passed him a look of ‘I told you so’.

“So they took pictures, so what? Here, I’ll give ‘em something to focus on,” he smirked, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in, kissing you with a heated purpose. Immediately parting your lips with his tongue and caressing your cheek with his hand. When he finally pulled back, you were light-headed and swimming in the feeling of the wine and his lips. 

“Can we go home now, please?” you pleaded softly, placing your hand on his knee and sliding it up to his thigh. “It’s so much nicer there. Quiet, private… no need for clothes…”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Jensen shrugged, put the car in gear and sped off past the small hoard and off towards home.

  By the time coffee was ready the next morning, the pictures were already circulating online. It didn’t take more than a few hours for them to make the tabloid rounds, hitting TMZ and other similar sites by sunrise the following day. The captions varied from ‘SUPERNATURAL’ Star Jensen Ackles Caught Cheating! To Jensen Ackles Caught With an Escort! Some were worse than others, but all of them together felt overwhelming and caused a deep worry about how life would be from that point on.

“We need to warn Danneel,” you said as Jensen passed you a cup of coffee with a rather dismissive gaze making you question what he was thinking. “What? You don’t think she deserves to know? On a trip with the kids… anyone could approach her, and say--”

“She knows,” he said calmly, as he sipped at his own mug. “I called her last night after you fell asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Is she alright? I mean… some of those articles were brutal. Hell, are you okay?”

Jensen placed down his mug and gently took your cheeks between his hands. “I’m fine, Y/N. Dee is fine. Let them say whatever they want, okay?” He left his fingers to glide from your cheeks, down your neck on either side and out to your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I promise we’ll handle it. For now, though, let’s just enjoy a few days of alone time before everyone’s home then I have to leave. Can you do that with me?”

You felt your nerves calm a little and nodded. “Yes, Jensen. I can do that for you.”

“Good girl,” he hummed, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. “I got an idea. Why don’t we have a lazy day in? We’ll make a bunch of food, watch a whole lot of movies. Just stay in and lay low. Sound good?”

“Music to my ears,” you said, a wide smile of relief accompanying your reply. “As long as I stay in my pajamas all day.”

“I’d prefer if you were in nothing, but that’ll do,” he said and nodded towards your current choice of a tank top and boy shorts. 

“Do you ever not think about sex?”

“Who said anything about sex? I’m not allowed to appreciate something this beautiful when I see it?” he asked, allowing his eyes to slowly linger along the curves of your body, as his tongue absently darted out over his bottom lip. 

You shook your head, climbed off the kitchen stool and picked up your mug as you strolled towards the family room. “Come on, I have a few ideas of what we can watch. Then maybe you’ll get me how you want me in the end.”

For the rest of the day, neither you nor Jensen picked up your phones solely in an effort to avoid the never-ending stream of notifications. By the time evening rolled around, you had gone through two of the movies from the Conjuring Universe, one old western, and half of Pulp Fiction before you and Jensen had fallen asleep on the couch. 

Over the next two days, you enjoyed the quiet time you had with him and having the entire house to yourselves while you did. By the end of the week, the rest of the family returned home from a leisurely vacation through New England and Eastern Canada. The kids went on and on about their adventures while you and Jensen listened as they talked over each other excitedly. They exhausted themselves just from the recap and all easily went off to bed. You offered to get them all ready and tucked in, so Jensen and Danneel could have some time to themselves to reconnect with each other after an extended absence. 

A few hours later, you were seated out on the porch, with a book open on your lap as you sipped on a glass of wine. The air was surprisingly cold despite the consistent, overwhelming heat during the days. That night there was a breeze coming in off the water that was strong enough to delicately lift a few strands of hair every now and again, as you read half-heartedly, not really seeing the words on the page.

The sound of someone stepping into the room brought your attention away from the book. Jensen was in his boxer briefs and black V-neck t-shirt, his hair soft and wildly unkempt. He wore a half-smile, but his eyes were tired and something in his expression looked as if he was deeply contemplative. He found his way to the lounge where you were sitting and took the book from your hand. Gently, Jensen placed it on the floor without a word, he laid down beside you and placed his head in your lap. 

You wanted to ask him what was wrong, but Jensen had never been the type to shy away from a conversation, or need to be begged to talk. He was quiet for a reason, and you wanted to be the soft place he could fall when he needed time to reflect on whatever was mulling around in his head. Slowly, you raked your fingers through his hair, lightly dragging your nails down his neck towards his shoulder, then back up through. He closed his eyes and hummed lightly with each pass along his neck. He turned his head around to look up, his half-smile growing into a genuine, thoughtful one. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he rasped, then turned his head back and wrapped an arm around your legs. You thought you felt him tighten his grip, ever so slightly, but a moment later when Danneel came into the room, he let go completely and sat up.

“Hey,” she smiled, and walked to the lounge, bending to kiss your cheek softly. “How’s the book?” she asked and motioned towards the book on the floor. “Enjoying it?”

“Yeah, it’s great. I’m nearly done.”

“The end is just so, so good. You have to let me know when you finish.” She was making small talk, and though you were just going with the flow, it felt forced and awkward. Coupled with how Jensen came into the room, you had a feeling that things were about to drastically change.

“Ok, so what’s going on with you two? You’re both being weird.”

You watched as they exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Jensen’s brow furrowed slightly when his silent question went unanswered by her and cast his eyes to the ground as he leaned back on the small lounge, resting his arm along the back.

“We’re fine, honey. Promise. Just… I have news. I should have told you two, together, but I told Jensen first. I’m sorry, I hope you’re not upset.”

“No, why would I be? He’s your husband, of course, he should know things first.”

“He’s ours,” she said and winked, but let her expression fall when she saw how unamused Jensen was. “Ok, good. I’m glad you’re so understanding… it makes the next part a bit easier.”

“Well now you’re scaring me a little,” you chuckled nervously, and drew your knees up under your butt, and leaned back. You felt Jensen’s fingertips brush against your shoulder and felt comforted by his touch.

“Sorry, it’s nothing bad. It’s actually pretty amazing news. I got offered a part in a feature film!”

“What?! That’s awesome! I’m so happy for you!” you replied excitedly, a wave of relief washing over you. Of all the things you thought she could possibly say, landing a role in a film was the furthest from your mind. “What’s the movie? Where do you have to go? When?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all this. I’m going to bed,” Jensen said abruptly and stood up. “You ladies talk, I need some shut-eye.” He turned and left then. No kiss goodnight, not even a glance in either of your directions. With the way he left, you were fairly certain he wouldn’t be sharing the big bed tonight; chances were better, that later you’d find him curled up in the guest room.

Once he had disappeared back inside, Danneel took over his seat, slumping down with a sigh. “He’s mad at me for leaving.” She was matter-of-fact about it, which was not her usual reaction to any sort of disagreement with Jensen. They were by no means a perfect couple, and in all the time you’d known them, they’ve had their fair share of arguments. This felt… different. 

Shit, not again… you thought and tried to steel yourself for what else was to come.

“What’s the big deal? You’ve gone off to work since the kids have been born.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what? Where do you have to go?”

“Greece. For three months,” she replied, the excitement in her voice bleeding through in the simple response.

“That’s incredible! So, what’s the problem? That you’re half a world away for three months?”

“Partially,” she breathed and shrugged. “I couldn’t get much more out of him. He’s pissed and he’ll talk to me about it eventually I suppose.”

“But, why?” There was something she was holding back, you knew her well enough that you could feel it radiating off of her.

“Maybe because it's like you said… three months in Greece, I can’t take the kids, he hates the director--”

“What? Come on...” you laughed, dismissing her fears with a wave of your hand. “Jensen doesn’t hate anyone.”

“Oh, he hates Maurice. Mostly because I used to sleep with him, and he’s way older.”

“Seriously? Come on, Dee. Jensen doesn’t care about some guy you slept with a million years ago.”

She seemed reflective for a moment, her honey-brown eyes lost somewhere in memory. When she came back to the present, a cool, steely gaze was living in the lines of her expression.

“How was he while we were gone?”

“Other than missing everyone, he seemed fine. Why?”

“No reason,” she scoffed, but then raised and dropped her brows quickly in annoyance. 

You also noticed the slight roll of her eyes, which bothered you as well. For the first time since being with them and witnessing a disturbance in the usual domestic bliss, you felt yourself take sides… and it wasn’t hers.

“Who knows with him, really. He’s been different with me lately. Maybe it’s just work or the stress of the last season. I don’t know,” she said and leaned her head on your shoulder and hooked her arm through yours. “Nothing we’ll figure out tonight though. I’m beat. Can we talk about the details of the job in the morning? I’m really going to need your help if I’m going to make this job work.”

“Sure, whatever you want,” you replied, though really, you wanted to throw a million questions at her, including how she felt about the exposure of their unique family dynamic. Instead, you stayed quiet for the time being and rolled with the punches.

“You’re the best, you know that?” Danneel leaned in and kissed your cheek. Keeping her hand on yours, she stood from the lounge and tried to pull you up with her. “I am absolutely exhausted and am ready to go crash. Care to join me?” 

“Yeah, but you go ahead. I’ll be along in a minute,” you replied with a sweet smile that faded quickly once she was out of sight. Feeling like there was another shift coming, you took a moment to take a few deep breaths, retrieve the book off the floor and slowly stand from the lounge. There was something off in both her and Jensen and your mind began to go crazy wondering what was said between them. 

Later, when she was softly snoring, you were still awake, laying on your back and staring at the ceiling. The bed felt empty without Jensen in it, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how Danneel reacted when you said Jensen had been fine while she was gone. There was always that nagging concern in the back of your mind that this family you had joined would somehow crumble before it even began. It was just fear talking, something you knew, but still had a hard time letting go of. 

There was so much to discuss with both of them--both Danneel’s new job and the fallout from the reporters capturing you and Jensen together at the restaurant and subsequent rumors after--but at that moment, you couldn’t care less about any of it. Your thoughts were firmly on Jensen.

You got up from the bed, threw on your light cotton robe, and tip-toed through the house, systematically checking on the kids fast asleep in their beds as you went. Upon reaching the guest room door, you thought you could hear the ambient lull of the television; the glow under the door confirming your suspicion. Quietly, you opened the door and expected to find him passed out, remote in hand. To your surprise, Jensen was sitting up, watching golf with heavy lids and fighting to stay awake.

“Hey,” he mumbled, sitting up a little straighter as you came into the room. “You alright?”

“I’m fine. I came to check on you.”

A contented little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he flipped the covers back and patted the place beside him on the bed. You crawled in and curled up into him as he covered you back up and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You snaked your arm around his chest and buried your face into his side, drawing in a long, deep breath of his scent. 

“I’m alright,” he said, but you were sure he was lying. “Just a long day.”

“That’s why you're here, and not in our bed, right?”

He didn’t speak, and you didn’t have to look up to know he was giving you a certain kind of look. 

“Thought you and Dee could use the time to talk, that’s all.”

“About her new job?”

“Among other things,” he replied, then pointed the remote at the television and turned off the tournament. 

“You didn’t have to shut it off.”

“I’d rather look at you then middle-aged men in ugly pants.”

You chuckled and slowly lifted the hem of his shirt, to leave a warm, longing kiss on his skin. “Can’t say that I hate that…” you purred, continuing to trail kisses down his abdomen, towards the top of his boxers. 

“Baby…” Jensen breathed and was clearly fighting the urge to forcibly move your head towards his rapidly growing erection. “You don’t have too…”

“Shhh. Close your eyes,” you whispered, slipping your fingers delicately between the waistband and his flesh. “Let me take care of you, Jensen. Let me help you sleep.”

Jensen didn’t say another word. Instead, he laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful to lift up your gaze, as the loose strands feel to frame your face and cast the impish smile you wore into the shadows. His intense, yet tired eyes bore into you, making you crave him even more. You held his stare but continued to work his boxers down far enough, for his dick to be free of restraint.

Trying to move your head to take him in, he held you up for a brief moment, then slowly released his grip. He watched you as you pressed your lips to the silky tip, already slick with anticipation, and then ran your tongue down his shaft. Having him watch you as you licked, sucked and worked his cock over was an instant turn on. Knowing you had that kind of power over him--despite him being in charge when it came to acts such as this--made you wet and needy. The worst part was, Jensen knew it. 

Just before he was ready to cum, he pulled your head up and without saying a word, told you what he wanted from you. Sitting up, you untied the robe and tossed it aside; leaving yourself completely nude and ready for whatever he wanted. He pushed off the boxers the rest of the way but leaned back against the headboard and watched as you climbed onto his lap. He barely needed to touch you, much less run his hand up your slit, to feel how badly you wanted him. Positioning yourself over him, you were going to let him slide up and fill you slowly in an attempt to make him squirm. 

“Why do I fall apart the very second you touch me,” you breathed, already drunk on the idea of feeling him inside you. 

“Because, you like how I put you back together again,” he rasped in reply, his desire for you showing in his dark and lustful green eyes.

Jensen, being the impatient man he was, grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him. Biting back the scream that wanted to erupt, you gripped his shoulders as his head bent into your breasts to muffle his own sounds. He didn’t last long, nor did you. Heavy breaths and needy whispers were exchanged closely, intimately until both of your bodies were shaking with pleasure. When it was finished, you laid down beside him and curled up into the crook of his shoulder. He murmured something unintelligible as his eyes flutter closed and you watched the man you loved finally fall asleep.

The talk Jensen wanted you to have with Danneel never did happen; nor did she ever bring up the incident with the reporters or articles. Instead, over coffee the following morning you talked with her about how things would be while she was gone; wanting to be sure you were okay with it all but never really diving into anything deeper. Jensen and Danneel never seemed to completely reconcile from whatever was spoken between them the night before, and when Jensen left for Vancouver again later that evening, their goodbye was strained and awkward. Despite how they left things, the three of you carried on for the next few weeks as if nothing had changed, when clearly so much already had.

Since the articles started to pop up, speculating about who you were and why Jensen was with you that night, you had lost the three new clients signed up in July. Your clientele continued to dwindle until there were only two regular clients left; one for personal training, and one for massage. Any time you tried to approach the topic with Danneel, she would wave you off, acting as if it was no big deal. She would mumble something about it all blowing over, but the idea began to weigh on you that SHE was the one waiting for it all to blow over so she could pretend it never happened. 

The day finally came for Danneel to leave, and everyone was quiet and rather sulky through her last day at the house. There was no big send-off, no big goodbye; which was just what she wanted. She said goodnight to the children on a Monday evening and was quietly gone by the time the sun rose on Tuesday. Jensen was home for the day after she left wanting to be there for the kids in case they started to miss their mom. His presence was enough to divert their attention away from her leaving, and onto more fun things until they were tucked in and sleeping. 

The real chaos of the household change didn’t come for another week. With both parents gone, the kids pushed their boundaries, and if not for the help of their nanny, Rita, you may have lost your mind. They missed their mom, missed their dad, and while they loved you, it just wasn’t the same. Fatigue was setting in along with the frustration of the day to day schedule for both them and the house, and you didn’t understand how Danneel did it all on a regular basis. 

It was a Friday, and Jensen thought he may be home the next day, depending on the filming schedule. Wanting to be sure to have some of his favorite things in the house, you left the children with Rita and headed out to Target with a list and a solid plan to get everything you wanted to get. By the time you drove the ten minutes across town and parked the car, you felt physically drained and slightly nauseous. Chalking it up to the relentless heat, you made your way through the store, gathering everything you wanted for both Jensen and the children, and maybe a few intimate items for yourself. You had missed him terribly and thought maybe some treats for the bedroom would make him happy upon his return the next day. 

As you were walking through the aisles, the slight bit of nausea bowled you over causing you to ditch the cart and run for the nearest bathroom. Once there, the remnants of lunch came up quickly, leaving you on the bathroom floor and reeling from the sudden burst of sickness. As you got up, flushed and made your way to the sinks, you tried to think what it could have been that sent you running for the bathroom. Lunch was a simple salad with grilled chicken, the breakfast was also very light and everyone seemed fine from it. 

You retrieved your cart and started making your way towards the cashiers, still trying to understand where the sudden burst of nausea came from. None of the kids had been sick, it couldn’t have been the food, maybe it was the heat… Then it hit you; the thought made you stop cold in the middle of the main walkway of the Target. You turned around and walked back a few paces, leaving the cart where it was, you turned and started looking through the aisles by the pharmacy. There, under the pharmacy’s window hung the pregnancy tests. 

Swallowing thickly, you picked up the first one you saw and the moment your fingers touched the box, you knew… Though he hadn’t been around too much in the last month, there was that night in the pool when he had surprised you by coming home early… and several more times over those few days where it was a free for all and no thought was given to any sort of protection. The wave of nausea struck again, but this time it was from the absolute certainty, that if you were to take that test you held in your hand, there would be two lines in the window, not just one.

You’re Mine Tags: @billionsofpeoplebutyoupickedme @pandaxo79 @deans-baby-momma @daskleinevolk @muchamusedaboutnothing @sandlee44 @sorenmarie87 @keymology @his-paradox @winchesterxfamilybusiness @karikatz12481 @81mysteriouslyme @lessons-of-red @destielhoneybee @tftumblin @stoneyggirl @innerpaperexpertcloud @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @squirrel-moose-winchester @fictionalabyss @deanwinchesterswitch @jbbarnesgirl @the-is13 @ladywinchester1967 @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare @maddiepants @pretty-fortune @breereadsthings @sasbb23

SPN RPF: @closetspngirl @screechingartisancashbailiff @hobby27 @whiskeyandapplepie @teaspoin  @kazosa @wings-of-a-raven @adoptdontshoppets @negans-wife @katehuntington

[lullabieswrappedinlies]

Boston Boys [Part Ten]

Summary: Amidst another bank robbery, Chris and Elsa make plans to get away; John makes a confession to Aurelie.   Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1938 Chapter Warnings: Memories of bank robbery and hostage situation, angst, trauma. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)

Boston Boys Masterlist

Just as Elsa was beginning to think summer might never come to Boston, her semester ended and all she had to do was work at the bank. She had been seeing Chris for a couple of months now. The memory of the bank robbery was growing more and more distant. All in all, life wasn’t so bad.

She was laying in the bed in Chris’s new apartment -- one he had secured only a few weeks ago. Elsa had helped him pick out the furnishings and decor; she loved playing house with Chris.

Who was she kidding at this point? The thing she loved the most was being with Chris. She loved Chris. She was in love with Chris.

He came back to the bed with a pint of ice cream and two spoons. Elsa grinned and pulled the sheet up under her arms before accepting one of the spoons from him. Chris set the lid on the nightstand, then sidled up next to Elsa. They dug into the ice cream together. Chris hit the clicker to turn on the TV, and the sounds of the evening news filled the bedroom.

“What are you gonna do with your summer, beautiful?”

Elsa shrugged. “You mean besides spending time with you? Work the bank. Visit home, I guess. Nothing exciting.”

“Let’s take a vacation.” He swallowed a spoonful of ice cream. “Seb’s back up to par, he can cover for me at the shop for a while. We could stop and visit your family, then go up to Maine for a little coastal getaway.”

“You want to meet my family?” Elsa asked. That wasn’t at all what she was expecting.

“I wanna meet your family,” Chris confirmed, taking the spoon from her and setting it to the side with his spoon and the ice cream. “Is that too serious?”

Elsa shook her head. “No. I think I’m pretty serious about you. I know I am, actually. You came into my life at a really horrible time --”

“... made away with over a hundred thousand dollars. The robbers were described as three men and one woman by their voices, though they were wearing masks, hoodies, and gloves, so no other identifying factors were noted. Investigators believe that this may be the same group who robbed Boston Private and took a hostage several months ago.”

That horrible time Elsa had been ready to reference and forget about was suddenly the only thing she could think about. She flashed back to the other teller giving her up as the one with the code for the safe that day, to being yelled at and hit and taken away into that van. Her breath came in short gasps and she reached for Chris’s hand.

“Hey, hey -- breathe, Elsa. Breathe. C’mon.”

Chris encouraged her over and over to breathe, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t get past the hyperventilating and the sobbing. Chris pulled her into his lap, stroking her hair and waiting the reaction out. When she finally began to calm, he clicked the mute button, then wiped away the tear stains from her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Els,” he apologized, “I should have been paying more attention to what was on the news.”

“It’s not your fault,” Elsa assured.

Chris smoothed her hair away from her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just -- they’re still out there, Chris. They still know where I live and they still are doing this to other people. What if the police want to ask me more questions with this new investigation? I want to put it all behind me. I thought I had. I finished the semester with good grades, despite everything. I found you, and things are going so well. Now all of this is slammed back in my face.”

The tears began again. Chris leaned her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go away, all right? We’ll go visit your family, we’ll get away to Maine. I’ll plan everything.”

Elsa nodded against his chest. Sniffling back the tears, she tipped her head up to Chris. When he kissed her softly, Elsa pulled the kiss into more passionate depths. Whatever she could to replace the pain with pleasure.

In a different part of Boston, Aurelie was getting home from a long hospital shift. Though no serious cases had come though, a summer virus had filled the rooms non-stop, it seemed. She had stayed a few extra hours to deal with the overflow before coming home.

She dropped her bag at the front door, then set her cochlear implant on the table by the door, as she usually did, and kicked her shoes off. Her phone buzzed in her pocket; as much as she wanted to ignore it, the possibility of being called back to the hospital when she was needed kept her from letting the call go to voicemail.

I’m at your front door. I would knock, but I know you probably wouldn’t hear me right now.

John’s text message was enough to pull a smile to her face. Aurelie tossed her phone to the side, then opened her front door and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him almost before he was ready. He smiled against her mouth and wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her off the ground and carrying her into the apartment before shutting the door behind him.

When John set her down, Aurelie reached for her implant, but he put a hand over hers. She frowned and asked him what was up.

“I want to tell you something.” He said the words while also fumbling through signing what he was trying to say. With a deep breath, he continued. “I’ve been learning a little so I can tell you an important thing in a way that’s important to you. I love you, Aurelie.”

He even remembered her name sign. With tears in her eyes, Aurelie nodded. She had known when they accepted each other, despite the family backgrounds, that love would come -- and she had waited with great anticipation for this day. She never could have imagined, though, that John would have made the moment so special. So, without speaking, Aurelie signed her reply.

“I love you, too.”

Chris hadn’t dragged his feet on planning their vacation, and by mid-June, Elsa was preparing to head to New York for a few days alone with her family before Chris followed after finishing his week at the barber shop.

They had said their goodbyes at her apartment that morning before Chris went to work, but Elsa had a surprise for him for his birthday, coming up in a couple of days. He wouldn’t arrive in New York until the day after his birthday, but she couldn’t wait. She stopped at the jeweler to pick up the gift, then made time to stop at the shop before she took a cab to Logan.

The bell over the door rang when she entered the shop, and six faces turned to look at Elsa. She spotted Chris immediately and, after giving everyone else a shy little wave, made way over to his chair.

“Hey,” she greeted, kissing his cheek, “I was hoping to catch you between clients.”

Chris kissed her quickly, then took her by the elbow and turned her to the rest of the shop crew. He made quick introductions, then hurried her out of the shop to the front sidewalk.

“This was a good surprise,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her again.

Elsa chuckled. “I’ve never seen you this nervous.”

“Well, ya know, I’ve told them I’m seeing someone, but it’s been a long time since I’ve introduced someone to my family. I was caught off guard is all.”

“That makes sense. I’m sorry to put you in a bad position.”

“No, no,” Chris assured, shaking his head adamantly, holding her hands up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “I was nervous, is all. In a good way. I’m glad you were the one to break the cycle.”

Elsa grinned and pulled the small box from her bag and gave it to him. “I had a good reason for stopping by, promise. I know it’s not your birthday yet, but I was too excited to wait to give you your gift. Happy birthday, Chris.”

He ran his hand over the smooth lid of the box, then leaned down to kiss her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Open it!”

Chris grinned too and tucked the lid underneath the box. He raised his brow at the all-black watch set inside. Elsa took it out for him and turned the watch so he could see behind the watch face.

“‘Trust the timing’,” he read out loud. He smiled to himself; a fitting statement for them. “This is perfect, Elsa. It’s amazing. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know that, but I saved up. I wanted to do this for you.”

Chris cupped her face and kissed her again, softly. “Will you take this with you to New York? I want to take you out when I get there, and I don’t want to chance forgetting this, so I can wear it.”

Elsa nodded and helped him put the watch back in the box before putting it back in her bag. They shared a couple more kisses, then Chris hailed her a cab to take her to the airport. Elsa smiled to herself as the yellow car drove away; she couldn’t wait to be home with Chris and her family.

Chris stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes after Elsa left, smoking a cigarette and preparing himself for the reaction of the crew. He had lit a second cigarette, in an effort to delay the inevitable, when the bell over the shop door rang again.

“Got a light?”

He dug the lighter from his pocket and leaned over to light Scarlett’s cigarette. Things were quiet for about a minute, and then she spoke.

“The rest of them didn’t recognize her, and I’m not going to say anything. They all like her -- what they got from the thirty seconds before you rushed her out.” Scarlett took a long drag from her cigarette. “I like her, too. I can see you do, and you should see how she lights up when she looks at you.”

Chris sighed, scratching at a spot above his eye with his thumb. “Scar …”

“What are you doing, Chris? What’s gonna happen when she finds out you were part of the team that traumatized her and changed her life forever? We scarred her, do you get that? And now you’re fucking her and she’s falling in love with you.”

“I’m not fucking her,” Chris rebutted. “I’m serious about her. Is that why you’re so pissed? Is it really about the robbery?”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Whatever feelings I thought I had left for you, Chris, were gone when you went MIA when Seb needed you. Who the fuck does that?” She shook her head and threw the butt of her cigarette in a puddle nearby. “It doesn’t matter, it’s passed. Seb’s forgiven you, so I guess I should, too. Just know that I’ve moved on from all of that. The problem now is what’s gonna happen when she finds out who you really are.”

Scarlett went back into the shop. Chris shoved his hands in his pockets; Scar wasn’t wrong. He had fucked up, in more ways than one. Then and there, he decided that before they came back to Boston from Maine, he would tell Elsa the truth.

Tags: @themtbmbgirl​​ @keithseabrook27​​​ @ulovemelightsout​​​ @rosie2801​​​ @professorkrasinski​​​

[raywritesthings]

Sheriff, Hood and Maid

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Quentin Lance, Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, John Diggle Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (Hinted/Unresolved) Summary: Long before the Hood arrives in Starling City, Detective Lance relaxes his loyalty to the law. His daughter must take on a double life of her own to redeem her family legacy. / AU What-If of Season 1 *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

It had been a moment of weakness. After losing Sara, seeing the bodies of all those young girls pile up one after the other, with stiff limbs and sightless eyes, it was too much. He’d have done anything to make it stop, to catch Mathis.

Anything, as it turned out, had meant selling his soul.

He’d received a call tipping him off to a location Mathis was supposedly using to conduct his sick experiments. When he’d arrived, there was no Mathis and no equipment. Just a mid-ranking member of one of the local cartels.

Quentin had been angered and then infuriated when the thug had proposed his deal. Immunity for him and his side in exchange for information. He had stormed out of that warehouse and not looked back.

Then another girl had turned up dead. And another. Before he could think it through too many times, he was dialing the number that had called in the fake tip.

What else could he have done? It wasn’t like people weren’t going to buy the drugs anyway if he refused to play ball with the cartel. He’d gotten a location and led a raid to catch the Dollmaker in the act. A serial killer behind bars.

“Just remember the favor you owe us, Detective,” he’d been warned. “Or your pretty daughter with the fancy new law degree is gonna wish it was Mathis that got to her.”

Okay, so one cartel was going to walk the streets knowing he’d look the other way. So what? They didn’t have the manpower to bring them all in.

The funny thing was, once one deal was made, it didn’t seem so bad to make more. It was like they could sniff him out all of a sudden. Maybe there was talk. He didn’t know.

Quentin found himself with a lot more convictions under his belt and a lot more friends in low places. His tab was always paid at his favorite bar before he even made it there after a shift. It wasn’t like he was letting all the criminals walk. There were still bad people getting put away.

How was it any different than Nudocerdo hobnobbing with the big wigs in their ivory towers? How was it any different than Moira Queen or Malcolm Merlyn paying all the right people to get their kids off the hook for crimes they ought to be serving sentences for?

Whenever he happened to be in a charitable mood, which he rarely was, Quentin could admit it wasn’t very different to all the wheeling and dealing he’d done behind the scenes to keep Sara’s record clean.

If he had one saving grace, it was Laurel. She alone was untouched by all the dirt and corruption their city was swimming in. He was prouder than he could say, and it burned at him more than he could stand sometimes the way she would remind him of all the things he had once taught her about the law and doing what was right. He snapped at her more than was warranted for it, and he knew she just couldn’t understand.

He never wanted her to. If she ever knew…

But it was pointless to even worry about that. The associates he’d acquired over the last few years would ensure he was never ousted, so long as he kept up his end of the deals he’d made. And he would, for her sake. This city was rotten to the core, and if all he could do was save one person from it, it damned well wouldn’t be the rich elites who could bribe their way through anything or the teens with rap sheets already a mile long. It would be his own flesh and blood, all he had left of it in the world.

With enough drink in him, most nights he went to bed with a muddied conscience. But it was enough to let him sleep.

---

Laurel had had a bad feeling for a long time. Various bad feelings, she supposed, but it was hard not to when her sister and boyfriend died while screwing each other, her mother left and her father fell into drinking. There weren’t many good feelings left in the wake of all that.

But this specific one had more to do with her work. Ever since she had started at CNRI, things had felt a little… off.

At first she hadn’t noticed, too caught up in the high of winning her first official case, saving a man’s son from prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Other little victories here and there. 

But then, every time she tried going up against something big, the systemic forces truly plaguing their city, roadblocks constantly sprung up in her path. A judge threw the case out, witnesses disappeared, evidence went missing from the police lockers and, lately, her boss had been getting very particular about handing out or approving assignments.

If she’d talked to her father about it once, she must have talked to him about it a million times. He’d been a sympathetic ear at first, promising to keep an eye on things at the precinct, but as time wore on he did little more than sigh and tell her that she couldn’t expect to change the world overnight. Joanna did him one better and suggested Laurel do something with all that pent-up frustration, which had led Laurel to seeking out boxing lessons at a gym not too far from their office.

While letting her anger out through her fists did wonders for her emotional self-control, it did little to fix the rest of her problems. Laurel’s mind chased itself around in circles night after night, wondering just where the trouble was starting from. Was there some kind of leak between their office and the DA’s? Was it Kate Spencer herself? Or was she being spied on?

Laurel started meeting her clients outside of the office and off the books. For a while, it seemed to help as she was happy to note to her dad. But gradually, whatever force was conspiring against her seemed to catch up to her new methods. It didn’t matter if she worked with Joanna or alone, if she wrote her files in plain English or in the secret code she and Sara had developed during a particularly boring winter filled with school cancellations due to the wind chill, making playing outside impossible. She was reaching her wit’s end with this enemy who seemed to know her as well as she knew herself.

Just as she was starting to wonder if everything was hopeless, an unexpected ally of sorts emerged from seemingly nowhere: an archer dressed in green. He’d appeared on the scene as suddenly as Oliver had stepped back into her life after five years of him being presumed dead, taking in Adam Hunt and his security team before Laurel was slated to lose her case against him thanks to a bought Judge Grell. Then again, he took on Martin Sommers and the Triad after they attacked her home while Oliver was visiting.

It was exhilarating seeing someone finally stand up to the untouchable in this city. She couldn’t help to wonder why no one had thought to do it before, couldn’t help but feel inspired...

Laurel kept these thoughts to herself while staying at her father’s that night. The police were still processing the crime scene that her apartment had become the other night thanks to the home invasion that she suspected was meant to have been an assassination if she hadn’t been able to take down one of their attackers and Mr. Diggle hadn’t shown up to confront China White. The bodyguard himself might have been killed had Oliver not been extremely lucky with his knife throw. She supposed he must have gotten very good at that sort of thing while hunting for food on the island.

Laurel’s dreams of a figure moving through thick, green overgrowth stalking the Fortune 500 were interrupted by the low snarl of her dad’s voice. Laurel startled awake, looking around in confusion.

“...don’t care that he got away. Sommers overreached, and that’s his and your problem, not mine!”

Light shone through the cracks around the bedroom door. He was still awake? Laurel slid off the mattress as quietly as she could, sneaking in her socks to the door. She opened it a centimeter and peered down the hall.

Her father was pacing back and forth, crossing in and out of view as he spoke into a phone. “My daughter comes first. The minute you agreed to his contract, that’s the minute you turned your back on me. I wasn’t gonna do a damned thing to save that bottom-feeder from some vigilante.”

Laurel’s mind raced. If this was about Sommers, and her father was talking to a person who had accepted a contract that had to do with her…

“Yeah, I know. I know what you have on me. I’d rather we continue on business as usual, too, but we can’t do that unless I have your word that the next time Laurel is in your sights, you let me handle it. Alright? She’s my responsibility, not yours. And you can tell that to China White herself.”

China White. The Triad. Her father was on the phone with the Triad.

She watched him hang up and rub a hand across his forehead. “Should’ve just let her go to San Francisco…” he muttered under his breath.

She couldn’t keep watching. Laurel shook her head and backed up into a dresser with a muffled bang, too loud for him not to have heard. “Shit,” she whispered.

Sure enough, she heard his shoes coming down the hall. Rather than comforting, they sounded loud and heavy and like a threat. What did she do? What did she say?

The door opened before she could make up her mind to flee, and Laurel looked up at her father.

“Honey?” He asked, sounding just as concerned as always. His gun rested on his belt.

She had to play this off. She couldn’t risk him finding out she knew. She couldn’t trust he wouldn’t hurt her — she didn’t know who this man was anymore.

“Uh, sorry. I was getting up to use the bathroom, and I couldn’t see where I was going in the dark,” she explained, hoping the strain in her voice could be attributed to the pain from hitting the furniture.

He nodded. “Okay. Lamp’s on the table there for it you need it.”

“Uh-huh. Are you going out?”

He looked down at himself. “No. I just, uh, was finishing up some work at the table. I’ll get to sleep soon, promise.”

Laurel forced a smile that was more a nervous twitch of the lips as she slowly moved past him into the hall, shutting herself in the bathroom. She let out a breath then drew it back in, forcing herself to focus on that and prevent herself from hyperventilating.

Her father was a dirty cop. How long had he been? Since she got her degree? Since the Gambit sunk? Since always?

He was the source of the leak. For three years, she��d been watching herself and who she spoke to, dedicated herself to nothing but work — and the one person she had felt safe in confiding to, the one person she’d thought understood her relentless pursuit of justice, had betrayed her.

She sat on the lid of the toilet and willed the tears that wanted to spill from her eyes back. There wasn’t time to feel sorry for herself. She’d unknowingly been helping the other side by giving them ready access to information. What was she going to do now?

The first thing was stop talking to her dad about her cases and make sure to lock up her notes even in the safety of her home. And then… what? That didn’t feel like enough.

What could she do to help the people who had suffered for her ignorance? The people who would continue to suffer thanks to this corrupt bargain her father had made? Or even, maybe, possibly, her father himself?

Was he just doing this to protect her? Maybe someone had made threats. Maybe he thought it was the only way. They were both semi-public figures. It wouldn’t have been hard at all for organized crime to make the connection between them and decide to exploit it.

If she could figure out how deep this went, how far this web of alliances stretched, maybe she could free him from it.

But she couldn’t do it as herself. It was clear that either her father would be forced to stop her or the Triad and whoever else would take matters into their own hands, and she didn’t want to test her luck a second time. Prosecuting them publicly would mean damning her father, too, and despite everything she had just learned, she didn’t know if she was prepared to do that.

She had to work independently of the law. Any misgivings she might have felt about that a month ago melted away now that she knew her father had abandoned his own credo a long time ago. This wasn’t some idealized mock trial in school. This was reality. And there was someone out there already proving that the only way to get justice in this city was to get it yourself.

Laurel stood and flushed the toilet to sell her story, washing her hands in the sink as she stared herself down in the mirror. Her eyes were dry and determined.

She would do what needed to be done.

---

Oliver was at a crossroads in many ways. Diggle was on the fence about joining him. Lance was hot on the trail of evidence he’d planted to set himself up for exoneration. And he still didn’t know quite where he and Laurel stood since his return in both of his personas.

He knew as Oliver he was making things difficult, wanting to atone for his actions yet also wanting her safe. He couldn’t be the man she saw in him in his public life because he was needed as the Hood. And while she seemed far more receptive to the Hood, his first encounter with her had proven… odd.

“How do you decide?” She’d asked him unexpectedly in the dark of her apartment. The little light come through the windows made her eyes look overbright and earnest. “Who gets hospitalized and who lands in the morgue?”

“It’s not a decision,” he answered eventually. “Not a conscious one. This city is in a fight for its life. In those kinds of struggles…” He had found himself struggling then to articulate what it was to be driven by the need for survival in the heat of battle, how everything else faded away.

But Laurel had nodded as if she understood. “Then it’s not a question of targeting.”

“Is there someone you wanted targeted?”

To his surprise, she did not dismiss the question, but rather hesitated. “I don’t have everything I need yet. And you’re right that Declan’s case can’t wait if he really is as innocent as you think.”

He’d let the subject drop, and there had been no time to address it in any of their subsequent meetings. Certainly not at Iron Height, where she had pulled him out of the fog of battle through her touch and voice alone before he could make yet another kill. He didn’t know how to thank her for that. Especially when the next time he saw her, it was because she was representing him against her dad, and he couldn’t exactly thank her for something he wasn’t supposed to know about as Oliver Queen.

It helped that Laurel was convinced there was no way he was the Hood. At least, he thought she was convinced until the polygraph test. Until he revealed some of the truth about what had happened to him there. The look in her eyes… he had fled before she could ask him anything, back to the party he was having Tommy plan at the house.

Oliver walked around the main room, making sure he was very visible as Diggle prepared to head out in the Hood’s suit. While he didn’t exactly enjoy himself in this type of crowd anymore, he didn’t truly tense up until he noticed something.

Outside the glass doors to the patio, someone was watching.

The strobe lights from the party illuminated her for a moment — he thought it was a her, though he couldn’t make out her face beneath the dark shawl she wore over her head and wrapped around her shoulders. The patio went dark and then light again, and in that time she had turned her back as she dropped something in one of the potted plants.

Oliver sucked around people as he made his way to the patio and the far edge, but he could make out no one in the darkness of the grounds. None of the attendees seemed to have noticed anything, either, thought that likely was due to their inebriated states.

He went back to the plant and pulled out what she had left behind.

It was a manila envelope with a note scrawled on one side in almost exaggeratedly bad handwriting.

For the Hood, if you know him.

Oliver’s heart thudded in his chest. This woman had clearly decided to believe Lance, or at least believed he had some role in the Hood’s appearance in Starling.

Did he open it? Ignore it to avoid proving this woman’s suspicions? But then, what did she want?

Oliver took the envelope back to his room and opened it, spilling the contents onto his desk. Pictures printed on computer paper. Typed notes. It was rudimentary and low-budget, but he was looking at a dossier. A dossier on Nudocerdo, the Starling City Police Commissioner. From the looks of it, he was in far too many pockets to be doing anything good for the public.

Take him down without death and I’ll tell you everything, was written at the bottom of the final page.

Now he was truly at a crossroads. If he acted, this woman would clearly know he at the very least had a connection to the Hood. But just what was “everything”?

Oliver found himself attacked by a hitman before he could ponder that much further, and only the intervention of Detective Lance saved his life and his identity from being exposed, as much as the detective looked like he might be happy to shoot Oliver as well. Long after the party had been cleared out and his family had gone to sleep secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t a vigilante was Oliver able to discuss with Diggle the woman who seemed to think he might still be the vigilante.

“I think you were visited by the Maid.”

Oliver’s face scrunched up. “The who?”

Digg shrugged. “She showed up a couple weeks back. Folks in the Glades say they’ve spotted her trailing gangbangers and cops alike. And the rumor is she’s had to fight her way out of a situation or two. That’s part of what made me realize I needed to join this fight,” Diggle told him. Folks are getting restless, desperate. You’ve shown them a new way, and they just might take it.”

Oliver frowned. He hadn’t been trying to show anyone a new way. This was just the most effective way for him to complete his father’s mission. “Why ‘the Maid’?”

“You said she was wearing that shawl over her head? Hoodette didn’t catch on, so people started looking to your namesake: Robin Hood.”

It hit him a moment later. “Maid Marian.” His uneasiness grew. Oliver knew, of course, that the whole point of what he’d just done was that the Hood and Oliver Queen were separate identities. But he didn’t like the idea of being associated, and romantically at that, with another woman. Not when he was meant to be proving himself to Laurel. If she could only know.

Unless she did? Why exactly had she wanted to know how the Hood chose his targets and what happened to them? What had she meant by not having everything she needed yet? Was she gathering information? And if she was…

It was a theory. The same kind of theory that this woman was working off of regarding his own identity, but if he was right it changed everything.

If he was right, he needed to know what Laurel knew. And he had a feeling he’d only find that out once Nudocerdo was out of the picture.

---

Once again, he found himself at the bar and, once again, he found his tab was already covered. He wasn’t drinking anything strong, though. Not tonight. Not when he’d screwed up bad enough.

He’d been so sure it was Queen. Locking up the Hood would’ve helped smooth over the ruffled feathers caused by the vigilante’s interference in Hunt and Sommer’s operations. Would’ve made his job a heck of a lot easier. And would’ve gotten the bastard far and away from his daughter.

When he’d been sure of the archer’s identity, it had all made sense. Queen returned from that island and thought he could slide back into Laurel’s good graces by putting his thumb on the scales of justice, so to speak. That was clearly why Hunt and Sommers had been attacked coincidentally as Laurel was mounting cases against them, and she had been picked out of all the lawyers in the city to help him clear Peter Declan’s name. Only now, it apparently was a coincidence, and he didn’t know anything anymore.

The Hood needed to be caught. No matter what good other people thought he was doing, he was a menace that needed to be off the streets the same as any thug. Just because he was stealing money and giving it away didn’t make him better than the likes of a kid jacking a car for a joyride. It made him worse, because he was causing unrest with the criminal elements who, like it or not, were woven into the very fabric of Starling. Had been for longer than Quentin had wanted to admit before he’d finally given in.

A man in a fine suit took the barstool next to him. “Evening, Detective.”

Quentin blew out a breath. He was not in the mood for another deal right now, not when he was still on shaky ground with the Triad. “So, which boss do you work for?”

The man pursed his lips. “Hardly. My name is Carl Ballard.”

Ballard? One of the big-wigs? Quentin sat up a little straighter.

“What’s a guy with all the money and success in the world doing in a hole-in-the-wall like this?”

“I’m here on business. I assume you haven’t heard since you’re clearly off duty at the moment, but reports have come in that Commissioner Nudocerdo has been attacked in his home by the Hood.”

“That son of a bitch,” Quentin swore. It wasn’t enough that the guy had to prove his Queen theory wrong tonight, but he had to go after the police department?

“I agree,” Ballard said lightly. “And so do some associates of mine who were fond of Nudocerdo. Given his imminent fall from grace, we want to see that things keep running smoothly. That’s why I’m letting you know you have the full backing of Tempest to fill the position of Commissioner.”

He reeled back a little in shock. “Commissioner? Me?” His eyes narrowed. “Just what is Tempest?”

“A group of like-minded individuals who want the best for our families and our city, like yourself,” Ballard told him. “We all feel you would be the best candidate in these uncertain times. Your commitment to catching the vigilante is unmatched, and you understand the way this city works.”

He knew what that last part meant underneath. Business as usual. It was hardly what he would have envisioned all those years ago as a beat cop with his head full of ideas about changing things for the better. He’d forgotten about that dream a long time ago.

“Say I accept. What’s in it for me?”

“A number of powerful allies. More if you prove effective.”

“Effective at what?”

“Tempest wants to find out the source of the Hood’s information. What he’s basing his crusade off of and how he obtained it. These are things you have to be wondering, too.”

He had, and he’d thought for a worrying moment that it might be Laurel. For the first time tonight, he was glad he’d been wrong about his assumptions on Queen.

“I’ve been in the Glades recently working on a gentrification project, and my security tells me they’ve heard rumors of a spy. A woman. They’re calling her his Maid Marian. We’d like you to start there, tracking down this young Maid.”

An informant for the Hood? That was something solid, something real at last. What did he have to lose?

“I’ll get on it — or, guess I’ll put my best men on it, since your people want me in the Commissioner’s chair so badly.” Quentin stuck out his hand for Carl Ballard to shake.

It wasn’t the worst deal he’d made.

[narryblossoms]

A Win

so I decided to try something new! pls let me know whether you guys like it and would want me to write more like this :)

~~

"Angie, could you tell Taran that I need to see him, please."

"Right away, Mr. Styles." She answered immediately.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"What is this?" 

"It's-"

"Don't answer that." Harry rubbed his forehead. “This is unacceptable, Taran. I know you can do much better than this.”

The flushed employee pursed his lips and nodded at Harry.

"If you want to be my second chair in court this afternoon, rewrite this and get it back to me in an hour.”

“Yes, Sir.” He leaned forward to grab the report before zipping out of the room.

Just as Harry leaned back in his chair to rub his eyes, let out a yawn and stretch his legs, his phone rang.

“Honey?” You said through the phone out of breath.

Harry immediately straightened up. “Hi, everything okay?”

“Aide’s teacher just called, he threw up in class. We need to go pick him up and I’m 45 minutes out. Can-“

“I got it, Sweet, don’t worry.” Harry turned his wrists and glanced at his watch, "I’ll have to bring him back here since I have a meeting in an hour. So just come to my office, alright?”

“Okay.” He heard you sigh, "I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Alright, baby. I’m sure he’s fine, probably just an upset stomach. You know how sensitive he is.” He assured you.

"I know, I know."

"Drive safe, please.”

~~

“Hi Angie,” you greeted the young brunette who looked like she could use a cup of coffee. "How are the boys doing? Are they in there?"

"Mr. Styles had to go for a quick meeting with the defense but Adrian is fast asleep.” She answered as she organized a pile of papers in front of her. "Just checked on him a moment ago.” She smiled at you.

“Okay, thank you. Has he eaten anything?"

"Not yet. I have an intern out to get soup and sandwiches for you both so it should be here any minute."

"But you ordered some for Harry as well?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You smiled graciously, "thank you, Angie. Don't know what we'd do without you."

"No worries, Mrs. Styles."

~~

"When do you have to go to court?”

“Around three.” He answered as he rubbed his youngest son's back lightly. Aide was clinging to Harry with his nose in his father's shoulder and his little hands clasped at the back of his neck. Harry had his coat hanging on the back of his chair and his sleeves rolled up as Aide napped contently against the hum of his father’s voice and the warmth of his body. There was something about Harry that made the little boy always have the need to be latched on to him when he was sick.

“You should get ready then." You tell him softly, not wanting to disturb your son.

“I will in a minute.” He replied, leaning his head against his son’s before he pressed a kiss to his chestnut coloured head.

A few minutes later there was a knock and Angie peeked her head through the glass door, “Mr. Styles?”

Harry swiveled around in his chair carefully as to not wake up the child in his lap. He raised his eyebrows at his secretary as she pushed her glasses further up her button nose.

“Mr. Gardener is here to see you.” Harry glanced behind her through the clear walls to find Will Gardener looking back at him with a slight smirk on his face. 

You followed Harry’s gaze and turned around from where you were seated to see the cause of your husband’s frown. The intruder's smirk grew as he made eye contact with you and you recognized him right away.

“Tell him I’ll see him in the conference room, Angie.” Harry muttered, glaring at the man.

“Of course.” She squeaked.

“Take him. I’ll be right back.” Harry got up to walk around his desk and as he began to peel Aide away, from his chest. He pressed two quick kisses to his forehead as he pulled off the little boy and placed him in your lap.

~~

“What can I do for you, Mr. Gardener?” Harry asked leaning against the conference table not bothering to sit down since he knew this would be a short conversation. He hadn’t bothered to straighten his tie or pulling down his sleeves.

“Hello to you too, Harry.” The puffed up lawyer greeted.

“What do you need?” Harry said impatiently, trying to get to the end of the conversation.

“I noticed your wife came to visit.”

Harry’s jaw clenched as he held his fist back. “She's holding my son, you sick bastard."

"I know." He winked.

"Do you enjoy getting punched in the face?" 

Will let out a chuckle before pulling out a blue file and placing it in front of Harry. Harry slid the file back to him without a glance. “We’re not taking the deal.”

“Just take a look at it.”

“I don’t need to. I’ve already told you that we’re not taking any half-assed deal."

“It’s 200 grand for your client. And my client gets a suspension from the team.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. He pulls the file back to him before scanning through. “Suspended for one term? What kind of bullshit is this?”

“It’s not bullshit, Harold. It’s a punishment for his actions. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“One term is not a punishment. And don’t call me Harold.”

“It’s $200,000 as well.”

“I don’t give a shit about the money.”

“Then I can’t give you anything better.”

“Then I don’t want your piece of shit deal. That kid is going to jail and will have as many sexual harassment charges on his name as possible, even if it’s the last thing I do. Now get the fuck out of my face."

~~

Harry was laid out on the couch with Aide, who couldn’t be bothered, snoozing atop his dad's chest with a blanket covering his little body. Harry stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Jasper and Winnie were having the time of their lives lounging on the couch across from their dad with their shoes off and homework forgotten as they watched Netflix on their mum’s work laptop. Winnie giggled aimlessly as she loaded her mouth with double-stuffed Oreos while her older brother made sure to dust off any cookie crumbs before their mum noticed. You noticed though. Their dad did too.

You sat at Harry's desk, revising kitchen plans for the cottage a client needed you to renovate. Your heels were off, with your hair up and away from your shoulders and, your nylon covered legs were folded underneath you. You had gone and picked up Jasper and Wynter from school as Adrian fell asleep once again with Angie promising to check up on him every five minutes. You had quickly detoured to your home where you let Dino out into the yard while you grabbed Aide’s pajamas and hurriedly helped Jasper and Winnie change out of their school clothes.

It was nearing 6pm and your family of five sat in your husband’s office as you all waited for dinner and as Harry waited for the jury to come back so the stiffened muscles in his back could finally relax, the migraine pounding in his head could hurry away and he could freely snuggle his youngest back to health.

Eventually, the food arrives and everyone sits around the glass coffee table, passing takeout containers to each other so everyone could have their share.

A knock came to the door and everyone’s heads lifted up to see the intruder. 

“Jury’s in.”

Harry quickly slurped the rest of the noodles back into his mouth before placing his styrofoam plate on the table in front of him and standing up to straighten out his attire.

“Daddy?” Aide asked from where he was sat next to Harry watching a show with his siblings. His eyes were drooping slightly as his tummy was filled with cough syrup and half of his dad's wonton noodles.

“Daddy’s gotta go, bubba. Mumma will sit with you.” He told the little boy.

“Can I come with you, Daddy?”

“No.” Harry frowned, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You’re a bit sick, but next time yeah?”

Adrian frowned but slowly nodded his head.

You walked up to Harry with his coat in your hands and gestured him to turn around so you could help him slip it on. You nudged him to turn again so you could straighten his tie as he worked on fixing the buttons on his sleeves. 

“Taran?” He turned to the employee still waiting at his door as you attempted to fix his collars. “Mind grabbing the files for me? They’re over on my desk.”

The first-year nodded and made his way to grab the files.

“Wipe your face.” You told him holding a napkin in between your fingers. Harry rolled his eyes but grabbed it anyway and wiped his mouth clean. “Good luck.” You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him. He squeezed your hip in retaliation as the nervousness began to show. “We’ll meet you at home, okay?"

Harry nodded and walked over to get kisses from Jasper and Winnie who were munching on their spring rolls and a second one from Aide before letting out a breath and turning around. “Ready?” He asked Taran, who looked just as nervous as he did.

Taran nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go."

~~

The front door slammed shut followed by the twist of a lock, "Hi." He grinned as he showed up at the entrance of the den where his family was sprawled.

"Daddy!"

"Hey! You're not asleep yet?" He asked the little boy as he lifted him up onto his hip.

He shook his head and wrapped his arms around his dad's neck. "He was waiting for you." You answered for Aide.

"Yeah?" Harry asked pressing a kiss to his head. Aide nodded his head while tightening his grip on his dad.

“Feeling any better, bub?”

“My throat feels better.” Aide answers.

“Does it? That’s good.” Harry replies, seating himself on the couch beside you before lifting up the blanket you were beneath, to cover the both of them.

"I'm guessing it went well?" You asked with a smile, as he gets himself comfortable beside you. 

"It did." Harry smiled at you while slowing rubbing Aide’s back.

"Proud of you." You tell him, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I think it's time for bed," he says, the look in his eyes changing to something more exciting.

"Me too," you agree. "Want to get him to sleep while I clean up and meet you in bed?"

Harry nods at you with a sparkle in his eyes, before he's getting up again to take his toddler to his room. 

~~

you can read more of my stuff here. and my fic recs here.

also poc names???? ur welcome

also side note: everything lawyer related in this story is inspired by the shows ‘Suits' and 'The Good Wife’. i recommend watching the good wife since it’s female lead and is about a lawyer who gives up practice after her husband decides to run for state attorney or something (i'm canadian idk how us politics work) and then he cheats on her and she decides to go back to work but starts from the bottom. its SUPER good pls watch and love alicia florrick like i do ok thnx hope u enjoyed!! xoxo