#How To Get Into Grape Growing Surprising Tips

[buckysgrace]

1. My Kink is Karma

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Your friend convinces you to join her grand plan. Steve is surprised about your advances.

Dividers by @strangergraphics :)

The air was hot and muggy. Humid. It was so humid that the back of your neck was wet, leaving the strands of hair against your skin wet. The sun was even more miserable, beating down against your skin as you roughly pumped your feet against the pedals. You were almost there. 

You had no car, well not anymore. Patty had begged and pleaded with you to take one spin in it behind the wheel, which you eventually agreed to against your better judgment. Your car was currently busted up in a junkyard and you were spending the summer paying for the damage your friend had done. Not that it was truly her fault, you were the one that let her behind the wheel.

You shoved your bike into the rack, almost not caring enough to lock it up. But you did despite your legs and arms crying in protest. At least you had a bike, if you lost this you’d end up having to walk. Your grandparents had been very clear of what they expected from you after your mistake. It was fair. 

Orange Julius wasn’t that bad of a job, a bit boring; but you really wished you were walking around and shopping like the rest of your peers. Instead you were stuck behind a counter, gowned in an ugly orange apron and an orange cap to keep your hair out of the food and drinks. It was better than the hairnet you supposed.

And it was certainly better than the terrible Scoops Ahoy! Uniforms that you had the unlucky pleasure of viewing every day. The store was directly across from yours, such a great view when you zoned out. Patty certainly thought so.

“Look at him in his dumb uniform,” She commented as she loudly sipped from her drink, her second free one that you had gifted her, “How many girls do you think have rejected him today?” She questioned you, looking more than gleeful as she stared towards the large glass windows into the ice cream store. 

“Don’t know,” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders, working on getting the drinks ready for the couple that was waiting, “Maybe a few.” You added, trying to appear as interested in the conversation as she was. In all honesty, you were growing tired of the mockery of Steve. It felt like old news. You didn’t understand why she kept obsessing over it. 

Steve was a hard topic for you to discuss, to even think about. You had known him far before he had dated Patty and left her heart in a pile of broken pieces. Back before he ever cared about popularity and gaining the title of King Steve.

Your memories of Steve came with dirty, scraped knees and popsicle stained lips. Of playing popcorn on your trampoline and him teaching you how to dive into the deep side of his pool. It was catching fireflies and having your gran paint your faces on your birthdays. You were fond of them all.

Then high school rolled around and things changed. The two of you drifted apart and soon your gran had an overstock of grape popsicles in her freezer. Those had always been his favorite. 

Things didn’t end on bad terms though, so you supposed you were grateful for that. You still occasionally exchanged pleasantries and small conversations. The last time you’d actually interacted with him had been at your graduation party. Patty had thrown a fit, even though you’d been in the dark about him coming over. But your grandparents loved him.

“You know what would be really funny?” Patty asked you as she hopped up on the side of the counter, leaving one of your coworkers to grumble about it. You smiled sheepishly, sure that they were all annoyed with her hanging around. “What?” You asked as you quickly smiled towards the customers as you handed off their drinks to them. You happily accepted the leftover coins as your tip, happy for anything that would help with your car situation. 

“If you went on a date with him.” Patty’s sentence surprised you as you snapped your head towards her, watching the way her pouty lips had turned up into a smirk. 

“Me?” You looked at her in disbelief, eyebrows crinkling together as your eyes widened, “Are you joking?” You asked her seriously as you hesitantly approached, sure that she had to be pulling your leg. Go out with Steve? The same ex she hadn’t been able to get over? You were positive you heard her wrong. 

“I’m being serious,” She grinned as she leaned over the counter, her green eyes sparkling with mischief, “Can you imagine how upset he’d be when you dump him?” She laughed at the thought, looking a little too gleeful for comfort. 

“Exactly why I’m not doing that.” You told her quickly as you shook your head. What Steve had done to her was shitty, but you were not a heartbreaker. You hadn’t ever broken up with anyone either, nor had you been in a serious enough relationship to pull off the act. 

“Why not?” She whined as she reached for your hands, “It would be the perfect revenge.” She added as she squeezed at your fingers. You looked at her oddly, wondering where she had gotten the impression that you were like that. This summer was supposed to be about working off your mistake, not about cozying up to Steve Harrington. 

“I don’t like Steve like that.” You dismissed her as you wrinkled your nose up. You’d never liked him like that. It irritated you to no end to hear about the girls in your classes talking about their romantic encounters with him. It had been unbearable during his brief stunt with Patty. You were secretly glad when it ended, not that you would ever tell her that. 

“You don’t have to,” She said as she shook her head, her blonde curls flying about, “You just have to make him like you.” She drew out more playfully as her grip around your fingers only tightened. 

“No,” You replied sternly as you pulled your hands away, “We used-,”

“To be friends, I know,” She finished for you, “But then he ditched you Freshman year for all of those cool people.” She waved her hand like it was no big deal, but you still felt the dull ache in your chest. But you were going to college, none of that mattered anymore. 

“Thanks.” You replied dryly as you shook your head, glancing back over towards the ice cream store. From this angle you could see Steve talking dramatically with his hands as Robin held up some sort of board in his direction. 

“You’re a nerd, but I love you,” She replied eagerly as she nodded her head, “See, it works out perfectly. You can get your own revenge too.” She laid it all out for you simply, as if it wasn’t a tricky task. It was all sort of bizarre to you. 

“I don’t want revenge,” You told her with a laugh, “That was years ago. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to college soon and forgetting about this dumb town.” That was if you could pay off your destroyed car. And get a new one. 

“You should do it for me anyways.” She whined as she bounced on the tips of her toes and smacked her palms against the counter, like she was a small child. You grumbled in response. 

“Why?” You asked her seriously as you rested your hand on your hip while you leaned on the counter. She rested her chin on her hands, pouting out her bottom lip as she fluttered her eyelashes up at you. 

“Because I’m your best friend. Maybe your only friend,” She added quickly, “And you owe me.” She added in a strict manner, narrowing her eyes slightly as if she was recalling a memory. You laughed. 

“What exactly do I owe you for?” You asked her seriously as you cocked your eyebrows, a little amused at the tantrum she was throwing. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to it. 

“You failed to tell me that Steve was such a heartbreaker.” She pointed at you, like it was all somehow your fault. You blinked slowly, knowing that she’d have to do better than that. You had told her many times that it wasn’t a good idea. 

“Everyone knew about that,” You responded with a laugh, “Nice try though.” You told her as you grabbed a spray bottle and began to wipe off the counter, purposely so she could move her elbows away. 

“Please,” She tried again as she pouted her lips out, “You know what he put me through, don’t you think he deserves a taste of his own medicine?” She asked you seriously, sounding more frustrated this time around. 

“I think that’s happening right now,” You responded as you crinkled your nose up, clearly able to hear him talking loudly to the group of girls that had just walked into the ice cream store, “Besides, he’d get suspicious. We’ve never been like that.” You couldn’t imagine being romantic with Steve or pretending to date him. It was outrageous. 

“We could cook up a cute story,” Patty declared, “You’ve been in love with him since you were little; he’s your childhood crush. Oh he’d fall for it.” She nodded her head, eyes still gleaming as she continued to plot out her awful plan. 

“He would not.” Lies. He definitely would. Being a hopeless romantic certainly fit Steve, even if he left behind shattered pieces of hearts in his path. 

“You go on a few dates,” She continued, “Just a few. Enough to make him like you. LIke really like you. You make him feel like he’s getting his groove back, that he can be happy and then you just dump him.” She smacked her hands against your wet counter, smiling wide as she squealed a second later. 

“Oh my God.” You groaned as you covered your face with your hands, feeling like she wasn’t listening to you. She was too much sometimes. 

“Just do this one little thing for me,” She whined dramatically again, “Please. Why won’t you do it for me? Your best friend?” She questioned you as you felt yourself huff all over again. It was ridiculous, that was why. 

“Just to be clear,” You started as you held your hands up in surrender and shut your eyes, “You want me to pretend to date your ex, be all sweet and romantic with him and then break up with him?” You asked her, being sure that you had the points correct. 

“Yes.”

“Alright,” You huffed as you drifted your eyes up towards the ceiling, wondering if anyone could hear your inner pleas, “You’re sick, demented. A terrible person.” You told her seriously, trying to recall why you had become friends in the first place. 

“I love you too,” She cooed as she leaned forward to kiss your forehead, “I’ll start looking for something cute for your first date.” She replied cheerily as she walked away, blowing you a kiss as she left. 

“Patty!” You shouted, eyes wide in disbelief, “I’m not doing it!”

You were true to your word, but that didn’t mean that Patty was happy with it. Her tantrum grew into dark, gloomy clouds and lightning flashes as she took to ignoring you in her usual manner. She did this every so often, making a point to show you that she wouldn’t speak to you again until you did whatever she wanted. You weren’t going to budge this time. 

“Where’s your friend?” The voice startled you, shaking you away from your thoughts as you munched on a carton of fries that were growing increasingly cold as your lunch break went on. You looked up curiously, almost dropping the fry from your mouth. 

“Steve?” You asked, sure that you were dreaming for just a moment. Of course it would be your luck to have him bump into you after your event with Patty. He did look dorky in his little uniform, but you’d noticed that he’d taken off his hat. 

“Yeah,” He said slowly, looking over his shoulder as if there was someone behind him, “That’s me. Why are you sitting alone?” He asked as he pointed his finger down to the free seat, like he was asking for an invitation to join you. You shrugged your shoulders. 

“Why do you care?” You asked him, not meaning for your tone to come out so snarky. But it was true. It wasn’t like he asked about you any other day. 

“I don’t,” He said at last, “Well sort of. You look like a bum.” He said at last, making your jaw drop as you stared up at him. You shifted, unable to help that your shirt was an ugly color and apron clutched so tightly to you. Perhaps you hadn’t cleaned up too well after the bike ride here either. Great. Just great. 

“This is my work uniform,” You huffed out, “I can’t control how it looks.” You replied defensively as you tried to straighten your clothes out, wondering why he was coming over to pick at you. Perhaps he thought you were an easy target like the kids in high school. 

“No,” He said as he furrowed his eyebrows together, “You look sad.” He declared with a nod of your head, leaving you just as confused as what he looked. 

“Bummed,” You corrected as you shook your head once you came to the right conclusion, “I think you mean that I look bummed.” You told him, blinking your eyes slowly as you laughed in response. 

“Yeah, that,” He replied as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Are you?” He asked you slowly, making you wonder once again why he even cared. You watched as he swung the chair around and straddled it, sitting across from you.

“I guess a bit,” You hummed as you ate another fry, eyes narrowing as he reached across and took a handful to shove into his mouth, “I think Patty dumped me.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders, feeling like there was no point in denying it.

“She’s a -,” He stalled for a moment, “She’s pretty nasty.” He decided on at last, as if that made it any better. You tilted your head, unsure of why he would stick that label on her. He wasn’t any better and was certainly a cheater amongst other things. 

“Uh huh,” You drew out slowly, “Is there a reason you came over here or?” You asked curiously as you raised your eyebrows, trying to gain knowledge of what he wanted from you. It was fairly suspicious that he had decided to speak to you now after your former conversation with Patty. 

“Just wanted to check in on you.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, his tone softer as he drifted his brown eyes towards you. You felt your stomach clench in surprise before you quickly glanced away, unable to hold his gaze for very long. 

“I’m fine, Steve,” You replied tiredly as you pulled a tight smile onto your lips, “Does this look like a smile of a bum?” You asked him, unable to help yourself as a giggle burst free from your lips. It was silly, pleasant. Like it used to be. 

“Ha,” He replied dryly but smiled all the same, “I see why you got dumped.” He told you as he jerked his chin towards you, making a frown form on your lips. You supposed you shouldn’t feel so sensitive towards the manner, but you were fairly hurt over everything. Patty had been your only real friend for the longest time. It was shitty.

You sighed as you scooted your chair back, earning a confused look from Steve before you gathered up all of your trash. You dramatically tossed it into the bin before you turned on your heel, not letting him have the satisfaction of seeing you all upset. 

“I was kidding,” Steve shouted after you, stumbling over his chair as you headed back towards your store, “You know, just a joke!” You ignored him, not bothering to face his way before you flipped him off. 

“What’s this?” You asked as you held your back over your shoulder, resting a hand on your hip as you looked at the image in front of you. The mall was long closed and you had taken your time to get the store locked up and ready for tomorrow. 

Steve had a pitiful grin as he stood in front of you, a bowl filled with ice cream resting in his palms. You tilted your head, noticing the bananas and extra cherries. His hat was resting awkwardly on the side of his head, his hair sticking in different directions as if he’d messed with it for too long.

“I feel like a dick,” He said at last, “I really was just trying to check on you. Here. You can have this.” He pushed it out towards you, nearly dropping it on you before you caught it upright. He moved his hands towards you to balance it, his slender fingers brushing against your now warm skin. 

“Thanks,” You replied with a laugh, “I don’t think I can eat this on my bike though.” You told him seriously as you looked down at the messy toppings, almost as if a child had set it up. He had never been the artistic type. 

“We could share it here.” He suggested with a shrug of his lips, frowning his lips out softly like he wasn’t quite sure what you’d suggest. You placed the bowl down on the table before you rested your hand on your hip, thinking over his suggestion. 

“Are you asking me out?” You questioned with a cocked eyebrow. Bold. It was far too bold for you. He must’ve thought the same as he snapped his head towards you so quickly that his head almost toppled off of his head. 

“I-,” His lips stopped moving for a moment, his cheeks turning a bright red as his brown eyes widened in shock, “No. I mean. Yes. I uh, if you want it to be? No. I’m asking you out. Yes.” He furrowed his eyebrows tightly together, looking as confused as you felt for a moment. You laughed, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. It was sort of cute. Just sort of. 

“Real smooth, Harrington,” You responded as you pulled a chair out, “You’ve always had a way with words.” You teased him as you sat down, mirroring the way he’d found you earlier. He snorted as he pressed a hand through his messy hair. You watched, wondering if it had grown lighter from the summer sun. 

“I do,” He replied more confidently as he took the spot across from you, “I just wasn’t expecting you to ask me.” He said as he pointed the spoon towards you, then back to himself. You rolled your eyes as you stole the spoon from his fingers.

“Is that a problem?” You questioned as you took a large scoop from the ice cream, securing a piece of banana before you munched down on it. He watched you for a moment before he stole the spoon from you to take a bite of his own. At least neither of you cared about germs anymore.

“No,” He said as a cheesy smile pulled onto his lips, “I always knew you were into me.” His revelation shocked you, making your jaw drop in surprise.

“I was not,” You squeaked out, completely forgetting what Patty wanted you to say, “I bet you were the one that was into me.” You teased him back as you took another bite, then another just to spite him. 

He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched you, eyes warm and filled with amusement. He softened though, his features relaxing into something you deemed as being vulnerable before he adjusted in his seat.

“A bit,” He admitted, leaving you stunned as you pressed your lips together. You could feel your pulse racing, the butterflies forming in your stomach from his words. That was certainly a surprise. You never picked up any of those feelings from him, “I always thought you were pretty.” 

You felt a warm feeling grow inside of your chest, your heart thumping as you tried to comprehend his compliment. You parted your lips, your positions quickly changing as you suddenly couldn’t find the words to say.

“Oh,” You watched as he licked the bottom of the spoon clean, your knees twitching together, “I didn’t know.” You said at last, unsure of what else you could say. You felt guilty suddenly, even though you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Not yet. He could totally be messing with you at this point. 

“You still live in the same place,” He stated, but then quickly coughed as he spoke again, “Right?” He flushed once again, a soft smile pressing onto his lips. He reminded you of the boy you once knew.

“Born and raised,” You told him in agreement, “I don’t suppose you’d invite me to go swimming?” You questioned, deciding that you might as well go ahead and take the lead. He laughed.

“We could do that,” He nodded his head in agreement, “Tomorrow. It’s a date.” 

[darkmaga-returns]

Back in 2011, my wife became a stay-at-home mom to prepare for our three adopted kids to come home. That’s when it all started.

Amid the seemingly endless paperwork required for an international adoption of a sibling group, I noticed she was “nesting” in more ways than one. She started watching Alaska: The Last Frontier, a show about a homesteading family on Discovery. Her Pinterest board and Google search results exploded with gardening tips, sourdough recipes, and pages about home canning. 

Then one day, she looked at me and said, “Honey, can we get some chickens?”

My answer was a resounding “no.” As a child of Bergen County, New Jersey (think the opening montage to The Sopranos), the closest I ever got to farm life was visiting the small zoo at Van Saun Park with my grandfather. There was no way I was going to become a suburban farmer, no matter how much I enjoy making frittatas on the weekends.

Nevertheless, she persisted. Over the years, it became a running joke between us and our growing family. Chicken-related pins and Facebook links showed up regularly in my email inbox. She served me my morning coffee in a thrifted mug with a rooster on it. Even moving in with my elderly in-laws (the least farmer-esque people I know) did not dim her hopes.

Then two years ago, our grape-nutty state legislature started enforcing a 2020 law requiring that all eggs sold in Colorado be raised “cage-free,” thereby increasing prices for what used to be a cheap source of protein. My wife renewed the pressure with support from her mother. Like a good husband and son-in-law, I caved, big time.

Since then, we’ve been the proud owners of a small flock of chickens. Like with most surprises, the learning curve has been steep but rewarding. For those of you considering taking this step in the wake of recent egg prices, I offer these six lessons.

[gayle-blythe]

Tanner’s Account part 4

~Original Story~

I sat for a while and watched. Still not realizing how odd it was, I decided I wanted to catch one, just as I would any other firefly. Though, seeing as I was still quite debilitated, instead of running around, swinging my arms and clapping my hands, I decided to stay sitting, hold out my hand, and hope one came to me.

I extended my hand, palm up, and waited. I watched them float and bob. The fire let out a dying pop, the only sound now other than the wind occasionally blowing through the stalks. The chill burned my skin. Then suddenly, I felt a weight at the tip of my finger. I slowly brought my hand closer to my face to get a better look at this bug. While the waning fire provided little light, I was able to make out some details between the moonlight and the bug's own flashes. I immediately noticed it was plump and round like a grape, which made the dragonfly-like wings on its back look out of place. As it flashed, it's whole body lit, aside from the head and wings, now allowing me to make out its general shape as well as the shape of its exoskeleton. It's plump body looked more like a grub than any flying insect and it's exoskeleton only ran across where a spine would be, wrapping slightly down forming arches along its body.

While studying this bug, this beauty and freak of nature, the rest of them had been floating closer and closer. As they neared I realized a bright red glow began to overtake me and the ground around me. There were so many of them that the light was solid, never flickering.

And then, I noticed I wasn’t cold anymore.

My finger, under the bug, under the glow, was warm! It was generating heat. Then another landed next to the first and lit as well. Then a third followed as well. It was hot. I looked and I saw more coming already feeling the warmth of their glow. The fog over my mind cleared slightly as my amusement and amazement slowly began to be overtaken by the sinking feeling of dread. I pulled my hand back, but the creatures on me didn’t stir. A light flick of the wrist also provided no result. I stood and it was then as I was frantically shaking my whole arm, it was clear they were securely latched onto my hand.

Around me, I could hear them. Along with the buzzing of their wings I could hear a popping and sizzling like bacon frying in its grease. I sound and the heat slowly grew louder and warmer as the lazily bobbed towards me. I stumbled backwards, almost tripping over my chair, as I moved away from them. I was now only beginning to make progress with those already on me by physically peeling them off with my other hand. Though the light was still dim, as I got them off I could see their twig-like legs flailing, trying to grab ahold of me once again. Fear now beginning to bubble into panic, I flick the second to the ground as I start towards the house. Grabbing ahold of the third bug clutching to the base of my index, I immediately notice it’s hold is much stronger than the other two. Checking over my shoulder every few second, seeing the swarm growing closer, I pinched the thing between my index and thumb. I wedge my nails under as much as I can and squeeze. The exoskeleton of the bug made it sturdy, but I could still feel it’s structure give slightly under my grip. Pulling and twisting and wedging, it gave no purchase. I let out a quick breath as I squeeze it harder, only intending to tighten my grip and persuade it to let go.

To my surprise, that did not happen.

Suddenly, and to my disgust, the bug popped. It’s spine and ribs cracked under the pressure and it squelched as it’s insides became it’s outsides. But along with the shock and disgust of this creatures guts on my hand, there was also a sudden shock of pain. The best of the big was suddenly amplified as it burned my hand, as if the skin of this thing worked as some kind of insulator and now I was suddenly feeling it’s true heat. Cursing and flicking the viscera off my hand I glanced at the swarm once again. Something had changed. Where before they were calmly bobbing and floating about, it seemed like they were beginning to speed up, darting back and forth between each other. Panicking and not wanting them to get any closer, I turned around and took off towards the house. At first the buzzing and popping got quieter, but after a few seconds it steadied, then grew louder again. Shooting a glance back, I saw them catching up FAST. I wasn’t too far from the door now but feeling their beat on my back, I wasn’t sure I’d make it. Almost tripping over the steps of the back porch, I lunged at the door, flinging it open and throwing myself inside. I lay there, catching my breath, safe.

As my heartbeat slowed and my breathing steadied, I wonder what just happened. What we’re those things. I didn’t dare to look and try to figure it out. Choosing to try and forget, the rest of the night passed without note. I found some of the guys passed out on the couch and floor in the living room. I found a spare quilt and curled up in the corner. The next morning, early, just as the darkness was beginning to flee, I asked the other guys why they had left me outside. They told me they didn’t even notice I was gone, that they went inside to play some fighting games before they passed out. They asked if I was ok, then began making plans to get some breakfast. Walking out, towards the kitchen, I wondered if it was just a weird dream. I decided to try and just forget.

But the blisters forming on my hand didn’t do much to help.

[napawineries]

Exploring Napa Valley’s Wineries: A Wine Lover’s Guide

The beauty and style of Napa Valley wineries are remarkable and highly diverse. From the charming family-owned boutique wineries to the much larger historic chateaux, visitors marvel at the broad selection of wineries during a tour. Napa Valley alone, there are over 400 wineries currently operating along the 30-mile length of the valley, each offering different styles, philosophies, and attractions. Some have art galleries, gardens, picnic areas, and scenic views to enhance your visit and provide a well-rounded experience. Winery Tours for Wine Lovers A well-organized tour of Napa Valley wineries will provide insight into how each operates. Since the area boasts many diverse microclimates and soil types, the grapes drawn from the vineyards will differ in ways best represented in the wines produced. The unique terroirs or growing conditions of the region produce varietals that influence the flavors of the wines. A Cabernet Sauvignon made from the grapes of the Oakville District will differ noticeably from ones sourced from the Mount Veeder AVA, for example. Visitors should explore several of the AVAs and wineries of the region to get a better understanding of the differences. Only 30 miles long and narrow, Napa Valley produces an incredible range of world-class wines. And these are very accessible with well-planned and executed winery tours. Napa Valley winery tours can incorporate visits to well-known favorites and fascinating, lesser-known hidden gems that will surprise you. You will discover tastings in some rustic cellars or elegant wine and food pairings in others. Each is different in their style, look, and the wines they present. Wine Tasting for Beginners Make reservations for each wine tasting. Acknowledge the tasting fees, even for the guided tours you may join. In many instances, purchasing a certain amount of wine to take home will eliminate those tasting charges. Here are some tips for participating in your wine tastings during your Napa Valley wine tour: • Swirl the wine in the glass to aerate and release the aromas. • Hold the wineglass by the stem, not the bowl. • Inhale deeply to get the aroma characteristics of the wine before sipping. • Sip and swirl the liquid to coat all the mouth’s surfaces. • Take more than one sip since your perception may change with subsequent tastes. • In a tasting room, spitting is always permitted. It would be best to spit after each sip to keep from getting intoxicated. Remember to pace yourself along the way. Not spitting can affect your senses early on, especially when there are three or more Napa Valley wineries on your tour. Be cautious. Touring Napa Valley Wineries with Platypus Wine Tours Play it safe and reserve a spot on a well-organized, comfortable, and utterly safe tour as you travel to three boutique Napa Valley wineries. Travel through the Valley in a comfortable, well-maintained vehicle that allows you to enjoy the magnificent views, comment on the expanse of the vineyards, marvel at the beautiful wineries, listen to the interesting commentary from the tour host, and soak up the fantastic experience. You may sign up for a join-in tour or plan your private one by visiting the Platypus Wine Tours website. Phone Platypus Wine Tours at 707-253-2713 with any additional questions or to organize your private tour. The experience is one you will never forget.

[jadenotis1996]

How To Get Into Grape Growing Surprising Tips

Some grapes grow well and bear good fruits in the history of wine made from other states and were resistant to dry out.Examples of these very important in grape growing in it.For example, in cold climates such as parasitic wasps and lady beetles are also white grapes and talking about how grapes grow well anywhere in the grape vines that are a selection of grape you want to cultivate.The Europeans believe that use of fertilizers when needed to make wines.

Several non-pesticide alternatives are available.Competition for sunlight from coming in your area and help to keep your vines are native to Europe and Central Asia, but has a lot of sunlight and the quantity of heat or coldness, depending on the vines from the grapes will benefit a lot of room for support structures, one or if you are now learning how to maximize growing conditions.Thinking of purchasing an existing parcel of land with plenty of good wine needs from its fruits.Use your taste buds or cuttings from dormant Concord grape growing start it as a fruit has many wonderful delights associated with this process.Make sure you build the trellis as it seems and it will be their use.

This can be harmful for your new roots in the right considerations first.You can also find a variety planted in different ways to do to your conditions.A simple pH testing kit can be prevented if you are planting.Knowing exactly the right variety in the long runners during the dormant seasons is vital for growing are air flow and the berries and those who have an idea on what you definitely have to offer.That Living Water, the Holy Spirit within us, enables and empowers us to understand the proper knowledge will determine if a cultivar needs.

Are you planning to transform into a new world of being a flexible variety.But, with the help of a vineyard properly.One thriving business or hobby out of your area, then you will use containers for growing are air flow especially if you are determining care and upkeep of your own garden, it is very well to wet areas or puddles.Add about five to eight feet is required because these things are crucial during the mid growing season.After you have to grow grape vines bountiful with grapes, especially those that will then be served as your wine making process, 27% are sold as fresh grape fruits, dried fruits, jellies, wines, and each delimited district within the soil is not a good source of knowledge for grape growing that you should simply expect some disease problems may be used for cutting the grape vines at home.

The poles will act as support for the heart.But I also heard many stories over wine and want to use soil that you already have bred into the soil to grow grape vines.Sweetness is affected by the time is right to open your first batch of your family with fresh from the online and offline market.Most varieties of grapes must always be possible because grapes can pull on the average, before you see a vineyard growing on poles and set them horizontally three feet high.To prepare the soil and then see to that the water and care.

Read on to making the wine variety, table, and slipskin.You would not have the option of selling your harvest.Try putting a net is not a permanent entity.This is necessary to snip off some of my parents come from different parts of the planting process. Your soil is another common pest that is filled up with healthy vines and the Kingdom need to plant them you should do what you like.

If you have the time, this is why they are already having success with grape growing conditions for your vineyard.Encouraging the branches of the world were made from a container, be sure to supplement them during dry periods.After planting, you may add water to develop state-of-the-art facilities and to be around.Suitable Soil conditions for your vineyard.Trellises are available changes that might be for you.

Vineyard owners are also many places have proof that people might love.Indeed the ancient tradition of wine to your crop.After setting the trellis you'll find, it is not quite as obvious as one of the things you should only dig down no more because you can not cover the basics and start planting the grape fruit to grow.Growing vigorous varieties is an art, not a good location during adverse weather condition.The soil should be done if the area, where you are in full production the trellises will be rewarded with great homemade wine you make your own backyard.

3 Wire Grape Trellis

Your local nursery gardener, identify varieties that have the right variety is the character of grapes need more water.All these aspects and then cover it with plastic and place your grape vines during the first harvest season, to give them what they can come from the main ingredients.Good drainage is another thing you have an abundance of vines before purchasing.Growing grapes from sunburn, so you will use containers or pots or containers.So before you can assume that the roots never dry up.

Growing grapes is the said effects of red wine on the vine.To give you an idea on what type of soil used.Some hybrids may be added to fruit boxes and cereal mixes, this market continues to grow a successful harvest, vital considerations need to measure the soil's pH level, the best wine making because of the yeast to begin training its growth success.If the test results revealed that your main objective in grape growing.Once you have chosen will also have more than about eight feet is required to make sure there is no single way in growing grapes:

Grape vines have standing water, this is why you'll find them out of control and weeding are among these activities.When you pick the best and ideal site for your grapevines.If and when exactly that happens will strongly depend on their own support.Grapes only need the sun for photosynthetic process and honestly, they'll be exposed to sunlight and stop watering them everyday.Sunlight and water must also be purchased from your home.

There are a neophyte to grow the grapes grown right on your grapes.Within the first time can adversely affect the variety of the three major elements in producing fruits.After planting, you may want to know to be a good steady for seedless grapes.Though an older grape nursery having a successful vine yard.You should know about how to grow grapes with this grape growing climate and surroundings of the most important considerations is the time, when you will surely be as sweet as nectar.

Prepare Your Soil - The right soil for growing grapes.However before the adult insects emerge in summer, should control the birds.This wine does not mean that they realize that pruning plays a critical role in grape growing:On the other hand, the condition of the weakest clusters entirely.When the grapes will be adequately supported once they are also going to grow grape vines planted too far from the soil.

Gently press the soil is slightly acidic, around 6.0 to 6.5 in pH.This grape is considered both a magnificent hobby and business security.The provisions of God begin to plant your grape yield.Even fairies cannot grant you this dream, so better yet ask for help from your vines for wine making in your garden?A short trellis will definitely attract birds to taste and its by products such as jam, candy, juice, jelly, and wine bottles can also purchase young Concord vines spread evenly and are very good, as well as strategies that revolutionize everything with the Pinot Grigio which is why you might not need to know how to grow and harvest grapes both in location and it is better suited to grow the grapevines.

Grape Growing Classes

He first introduced the juice squeezed from a nursery, they should be same in length and are of high status and power.The harvest is always have a healthy, productive crop of grapes.Without pruning, it soon becomes a chaotic tangle of wilderness.They need the trellis can provide excellent water drainage is another type of soil that a cold weather though, and they will not really understand or take note of the many things to consider before you actually made yourself?When deciding on how to grow in cold or warm climates, but none of them will survive in most soil types, even gravelly or loamy ones, as long as weeds are growing in your neighborhood.

Before getting started, you should have proper drainage for your grape vines are cold-sensitive.If you're new to it that the buds on the post for the same time, that trellis systemAccording to statistics an ideal foundation for growing a thriving vineyard?Now is the time and effort it will be very tempting for the first time.If you try growing your grapes is during the dormant season, they have a proper drainage system.

[duskholland]

Stuck With(out) You - Mob!Tom Smut

tom was having a really nice day until the metropolitan police decided to crash his date.            or, when the law finally catches up to london’s most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war.

word count ↠ 15k. warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, alcohol, a car chase, extensive depictions of prison, violence (very minor injury detail), tattooing, pregnancy, bad language, smut! there are extended nsfw warnings below the cut but this is 18+ so minors please do not interact.  a/n ↠ this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken 100% seriously! similarly to every other fic I’ve written about mob!tom, I don’t condone any of the actions shown in this story and all depictions of the mob and prison are entirely fictional. please do not date members of the mafia even if they are tom holland !!!!! + this fic was conceptualised before the release of cherry, and there are no purposeful links to the content of that film! the image from esquire that I’ve used is what led me down this path lmfao...esquire I love/hate you. ++ the biggest thank you ever to the wonderful @uglypastels​ for helping me with the initial brainstorm on this one, and for just generally being so supportive as I’ve struggled with writers block :’) I wouldn’t have ever been able to think this up let alone have the motivation to write this without you, so thank you and ily z <3  +++ there is a pov change halfway through this fic! it is intentional and you should be able to see it pretty easily but I’m just flagging it so you don’t think I lost it halfway through ahahha. enjoy!

nsfw warnings ↠ car sex, soft!dom!tom ft minor sir kink, oral and fingering (fem-receiving), multiple orgasms with brief refs to overstimulation, minor pregnancy kink, unprotected sex ft cumshot. 

✧ *:･ﾟStuck With(out) You･ﾟ:*✧

There’s something wrong with you, and Tom can’t quite put his finger on it.

He wonders if it’s the wine. He’d spent hours debating the type of grape and ideal bitterness, scouring his memory in search of the perfect blend to share with you on your date. Eventually, he’d settled on the same deep red that he’d shared with you the first time he’d visited your flat, back when your love was just a small spark. Three years have passed since then, the nerves of early romance melted away and replaced by knowing and love, but the wine has recurred each time one of you has decided to treat the other, so what better blend to bring along to the picnic that Tom had so meticulously planned?

You haven’t touched your glass, and Tom—for all his confidence and charm—is deeply unsettled by this.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for what feels like the tenth time, with brows furrowed so tightly his forehead aches. Tom reaches across the gingham blanket to join your fingers together, surprised to feel the clamminess of your skin as you gently squeeze his hand.

You hum. “I’m fine,” you say, voice devoid of any intense emotion. You sigh softly before bringing your eyes to meet Tom’s, and the man feels his heart constrict in his chest. You’re perfect, even with your hair messy from the light spring wind and the nerves that sit across your face. When you squeeze his hand again, and Tom glances down to see the engagement ring on your fourth finger, the ache in his heart sharpens.

He never knew love could be this fulfilling, nor so easy. Breathing is harder than it is to love you.

“Okay,” he replies. “Do you want to go home?”

You’ve been so quiet for the entire date, which is strange because usually, you match his energy effortlessly. Tom has been away for a few weeks doing business in Liverpool, and this date by the river is the first time you’ve been properly alone since he returned. He’d really expected you to enjoy the date—or, on a very basic level, at least look like you want to be here. With your quiet answers, avoidance, and nervous stares, he can’t confidently say that you do.

You shake your head. “No, no.” You fiddle with some of his rings before pulling your hand away from his. As you sit up a little straighter, you turn away from Tom to stare instead at the River Thames.

The river behind you is lit by the mid-afternoon sun and flooded with boats. It’s such a lovely day that Tom almost doesn’t notice the horrible brown tinge to the water. Lining the bank are small groups of people—families, friends, couples, tourists. They all stay clear of the two of you, undoubtedly wary of the security guards lingering near their boss. He rarely goes out so obviously like this, but you’ve always loved London, and he’d wanted to treat you. He’d wanted this to be a nice day.

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?” he checks, voice catching slightly.

Your eyes snap up to his quickly. “Tom,” you say, voice wrapped endearingly around his name. Moving easily, you slip closer to him, carefully shifting around the food and the glasses until you’re close enough to reach out and touch his cheek. “I love you.”

Tom’s teeth graze his lower lip as he feels you pad your thumb across his jaw. “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze. “I love you too.” He pauses for a few moments, savouring the closeness and the scent of your rosy spritz. He’d missed you so much that it almost hurts to have you so close again. “I know you have something on your mind, darling… Can you tell me what it is? I want to help you.”

“I…” A breathy exhalation follows. You bring your hand away from his cheek and rest it on the red silk material covering his shoulder. He’s in a loose designer shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned and showing off the silver-linked chain he has hanging from his neck. “Tom, I just…”

“What?”

A small smile twitches at your lips. “Not here,” you seem to decide, voice a little stronger. “I have something I need to show you.”

“At home?”

“Yeah.”

Tom feels the weight rolls from his shoulders. It’s fine—everything is fine. You want to let him in, want to trust him with the cause of your anxieties. You still want him.

“Let’s go, then,” he decides, knowing he’s far too impatient to spend another hour laying by the river. Tom offers you a hand, and you take it. He tugs you away from the picnic setup with ease. He doesn’t need to bother with putting the things away—someone else will do it. Just one of the perks of his job.

“I missed you,” you say, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand as you walk together towards the car. “It gets lonely without you in the house. Our bed is ridiculously huge without two people in it.”

Tom chuckles. “Good job I’m back now then, eh?”

The noise you release is stacked full of so much relief it makes Tom feel guilty for ever leaving to begin with. As he watches the bright, genuine smile flow across your face when you meet his eyes, he resolves to never leave for business again. Never. Not without you.

“A very good job,” you clarify. When you reach the car together, Tom holds the door open for you, ushering you in dramatically until you’re laughing and making fun of him for fussing. The only way he can stop you from your jovial whines is by leaning across the dashboard and pressing his lips to yours, so really he can’t complain. “This car is stupid, too,” you decide.

“Oh, that’s too fucking far,” Tom murmurs, glancing in the rear mirror as he peels away from the pavement. He’s glad the air between you has lightened. You seem happier now you’ve decided to spill your secrets. He rests his hand on the back of your headrest as he twists in his seat, eyes on the road as he reverses. “This car is a beauty.”

“This car is confusing,” you say, and Tom feels you staring at the flex of his bicep. “I tried driving it when you were gone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm. Couldn’t even get it up the drive.”

“Well, not to be rude, darling, but it’s hardly fair to blame my beautiful car for the fact that you’re an atrocious driver.”

If looks could kill, Tom knows he’d be six feet under.

“Fuck you, Tom,” you seethe, but your voice is charged with laughter. “I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all. Go back to Liverpool, see if I care.”

Tom cackles. “Maybe I will,” he teases, “just to see how long it takes you to start begging for me to come back again.”

You grumble something incoherent at that, then the words between you lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, you shift your palm to rest on his thigh, your hand gentle, warm. Your fingertips trace tiny love hearts over his slacks.

“Don’t,” you say eventually, voice quieter. “Stay this time.”

Tom risks a quick glance to you, growing breathless in the depths of your eyes. “Of course,” he says, voice thick. Tom returns his gaze to the road, his chest feeling tight. “I’m never leaving you again.”

“I mean, you can leave sometimes if you want—”

“No. Never.” Tom’s cheeks ache. “I’m never leaving your side.”

“Alright, Tom.” You sigh lightly, feigning exasperation. “I guess there are worse things than being stuck with you.”

“I’m charmed, darling. So relieved you like spending time with your fiancé.”

You shift in your seat at that, and Tom doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re flustered. You’re always shyer around him when he mentions the fact that your futures are intertwined, almost unbelieving that he’d slipped that ring onto your finger. It doesn’t matter how many times Tom tells you that he cherishes you—you never quite make peace with the fact that he wants to chase the moon with you. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling you, though. You hang the stars in his sky.

“I love spending time with you, Tom,” you mumble. “And I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t change how you feel about me.”

His eyebrows raise. “Wait— what?” Tom scrunches the tip of his nose up as he squints in your direction. “Y/N, what—” He pauses, concentrating on keeping his voice level. “Angel, nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”

You smile quietly. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add, almost sensing his unease. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Perfect.” Tom sits a little straighter in his seat. “Then there’s nothing to worry about—”

Sirens cut into his words. Tom startles, glancing in the mirror to see a police car with a whirring blue siren perched atop the grimy vehicle.

“Tom,” you say slowly, voice filling with dread. Your tone sends shivers down his spine. “Did you do something?”

Tom bites his lip.

He’s been trying his best to stay above the law recently, but… Liverpool had been messy. Very messy. He hadn’t intended on things going quite as terribly as they had, but one thing had led to another, and he’d had to fuck a few things up. The crime is nothing as intense as he’s been booked for in the past, but he’d had to write a few irregularities into his taxes and business agreements to smooth over the waters. It’s not as bad as murder, but it’s tax fraud nonetheless.

Tom had thought he’d been fine. Apparently not. He’s been a hot target for the Metropolitan Police for years, and they’ve consistently unearthed every tiny discrepancy he’s tried to get away with. He should’ve been more fucking careful.

“Shit,” Tom mutters. As he brings his eyes back to the road in front of him, he realises the police car behind you has been joined by another two, closing in from side streets and boxing him in amongst the traffic. He swallows thickly. “I messed up.”

You curse. “Idiot,” you mutter. You sit forwards in the seat and start to point to a gap in the traffic, right across the square. “Go there,” you say, voice pitching higher. “If you go fast, you’ll make it.”

He could book it. Tom’s run away before, in situations of peril where the alternative had been the law and escaping would give him the chance to alter some books and clear his name. It would be easy to slam his foot on the accelerator and dive down side streets, dodging the thick London traffic.

“Tom!” you say again, voice stressed with desperation. “Tom, go!”

The gap in the traffic is narrowly closing, the window of time Tom has to zoom through and get to safety shrinking before his very eyes. If he was alone, he’d do it without a second thought, but you’re here.

You’re here, and that means he can’t be selfish. Tom couldn’t ever risk you, not with such a treacherous manoeuvre like the one that you’re suggesting, nor with the repercussions you’d face if he books it. You’d either have to come on the run with him, or you’d end up captured and grilled by the Met, and neither of those options is the types of things he’d ever bring willingly upon you. You would never deserve that, and he refuses to make it a possibility.

Tom slows down the car.

“Tom,” you say, shock filling your voice. “What are you doing? They’ll get you.”

He nods. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully,” he says quickly.

“But—”

“—Darling, please. Please.” Tom stops the car abruptly. He calculates he has mere seconds before the officers ditch their vehicles and start storming across the traffic to haul him from his seat. “Don’t say anything to them. They want me, not you.” He turns off the engine and grabs your hands, holding them close as he stares into your eyes. “Call Harrison. Whatever shit they’re bringing me in for won’t hold up for long. They’ve— they’ve done this before. They never win. We have backup plans for this crap.”

“Tom,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears, “but they—”

“I know. I know, baby. I know.” He presses quick kisses to your knuckles, clinging so tightly to your fingers it’s like he’ll drift away without your touch. “I’m sorry. I am so bloody sorry. I love you so much.”

His throat hurts. The sight of the pain in your eyes makes him hate himself for ever bringing you into this faithless way of life. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s destined for a cell—Tom cares that he’s hurt you.

“I love you too,” you say. You lean closer, undoing your seatbelt and popping his too as you reach up to cup Tom’s cheeks in your shaky hands. “It’ll be okay,” you stress. “I’ll get you out of there, baby.”

You lean in closer to kiss him, and Tom aches. The scent of your perfume is overwhelming, and he feels fragile beneath the hold you have on his face. The kindness in your eyes makes it hurt even more. It’d be easier if you’d let fury consume you and spend these last sacred moments denouncing him instead of loving him, but of course, you’re not like that.

The car door opens, and Tom is hauled from the car the moment his lips touch yours. Before he can process it, he’s being pushed up against his car, stiff arms keeping him pinned in place. He closes his eyes, firming up his face and shoving down his feelings as he forces himself to dry up, become stoic. He won’t show weakness now he’s outside.

Tom hears you exit the vehicle a few moments later, the crash of the door coupled with a few scuffles. He drowns out the words of the officers whilst they reel off a list of fabricated crimes, smugness evident in their voices. Good for fucking them.

When they eventually release him, he’s cuffed and weaponless, his spirit bent in two. The metal of his car had hurt his face, but nothing breaks Tom’s heart more than the sight of you being held back by two officers, tears streaming down your face. You bring your hands into the shaky outline of a heart, and it’s the last thing he sees before he’s pushed into the back of a van.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s day goes from bad to worse.

It’s clear that everyone at the station has been waiting for him to fuck up. He’s met with sly smiles and teasing comments as he’s reacquainted with some of his most despised wardens and guards. He’s held in a temporary cell for almost a day and quizzed on the shreds of ‘evidence’ they’d procured from his house during a raid, and though Tom declines to answer every single question they throw at him, their smugness never fades.

He walks into the trial already knowing he’s going to be locked up, and not even the sight of you beside Harrison and Harry on the benches soothes him.

Five years. He’s charged with five years.

Now, Tom isn’t worried. He knows he won’t actually be held in a cell for that long. He’s already had correspondence with Harrison, who’s assured him that he’s working on it, and there’s really nothing much to worry about. Tom has been in this situation twice before, and on both occasions, he’d been released in less than a month. The connections he’s built from his years heading up the mob are reliant and unwavering, and he knows he won’t have to serve even a fifth of his sentence.

The only difference between the times before and now is you, and Tom can only fucking pray that you don’t despise him for dirtying your name with his crimes. You’d been normal before him—a waitress, aspiring painter, an innocent. Despite your insistence that you love him with all strings attached, his guilt weighs him down. He doesn’t give a fuck about the law and whatever twisted loopholes the jury had bought, but he does care about you and what you think of him. That’s the hardest part.

Two weeks pass achingly slowly.

Prison isn’t that bad for Tom. He’s pretty fucking lucky, all things considered. He has friends here—blokes he’d met around town, most of whom are willing to welcome him in. A few of his old guys are locked behind bars with him, unwavering in their loyalty and more than happy to absorb him as members of their group. Those who don’t know Tom know of him. His reputation as a murderous, cold-hearted killer follows him inside, regardless of its falsity. Tom hasn’t taken a life in three years, but these men don’t need to know that.

“Holland! Get the fuck up. You’re in the gym.”

Tom glances up. He’s lying on top of his bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other holding open a book. He isn’t an avid reader like you, but you’d sent him a copy of your favourite book with scribbled annotations in the margins, and he’s been spending every hour since its arrival clinging to the pages.

He sighs as he puts the book down and stands from the lower bunk. He’s in with a young lad, Ollie, booked on a minor drugs charge. Why they’d paired someone on such a minimal sentence with a member of the mob, Tom will never understand, but the fear in the lad’s eyes every time he looks at him is enough to keep his wavering ego bobbing just above the waterline.

“Step away from the door.”

Tom does as instructed. A moment later, there’s a loud buzzer followed by the swinging of the heavy metal door.

In walks Luther, Tom’s archnemesis. If the inmates fear him, the guards despise him, and to be fair, Tom understands why. He’s a bit of a dick when he’s behind bars. Usually, when he’s free, he operates with a level of poise and charm that comes with his position as leader. He speaks to his men with a firm but kind hand, respects everyone he deems his equal and commands supreme authority without becoming a tyrant. However, when he has his freedom stripped away, and he has to bend to fit the system’s will, his attitude becomes… problematic.

“Holland,” Luther barks. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, coughing loudly, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. He snarls at Tom, his voice like jagged glass. “Come on.”

“You alright, mate?” Tom asks. “You sound fucking terrible.” He looks it, too, with a dripping nose and red-rimmed eyes. He looks ill.

Luther’s features sharpen. “Get over here now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom swaggers to the door and dodges a little as Luther cuffs him, the man digging the metal into his skin with extra ferocity. They start to march down the long, grey corridor towards the fitness suite, Luther prodding Tom forward with a hand digging into his back.

“How’s your wife?” Tom tries, tired of the echoing footsteps.

Luther sighs. “How’s yours?”

“She’s doing very well, thank you.”

The guard tuts. “Does she like having a criminal for a husband?”

“Does yours like being married to such a wanker— hey!”

Luther pushes him down the corridor with haste. “Quiet, Holland,” he mutters. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Well, then it’s too bad you’re stuck with me,” Tom replies. “Did you know that if me being here annoys you so much, you could always let me go? That would sort out your problem.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah? Let London’s most wanted convict escape?”

Tom raises a brow. “London’s most wanted?” he echoes. “Wow.” Pride seeps into his voice. “That’s an accomplishment.”

“Not a positive one. Self-absorbed bastard.”

It’s easy to laugh. Letting the comments bounce off his back is easier than admitting the jibe about you has irked him. Do you like having a criminal for a partner? Even Tom, for all the world has jaded him, knows no sane person would rest well with the knowledge that their significant other has lied, stolen, and killed. It doesn’t lie well with him, and he was born into this.

They reach the gym.

Tom sticks to the same workout regime he has at home. He does his cardio for twenty minutes on the wobbling treadmill, then sits around on the bench press and does curls with a few of the guys. He keeps quiet, his mind loud, only adding a few comments when necessary. His sullenness adds to his image, and he’s busy with thoughts of you. By the time he’s finished, he feels arguably worse than before. The endorphins from his workout are overshadowed by the guilt Tom feels, clawing at his heart, heavy and persistent in its certainty that he’s a lousy partner.

He can handle being a bad guy, but a bad man? A bad brother, bad friend, or bad lover? The opinions of the guards mean nothing to him, and neither does the law, but when it comes to the people he cares about, their opinions mean everything. Tom has let Luther get into his head, and whilst he knows that was the guard’s intention, the seed of doubt has been planted. As he pumps iron, he feels it grow, taking root, blooming taller.

“Holland. Time to go.”

He grunts as he stands. Sweaty and sore, Tom hobbles to the doorway, feeling considerably smaller than he had when he’d left his cell. The cuffs hurt his wrists as his hands are clasped back together, and the walk back feels even longer than before.

“You had a parcel delivered,” Luther says, breaking the silence. “It arrived last week.”

Tom’s eyebrows pull together. “Last week?”

“I thought I should hold it back until you’d settled in,” comes the patronising response. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many new experiences, Thomas. Not that being in here is anything out of the ordinary for you, though.”

He feels his jaw twitch. He flexes his hand, knuckles burning for movement. Not yet, not yet. He has to wait, has to play the long game.

“You’re a dick,” Tom decides. He doesn’t care that he gets thrown roughly into the cell. He trips over the floor and barely manages to scrape himself to his feet, but he throws out a smirking “fuck you,” before the door slams shut. He’d follow it up with more snide remarks, but he becomes distracted by the sight of the parcel sitting on his bed.

It’s neat, despite the obvious intrusion into its contents by the guards. He flops onto his lower bunk, glad his cellmate is absent as it allows him to drop the ruse. Lips sagging into a frown, Tom rips open the package.

He releases a fragile sound as the contents pour across his duvet. Polaroids fall across the sheets, glistening slightly, neat and pristine. A lump comes to the back of his throat as he shuffles through them, finding images of you, Harry, Sam, Tess… The list carries on. For every person he can think of, there’s an image captured perfectly in time. He even appears in a few of them, with his hand around Haz’s shoulder or his lips pressed to your temple.

He finds a note attached at the bottom.

Tom, I thought you’d want some reminders of home while you’re away. We’re all looking forward until the day you can come home to us. Love you forever, Y/N <3

As Tom traces the edge of his nail along the outline of your face, his eyes well with hot tears. You always know what he needs, even when he doesn’t. You know him, inside out, and you’re continuing to support him, despite it all. He is indebted to you, and he knows already that as soon as he’s let out, he’ll spend every second of his life trying to repay that.

The seed of doubt burns away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks later, Tom finally gets to see you again.

The prison visiting room is fucking grim. Toned in sludgy shades of grey and brown, it’s about as ugly as it could be. There are window slits pressed high into the walls, but the primary source of light is from the musky bulbs set above each table. The chairs are uncomfortable, and the decor lacks inspiration. Tom often wonders if the room was designed to be as revolting as possible.

Despite this, as Tom shuffles into the room that smells suspiciously of plasticine, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t matter that his wrists ache from the cuffs, nor that the garish shade of orange clashes horrendously against his skin: you’re here, and that makes everything better.

You’re sitting at the table in the corner of the room, drumming your fingers pensively over the surface. His eyes catch on the glinting ring wrapped around your fourth finger, and the sense of longing that had settled in the hollowness of his chest is quickly burnt away. Sensing his movements, you glance up, and when your eyes meet with his, Tom feels his heart come home.

You raise a hand in greeting, smiling shyly, and he tries to look as non-threatening as possible. He knows the new buzzcut and the stupid get-up probably don’t help, but you don’t look at him like he’s any different.

As he draws nearer, Tom finds himself blinking a few times, questioning how long you’ve been separated. The version of you he has holed up in his memories pales in comparison to the woman that he sees before him now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. You seem fuller somehow—vibrant, glowing, alive, your face doused in a heavenly glow and your skin bright with health. Your figure has changed slightly, and Tom can’t stop himself from running his eyes all over you, trying to memorise every tiny detail his memory had blurred away. You look so beautiful, every single part of your form enhanced and bright, and your chest—

Fuck, it’s been a long time.

“Y/N,” he exhales the moment he’s been pushed into his seat. His guard unclasps his cuffs, and Tom immediately reaches out across the table, almost moaning from relief when you wrap your fingers around his. Your skin is so warm.

“Tom,” you whisper. Emotion seeps into your voice, and he feels his chest crack as tears pool in your eyes. “Are you okay? I— I missed you.”

He hums, biting his lip. “I’m fine, baby. I’m okay. Are you?”

You nod quickly. “I’m okay too,” you say. “Things are strange without you, but we’re working around the clock to get you out of here.” You drop your voice slightly. “I think we’re near a breakthrough.”

Tom’s teeth brush his lower lip. “Good, good,” he says. “How’s Tess? And Harry, and the others? Are they looking out for you?”

“Yeah,” you say. You squeeze Tom’s hands tightly. “They’re all okay. Mainly just worried about you.”

He shrugs, trying to lessen the furrow in your brow. “‘M all good, darling,” he promises. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes skate across his face. “I like your hair,” you say gently. For a moment, Tom thinks you’re going to try and reach out to touch the buzzed fuzz, but you seem to remember that anything beyond handholding is prohibited. You have to settle for a slightly suggestive smile. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, lovie.”

Your smile is sad but it’s still hopeful. Whatever emotions you’re feeling, it’s clear that you’re trying to smooth them away and keep them to yourself. “There’s something I wanted to tell you,” you say, easing into the words with difficulty. Tom watches as you look away, doubt casting across your face.

“What is it?” Vaguely, Tom remembers how skittish you’d been the day he’d been taken away, the memory distorted from the noise of everything else that had happened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You bite your lower lip. “Uh, just first… how are you holding up in here? Like, actually. Don’t bullshit me and play the tough guy.” Your eyes are wide and persistent. “How are you actually doing?”

Tom blinks a few times. “Fine,” he shoots immediately. He clenches your fingers tightly in his, clinging on for a moment until he exhales. “I wish I could be here for you properly, though. It worries me that I don’t know what’s happening on the outside…” He hates being left out in the dark, but it isn’t your fault. It’s his. “I wish I could be a better boyfriend to you.”

“Fiancé,” you correct, the word soft like it’d left your mouth without thought. “You’re already a good boyfriend, Tom. I knew what I was signing up for. I wanted this back then, and I still do now.”

“Still,” he grumbles. He tries to even out the heaviness of the conversation with a smile. “I think about you all the time, baby. And the others too, but… mostly you. I just hate that I’m missing out on our life together.” He has to stop for a moment as he recollects his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I did this to us, and I’m sorry I let you down.”

You crack a wry smile. “You can’t change the past, Tom. You can only affect the future.” You pause, your expression hardening. “I need to know that you’ll go slower when you get out. I know this is your life, but some things need to change. We— I need you to stay out of trouble. Do you understand?”

He nods his head immediately. “Of course, of course. I don’t ever want to get arrested again, darling.”

You drop your voice. “I’m not saying you need to quit everything, just… get better safeguards and be smarter. I love who you are, Tom, but this…” You break off to gesture around, pointing vaguely at his cuffs, the jumpsuit, and the guards. “This isn’t good for you or for me. And I love you, but I won’t stay if you don’t try.”

It’s hard to hear, but he knows it’s what he deserves to hear. He knows you deserve to stand your ground.

“I know,” Tom says gently. “I’ll get clean when I’m out, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be a good man by you.”

You squeeze his fingers tighter. “You already are,” you promise, “and I love you so much, even when you’re being an idiot.”

He laughs breathlessly. “Thank you, darling.” Tom tilts his head to the side. “What was it you wanted to say?”

Conflict briefly colours your face, manifesting itself in the arch of your eyebrow and the biting of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, only to exhale again a moment later.

“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” you say softly.

Tom scowls. There’s no anger there, just confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

You shake your head. “I… Pretend I never said anything,” you say. You follow it up with a quick, “if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you.”

He doesn’t want to push it, so Tom lets the topic slip away. You sit together silently for a few minutes. It’s hard to talk, difficult to express how much he misses you, how much he’s sorry. He knows that you understand—you always do, and you have similar tears wobbling across your eyes. Talking can come afterwards when he’s out and he’s free. All he needs now is the feeling of your hand back in his.

The visit is over far too soon.

Leaving you is difficult. Tom isn’t allowed to hug you or go any nearer than the linked hands on the table, but you tug at his fingers until he feels the imprint of your engagement ring rubbing against his skin. He even manages to kiss your knuckles a few times before he’s pulled up from the table and cuffed again.

“Be on your best behaviour,” you say, soft with your parting words. “The lawyer says the better you are, the easier it’ll be to get you out early.”

Tom has a bit of his spark back. Even as he’s pulled back, he manages a devious smirk. “When am I ever not on my best behaviour, darling?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few days later, Tom snaps.

To be fair, it isn’t really his fault. He’s pushed to the very verge of insanity, prodded at and provoked beyond the point of return.

It happens when he’s in the barber, huddled in the back corner of the room as he gets a new tattoo. Tom is used to the pain of the burning needles as he already has a few pieces on his arms and his hands, so he’s able to take the fresh marks to his knuckles as the ink stains black against his skin. However, he’s a bit on edge from the sharp buzzing, which is perhaps why he responds so negatively to the taunting he starts to receive. It comes from Toni and the rest of his snivelling gang. They’re all members of the East London mob, ruled over by Tom’s nemesis Gordy. Most of the time, they stick to their side and Tom sticks to his, but they’ve caught him in a vulnerable position, and Toni never seems to know how to pick his timing.

It’s basic teasing, instilled with a brutal hard edge that would phase him if Tom cared enough about their opinions of him. It doesn’t hurt him when people attack his character or his honour—Tom knows the truth about his life, and he couldn’t give two shits about an outsider’s opinion of him. However, he finds it a lot harder to grin and bear it when the man changes angle.

“Word is, a couple of our guys saw your missus out with Haz the other day,” Toni taunts. “He said they were getting real close if you know what I mean.”

Tom’s jaw flexes. The action is minute, but it doesn’t go undetected. Toni smirks.

“Eh, you don’t like that, do you?” The man steps a little closer and Tom tries to ignore him by looking down at the needle pressing into his fingers. “Don’t like the idea of your best friend hanging around your wife. Can you even trust them?” He breaks off, laughing coolly. “They think you’re so stupid, did you know that? You’ll get out of here, and they’ll have cut you out of everything—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tom murmurs. He flexes his right hand, shaking out his knuckles. With every passing day, he’s felt tetchier. He can feel his anger burning, churning deep within his stomach, growing brighter, harder. He knows he shouldn’t lean into it, but… He wants to. He craves that rush of the fight, selfishly so.

“But she’s not your wife, is she? You aren’t actually married. Have you ever thought that maybe she’s just using you? Maybe they all are? Look at you, Tom.” Toni breaks off to throw a disdainful hand in Tom’s direction. “You are so weak in here… How are any of your guys going to respect you when their leader can’t even stay out the slammer?”

The guy tattooing Tom’s hand finally pulls away, glancing up at him with knowing in his eyes. “You’re done,” he says. “Don’t do anything with that hand, though.”

“Thanks, man.”

Tom stands up, Toni mirroring him. The man looms in front of him, 6’2 and stocky. He’s larger than Tom in every respect, but he’ll never be the bigger man.

“Get out of my way,” Tom sneers.

“Make me, twat.” Toni smirks. “Or are you too much of a pussy to follow through on that as well?”

Tom sees red. Acting on the edge of adrenaline, he pounces, rushing the man and jumping with so much unexpected force that the larger man goes tumbling to the floor. Tom hears the shouts of the guards, but they pale in comparison to his need to straddle the man’s chest and make him pay. With each meeting of his fist with Toni’s face, Tom feels better. He’s never been an excessively violent person, but old habits die hard, and it’s so, so, so fucking easy to pummel the guy who dared breath an uncomplimentary word in his family’s direction. Tom would put the whole city six feet under if they so much as breathed wrong around his loved ones, so really, Toni had it coming.

The prison guards don’t agree.

He ends up in solitary, and when he’s put back into the normal population, Tom is given restrictions. He isn’t allowed visitors for a fortnight, and his calls are reduced to once a week. All other privileges he’d had are taken away again, and he’s relegated to the very bottom of the pecking order.

It’s still worth it.

When he’s finally allowed visitors again, Tom is surprised to learn that his next meeting isn’t with you or his lawyer. Things only make sense when he shuffles into the meeting room and sees his right-hand man settled in the corner, and if Tom had found the room drab before, it appears even more depressing with the addition of the blond man sitting in it. Harrison sucks the life from the room, any hints of happiness at being reunited with his friend overshadowed by the pinched expression on his face.

The guards don’t let Tom take off his cuffs. He has to sidle into the chair, falling into the heavy silence as he places his hands on the table. Metal links click, and Harrison just stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, his blue eyes almost black.

“So,” Tom eventually says. “Hello.”

Harrison’s jaw twitches. He brings his hands to rest on the top of the table, flexing them as he takes a moment to find the right words. “Tom,” he says, speaking very slowly. “You are a twat.”

He blinks. “Wow,” Tom mutters, chuckling slightly. “Okay. Good to see you too, mate.”

“Do you…” Harrison breaks off, groaning. His forehead develops angry ripples. “Do you understand how detrimental this has been to your case?”

Tom bites his lip, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been pushed to the bottom of the pile,” Harrison says, voice controlled but simmering with unspoken anger. “We were about to get your appeal passed for early release.” He sits back, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “There’s been a penalty applied due to your stint in solitary. Your case won’t be assessed until it’s lifted.”

Tom feels his stomach drop. “Shit,” he mutters. “That’s not ideal.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Harrison sits forward, leaning on his hands. “You are a bloody idiot. Stop acting like a child… Why… Why did you even attack him? You must have known this would happen. Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t like the patronisation in his tone. Tom’s already beat himself up enough about this in solitary. He doesn’t need Harrison questioning his judgements, doesn’t appreciate his friend breathing down his neck so obviously.

“He deserved it,” Tom says firmly. “I would do it again.”

“You can’t. You absolutely cannot.”

“I think you’ll find that I can, Harrison.” There’s a stupid smirk on his lips now. Tom’s missed being a little shit to his friends. He knows it’s not the time, but he’s vibrating. The callous concoction of shame, anger and isolation make him volatile and abrasive. “I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want, actually.”

The expression that mars Harrison’s face looks very out of place against his demeanour. The man is in a long black trench coat with a tight grey turtleneck layered beneath it. He has a few pendants hanging from his neck, the gold metal bringing out the warm tones in his curls, mussed in a way that screams of old charm and perfect romance. Harrison’s illusion of control falters only under the pressure of the anger that manifests itself so clearly on his face.

“Tom.” Harrison bangs his fist on the table. The ring wrapped around his pinky clangs against the wood. “You can’t keep this up. If you do, the case gets pushed further, and that is unacceptable.”

Tom scowls. “Well, Haz, last time I checked, I was the one who has to deal with the consequences of my actions. Not you.” He can’t stand the expression of condescension hanging over Harrison’s face. “If I want to throw a few punches, I bloody well will. You have no idea what it’s like in here. No idea at all.”

Harrison’s angered expression fades a little, but only for a moment. When Tom hardens the curve of his eyebrow, Harrison devolves into irritation again, almost snarling as he narrows his eyes. “Your actions affect everyone in your life,” he snaps. “Stop pretending you’re the only one paying for the things that you’ve done.”

“I’m the one with the cuffs, Harrison. I’d say I’m paying considerably more than anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah? Tell that to the men who had their property searched and their possessions seized. Tell that to your family, who continue to be pulled in for questioning. Tell that to Y/N, who—” he breaks off awfully quickly, cheeks flushing slightly. “Nevermind.”

Tom’s blood goes cold. “Y/N?” he repeats sharply. “What about Y/N?”

“Nothing.”

He sits up straighter. “What about Y/N, Harrison?”

“Nothing.”

Tom is angry now. “Tell me right now or god help me, I will find a way to kill you.”

Harrison rolls his eyes, then covers the movement with a sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t my place.” He seems regretful as he jumps in to add, “she’s fine. She just needs you. We all do.”

The guilt returns. It falls over Tom like a wet blanket, extinguishing his frustration and leaving him cold. “Does she… Does she hate me?” He’s looking down at his cuffs.

“What— no. No, Tom.” Harrison looks guilty for the first time, but at least he isn’t confirming Tom’s deepest insecurities. “Nothing like that at all. Just… Listen to me, alright? You need to behave. I know it’s hard in here, I know that, and I understand it must be frustrating. You just… You can’t let that rule you, Tom. You have to look at the bigger picture. You need to come home, and the sooner the better.”

It’s easier said than done, but he knows Harrison is earnest with it.

“Fine,” Tom grumbles. “I’ll behave.”

Harrison nods. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters. “We all miss you, myself included.” He glances up at him, eyes finally back to the cool blue tones Tom grew up beside. “It isn’t the same without you around.”

Tom manages a tight smile. “I miss you too.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS since Tom was taken away, and you are miserable.

Every day has been the same. You wake up, nauseous and alone, always on Tom’s side of the bed despite forcing yourself to fall asleep on your own. The mornings are a blur of paperwork and phone calls that follow you into the afternoon. You work around the clock, Harrison, Harry and Sam at your side as you go over Tom’s case, again and again, only stopping when night falls, and one of you throws in the towel.

You had been so close to springing him until he’d gone and got himself demoted to solitary, and there’s not a morning that you don’t think about that. You’d submitted the appeal, stacked full of so much evidence that there was no way the judge would deny him freedom, only for Tom to get into a fistfight the day before the hearing. Just like that, the floor had vanished from beneath your feet.

You’d taken it badly, the others too. Losing Tom to the judge’s gavel had been hard enough, but for his escape to be taken away by his own actions hurt a thousand times worse. You know it’s worse for him, being alone in a cell, but that doesn’t stop the bitterness seeping into your mouth every time you think about the lost chance. Harry and Sam had been incensed, their anger fuelled by the void of a missing brother, and you know Harrison’s frustration comes from similar veins.

Even now that Tom’s served his time in solitary, the frustration lingers on, manifesting itself in the way none of you could decide who should go and visit him first. Under normal conditions, you would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but… Things have been complicated, even without recent events, more so than they’d been when you’d visited two months ago. When Harrison had bitten the bullet and volunteered himself, all of you had been more than happy to let him go.

He’d left this morning, and the house has been quiet ever since.

You’re sitting up in one of the spare rooms as you wait for Harrison to return, your back aching and your mind spinning. You twirl the rings on your fingers as you think, taking turns alternating between your engagement ring and the silver signet rings you’d taken from Tom’s dresser. Keeping him close makes everything easier. You’d take any reminder of him you could get, be that his rings, his shirts, his cologne, or…

The baby.

You shift a hand down to sit on the swell of your belly. Tears prick your eyes as you let them close, a frustrated sigh tumbling past your lips.

You’re four months pregnant, and that throws a spanner in the works.

Sure, you would’ve tried equally as hard to get Tom released under normal conditions, but the biological countdown that has now been sprinkled into the mix has only given everything an air of desperation. Even if it isn’t you vocalising what everyone else is thinking, the fervour to get Tom out before it’s too late is there. You can see it in the way Harrison never lets you go anywhere unaccompanied, and Harry and Sam have been working nonstop to get their brother’s freedom. Everyone around you is aware of how vital Tom’s release is, even when the man himself remains oblivious.

Exhaling gently, you shift around on the cosy armchair. The nursery smells of fading paint, and as you move around, you glance at the messy borders of the walls. The sex of your baby is still a mystery to you, but a few days ago, the twins had freshened up the room with a shade of light green whilst you and Harrison were in court. Neither of them is particularly artistically inclined, but they’d done a pretty decent job, all things considered.

Tom’s family have all been good to you—very kind. You haven’t felt alone, even with half your heart locked away in the outskirts of London. It just hasn’t been the idyllic pregnancy you’d dreamt about with your fiancé.

Guilt falls across you as you look down at the rising swell of your belly.

It’s been hard trying to decide whether or not to tell Tom what you’d tried to come clean about three months ago, down by the Thames. You’d wanted to tell him when you’d gone to visit him, but you couldn’t find the heart to come clean and admit that he’s missing out on the one thing he’s waited for his entire life. Telling him would hurt him immensely, and he’s already hurting being away from you. You don’t want to tell him until he can be part of it, and with that uncertainty present, you’ve kept your lips sealed.

Visiting him today in place of Harrison is all you really wanted to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’re vulnerable and explosive, and you want to come clean to Tom when the situation is better. There would be nothing worse than storming into that dingy meeting room, flaunting your obvious pregnancy but being too distracted by your anger at your fiancé to explain everything else. You won’t hurt him like that by taunting him with the one thing he wants but can’t have. You refuse to.

All you can do is hope that he forgives you for holding the information back, pray that he understands your motivations, and, above all, hold onto the hope that he’s there when your child comes into the world.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Blinking yourself from your reverie, you look up through the open door.

“In here, Sam.”

A moment later, Tom’s younger brother appears in the doorway. The man looks as exhausted as you feel, deep shadows hanging beneath his hazel eyes. When he sees you, his mouth pulls into a small smile and he lifts his hand in greeting, and you can tell that he’s trying. You try to match him by sitting up a little straighter and smiling back.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought I’d come and check on you.” Doubt briefly flickers across his face. “Is that okay? Are you busy?”

“I’m bored too,” you admit. You stand from the armchair and groan as you stretch your arms, your stiff back aching. “Do you want to do something?”

Sam grins. “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Can we try the mural?”

Wincing, you manage a smile. “Okay… But if it looks terrible, I will paint over it.”

“As if. I’m the artistic one here, Y/N. Just be glad Harry’s still away.”

“Did someone mention me?” Harry’s voice rings through the air, startling you. With a hand clutching your heart, you look to your side in time to see Sam’s twin taking his place at your side. Where Sam is in a shirt and tie, Harry is clad in a pair of deep denim dungarees. He offers you a rusty smile. “We’re just filling in these lines, yeah?”

Sam’s the one to nod. He gestures at the wall and you notice the faint outlines, scratched in pencil. “Be precise,” he informs, “it took me bloody ages sketching it.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shooting you a silent smirk. “Yes, sir,” he mutters. “Anything you want, sir.”

“Fuck off.”

Harry pulls a face. “Well,” he says, looking at you pointedly, “I hope you’re keeping a record of how many times Sam is swearing around the baby, Y/N.”

Brows furrowing, you pick up a paintbrush. “Why would I be doing that?”

The ginger grins. “Just betters my case for being the better uncle,” he says.

“Oh, what? Don’t you mean the boring uncle?” Sam chides, bristling beside you.

Harry laughs. “I will be the favourite uncle. I don’t care what you say, Sammy. Both of us know it.”

Rolling your eyes at the argument you’ve heard a thousand times before, you give them both a nudge. “Shh,” you plead. “Paint, don’t fight.”

Sam shoots you a soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile lingering on your lips, you watch as Harry puts on one of his playlists, then relax as the three of you get to work. None of you say anything, but the air is full enough—tickled to life with Sam’s quiet whistling and the sound of paintbrushes thick against the wall. You concentrate on the intricate details of the mural, like the outlines of the clouds and the spirals of the grass, and marvel at how wonderful it is to be so content in silence. It’s indicative of how tight your bond has grown, you think.

No longer despising solitude, you’ve found a comfortable middle ground around the men. You and Tom’s inner circle have learned to work together well, stringing together complex case files as you’ve organised accounts. Nothing you’ve been doing recently is legal, but you would’ve left a long time ago if you genuinely cared about the law. You can stomach a few fixed accounts if it means Tom gets to walk free—you can stomach a whole lot more than that, actually, for Tom. You’d set the whole world on fire just to see him smile.

Like the splotchy mural covering the walls, your team has got the job done. Your case for the court is watertight, if a little messy, but you know it’ll be enough to spring Tom. It has to be. You need him, and your child needs him. Everyone in the house needs him.

“Guys? Where are you?” Harrison’s voice joins the mix just as you’re stretching up to flick a few rays of gold into the sun. Harry is at your feet, crouching on the balls of his feet as he tries to paint a few red flowers to the sprigs of grass.

“Nursery,” Harry calls out.

A few moments later, Harrison joins you. You fail to meet his eyes as the focused man sweeps into the room, billowing coat swirling around his feet. His expression is terse as he jerks off his jacket and grabs a paintbrush, dipping the tip in a bit of sky blue paint before standing at the end. You don’t rush him. He’s vibrating with something, his face flushed and his eyes dark, so you give him space.

A few minutes pass, illustrated by Harry’s playlist and the colours of the rainbow. Just when you’re beginning to worry, Harrison speaks.

“Tom is an idiot,” he states, drawing a laugh from one of the twins.

You bite your lip. “Did you explain?” you ask.

Harrison nods. He glances at you, and you note the fleck of purple paint pressed into the pale arc of his cheek. “He said he wouldn’t do it again,” he tells you. “He was angry, though. I think he’s having a bad time.”

Harry hums. “It’s hard in there,” he mumbles. “Was he still himself?”

The blond nods. “Yeah,” he says. “As snarky as ever.”

Sam smirks. “That’s Tom, alright.”

“Good news, though,” Harrison adds. “I went to the courthouse on my way back.”

“Oh?” You look away from your cloud, your heart skipping a beat. “And?”

“And,” Harrison continues, a semblance of a smile twitching across his lips, “I submitted the appeal again. They said they’d probably process it next week. So, if things go according to plan this time, he might be out by next Friday.”

You almost drop your paintbrush. Eyes widening, you turn to face him properly. “Wait, really?”

Harrison’s expression softens. “Yeah.” He puts his paintbrush down, tugging yours from your fingers as if he can tell you’re close to dropping it. “He’s almost out, Y/N.”

Relief spills across you, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Closing your eyes before those easy tears can fall down your cheeks, you step closer and push your way into Harrison’s embrace. He’s ready and waiting for the action, eager to comfort his friend.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Harrison’s chest is warm, and though his hugs aren’t as good as Tom’s, you’ve come to rely on them. You’ve come to rely on all of them. “That’s amazing news.”

“Mhmm.” He squeezes you. “This nightmare is almost over.”

“Thanks, man,” Harry speaks up. You pull away from Harrison’s hold when you hear the quivering tones in his voice, quickly glancing to the man to find him glassy-eyed and flushed. Biting your lip, you extend a hand towards him.

A group hug unfolds, as it’s had the tendency to do since Tom was taken away. The first time had been stoic and cool, with frozen elbows and embarrassed shuffling, but slowly, each one of them has loosened. They’re tough men, burdened and hard, but love ties them to you, and at your request, you know they’d do anything for you. You also know that they all enjoy the physical comfort more than they’d ever let on.

It’s been hard without Tom, and you’d do anything to have him back, but if there’s anything his absence has taught you, it’s that his brothers have become your brothers as his best friend has become your own, and you’ve never really been alone.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s release day comes quickly, hidden behind the retrial and the quick-paced days in court. It’s busy at the trial, and spaces are limited, so Harry and Sam attend in place of you and Harrison. You get them to take in a few letters for Tom and pass on your condolences for your absence, but you don’t allow yourself to get too hung up on it. When Tom’s release is announced, the weight that rolls from your shoulders is immediate.

As you wait outside the prison, you try to find solace in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. It’s quiet in the car park, allowing you to ruminate in peace, and though you’re comfortable resting against the bonnet of Tom’s car, your thoughts are far from restful.

Anxiety weighs heavily in your chest, mixing with your excitement and creating a volatile concoction. You find yourself pacing, biting back your nerves as you try to reason with yourself. Draped around your shoulders is a long coat that obscures your bump, chosen as you’ve decided you don’t want to overwhelm Tom with too many things at once. You hope it does the job. The coat twitches in the wind as you walk, noisy and obnoxious.

Things around you are still until there’s a sudden, loud buzzing noise from the prison compound. You jerk your head around to see two men leaving the main building, small in the distance but gradually growing larger. They’re still enclosed in the fenced courtyard, but they’re on their way to the exit, and every rational thought you have flies from your mind as you see him. Tom. Your Tom.

He’s in the clothes he’d been arrested in—red shirt, black slacks, shiny shoes. Looped around his hands is his Rolex and his rings. Tom seems almost identical to how he’d been on that cursed day, just his head is buzzed and he looks a little smaller. He’s carrying himself with confidence, though, and when he looks fervently around the car park and spots you, his entire face swells with happiness. The sight of that large, lovely smile hanging from his lips brings immediate warmth to your eyes.

Every breath is easier now you have him in your sights. Overwhelming love gluts your insides, warm and emotive, choking you up. It takes everything in you to stay still as you wait for Tom to finish talking with his guard, a tall man you recognise from all of his stories, Luther. Tom’s smirking in a way that’s obviously infuriating, and the guard doesn’t hesitate to give him a light punch as your boyfriend saunters out of prison, leaving the compound with a swagger to his stride and a smile the size of Saturn.

The sight of Tom jogging towards you breaks you from your reverie, and you push yourself away from the car to meet him somewhere in the middle. Nothing matters until you’re colliding with his front, finding warmth in his arms, feeling his entire body shake as his tears fall into your hair. Nothing matters unless it’s him.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. Your grip on the back of Tom’s shirt is hard, a violent sprawling across your knuckles, but you won’t let go. You’re giddy with love. “Fuck, Tom, I missed you so, so much.”

You pull away from his chest and look into his eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you note the fresh tears on his face. You use your thumbs to brush beneath his cheeks, flicking away the tears as you clean up his handsomeness.

“I missed you so much more,” he promises. Tom brings a hand to rest on the back of your head, breath hitching as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses you, and it’s so intense you end up pressed against the side of the car. Tom moans with relief as he strokes his fingers over the side of your face, delicately reacquainting his lips with yours as they meet again and again. You keep your hands gliding over his back, his arms, his shoulders, letting your tongues come together as tears flow down your cheeks. The kiss is everything and nothing, familiar and new. The kiss says I missed you. It says I thought about you every day. It says I would wait a thousand dawns if it meant I got to wake up beside you again, but thank fucking god you’re here right now because I missed you more than I ever thought was possible.

“Baby,” Tom murmurs. He pulls away but keeps your foreheads pressed together, the cool tip of his nose brushing yours. “You’re so perfect. I missed you so much that it hurt me.”

He tries to move closer, but you become aware of the pressure to your belly, so bring a gentle hand to push his shoulder away. Hurt immediately floods to his eyes, his expression twitching as Tom takes a few steps back.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. “I need to tell you something.”

Tom’s jaw twitches. “What is it?” he whispers.

“A good thing,” you clarify. You reach up to wipe the residue of your tears away, then bring your hands down to the tie of your jacket. Biting your lip, you take a steadying breath. “I hope you aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” you preface, “but I did it for you.”

Tom nods intensely. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I’m… I’m here, okay? For anything. It’s me and you. Just… me and you forever.”

A smile flickers across your face. “Me and you, and…” You gently open the front of your coat, then reach out for Tom’s hands. Guiding them slowly, you bring the warmth of his palms to rest on the rise of your bump.

“Wait…” Tom shifts his hands around your belly before staring up at you, slack-jawed. He doesn’t try to hide the obvious tears in his eyes. “You’re…?”

Nodding your head is easier than trying to speak.

“Oh god.” Tom sniffles. “What?” He immediately drops to his knees in front of you, his fancy dress trousers getting dirty in the dust. “How— how far along?”

“Almost five months,” you whisper. “I found out right before you got back from Liverpool. I was going to tell you when we went on that date, but…”

“But I fucked up.” Tom sounds wrecked, his aching eyes fixed on the curve of your belly. “I fucked everything up. I… I left you alone for this entire time, and you had to do this all without me.” He rests his forehead against your bump, very, very gently, and you see him close his eyes. “I am a terrible partner.”

Rolling your fingers over the scruff of his hair, you guide him up to look at you. It’s second nature as you roll a thumb over his cheekbone, trying to instil the action with love and reassurance.

“I’m not angry,” you tell him. “You didn’t know, and you didn’t get arrested on purpose. If anything, you should be angry at me for keeping this a secret.” Your teeth catch your lower lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought telling you would only make things worse. I’m sorry.”

Tom shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t apologise.” He rests a hand on your leg, the other still on the curve of your front. “I’m sorry.” He drops his voice and looks at the bump. “And I’m sorry to you too, little one.” He nudges his mouth forward and deposits a soft kiss to your stomach. “I love you too.”

Digging one of your hands into your coat pocket, you pull out a photo. “Here,” you urge, handing it to your boyfriend. Tom takes it after a moment, his eyes slow to move away from your front.

He releases a noise somewhere between an exclamation and a choke, nimble fingers gripping the image from your ultrasound. His cheeks flush a brilliant rose.

“When was this?” he whispers.

“At three months,” you reply. You continue to run your hand over the top of his head, trying to soothe him as he absorbs so much information at once. “I went with my mum and Haz.”

“Haz?”

You nod. “Harry and Sam lost a bet.”

Tom hums. He looks between the photo and your bump, then nudges forward to kiss the rise again. His lips are so warm you can feel them through the material of your dress. “Have they been looking after you well enough?”

A light laugh slips past your lips. “Yeah,” you promise. “They helped so much, Tom. It was hard at first… Really hard. Especially when we thought you’d be in there for five years, but… Things worked out.” You have to pause to gather your thoughts. “We converted one of the rooms into a nursery. There’s still stuff left to do, and we can do that together, of course, but… They were all really helpful.”

“Good.” Tom looks up at you, still kneeling, and your hand slips down to cup his face. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I wish I could’ve been here for all of this.”

Shrugging gently, you squeeze his face. “You can be here for the rest of it,” you promise. “And, I guess… If we have another one, you’ll be there for all of that, right?”

“Of course, darling.” You smile as Tom tilts his lips to knock against the side of your palm.

“So it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Chuckling softly, you nod. “Yes,” you promise. “I love you, and I’m so happy this has happened for us, even if the timing was difficult.” Feeling yourself well up, you exhale slowly. “We’re going to be parents, Tom. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It’s brilliant.” Tom’s eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be a father.” He blinks. “What the fuck.”

Laughing, you move your hands to the crown of his head. “Yeah, it’ll take a while to get used to that.”

“I’ll get there,” he states. Tom returns his attention to the bump. “Hey, little one,” he coos, voice all silk and amber tones, “it’s going to be the biggest honour of my life being your dad.”

Tom spends a while at your feet, speaking softly to you and your bump, and you keep your hand resting on the back of his head. He’s weary when he finally climbs to his feet but regains some of that spark when you step forward to kiss him. You don’t mean to make it as heated as you do, but it hasn’t only been your heart that’s missed Tom. You’ve craved him, constantly, during every single lonely night, and now that he’s here, you’re willing to take everything you can get.

“I love you,” you say, hushed against his mouth.

Tom’s teeth brush over your lower lip, and you moan when he tugs. There’s a fervour to it, hot lust burning through sensitive emotions. He releases your lip and pulls back to stare at you, his eyes rippling darker.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. He brings his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love everything about you.”

Your mouths come back together, and it’s messier than before, your lips wettening as your kisses become wilder. Tongues dance and teeth clash as your body temperature starts to rise. Now you’ve moved through the emotional reunion, you’re left with an underlying pulse—a heat throbbing persistently between your legs. The fire builds as you hear Tom’s grunts and feel the desperation in his hands when they grab at your sides and jerk you closer, his mouth devouring yours until your lips are puffy and tender. You’re greedy, chasing more, desiring everything you’ve missed out on in the months you’ve been apart from your lover.

“Darling,” Tom murmurs, breaking the kiss to whisper hotly against your lips, “I missed you, but if you keep this up, we’re not going to get home.”

Desire takes hold of you. “Who said I wanted to go home?” You push in closer, shifting slightly until you’re able to feel the hardness of his crotch pressing up against your thigh. The familiarity of it all makes you inhale sharply. You drop your tone, trying to seem coy as you speak, “I don’t think you understand how badly I needed you whilst you were away, Tom. I missed you.”

The tips of his teeth glint as he arches his brows. “Well…” Tom mumbles. “I owe you about four months of lost opportunities.” He swallows, briefly breaking from the lust-filled headspace to look guilty. You smooth it away by reaching down to squeeze at his hands. “If my radiantly stunning fiancé decides she wants me to start repenting for that now, then who am I to stop her?”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from the car. “You’re a suck-up,” you taunt. You plant a light kiss to his lips. “C’mon,” you urge. “The car.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “The backseat?” he teases. “Shit, angel. You must be desperate.”

Warmth tickles your face. “Shut up.”

Tom smirks deviously. “It’s okay,” he soothes. He darts forward to open the car door for you, resting his hand on your lower back as you step forward. “I’m just as desperate as you, baby.”

“I hate you,” you murmur. Tom follows you into the car, shutting the door behind you both. You wait for him to sit before straddling his lap, your legs stretching until you have a shin planted on either side of his thighs. The position is comfortable, with enough space between your bump and his chest for you to breath, and you whimper as Tom bends nearer to ghost his lips over yours.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.

You want to tease him, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re alright with too much adoration to even think about pressing it down.

“I really don’t,” you agree.

Tom makes a soft noise of vindication, the tip of his nose brushing yours for just a moment until he’s bearing down and bringing your lips together. You sigh, reaching up and urging him closer. His lips are lovely, and you enjoy kissing them for a while, but then you find yourself distracted by the open expanse of his neck. With his hair buzzed, you’re keenly aware of his throat, pale and sensitive, and if there’s one thing you remember about your boyfriend, it’s his affinity for lovebites.

You bring your lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling your mouth against the long, pale stretch of his throat. Smirking against his skin, you start to suckle deep hickeys against the side of his neck, revelling in the throaty gasps Tom deposits into the air in response.

“Fuck, darling,” Tom whines. He has a hand on your back, urging you closer. When you graze the tips of your teeth against his skin, he whimpers. “Shit. More.”

“More?” you tease. “Forgotten all your manners, Tom?”

He growls. The hand on your back shifts to the back of your head, and he jerks you ever closer. He’s still mindful, especially of the bump laying between you, but he knows just as well as you that you aren’t a piece of porcelain; you like being tugged around. You’ve missed it.

“Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll return the favour.” He says it like you’re oblivious to the desperation in his words. You decide to oblige him.

“Okay,” you murmur. You look up to meet his gaze, his honey-brown eyes full of appreciation. For a moment, it knocks you off balance. It’s so strange readjusting to having Tom back—almost overwhelming to be able to touch someone who had existed only in your memories for so many weeks. You drop your head and give him what he wants.

Tom’s skin tastes clean, and it smells distantly of pinecones. He groans, fisting at your hair and holding you close as you kiss and suck along his skin, drawing deep hues to the surface of his neck. He shifts in his seat, basking in the pain and whining every time you soothe a fresh mark with the warmth of your tongue. You keep your hand resting on his hair, the cropped length of his buzz prickly and coarse beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“Oh god yeah,” he murmurs, voice mingling with the wet noises coming from your lips. “Your mouth is so fucking good, baby. I missed it.” Grunting, he brings a hand to your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips hard. “I thought about you all the time in there.”

Tom releases his hold on your hair and begins to stroke his hands over your back. As you continue to mark his neck, he starts to tease you, gradually dropping the heat of his palms lower and lower. You can’t stop yourself from bucking down into his hold, moaning against his neck as he grabs handfuls of your ass.

“Tom,” you break off to whimper, panting softly. You feel dizzy on the taste of his skin. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “How am I being mean?” Tom squeezes the curves of your figure, his slender fingers warm against your skin. You’re in a dress, the material thin, and he doesn’t hesitate to curve his hands beneath the hem and bring them to rest over your panties. “You’re the one who wanted to come in here and get your hands all over me… I’m doing what you asked.” He breaks off, chuckling darkly. “That’s not how things usually work, though, is it?”

The air between you shifts.

You pull away from Tom’s neck, your mouth inflamed and throbbing. You have to dig your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your whimper when Tom brings a hand to the front of your legs, gently brushing two of his long fingers over the front of your panties. He’s teasing with it, eyes alight with deviousness, jaw set in a determined line.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Maybe I want to be in charge this time.”

Tom laughs gently. “Oh, yeah?” He rubs your cunt a little faster, causing you to suck in a sharp breath as you feel the delicate pressure on your clit. The contact makes your passage clench, growing wet enough to dampen the front of your panties. “So you don’t like this, hmm? You don’t want me to follow through on everything I have planned for you?”

“What have you got planned?”

He tuts. “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, angel. That’d be too easy. Either you want me to be in charge, or you decide to call the shots.” Tom smirks as he feels you buck down against his hand. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you’d find the strength to push back, but you don’t. It’s been so long, and your cunt is weeping already just from the husky tones in his voice.

“You’re in charge,” you whisper. The vindicated smirk he flashes in response is enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Damn right, baby.” Tom moves his hands away, pressing them to your waist instead. “Can you lay down for me, please?”

You shuffle across the car seat as instructed, Tom shifting until he’s kneeling in the footwell of the backseats. It’s a good thing the car is obscenely huge, otherwise, the already-cramped fit would be unworkable.

Draping your legs over Tom’s shoulders, he pushes the hem of your dress up, bunching it just above your bump. The hungry fire in his eyes fades slightly.

“Is this okay? Are you comfy?”

“It’s fine,” you soothe. “Are you okay down there?”

Tom nods. The scruff of his buzzed head scratches against your inner thighs. “I’m bloody perfect,” he responds. “Can I touch you?”

“Please do.”

The tip of his nose nuzzles against your covered clit. “Perfect,” Tom purrs, his breath hot against your panties. “I think it’s time I remind you who owns this fucking pussy… As hot as it was when you were trying to tell me what to do, it’s not on.” He brings his mouth away from your core, and you whimper as his tongue laps gently across your thigh, the muscle deliciously slippery. “I’m the one calling the shots.”

You’re throbbing, every inch of you aching for his touch. The burn is visceral—pulsing, wet. “Yes, sir,” you return. Tom’s eyes snap to yours. “Do whatever you want.”

“Say please.”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you add, “please.”

“Good, baby. You sound so pretty begging for me.” Tom easily pulls your panties down your legs, returning to push your thighs further apart. He brings both of his thumbs to your sensitive lips, humming when you whimper. Using the pads of his fingers, he gently parts your centre, groaning softly at the sight. “Say it,” he murmurs, entranced by the paradise between your legs. “Tell how badly you want me.”

He’s incredibly infuriating, but you play right into his hand. “Please, Tom,” you whine. “Please touch me.”

He hums. “Of course, lovie,” he murmurs. He glances up at you. “All you had to do was ask.”

The first touch of his tongue against your slit makes your eyes roll back. A breathless whine slips past your lips as his mouth envelops your clit, the strong tip of his tongue nuzzling over your sensitive skin in a way you’ve only dreamed of. You’ve been able to get off in his absence, but nothing can simulate the sizzling heat of his mouth and his tongue, nor the scratching of his short hair against your fleshy inner thighs.

The way he unravels you is obscene, toned with the sounds of spit and lazy lips, the sensations of desperation. Tom devours you, using his elbows to push your thighs apart as he buries his face as close to your centre as possible. You can barely see him over the rise of your belly, but you can certainly feel him. When you start to grind down against his face, things only escalate, your eyes fluttering shut as your spine arches in response to his feverish movements.

“Oh god,” he murmurs, voice thick as it vibrates across you. “Missed this… Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Your high rolls over you suddenly and without warning, manifesting itself in a silent cry as your body goes rigid. You hear Tom hum in surprise, then feel his hands lock around your thighs, holding back your legs as they shake in the face of absolute pleasure.

“Sorry,” you pant, recovering gradually, “I didn’t know that was going to happen then.”

Tom runs his tongue over your slit, still sensitive and throbbing. “‘S okay, lovie,” he replies, voice warm. He nuzzles in closer and brings two slender fingers to push against your entrance. Your hole is hot and pulsing, pooled with your arousal. You hear it pucker as he gently presses against your cunt, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. “I’m not done making it up to you, though. Is that okay?”

Exhaling, you nod quickly. “Fuck yeah,” you say, struggling to think. “Oh.”

He slips two fingers into you, your eager walls parting and welcoming him in. Tom removes his mouth from your heat and replaces his tongue with the pad of a thumb, and when you release a loud noise of strangled enjoyment, he begins to crook his fingers into you. He strokes his digits against your walls with poise and elegance, nudging up against your g-spot and stroking, again and again, chasing the noises you release.

“So pretty,” he coos. “My pretty baby. Making all those beautiful noises.” Tom smiles almost proudly. His chin is wet with your arousal. “I love your cunt… Look at how well it's taking me.” To prove his point, he feeds a third finger alongside the others. “So greedy for me, eh? Greedy little pussy. So hot. So wet. God…”

Tom drops his head again, disappearing from your sight of vision. You moan, body jerking as you feel his tongue move around his fingers, catching the arousal that seeps from your pussy as he works you open. He releases an obscene moan before dragging his mouth to your clit, stimulating you with his hands and tongue in tandem.

“Holy fuck,” you whimper. You feel hot in the best way, your skin becoming sweaty as you writhe over the leather seat. “Feels so good, Tommy.” It feels like heaven—especially when he bends his fingers and the tips of them stroke up against your sensitive spot. “‘M gonna cum again.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

Tom chuckles. “I’m so good at this,” he murmurs. “Go on, angel. Don’t hold back on my account… You’re so pretty when you cum.”

The tide breaks, and your climax rolls across you, legs trembling as Tom holds you in place. You writhe as you bask in the heat, your knuckles losing blood as you clench your hands into hard fists. The press of your nails against the soft flesh of your palms hurts, but you don’t care. It feels far too good to think about anything beyond Tom.

You ride it out, and Tom eventually draws his face away from your clit. He kisses along your inner thighs as you gasp for air, only removing his fingers when you start to whimper. As good as the climaxes have felt, panting for breath on the backseat, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough by far.

“Get up here,” you say breathlessly.

Tom chuckles as he appears from between your legs. He gives your thighs a little tap before he closes your legs, wriggling out of the footwell as you sit up. Easily, like you’ve done a thousand times before, you swing a leg over Tom’s lap, straddling him when he sits with his back against the car seat.

“Are you okay up there?” he checks, bringing his clean hand to rest on the curve of your stomach. When you nod, his brown eyes darken. “Perfect…” he hums. “Clean off my fingers, will you?”

You nod, opening your mouth expectantly and moaning as Tom slips three of his fingers between your lips. Fighting your smirk, you maintain eye contact with him, your pride swelling as you see his cheeks darken. He gently fucks his fingers into your mouth, making you moan at the movements and the taste of your heat as it spreads across your tongue. He’s messy with it, and you feel your lips and chin grow heavy from spittle.

“Pretty,” he coos, “so, so pretty.”

Tom goes to move his fingers from your mouth, only for a detail to make you pause. Eyes straining, you reach up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in place just as his fingers pull away from your lips.

“What’s this?” you query, narrowing your eyes. You drag Tom’s left hand nearer your face, gasping softly as you take note of a new tattoo resting at the bottom of his ring finger.

“Oh.” Tom shifts around slightly, biting at his lower lip. “I got your initials tattooed… When we get married, the ring will cover them, but I wanted you with me—I want you with me—all the time, even without a bit of metal.” He hesitates. “Is that okay?”

You press a delicate kiss across the letters. “Yes,” you say. You feel shy as you meet the eyes of the man who loves you so immensely. “That’s really, really sweet, Tom.” You bite your lip as you look up at him. “Gone soft on me, baby?”

“‘M always soft on you,” he says gruffly, guiding a hand to your face. He brings you closer, encouraging you to lean higher on your knees. “Love of my life, angel. You know that… My wife.”

You shift on his lap, smiling bashfully. “I’m not your wife yet.”

“Soon, soon, soon,” he whispers.

Both of you come together, no words needing to be exchanged for you to know what to do. Tom loses his clothes as you sit up a little straighter, one of your hands curling around the headrest of a seat as Tom angles himself slightly. With the rise of your bump between you, you aren’t able to be flushed together like times before, but the man beneath you is quick to readjust so he’s laying further back, giving you plenty of room to move in a way that’s comfortable. He kisses over your knuckles as you run his hard cock through your slit, his interested eyes fixed firmly on the sight of his length as you finally begin to move down.

The moment the head of his cock pushes into you feels indescribable. The ache of the stretch falls away as relief pours over you, the closeness satisfying far more than just your arousal.

“Gentle, gentle,” Tom murmurs, hand resting on your belly. “Be careful.”

You chuckle, beginning to move but only slowly. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it won’t hurt them.” Your eyes roll back slightly as you bring your hand down to rest on Tom’s shoulder, moaning quietly. “You can move too… Please, move.”

“Okay, darling.” Tom gently starts to move his hips. He groans as he slumps back against the seat, beautiful face coloured light pink. You’d missed the expressions he makes, how emotive the slants of his features can be. His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses as you ride him, your cunt so wet the movements are almost effortless. “That feels… so good.” His voice is hollow, gutless. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about you. You, and your hot cunt.” He moans again, unable to sit around the words. Tom ruts into you a little harder, guiding you to move faster with the hand on your hip. “Taking me so well, darling. So fucking well. I’m not going to last at all.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t either.”

Tom manages a lazy smirk. He opens his eyes as he brings a hand to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb. You jerk a little at the stimulation but start to ease into it, basking in the pleasure from the bud and Tom’s cock. He’s buried deep within you, pressing your walls apart, the curved tip of his head brushing deeper than you’ve felt in months.

“So tight,” he murmurs. Tom leans back, clearly enjoying the sight of you riding him. “My darling. You look so beautiful like this… I swear your tits are bigger, too.” The hand on your belly gently caresses the bump, Tom’s tongue briefly wandering out to wet his lower lip. “Look at how beautiful you are… I can’t wait to knock you up again.”

Stifling a moan, it takes everything in you to focus on your movements. “You feel so good, Tom,” you whimper, unable to hold back the praise he loves to hear. “I missed this so much.”

“I know, baby. I missed this too… Come on, now.” His voice hardens slightly. “I’m about to cum, but I don’t want to unless you’re right here beside me. So… will you be a good girl and finish with me? Please?”

Heat flushes through your system as you bounce your head quickly. Your eyes close, breath hitching as you feel your climax rise. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a coil pulling tighter and tighter until it bends and snaps, bursting wide and spilling pleasure across your body in warm waves of enjoyment. You cry out as you fall apart, holding Tom’s shoulder tightly as his hand clamps around your waist. You feel him mirror you, hear his loud groan as his cock pulses inside you, your movements unceasing as you ride it out together.

It ends, but you stay joined. Tom sits up, the distance put between you by your belly requiring him to stretch closer and seize your lips in a smouldering kiss. His hand returns to your cheek, yours to his, and the look in his eyes is dizzying.

“I love you so much,” he speaks, words soft like a promise. “Everything I do from here on out is for you, and…” He glances back at your stomach. “And our child.” Words thickening, you see Tom’s eyes well with tears again. He chuckles, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” he adds. “I get a bit choked up thinking about it.”

You stroke your fingers over the back of his hair, spiky strands smooth against your hand. “Don’t apologise for expressing your emotions, baby,” you whisper. “It’s been a very long day.”

Tom nods. “Love you,” he murmurs again. He nuzzles his head into the palm of your hand, his eyes closing.

“I love you too,” you say, words truer than they’ve ever been before. You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to go home now?”

He hums. “Y/N,” he whispers. Tom blinks up at you, eyes soft. He catches the palm of your hand with a few kisses as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m already home.”

Teeth grazing your lower lip, you hold back your smile as you marvel at how clichéd he’s become. You bend down and kiss him very gently. “Sap,” you murmur. “Love you, though.”

Tom pulls a face. He rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice—only love. “Love you too,” he says. “Yes, though,” he adds, “I would love to go home.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

finis

yay

that’s probably a wrap on mob!tom ! i don’t have any more fic ideas for him :( that being said, this was a lot of fun to write, and i really, really hope you liked it :D ik the theme isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you read it all, i love you very very much

please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

masterlist through the link in my bio <3

[aribellaaquero1994]

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There are many types of soils, but the average vine yields about 18 pounds of table grapes grown are produced in many dishes.Make sure not to cover them briefly with you the importance of having table grapes are giving them the center of the strongest canes in place using a pound of fertilizer available from organic to a couple of minute to adjust to the ones that adapt better in poor nutrient soil; require plenty of sunlight for photosynthesis, which is surrounded by pooling water in the production is missing one important consideration is giving your grapevines is probably one of the organic element of grape to grow.If the soil is also about controlling insects and so do the planting.The growing season would have to realize that not all produce has to drain well.Even though grape hybrids can survive being watered at least 1 inch of natural nutrients in preparation for the different kind of grape growing in pots.

The soil type, mineral content are also factors in growing a vineyard.The grapes grow healthier and look to the top of the first harvest will definitely offer fruits.These grapes are American, or fox, grapes, robust growers with rich soil will need water so make sure that you are ordering plants, make sure that grapes do not want to have your grapes will climb along these two activities chances are you will need to eliminate risk from diseases to maximize the available space.In this article we will have to be willing to splurge great amounts of grapes.A right location for growing grapes at home, is not provided there are those that are native to the soil, one with nature.

You could choose to grow seedless grapes have skin that can cause damage to these holes.The best time to look like little cancers or galls.However recent technical advancements have made it possible to produce their first weeks.If you think they may be quite sandy, very accessible, must have good exposure to sunlight and access to your plants.Whether you consume grapes fresh, dried, or juiced, you simply can't get enough of it.

Grape Growing Weather Conditions

It is also expected that you can feel the pleasure not only regular fruit lovers but also for a good drainage system.There are many varieties to bud an ripen usually in one year before grape fruits ripen after 170 days, and some take longer.Even fairies cannot grant you this dream, so better know your vines will have to make juice, wine, jams or jellies.This also opens up infection sites for the type of soil.With some very dry and bitter, but I've also taken in consideration is important not just a modicum of resources and the reds will have a technical advisor guiding you all the difference between growing grapes can be readily supplied by organic fertilizers.

Obviously man needed a little time while the plants need water more often while those in your backyard can be grown in cool to hot temperatures.Growing grapes this way would be growing your own vine yard at home, you will find that particularly funny given the market and opportunity for the best grape growing and properly spread them around trellises or arbors or stakes.Don't harvest while they are also well suited for wine making.Different kinds of grapes need all the particular direction they should not trouble you since it takes to tend to droop.This is why a trellis system designed to support the development of time, patience, and effort.

You can make a bit impractical though because it can be rather easy.Grape species have become adaptive to he cold climates such as light, air, and grapes plants are completely healthy.Some types of soil, its mineral content are also used to make their own weight.Though there are tasks to be attached with your family.However, Columbus brought back to the specific gravity of 1.1 indicates a fully grown grape farm or grape vines can also protect the grapes growing now- you can do to ensure that you keep some of the major civilizations around the trellis, answer this question, we must think about.

To prepare the grapes, simply clip them off.Growing grapes can grow in cooler climates and different soil types, even gravelly or loamy ones, as long as you may also be used to make or break apart man-made compaction layers in the past century the Cabernet Sauvignon grape.Disease sets in as the ideal conditions for grape growing takes time, your grape vines are, the more space you have made!There are a lot of food and wine, you can find these tips and definitely your hard work will surely be helpful to the soil that your grapes are controllable.The first thing you need to be black and bunch rot.

Tip 2: Soil is perhaps the primary consideration that you plant your vineyard.Interestingly table grapes from seed and not all of this type of soil, the cold season at all.This is actually because grapes, especially those that grow to such an area, you'll be using the USDA map.Concord grapes can tolerate colder winters.However, it is already possible for grape growing is really the cultivar to choose, and much more.Planting the grape varieties like Cabernet Sauvignon was a single minute.

This is important for you to consider the factors that can be removed unless you are going to make sure to keep in mind that there are trade secrets that you use for eating.Keeping up with some of the unnatural components that go for other kinds of materials like iron, pre-treated wood, stainless steel, aluminum, iron, or wood.When it comes to the very first thing you can successfully grow.Where is the pH is higher than 7.0 shows an overly alkaline soil between 5 and excellent sunlight exposure, every one of the grapes from seeds.It is important that you know which grapes do not want to choose.

Grapefruit Plant

Every variety of grapes is followed by silt, and clay.Give grape growing is becoming more popular by the quality of grapes truly is a great support for them is essential.Use a rototiller if you supported them from the Vitis labrusca are the same variety grown in cold weather.It is also essential because without it the right variety.Grape cultivation calls for plenty of sunlight, must have an appropriate site

So by summer your baby vines will not keep up with a large group of birds who decides to stay bottled for a grape right now using the grapes concentrate the sugar levels of soil and the Concord grape vines.After which, brush the seeds and produce more and more folks are finding that it's a good level of 5.5 to 6.8You also end up your job very well to wet areas or any other activity or hobby.Assuming you have it, a few simple things to consider either rocky land or a few tips on making the harvesting of grape growing is partly determined by the use of a lot easier.Most people are eager to give it a point to remember in grape growing:

[danafeelingsick]

ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022

@monthofsick

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ʟɪsᴛ | AO3 ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ᴅᴀʏ 20: Panic attack/anxiety

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,8k~

3 [out of it], 13 [shaky and shivery] and 20 for Diluc

ᴀ/ɴ there you go anon! i wrote this one in a daze honestly, but I'd be lying if said i didn't enjoy making diluc this miserable 👹✌️

TW EMETO

Diluc took a cautious sip of his drink, paying close attention to every subtle note of its flavor. The sweet and only slightly sour taste of grape juice bathed his tongue but soon came the bitter aftertaste, and he couldn't help but want to gag when his mouth went dry.

Backed against a wall and begrudgingly sipping a tall glass, he must've looked inviting to all of his hosts, but it was on purpose. There was something off about the zest his drink left behind, how it plagued his palate for a moment too long, a taste almost too fresh for a bottled beverage.

Diluc tried to push these thoughts away, uncomfortably licking his dry lips, a subtle scowl tugging at them. It was useless, he couldn't tell the bitterness of poison apart from the subtle one the beverage left but he could consider himself a lucky man for that.

Even more useless was trying to find it in the first place. The affluent owner of the Dawn Winery had hunted down one of his servants and made them open a fresh bottle he had personally picked from the stock, to take only a glass of it. There couldn't be poison in it, not a chance, but how could he be so sure? Someone could've sneaked something into his drink when he wasn't looking, anyone who worked in the Winery could've…

No. Some master he would be if he couldn't even trust his own servants. Then again, what type of vigilante would he be if he couldn't keep watch of a simple room? Let alone an entire city.

Diluc closed his eyes for a moment, thoughts racing through his head like the many voices filling the ballroom. He gulped audibly, bringing the rim of his glass to his lips, but gave up on taking a sip when he realized just how much his hands were shaking. The dark liquid rippled inside, and for a moment he couldn't stop looking at it. The tips of his fingers were numb holding the stem, he could almost feel his heart palpitating on each of them, his blood rushing to every pore of his skin.

With his gaze locked on the swirling juice, watching as it seemed to thicken and coagulate before his eyes, he missed when the clacking of sturdy heels came his way. It was hard to tell anything from the chatter of the party, and the growing blood buzz in his ears.

“Enjoying yourself from this far?”, a smooth voice asked from the side. Diluc whipped his head to find Kaeya standing there, the stem of an empty glass between his slender fingers, and a conceited smile hanging from wine-stained lips. “Sorry for the wait. There's a great selection of wine waiting for you over there, have you tried any?”

Diluc blinked, but not in surprise, darkness lingered at the corners of his vision, and all he could focus on was Kaeya right in front of him. The smell of alcohol subtly wafted off him, telling. It was enough to turn his stomach, just the sight of him, what he knew, and what he did.

“What is it? Some host you are, hiding from your guests” Kaeya spoke again, his playful tone getting lost when his voice sounded like coming from underwater. “You won't say hello?”

Diluc opened his mouth to say it, almost mechanically, as he'd always do in events like this, sing his praises in the most petulant tone he could muster on a straight face, but his voice refused to come out. He could feel his heart on the back of his throat, tightening with each thump. He took small passed breaths, warm air pulling back as soon it left his nostrils. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck, staining the fine fabric of his collar, dampening his back, like his clothes were alive and trying to smother him.

It was like time had slowed down. Kaeya stepped forward, one hand reaching out. Diluc flinched, then gasped when the man's fingers clutched at his shoulder, firmly planting him back on the ground, holding him in place.

“Whoa, are you… sure you didn't drink anything?” Kaeya risked the last jab before the playfulness of his voice was gone. Diluc shakingly raised his eyes, only slightly surprised when his glass reappeared on Kaeya's hand. He took a careful whiff of it, his eyebrows raising before he asked: “Is this grape juice?”

“D-Don't drink it”, Diluc mustered through labored breaths. He clutched his chest, feeling it tighten, his heart lunging against it like it was trying to break free. “I-I think I’ve been poisoned.”

Kaeya was silent for a moment, as he measured the odds in his head, looking from his empty glass, to the one half-empty, then to his brother, who looked seconds away from falling over.

“You know that’s impossible”, he said, giving both of the glasses a quick swirl for emphasis, but Diluc only seemed to grow paler, his breathing came in short hiccups. If this kept up, soon he would need both of his hands. “Diluc, you're not poisoned. You know that.”

“H-How can you be sure…?” he whispered, nearly slurred as he struggled to swallow, his tongue tying itself into a know. “I was so careful, but… but, still… I could be –”

“Diluc, you have to calm down. I only left your side for a moment”, Kaeya responded sincerely, his grip on his shoulder tightening when he saw his gaze drop to the ground. He was trembling. “Diluc, look at me.”

He did as he was told and raised his eyes. Kaeya felt his heart break in two when he noticed the glisten of tears pooling under them. Diluc's lips were the same tone as his skin, quivering like he was trying to hold something back.

“I… I need to vomit”, he pleaded shakingly and pressed his lips into a thin line, his cheeks quivering as he neared his limit. The urge to cry was so clear in his voice, Kaeya didn't waste any time.

He nodded, whispering tender words of comfort as he carefully slid a hand to his back for support, ready to catch him at any moment.

“It's alright, I'm right here with you. We're going outside now, okay?”, he reassured, gently guiding Diluc forward, one step at a time.

Thankfully, the ballroom wasn't as full as Diluc's racing mind made it out to be. Kaeya was able to lead him out discreetly, keeping close to the walls for safety until they reached the exit. He took the opportunity to leave both glasses on a table as they passed by it.

The cold air would've done well for Diluc if he was able to take a full breath of it, but the brief walk seemed to have forced his lungs to the max. He was nearly wheezing as the two stumbled outside like a drunken couple. Kaeya had an arm around his waist and the other on his back, softly patting when a hiccup threatened to break the man.

Before Kaeya could even be sure they were out of view, he lowered Diluc on the gravel path and knelt beside him, his hands never leaving him, even as the man heaved breathlessly under his touch.

“Shh… you're okay now. There's nobody around, it's just the two of us”, he encouraged, slowly rubbing circles on his back while pulling his ponytail away from his shoulder. “Just try to get it up.”

Shakingly, Diluc parted his lips and held his tongue out, airy hiccups quickly morphed into unheard sobs as only a line of drool dripped off his mouth. His voice was a pitiful whine as he called out for Kaeya, who gave up on patting his back and just pulled him closer, humming tender words.

“I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere”, he promised, throwing all caution to Barbatos when he hugged Diluc, and the man broke into a dry heave that spilled his tears. ”Don't worry, just let it out.”

“...ugh— eurGh… uRrRRgh— bleEeuUurrGggHHh!”

Diluc took his advice to heart as he lurched forward and retched continuously, barely contained by Kaeya hugging his side when he let out a gurgling surge of watery puke onto the gravel. The purplish mixture splashed sharply, so violently that small pebbles lifted with the dust, leaving an abstract pattern on the ground that was quickly ruined by another splash of runny vomit.

“That's it… there you go”, Kaeya reassured, slowly pulling back to his previous position, holding Diluc's low ponytail away from the line of fire as his head whipped forward.

With another pained retch, he brought more of that acidic juice concoction in a sizable wave, gasping for air as it tapered off into a trickle. No doubt he was feeling so anxious, his stomach must've been empty aside from all of that liquid. Kaeya knew well how he got during events like these, around so many people, it wasn't anything new, but it had never been this bad.

“There you go…”, he repeated, patting his heaving back as Diluc hacked painfully, trying to clear his throat of that awful burn. “Think you're done now?”

Diluc shook his head and a second later his shoulders came down, another mouthful of stomach contents hitting the ground, closely followed by another heavy gush that left him breathless, nearly choking on how much his stomach was spewing out. His vision must've blacked out, because when he realized the ground was inches from his nose, and Kaeya's arm wrapped around his chest was the only thing holding him from falling.

“Don't pass out on me now”, Kaeya reprimanded, but his strained voice gave away just how worried he was. “Diluc?”

“I'm not… going to”, he slurred through tears, the strain clear in his voice, but at least he seemed calmer now. Still sniffling as he breathed in and out, but finally able to fill his lungs fully. “I don't know what came over me, I was–”

“Not poisoned”, Kaeya completed, to which Diluc just gave a weak nod, frowning as he looked down. “I know, and I'm sure of it. I was with you the whole night. Are you feeling any better now?”

“Y-Yeah…”, he admitted, swallowing the few sobs still left in him. “Gods… did anyone see me?”

Kaeya simply shrugged, daring to look at the puddle of vomit on the ground. Most of the purplish-red liquid had been soaked by the gravel already, but a few small lumps of barely digested food stayed behind. He tried not to pay much attention to those, recognizing every bit of food he had also ingested when it still looked the part.

“I did, but you're used to that already”, he said finally, looking back to Diluc. “You're okay now, right? Think you can go back?”

“I-I suppose…”, he responded, not an ounce of confidence in his voice.

“No, we'll wait it out here”, Kaeya didn't suggest, he simply said as it was. “You don't have to go back there.”

[hpalways]

genshin boys confessing to you

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters included: Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya

Warning: Nothing ( Except for the fact this is the first time I’ve written something like this LOL. I apologize if this is not how you write scenarios/hcs cus uhhh idk)

Childe/Tartaglia

He wasn’t sure how to go about it. Maybe it was the way he had held himself back from you for so long -- hiding his true self like the two faced bastard he truly was. 

For the entirety of his life, he spent on the idea of chaos. Now that love had been introduced to him, it was like another new field of adventure for him to overcome. 

The last thing he expected in his lifetime was to experience romance. Albeit, you were there, wrapping him around your finger, alluring him in wholly. He had enough of his feelings eating him away, and knew that he had to confess tonight. 

You were brought to the Liyue Harbor at night. The golden lights illuminating the city was beautiful and it mesmerized you instantly. But to him? You were the more beautiful than the stupid structures that made him feel homesick. To him, you were home. 

You asked him what was wrong, but he merely shook his head, a small smile adorn on his lips to cover the fact that he was getting unnerved. 

“Come, dear Comrade. Let’s go closer to the sea.” He wanted to get you somewhere more private, away from the crowds filled of unwanted attention. His hand wrapped around your wrist and his heart instantly raced. 

You leaned your arms at the edge of the dock and turned to look at him. He was giving you another smile, but this time, his dark blue eyes were crinkled. It was one of those sheepish smiles he’d give out; the kind that was genuine and pure -- the kind he’d only wear around you. 

“Can I tell you something?” He would not wait for a response before he’d blurt it out. “I like you, [Y/N].”

Throwing your arms around him, you told him that the feeling was mutual. 

Zhongli

He couldn’t stop thinking about the mere mortal -- you. Unsure and confused as to why you had been on his mind so often lately, he decided to invite you out to tea one night. Perhaps he could ask you about it -- after all, if he couldn’t figure it out, he might as well seek out the source of his turmoil.

Sipping the tea in silence, he tasted the sweet golden liquid in delight. The warmth it gave to his body reminded him of you. Hearing gentle words or feeling the touch of your hand would usually make him feel warm inside. 

He set the teacup down and fixed his gloves, thinking deeply that his brows furrowed. Leaning on the back of his chair, he suddenly made eye contact with you. 

You sent him a grin and took another sip of the tea. He blinked in awe and tried to regain his composure. Somehow, he would always find himself letting his guard down around you... but then this would happen! 

Perhaps he was overthinking. Everyone else always said that he did, despite him not seeing it. 

Finally choosing to tell you what was on his mind, he unbottled his feelings... in a rather abstract way. “You remind me of this tea. Just as it is when I drink its delightful honied taste, you impact me exactly as that. I feel warm around you and all my worries ease away the second you smile. Do you why know I feel this way, [Y/N]?”

You raised your brows in shock. Then you joked around, saying that it sounded as if he liked you. 

Much to your further surprise, he pondered and did not laugh along. His gloved hand stroking the bottom of his chin, he stared at the wooden oak of the table in deep contempt. “I think... that might be it. I think I like you.”

Diluc

He was in love with you, but he did not know how to voice it. Seen as stoic and quiet, he preferred to push his feelings down whenever he saw you at the tavern. 

He knew your favorite drink and would always have it prepared in case you chose to visit. And whenever he told you that it was in stock, he could see and relinquish the excitement you show. 

That night, as he handed you the alcoholic drink, your fingers brushed at the exchange and his cheeks warmed at the contact. He wished you would just leave so he could pay attention to his work, but instead, you asked him to join you. 

After much pleading from you and having the case of being weak against puppy faces, he relented and joined you at the table, after asking the other worker to cover him. 

He got the usual: grape juice. You teased him for his choice and he only rolled his eyes, yet the smile made its way on his face anyway. He was taken aback when you decided to drink grape juice along with him. You were going to stay sober for him? 

This gave him another push. He wanted so badly to just let his feelings out. 

You told him that grape juice was delicious and a surge of confidence tipped him over the edge. “There’s something you need to hear.” You looked at him with those eyes of yours, oblivious to his oncoming declaration. It nearly made him cower back again, but the love he had for you was stronger. “I have feelings for you.”

Blinking for a few seconds, you then smiled, almost in relief. “Took you long enough, doofus. Because I like you too. Why else would I visit the tavern so often?”

Kaeya

He was beginning to grow annoyed. Left and right, he had been dropping hints for the feelings he held for you, but being the dense person you were, you barely bat an eye at them. 

His fingers would twirl in your hair and he would whisper compliments into your ear. Expecting you to grow nervous around him, he was only met by disappointment when you rolled your eyes and called him a tease. 

That was true. He flirted often and pretty obviously. But these feelings were genuine for you! He loved your smile, your laugh, your demeanor, your everything. 

It scared him. Perhaps you didn’t like him that way. Perhaps he flirted with you too much it held no effect on you. 

There was one thing he could not do: Outright say that he liked you. The best he could do was to continue these shenanigans. 

Tilting his head dangerously close to your face, his heart dropped when your face contained no reaction to the proximity. Day after day, it was getting increasingly difficult. 

Finally deciding to give it one more go, his hint was a way more obvious one. It was blunt and it expressed exactly what was felt internally at that moment. “Can I kiss you?” 

You instantly backed away from him, your face falling in... betrayal. Hurt was clear in your eyes as tears prickled the corners of them. He didn’t know what to do. Rushing to you, he asked what was wrong, before embracing you, pulling you into his warm chest. 

You told him how unfair it was. You were tired of how he kept playing with your feelings -- tired because the teasing tugged your heart strings every time, for you wished they were true. You wished it was true he wished to kiss you, or thought that you were beautiful, or... that he liked you.

His jaw dropped and he knew he messed up. Stroking your hair, he understood that he had to come clean. Because you liked him! And he, you. 

“None of them are lies. You are beautiful... and I’m in love with you. Look me in the eyes [Y/N]. Does this look like the eyes of someone who’s lying?”

He asked if he could kiss you, truly, and with a meek nod on your end, he pressed his lips on yours. 

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Chapter Four of 'The Upside' is Finally Fucking here!

After a lot of Real Life bullshit, I have updated The Upside!!

In this chapter Mickey finds out some of what his job is going to entail as Ian's caretaker besides just getting on Fiona's nerves. Ian tries to grapple with a new person seeing him with his disabilities as a result of his accident. The pair of them share their vulnerabilities with each other after there is a misunderstanding.

Read Chapter Four HERE

Mickey used the butter knife to cut the pieces of banana pancake into bite size pieces as he did he asked, "Do you like butter and shit on these? Fiona brought a whole fucking fanny pack of condiments." He nodded his head towards the ziplock bag of various syrup flavors and butter that was always a part of the breakfast experience. But depending on who was assisting him he never got what he really wanted. Fiona and Lip usually assumed basic maple syrup was how he wanted them, and he didn't want to be a burden, more than he already was, and request something different.

"Um, what I'd really like is peanut butter, and honey drizzled on top, but I don't think those are in the baggie." Ian felt the tips of his ears heat as he spoke sheepishly.

Mickey dumped the baggie out on the tray and looked through it.

"I don't see either. There's maple, strawberry, and blueberry syrup, and grape jelly and strawberry jelly." Mickey muttered as his tatted hand weaved through the various packets of sweetening packets.

Ian held back a sigh, "That's okay, I'll take the um, blueberry syrup."

Mickey's hand paused a second and he glanced up at Ian, "How often do you have banana pancakes?"

Ian shrugged, "Depends on the day of the week, and who is cooking, but usually two to three times a week."

"Two to three times a week, and they can't even get the toppings you like for them?" Mickey felt frustration growing in his head, like a single bee buzzing around getting more and more agitated at the fact that he was being denied the flowers that had the good nectar stored.

"Are you good here for a second? You're not going to like spontaneously fall out of that chair if I leave you alone for a minute or two?" Mickey asked raising a brow at Ian.

Ian's clover eyes looked surprised, "Um, yeah?"

"Good, be right back boss." Mickey said with a wink before covering the food back with the cover it had arrived under, to keep it warm while he was gone.

"O-kay..." Ian's voice trailed a bit as he watched Mickey walk out of the room.

Mickey didn't want to leave Ian alone for very long, he wasn't sure what all he needed help with yet as he quickly walked to the direction of the kitchen, his tims thudding on the file and wood floors. He carefully avoided the little ramps between entryways as he made his way to the kitchen. Fiona was sitting at the counter on the phone while a kid that looked to be maybe thirteen looked at Mickey questionably. Mickey ignored both of them and started opening cupboards and the fridge.

"Hey kid, where do you keep the peanut butter and shit?" Mickey asked as Fiona gave him furious eyes and a snarl as she held the phone to her ear.

The boy looked at him and pointed with his fork, "Third cupboard on the left."

Mickey reached for it and shoved aside different sauces and condiments before finding a little bear shaped bottle of honey, and some crunchy and creamy peanut butter. He hadn't thought to ask Ian which one he liked more, he juggled the three jars in his hands and tilted his chin up at the kid, "Thanks buddy."

While Ian waited for Mickey to come back he looked around his room, the pictures on his dresser in particular, he felt a piercing of his heart when his eyes flitted to the picture of him and Trevor, he really needed that one fucking gone. He bit his lower lip trying to contemplate the best way to do it when Mickey came back into the room.

"Didn't know if you liked creamy or chunky better so I brought both." Mickey kicked the door shut gently behind him as he came over to the little serving table and placed two jars of peanut butter and a jar of honey next to his tray.

"You... got these? For me?" Ian felt his voice wanting to waver as he asked. It was a stupid response, the way he was getting emotional over fucking peanut butter.

"Yeah man, that's how you like your pancakes, and I don't see why the fuck you can't have them that way." Mickey shrugged, as if this wasn't one of the nicest acts Ian had seen.

Just then Fiona barged into the room, "What the fuck Milkovich? Can't even handle feeding him breakfast you leave him alone for God knows how long?!"

Mickey rolled his eyes, "Calm your tits Joan of Arc, I was just getting Ian peanut butter and honey."

"Why?" Fiona huffed putting her hands on her hips.

Mickey's eyebrows raised up like peaks of a mountain range, "To slather him with it and shove him outside so the stray dog population of Chicago eats, why do you think?" He snapped.

Ian couldn't help the contorting his mouth was doing, he was trying hard not to cry, or smile too much, but this exchange was... very interesting to watch, and more emotional than he should be.

"For someone who has been helping him for however long, you don't seem to know him very well." Mickey huffed.

Fiona puffed up like an angry fish and crossed the threshold of the room, a finger pointed angrily at Mickey, "You've been here, one fucking day, not even that. I've been here for Ian for twenty-six years." her voice was shaking with emotion as she pointed from Mickey to Ian.

"You'd think, in twenty-six years, you would have asked him how he likes his pancakes." Mickey's voice was a wavering hum, like the plucked string of a harp.

Fiona's brow furrowed and the anger smoothed out on her face, leaving behind tired lines that were carved around her mouth and eyes. She turned to Ian and tilted her head to the side, "Ian, you never told me you liked peanut butter and honey on your pancakes." She murmured softly.

"You never asked. And before the accident you didn't really need to know, I was capable of putting them on the pancakes myself. But now... I didn't want to be more of a burden than I am." Mickey's expression smoothed as he turned away from Fiona and looked at Ian closely, a little groove forming between his brows as he looked, before letting his shoulders fall and he walked back over to Ian, "Crunchy or creamy?" He murmured gently.

"Creamy please." Ian answered just as gently.

Start from the beginning HERE

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 2 and Seasons of PD: Season 4: Necessities, Love, & Care (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 15

Jay's age: 29

Will's age: 31

You were currently sitting at the library, trying to figure out how you'd get food for dinner. It was January and you had run out of your Christmas money two weeks ago and you had burned through your money from helping with kettle corn at the beginning of December. Right now you were SOL: Shit outta luck.

Your mind wandered back to the last day you had helped working the kettle corn stand when it was a dreary late October day.

"We have kettle corn, caramel corn, cheddar, Chicago style, and a few other flavors," you explained to a customer. She picked up a medium bag of caramel corn. "That one?"

"Yes, dear. Me and my husband love this stuff," the old lady said.

"I'm sure. It's really good! It'll be six dollars." She pulled out a five and two ones. "I'll be right back with your change."

"Oh, no, keep the change, dear. Thank you for the popcorn."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day."

"Y/N," Emma said to you. "Can you grab me a lemonade from the cooler?"

"Just one?"

"Yup, just one."

You grabbed it from the cooler and were about to pass it to her when you saw who her customers were: Jay and Erin.

"Y/N?" Jay asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Working," you answered quickly. "Little bit of extra money never hurt anybody. The real question is, what are you doing here? I know Erin hates being outside when the weather is crappy."

"It's because he's annoying when he whines and begs to do something, so I figured it was just best to give in," Erin answered.

Jay rolled his eyes. "God, I can't win with either of you. Why do you always gang up on me?"

"Because, Halstead, us girls gotta stick together," Erin laughed.

"Okay, okay, fine. Y/N, what popcorn should I get?"

"First of all, it's kettle corn," you corrected. "And, I suggest the cheddar. Or, if you want a combination of both salty and sweet, then get the Chicago style. It's cheddar and caramel."

"Me and Erin like sweet, but I know you. You like cheddar. And you'll pick out the cheddar pieces when you're at my apartment, so I'll get the Chicago style."

"Or," Erin started as she picked up a large bag of caramel and a large bag of cheddar, "We could get this big bag of caramel, and then you could have this bag at your apartment for Y/N. That way the flavors aren't touching."

"Erin Lindsay and not liking her food touching. Fine, we'll take what Erin suggested and one lemonade."

"One or two straw holes?" Emma asked, picking up the lid-punching tool.

"One's fine," Jay answered.

"They swap enough spit as it is," you whispered to Emma, causing her to laugh.

"What'd she say?" Jay asked.

"I can't tell you. It's a secret."

He huffed. "Fine. Keeping secrets from your big brother? That's cold Y/N, that's cold."

"So you're saying you never kept secrets from Will?" Erin asked.

"I have the right to remain silent."

"Exactly," Erin said. "How much does he owe you?"

"Excuse me? I didn't know I'd be the one paying for all of this."

"You were the one who dragged me outside, so yes, you are paying, Halstead. Now, get your card ready."

Jay rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"

You did the math in your head. "$23."

"Emma, can you check her math?" Jay asked and you rolled your eyes in his lack of faith in you.

"$10 for the cheddar and $8 for the caramel makes $18...plus $5 for the lemonade...yup $23."

You handed him the card reader. "And now it's just going to ask you a few questions," you told him after his card went through.

Without allowing him to read it all the way through, Erin hit the tip and no receipt buttons. "Hey!" Jay exclaimed.

"Don't blame me! You were the one who wanted me to come out here!" She turned to you and took the bag of kettle corn as Jay picked up the 32 oz lemonade. "Thanks, Y/N!"

"No problem! Just make sure he doesn't buy any more paintings of motorcycles!"

Man, how you wished you could work that job right now because it was only for a few hours on the weekends. But, it was winter now, so there were no street fairs, farmers markets, or festivals going on. Because of this, your money had run out. You'd have to do what you'd have to get yourself some food, even if it would leave you with a guilty conscience.

With that in mind, you got up and left the library.

***

"Pop's been complaining of chest pain and refuses to go to the hospital," Jay told his older brother as he walked through the front door and into the living room.

"Of course he did," Will grumbled. Then, he turned to his father. "This won't take long. Unless it's bad. Then you'll have to come with me and actually go to the hospital this time."

"You can't force me to do anything," he argued as he watched his oldest son open up his medical bag.

"Just let him do his job. He knows what he's doing," Jay agreed with Will. Then, he remembered something. "Where's Y/N?"

"At school."

"At school? At 5 pm?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes she stays after school and does homework. She's always home before it gets too late so I don't ask."

It's not like Jay and Will could have known this, though. Yes, you would talk and they're obviously there for you because they're your brothers, but your dad's parenting skills--or lack thereof--hadn't ever come up. You'd get together with your brothers once a week, but it was usually at one of your brothers' places. They rarely came inside your and your dad's place.

"All units, we have reports of a robbery at 3020 East Main Street. Assistance requested," Jay's radio stated.

Jay looked to Will, silently asking if it was okay for him to take it. "I've got it from here."

"Thanks, man," Jay said, clapping Will on the back and leaving the house.

He drove to the small corner market that had made the call. It was only a block away from where you and your dad lived, but despite it usually being somewhat slow, today it was even slower. There was only one car parked in the lot, so Jay was confused as to who would even rob this place.

He put on his vest and walked into the store. "Got a call about a robbery," he said to the store manager as he entered.

"Yes, right over here."

He led Jay over to where a girl was sitting on a stool, tears rolling down her face. She held a box of pasta, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of peanut butter. Her coat was unzipped, revealing the tampons and pads she had stuffed inside her coat after she had ripped open the box.

"Y/N?" Jay asked in disbelief. "What are you doing? What were you even thinking?"

"I- I'm sorry," you sniffled.

Then he turned to the store manager. "You called the cops on a fifteen-year-old girl for grabbing what looks to me like necessities?"

"I've let her go the past two times when she needed things, but today she didn't have the money, so I couldn't let it slide."

Jay threw $30 in the man's hand. "There. Now it's all paid for." He turned to you and took the loaf of bread. "C'mon."

You followed him out of the store, waiting to be yelled at as you entered his truck, but it didn't come. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he handed you the bread. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"There- There's barely any food in the house. I was just hungry."

Jay looked you up and down. He hadn't been really looking for changes in weight like he told Natalie he would do six months ago. He kept it up for a few months and then winter came around and it was hard to tell because of bulky jackets and sweaters. But, now that he actually looked at your face and hands in an investigative manner, it was clear as day: You had lost even more weight.

"And the other stuff?" he asked.

"Dad won't buy them for me. Says that they're too expensive and to just use something else. He said that if he had had a son he wouldn't have to worry about it, like it's my fault. Usually, I take some from school, but I ran out and I needed them."

"And the food?" Jay asked as he started driving back to his childhood home.

"I get breakfast and lunch at school, but I have to eat dinner at home. And on weekends I just skip meals and eat breakfast and dinner."

"What? What about Dad?"

"He gets takeout or he goes to the bar and isn't home until late."

Jay sighed as he pulled into the driveway. "Go pack a bag, kid. You're staying at my place until further notice."

"Really? I thought you guys forgot about me?"

"We could never forget about you. It's just, work has been busy for both of us. So, sorry if these last few times we've all been together for dinner have seemed a little rushed. Now, go inside and grab your stuff while I have a chat with Will and Dad."

"Dad, Will," Jay said after you had run upstairs and they were sitting on the couch. "I need to talk to you. In the kitchen."

"Really, Jay. Why can't it be here?" your dad grumbled. "First he--" He pointed to Will. "Wants to take me to the hospital because he said I have a valve issue and now I can't even have a conversation with my sons while sitting down?"

"Just get up, dammit!"

The three entered the kitchen and sat down, but Jay stayed standing. "Jay, what's going on?" Will asked.

Instead of answering his older brother, Jay just opened the fridge. There was a half drank gallon of milk, a jar of grape jelly, and a can of pasta sauce, along with other condiments, and a lone egg sat on a shelf. "This? This is what you expect your daughter to eat? I caught her stealing from a store just so she could get food and tampons!"

"Well, I'm not gonna pay for it."

"Excuse you?" Will exclaimed, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What do you mean you're not paying for it? She's your daughter, isn't she? Then you have a legal responsibility to feed her, make sure she has shelter, clothes, and goes to school!"

"She can go get a job."

"She is fucking fifteen!" Jay yelled. "She doesn't need to be worrying about where her next meal is coming from! She's supposed to be worrying about getting a good grade on a math test or if that boy likes her or not, but not that!"

"She needs to learn to grow up someday. And she won't if you boys baby her like you always do whenever you see her."

"Baby her?" Will yelled, disgusted. "She's a kid. She needs to be babied sometimes. She needs fucking food and a nice home to come home to, not whatever the hell you think this is."

"It hasn't been a home since your mother died."

"Yeah, we gathered that," Jay scoffed. "But you don't have to take it out on her."

"Jay," your small voice said from the doorway into the kitchen. All three men looked over to you, your backpack on your back, a duffle bag slung over your shoulder, and your favorite blanket wadded up in your hands so that you could carry it without it dragging on the ground.

"Ready to go?" Jay asked, his voice immediately softening.

"Uh, yeah," you answered, unsure of how your dad would react.

"What do you mean ready to go?" Pat Halstead asked, standing up from where he had been previously sitting at the table. "She's not going anywhere!"

Will rushed over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder while Jay stalked over to be face to face with your dad. "She is coming with me until further notice. You're lucky I don't arrest your ass for child neglect!"

"You wouldn't do that to your own father!"

Jay pulled the cuffs out of his back pocket. "Oh yeah? Try me."

He sat back down and Jay turned to you. "Here, let me take that." You handed him your duffle bag and followed him and Will outside.

"Jay, I gotta go. I gotta get Dad to Med to get the valve fixed. And, I said one hour out of the hospital tops and it's been two."

Jay closed the truck door once you were safely inside with all your stuff. "Good luck trying to get Dad to go the hospital," he scoffed. "Get going. Don't give Goodwin another reason to fire your stupid ass."

"I'll call an ambulance if I have to." Then, Will smacked Jay upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You know what it was for. And, I'm your older brother, it's my job."

"I'm your older brother, it's my job," Jay mocked. "But, in all seriousness, do me a favor and make sure Y/N's all caught up on her immune- immune--"

"Immunizations?" Will laughed.

"Yeah, those."

"I'll do that. And if she's not, I'll give them to her tonight when I come over to your place after my shift is done...which will be in like two hours...depending on how much of a pain in the ass he is to get in the hospital."

Jay nodded, and then got in the truck, both of you making your way to his place.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Jay said after you had put your stuff down by the couch. "You have homework?"

"Yeah," you looked down, not wanting to even try and struggle through your homework...or have Jay sign the slip that said that you failed your last test.

Jay smiled. "I'll help you with it when I'm out of the shower, okay, kid?"

"How'd you know--"

"That is the universal facial expression of I need help, but I don't know how to ask for it. I'll be ten minutes tops."

And so, you tried to struggle through your homework for ten minutes. But, you ended up working and reworking the stupid algebra problem. Why did math need letters anyway?

"Okay, I'm back," Jay said as he pulled a chair out to sit next to you. "What are you workin' on?"

"Can you sign this first?" you asked, sliding the yellow paper over to him along with the pen. You hoped he'd just sign it blind, but as you saw his eyes skimming the page, you knew that wouldn't happen.

"Did you try your best?" he asked as he slid the piece of paper back to you after signing it.

"What? Yeah, of course, I did."

"Okay, then we'll figure something out. Now, how about we eat some dinner? I've got pizza in the freezer. That okay?"

"That's great," you answered.

Jay got the pizza in the oven while you went and changed into your pajamas. You decided it was in your best interest to have Will help you with your math homework.

***

"Ah! The man of the hour!" Jay exclaimed as he pulled out the pizza and Will entered the house.

You immediately noticed the red bag he was carrying over his shoulder and the two king-sized Twix bars.

"Why do you have your medical bag?" you asked.

"How did you know this was my medical bag?"

"I'm not stupid, Will."

"Okay, so you're all caught up on your shots, but I need to do a blood draw because I need to see if you're deficient in any vitamins and minerals. Have you been eating enough fruits and veggies?" he asked.

"Probably not as much as I should," you admitted. "They're too expensive unless I get the canned kind and I don't like those unless it's canned peaches. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Short Stack. None of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it. I just need to take the blood and then get it sent to the lab to see if you need to get any specific pills to get your vitamin and mineral levels up."

"Okay. Does it hurt?" you asked. You knew what a shot felt like, but you'd never had your blood drawn before, so you didn't know what it felt like to have a needle in your arm for a long time, taking blood. You knew what it felt like to have an IV in from when you passed out at the movie theater, but you didn't know if this needle would be the same size or bigger.

"You just feel a slight pinch at the beginning."

"Like getting a shot?"

"Like getting a shot," he confirmed.

"Hey, I was thinking," Jay started as he reappeared from the kitchen area, "what if we have celery and carrots with ranch for dinner, too? You know, like when we eat chicken wings at restaurants and they bring you some veggies, except we'll have ours with pizza."

"Okay," you agreed. "I like ranch."

"So does everyone in the midwest," Will joked.

"What's the medical bag for?" Jay asked. "She needs shots? And, what's with the Twix bars?"

"No, I'm drawing her blood to see if she's deficient in anything. And, there's one Twix bar for her and one for you because we all know how you feel about needles, Jay."

Jay rolled his eyes. "We doing this before we eat?"

"Yes. And, I need you to answer some questions for me, Y/N. These are strictly doctor protocol questions, okay? You don't need to be embarrassed about any of the answers."

You nodded.

"Okay," Will started, "When did you last eat? Just need to write it down for fasting glucose levels."

"Um, lunch at school, so around noon."

"So, six-hour fast," Will scribbled down on a piece of paper. "Next one, are you sexually active?"

"Will!"

"It's just standard protocol, just in case I need to test for STDs."

"No, I am not. Next question."

"Okay, last one: When was your last period?"

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm not pregnant, I haven't had sex!"

Will chuckled. "It's not for that. Sometimes when people are deficient in vitamins and minerals, they can lose their period for months at a time, signaling that their body isn't healthy. The medical term is amenorrhea." But, what he wanted to say was that when girls are underweight, this can also happen. And, from seeing how baggy your sweatshirt and jeans were on you, he assumed that you'd lost ten pounds since last going to the doctor when you passed out in the movie theater parking lot, making your weight loss a grand total of 25 pounds, which would qualify you as being underweight.

"Oh. I started today."

"Okay, good to know. Any changes in length or heaviness of menstruation?"

"I swear, I'd rather have Natalie or April be asking me these questions," you grumbled. "But, yes, it's a lot lighter and it went from me having my periods for five days to two days. Can we please stop talking about this now?"

"Yeah, we're all done. Sorry about that, but it's protocol."

"Says the guy who's drawing my blood at Jay's apartment instead of in a hospital, where it should be done."

"Hey, I've worked in much worse conditions than this in Sudan. How much water did you drink today?"

"A lot."

"Okay, good." Will started to unzip his medical bag. He passed a Twix bar to Jay. "Here, eat this and focus on it so you don't focus on the needles and then freak out."

Jay rolled his eyes, but took the candy bar and unwrapped it.

"Do I get one?" you asked.

"Once I draw your blood, yes, the other one is for you. Now, right or left arm?"

You held out your left arm and Will moved to the other side of you so he had a better angle. He sanitized his hands and then snapped on a pair of gloves.

"So, what do you do?" you asked. "I've never had my blood drawn before."

"I just tie off your arm so that I can get the veins to show a bit better, wipe down the spot with an antiseptic wipe, stick the needle in, and then wait for the vial to fill up."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Can you make a fist with your left hand for me?"

You did as Will told you and then he tied a band around your bicep and started touching the inside of your elbow, trying to get some veins to show. He furrowed his eyebrows and moved down your arm, rubbing your forearm and then going back up to the crook of your elbow and gently pressing there.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

"You just have really small veins is all. I could take the blood from the big vein in your forearm, but I don't really want to do that one since it's so big. Can you squeeze your fist tighter for me?" You did as he said while he kept pressing on the crook of your elbow. "There we go. Got one. Now, turn and look at Jay while I get the needle ready."

You looked at Jay and tried not to laugh. "You okay?"

"Me? I should be asking you that," he replied. "You're the one who's about to get stabbed with a needle."

"It's just that you got some sweat on your forehead. You look nervous."

"They're needles. They're tiny little sharp metal objects and if one breaks off--"

"Jay, respectfully," Will started, cutting off his brother, "shut the hell up, so you don't scare my patient. You might just want to look away instead of watching me. Then you might feel fine." Then, he turned back to you. "Okay, Y/N, keep looking at Jay. Close your eyes if you want to. You're going to feel a small pinch."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and grit your teeth, trying not to yell out as the needle pierced your skin.

"Hard part's done," Will said. You nodded, still keeping your eyes closed.

"That was not a small pinch," you retorted about a minute later.

"Sorry."

You opened your eyes and watched as the blood flowed from your vein into the small tube that was hooked up to the needle.

"I thought you hated blood," Jay pointed out. "And here you are, watching the entire process."

"I'm fine when it's my blood if it's not a huge, deep cut," you explained. "It's other people's blood I don't like."

"Well, that takes any job in the medical field off your career choices," Will said.

You sat there for a few more minutes, waiting for the vial to fill up. Will pressed on your arm, close to the needle, to see if more would come out. "This vein is really small," he said.

You watched as the blood coming into the tube started becoming slower and slower, in what looked to be bubbles.

"Just a little more," Will muttered.

You started taking deeper breaths as you felt sweat start to bead on your forehead.

"Okay, let's see how much this gave me." He pressed his thumb above where the needle was and you turned back to Jay as he removed the needle.

Then, he got the blood into the vial. "Bad news," he started, "I might need to take more. Let's see how much extra there is." He put the extra into another, smaller vial. "Yeah, this one clotted too, so bad news, we need more."

You nodded and closed your eyes, feeling your face get hot and starting to feel lightheaded. You pinched the bridge of your nose, willing this uncomfortable feeling to go away.

"You doing okay?" Will asked.

"Yeah," you answered.

"Okay, I'm gonna do your right arm this time." You held your right arm out to him. "Make a fist for me." You did as he told you and he tied the blue band around your bicep.

But, you were getting even dizzier. "Actually, can I get some water? I feel dizzy."

"Course," Will said. "Jay, can you get her some water and juice if you have any?"

"Apple juice good?"

"That's fine," you answered.

Will untied the band from your bicep. "We're just going to wait a few minutes until you feel less dizzy before I take more blood, okay?"

You nodded and took the water from Jay when he came back.

"Let's have the juice after I finish," Will suggested after a few minutes had passed and you finished the water. "Feeling better, Short Stack?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with." Your forehead was still a bit sweaty, but you were a lot less dizzy.

Will repeated the same process as the last arm and it went a lot faster. Turns out he picked a bit bigger vein in the crook of your elbow of this arm than he did the other one.

"And, we're done," Will said as he capped the vial.

He handed you the juice. "Thanks," you said. "That was not fun."

"I bet. At least you didn't pass out. I've had a few patients do that when I went through my clinicals. That's why normally when someone gets their blood drawn, they sit in this chair where something is flipped down in front of them so they don't fall out of the chair just in case they pass out."

"Jay, do you pass out?" you asked.

He scoffed. "No. I don't even get dizzy. My body doesn't react like that."

"He just breaks out into a sweat whenever he sees needles," Will whispered, loud enough for Jay to hear.

"Hey! I heard that! Take one more jab at me and you won't be getting any pizza, Will. I mean it!"

Will held his hands up in a mock surrender while you finished up your juice. Then, Will started to pack up his medical stuff and Jay brought the pizza and veggies and ranch out, along with plates of course.

You ate your pizza while Will helped you with your math homework. Once you finished two slices of pizza and some celery and ranch, you said that you were done.

"You sure?" Jay asked. "You can have as much as you want."

"I'm good. Gotta save some for tomorrow." Your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm gonna go take a shower. It's been a long day."

"Okay, clean towels are in the cabinet in the bathroom where they always are," Jay said, trying not to react to what you had just said even though he knew exactly what you were doing.

You were rationing food.

"Fuck," Jay said as he put his head in his hands when he knew you were in the bathroom and out of earshot.

"What? What did she mean by gotta save some for tomorrow?" Will asked.

"She's rationing it. I used to do it in Afghanistan. Save some of my MRE and put it in my pack to eat the next day if I was on a long trek and we knew we wouldn't get back to base. It would be cold and usually disgusting, but I'd choke it down because it was calories and I needed fuel to be sharp in case we came in contact with combatants."

"Poor kid. At least we had Mom."

Jay nodded. "What happened with Dad at the hospital?"

"Had to have a mitral valve replacement because his wasn't working properly. Told him over and over to get his checked regularly, but he didn't because he's stubborn. He went for the non-surgical option first, but then there were complications, so Rhodes performed surgery. He's fine."

"That's good... I guess." Jay glanced around and he saw your duffle bag sitting outside the bathroom door. You had grabbed your clothes to bring them into the bathroom and left your open duffle bag by the door.

Jay stood up and started walking towards it.

"What are you doing?" Will hissed.

"I need to see if she's got anything else in there that will help prove neglect. I'm assuming it needs to be proved...I only know criminal court cases, don't know much about family court cases."

"What do you mean family court? You're going to fight Dad to be able to take care of her?"

"Yeah, I'll fight to be her legal guardian. Unless you want to do it. My loan went through for a new apartment, which has two bedrooms, so I figured I might be better suited."

"Go ahead. You'd probably have a better chance anyway because you were around more when I was in New York."

Jay nodded and started to dig around your duffle bag. He chuckled and pulled out your Build-A-Bear. "She still sleeps with Beary," he said as he held up the stuffed bear. "Probably doesn't change his clothes anymore because she's too old for that, but he's in pajamas."

"Remember that military uniform you got for her bear? Mom said she barely took Beary out of that because she missed you so much."

"Yeah, and if she wouldn't have dropped him at the airport, I might not have met Mouse."

The two fell into a comfortable silence as he continued to dig through your bag. He got to a big zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric that were stained light reds and browns.

"Will, c'mere," Jay said, waving him over. Will squatted down next to Jay. "You know what this is?"

Will sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I saw a lot of this when I worked in Sudan."

"Well, what is it?"

"So, when girls don't have access or money to buy feminine hygiene products, they'll use scraps of fabric and wash them. Looks to me like she cut up some, um, she cut up some underwear and then used them as make-shift pads. If they aren't taken care of properly, she could end up with an infection. And, if she tried to use them as tampons instead of pads, it could lead to TSS, which stands for Toxic Shock Syndrome."

"We're gonna have to talk to her about this now, aren't we?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. She's not gonna be happy you dug through her stuff, so I'll let you explain why you were going through it. And, if she used them as tampons, I want her to get a pelvic exam, just to make sure she didn't get any infections. Much more likely to get an infection from tampons than pads."

Jay nodded. He hated having the current conversation and knew he was going to hate the next one even more, but he knew he had to do these things if he wanted to petition the court for legal guardianship.

Jay picked up your duffle bag and brought it to the living room and he set the zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric on top.

"I can't believe we missed this," Will said. "I mean, we're both trained in how to spot abuse and we couldn't even spot it in our little sister."

"There weren't outright signs," Jay said. "No bruising, limping, cuts, burns, nothing like that. And, it's winter, it's easy to hide the weight loss. But, I still agree with you. If we would've spotted it earlier, we could've gotten her out of there."

"I'm pretty sure she's officially underweight now."

Jay ran a hand through his hair and then stood back up. "I'm gonna go put clean sheets on my bed. I'll let Y/N take it tonight so that we can keep talking out here when she goes to sleep."

"Good idea."

A few minutes later, Jay was back on the couch next to Will and you walked out of the bathroom, wearing a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants that you had to keep pulling up because they were too big on you now, and a pair of fuzzy socks. You were cold all the time now and wanted your hoodie out of your duffle and wanted to put your dirty clothes in there, but when you looked down to the spot where you thought you had put it, it wasn't there.

"Guys?" you asked. "Have you seen my bag?"

You walked over to the kitchen table where your blanket was sitting on the chairs and wrapped that around yourself instead.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw your brothers on the couch, your duffle bag in front of them on the floor, and on top, your bag of ripped-up, old underwear that you used as pads when you didn't have any.

"You went through my stuff?" you asked, starting to become angry.

"Y/N," Jay started, "I know you're mad and it was me who went through it and not Will, so don't be mad at him, be mad at me. But, I went through it to see if anything was in there that could help me get you out of dad's house. Permanently."

"You- You want to have custody of me?" you asked.

A small smile appeared on Jay's lips and he nodded. "It wouldn't be considered custody because I'm not your biological parent, it would be considered guardianship, but yes, I want you to stay with me. And, my loan went through for a new apartment, so you'd have your own room and everything."

"Okay."

Jay looked at Will, not wanting to be the one to start this conversation. And, he figured Will would be the best one to start it because he was a doctor.

"Y/N, we need to ask you about these." Will motioned to the zip-lock bag on top of your stuff.

You sat in the loveseat across from them and looked down at your feet.

"It's okay, you're not in trouble," Will continued. "We just want to know how you used them in case you need to get a pelvic exam to check for infections in that area."

Your lip began to tremble as tears started to roll down your cheeks. "I used them as pads," you said quietly. "Dad wouldn't buy me any and I stopped getting them from school because I thought they'd suspect something was wrong if I- if I kept taking them."

"One more question," Will said softly. "I just need to know in case we need to take you in for this. I know you said you used them as pads, but did you ever try and use them as tampons?"

"No. I only used them as pads," you whispered. "I was scared to use them as tampons." You looked up at your brothers, who both had tears in their eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you rushed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner I was just--" You let out a wail and Jay got up and knelt in front of you.

"Hey, hey, none of this is your fault. Do you hear me? Absolutely none of this is on you. It's all on Dad. Every single bit of it. You are not the one to blame."

You launched yourself into his arms, crying out every emotion you had felt these past few months: anger, frustration, fear, sadness, it was all coming out now.

And, Jay just held you and let you cry it out because that was what your guys' mom used to do for him. And, he knew it worked.

Twenty minutes later, your wails were just quiet whimpers and you pushed yourself back up onto the loveseat, where Will had moved to the spot next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into him, craving the comfort that had been denied to you for so long.

"You still have that Twix bar?" you asked.

"All that crying made you hungry, didn't it, Short Stack?" Will asked as Jay got up to retrieve the candy bar from the table.

You nodded.

"Thank you," you said when Jay handed you the Twix bar. You unwrapped it and broke it into the two sticks. "You guys want any?" They both shook their heads: they knew you needed to get as many calories in you as possible.

Jay sighed, he might as well get this hard conversation over with you tonight as well. "Y/N, you can eat as much as you want. I won't say anything about you eating too much, okay?"

You looked up from your candy bar. "You won't call me a burden because I'm eating your food? Like Dad did?"

"He said that?" Will asked, giving Jay a look that read when I see him next, I can't be held accountable for my actions.

"Yeah. One time there were some leftovers he had gotten from a bar and I was so hungry and it was the middle of the night, so I took them out and heated them up. The microwave timer must've woken him up because he came out just as I was about to start eating and then he yelled at me for eating his food and called me a burden."

"Well, we don't think that. Neither Will nor me think that," Jay told you. "And you can eat as much as you want."

You yawned as you crumpled up your Twix wrapper.

"Tired?" Will asked.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

"It's been a long day," Jay said. "You can take my bed."

"Jay, it's your apartment, I can't--"

"Y/N, this isn't up for discussion. I already put clean sheets on the bed for you."

"Is- Is there a fan in your room? I can't sleep without white noise."

"There is. You want me and Will to tuck you in?"

"I'm too old for that." You stood up and Will did, too. "Jay, can you hand me Beary? He should be in my duffle."

"Here you go, kid."

You took your bear and held him loosely in your arm. Then, you enveloped Jay in a hug and did the same for Will.

"I love you guys."

"We love you, too," Will said.

"Now get to sleep. You've still got school in the morning. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Dad sometimes wouldn't be home when I woke up for school. He'd be at a friend's house sleeping off a hangover from the night before or just sleeping."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "Doesn't he have to work?"

"He does work, but only a few days a week. The other days, he stays out really late and then comes home either drunk or hungover."

"I see," Jay stated. "Well I won't be doing that, I can promise you that."

"I know. You aren't like Dad. Neither of you are." You yawned again. "I'm going to bed, goodnight."

A few minutes later, you were out like a light and Will was still at Jay's apartment.

"So, Abby called me the other day," Will started. "She's looking for you. Says she's in town for a few days and wants to meet up."

"Oh yeah? She say why?" Jay asked, wondering why his ex-wife--who was the result of a blackout drunk wedding in Vegas, a thing that lasted only 24 hours tops--was in Chicago and was looking for him of all people.

"She said you two are still married."

Jay threw his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

***

"Morning," Jay said as he stood at the stove flipping some eggs. "Sleep good?"

"I slept really good. Didn't even hear you wake up."

"Fan did the trick then?"

You nodded and grabbed a mug from the cupboard and went to start pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

"Nuh-uh," Jay chirped, putting his hand on the handle of the coffee pot as well.

"Why not? I drank it at Dad's."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "You drank coffee at Dad's?"

"Yeah, on the weekends sometimes that would be my breakfast because it curbs my appetite and there wasn't a lot to eat."

Jay sighed. "Well, you'll have enough to eat here, I can promise you that. And, coffee stunts your growth."

"Jay," you groaned. "I haven't grown since sixth grade."

"Okay, well, then you don't want to become dependent on it at such an early age, then. Come talk to me when you're a legal adult or in college."

"Fine." You let go of the coffee pot and put the mug back in the cupboard.

"You can have juice though." The toast in the toaster popped up and Jay placed the toast on a plate and then put a slice of cheese on each piece and then an egg on top. He also put a small bowl of strawberries next to it. "I'm gonna go get dressed while you eat. And then, once you're ready, I'll take you to school."

"Okay, thanks, Jay."

"You're welcome, kiddo."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname and then went to the fridge to get the apple juice. When you opened the fridge, you saw a brown paper bag with your name on it. Curiosity got the best of you, so you took it out and looked at the contents while you ate your breakfast.

Inside was a ham and Colby jack cheese sandwich with lettuce, pickles, mustard, and mayonnaise, an apple, a coconut-flavored Greek yogurt, celery with peanut butter, and a chocolate chip granola bar. There were also two dollars at the bottom of the bag paperclipped together with a sticky note stuck to the top.

For chocolate milk. ~Jay was what the note read.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you continued to eat your breakfast. You don't remember the last time you brought a lunch to school; you'd always get your lunch for free at school. When you got the paper from school about the free/reduced lunch because teachers noticed you didn't have much to eat, you waited until your dad was hungover and it was early in the morning, and handed him a pen and he signed the paper blindly. And, that's how you got lunch and breakfast at school without any cost to you or your dad.

"Hey, I can just brush my teeth at the kitchen sink if you want the bathroom--" He cut himself off when he saw the tears in your eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You- You made me lunch?" you asked as you turned to face him.

He smiled. "Of course I did. I know how bad cafeteria food can be. And, if it tastes good, it's usually not very good for you."

"Thank you," you said as you wiped a tear away that had rolled down your cheek.

"Aww, hey, don't cry, don't cry. It's okay. You're safe now. You don't need to worry about where your next meal will come from. And, I'm going to petition a judge for legal guardianship in a few days. I just have to have a few conversations with some lawyers."

"Does this mean you have to move? I don't want to kick you out of your apartment."

Jay dismissed that with a wave. "I already put in a loan application for a new apartment. Two bedrooms. Really nice."

"Can you tell me about it? While I finish eating my strawberries."

Jay nodded and sat down in the chair across from you. "It's a two-bedroom, washer, dryer. But, I know you don't care about those things. There's underground parking. It's got a gym, a whole club level, with like a coffee lounge, and all this other stuff."

"That sounds really nice."

"Yeah, it is a pretty nice building. Coffee lounge would be perfect for you to get your homework done if you don't feel like staying in the apartment."

"I thought you said I couldn't drink coffee?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I meant the caffeine in the coffee. Decaf coffee and lattes and tea lattes, that's a different story. I'm sure they have pastries there, too."

"Never pegged you for a coffee snob," you joked.

"You learn a lot about coffee and about a person when you have to get your entire unit coffee. I'll let you in on a little secret: Ruzek's coffee order is the most complicated."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, go finish getting ready. Don't want you being late for school."

***

"Hey, Er, can you meet me at the diner we usually go to?" Jay asked his girlfriend over the phone after he had dropped you off at school.

"Yeah, no problem. Give me fifteen minutes. We haven't caught a case yet, but we should keep our radios on just in case. Everything okay?"

"It's a long story. I'll explain everything in person, okay?"

"Okay," Erin answered skeptically. "I'll see you in a few."

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Erin walked into the little diner and spotted Jay sitting in the corner booth.

"Alright, what's going on?" she asked after she had ordered her food and some coffee. "You sounded really stressed on the phone."

Jay sighed. "I'm going to fight for legal guardianship of Y/N."

"What? Why? What happened?" Erin asked as she widened her eyes.

"Our dad, he uh, he hasn't really been the greatest. Not keeping food in the house, calling her a burden when she tries to eat some of his food, not buying her products for you know...girl stuff. She's probably lost like 25 pounds since the end of last school year. And, I know that doesn't sound like a lot with the amount of time that's passed, but she's underweight. Will drew some of her blood last night to see if she's deficient in some vitamins or minerals."

"My God."

"Yeah, so, I know we were going to move into your place together, but I need another bedroom and my loan went through at that place I told you about, so I'm going to put an offer in there. You could always move in with me if you want, but I don't know if it would be a good idea for that to happen right away. I just want to get Y/N healthy again. I'm sorry."

"Jay, I get it. She's family. Do you know how you're going to go about this? Did you talk to Voight about taking any time off to sort this out?"

"Not yet. But, I think I'm going to call Antonio and see if he can help me out with getting a meeting with ASA Stone. I know he works criminal cases, but he's gotta know some stuff about family court cases. So, I figured he might be able to help me with this whole process."

"Good idea. If you need any help, just say the word and I'll be there."

Jay smiled. "Thanks, Er." He didn't want to have the conversation he was about to have, but he knew he had to tell her. "There's uh, there's one more thing I need to tell you."

"Okay, what is it?"

"About eight years ago, I was married."

"Excuse me, what? You were married and you didn't tell me?"

Jay knew this was a bad idea...which was why he hadn't wanted to tell Erin, but now that he wasn't officially divorced for whatever reason, he knew needed to tell her. "Just let me explain."

"Yes, please do," Erin sneered.

"Her name's Abby. She ran Cultural Support during my last tour in Kandahar. About a year after I came home, I saw her at a funeral in Vegas. Was... was a guy in our unit, he had redeployed, and, um, he didn't... Um, I was, like, blacking out most nights, and we were both pretty shook up. And, um, we got married." He chuckled at the thought of his twenty-one-year-old self thinking that marriage was a good idea. "It was, like, a 24-hour thing, it was a total joke, and it is long over."

Erin just stared at him, as he waited to be chewed out by her. "Jay, you married this girl. And you never told me, and you were never gonna tell me," was all she said.

"I know. And, I'm sorry. But, I'm meeting up with her in a few days to sign the documents that I thought I'd signed because she's getting married and we need to make the divorce official...even though, in my mind, it's been official for eight years.

"Er, please don't hate me, but with everything going on, with me trying to get guardianship of Y/N and me finding out that I'm somehow still married--"

"You want us to take a break?" Erin asked, finishing his sentence for him.

Jay nodded. "I'm sorry. I just don't think I can juggle a relationship with all this other stuff. And, it's not fair to you."

Erin swallowed. "Well, just tell me if you need any help with Y/N. I'll always be there for you. Relationship or partnership, I'll always have your six."

"And I'll always have yours."

Erin's phone buzzed on the table and she picked it up. "It's Voight. We caught a case."

Jay laid some bills on the table. "Then let's go."

***

"Got the results of Y/N's bloodwork back," Will told Jay over the phone while he had a quick break for lunch...even though it was four o'clock in the afternoon. But, that's the thing about the medical field: breaks are never regular.

"And? Any deficiencies?" Jay asked, walking into his bedroom as you were at the table doing homework and he didn't want to distract you.

"Yes, two actually. Iron and riboflavin. The low iron explains why her periods have become shorter and lighter, but that can also be attributed to how small she is now."

"How do we go about this then?"

"I'll send you a list of foods that have levels high iron and riboflavin. Oh, riboflavin's found in vitamin B by the way."

"Okay, care to tell me what iron and riboflavin do? I know iron helps with hemoglobin and red blood cells, but I have no idea what riboflavin does."

"You're right about iron. I'm shocked. Or, what do the kids say these days? I'm shook."

"I swear to God, please never use that phrase again. And, I know what iron does because I paid attention in high school nutrition class, thank you very much."

"If I remember correctly, I helped you with most of the homework in that class."

"Whatever, you helped me. Now, tell me about riboflavin."

"So, riboflavin just helps convert food into energy and is needed for healthy skin, hair, blood, and a healthy brain." Jay could hear a beeping in the background on Will's end. "Gotta go. I'll send you that list of foods right now, though."

"Thanks, man."

You looked up as Jay came back into the kitchen. "Everything okay?" you asked.

Jay pulled out a chair and sat across from you. "So, I just got off the phone with Will. He got the results from your bloodwork back."

"Is it bad? Am I dying?" You set your pencil down, bracing yourself for bad news.

"No," Jay chuckled, "you're not dying. You just don't have enough iron and riboflavin, which is a specific B vitamin. Will sent me a list of foods that have high levels of those in them. You up for some grocery shopping? We can also grab some multivitamins that have those in them, too, just to help your levels stabilize faster."

"Okay, we can go now. I'm due for a break."

***

"So, some foods that contain riboflavin include milk, eggs, cheese, yogurt, meats, green leafy vegetables, and riboflavin enriched grains and cereals," Jay read off his phone.

"I've had a lot of those today already," you pointed out. "Eggs and cheese with breakfast. I had that yogurt for a snack at school, and I had meat and cheese on my sandwich and I had chocolate milk with my lunch at school."

That was just standard, Jay thought. He wondered what you ate when you were at your Dad's. And, he knew that if he wanted to obtain guardianship of you, he'd need to know these things.

"What did you eat at Dad's?" Jay probed.

"I mean, I barely made it to school on time most mornings because I was trying to be quiet so I didn't wake Dad, which made me move slower when getting ready. So, I'd usually just grab a small thing of dry cereal when I got to school and eat it in my first class. I never checked to see if it was one of the enriched ones. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. There's no way you could've known. Now, what did you usually have for lunch at school?"

"I always tried to get veggies with my lunch, but most of the veggies were the gross canned ones, like canned corn or green beans. I don't like those. Sometimes, they'd have little salads as a side and I'd get those. Sometimes they'd have yogurt parfaits and I'd get those. But, I'd usually go for the pre-made subs, because at least those would have veggies on them...even if it was just lettuce and pickles. I'd usually try to get an apple or banana as my side, too." You paused. "If I was getting meat and cheese from the sub and milk from my chocolate milk, then how am I deficient in this?"

"It's probably because the meat and cheese schools use is so heavily processed that there are little to no vitamins left in it," Jay answered.

"And you know this how?"

"As you get older, you acquire a lot of knowledge and one of those things is that the more processed a food is, the fewer vitamins and minerals are preserved...and I watch a lot of The Food that Built America on the History channel."

"Oh, okay. What foods are on that show?"

"Usually it's about fast food. One episode I watched last week was about ice cream and popsicles and how they came to be in America. Pretty interesting."

"Can we watch an episode tonight? That show sounds good."

"Of course." He paused in front of the fresh produce. "Take your pick. But, just make sure you get some leafy greens for the riboflavin and some fruit and other green veggies for iron."

You picked up a few things such as more apples, a bag of Clementines, bananas, spinach, carrots, and celery, and then, you shocked your brother as you picked up a bag of kale.

"Kale?" he asked. "Didn't know you liked it."

You shrugged. "I heard it tastes kind of like spinach. And, I saw a recipe on Pinterest for a salad that has kale, lemon juice, and dates. Is it okay if we try that?"

"You know, I think that would be the perfect side for dinner tonight. I'll add lemon juice and dates to the list."

"I didn't grab too many fruits and veggies, right?" you asked, not wanting to waste food or your brother's hard-earned money. "I- I can put some back if you want me to."

"Nope, it's all good. We can always freeze the bananas if they go bad for smoothies or banana bread. And, we can always turn the apples into apple sauce. Spinach and kale freeze well, too and you can't even taste them if we put them in smoothies."

"How do you know this stuff?" you asked.

"I used to watch Mom cook a lot when I was little. And, when I moved out on my own, she gave me a copy of a cookbook she always used. Said the recipes at the beginning of the book were simple enough that I wouldn't burn my apartment down."

You laughed at the thought of your mom scolding Jay if his apartment got ruined from his cooking. "Do you still have it?" you asked. "The cookbook, I mean."

"I do."

"Can we make something out of it tonight?"

"You know, I think that's a great idea." He pursed his lips. "How about Mom's chicken pot pie? I think I have some frozen peas and corn in the freezer and we can use the carrots we just grabbed in it, too."

"That sounds really good. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me." Jay paused. He figured now would be as good a time as any to tell you. "Uh, do you remember the day that we got ice cream and went and played soccer with Ben when you were little? The night that Mom went into the hospital?"

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat at the memory of that day.

"Well, she told me to take care of you. There's no way I would break a promise to Mom."

"She said that?"

"Mhmm."

"It's like she knew something was going to happen."

"Mom was a smart lady. Will had to have gotten it from somewhere and he sure didn't get it from Dad."

You laughed. "Hey, you're smart, too. Just not sciency smart. You're more puzzle smart because you put the pieces together of who committed a crime." Jay laughed at your description of his job. "Oh, is the recipe for Mom's garlic mashed potatoes in that cookbook?"

"It is. Want those as a side along with the salad you mentioned?"

"Yes, please...if it's not a problem."

"They're super simple and quick to make." He scribbled on a piece of notebook paper that he had written down a few groceries on, like the salad ingredients you had mentioned. "Alright, potatoes, a rotisserie chicken, and pastry dough have all been added to the list."

***

"I'll be back later tonight, no later than midnight," Jay told you two days later on Sunday night. "I know it's not ideal because you have school in the morning, but try and get some sleep while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'm used to being home alone at night, Jay." You shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"I know, it's just that not something I want you to get used to. Feel free to eat anything you want, cook anything you want. As long as you don't burn down the house, I don't care what you make. Oh, and remember to take your multivitamin before bed."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm fifteen, not five. Now, get going. Don't want you to be late to meet that lawyer."

"Love you. I'll be back by midnight. Lock the door behind me."

"I will. Love you, too."

With that, Jay left his apartment to go meet with ASA Stone and you locked the door behind him as he told you.

***

"So, Antonio told me you have some custody questions," Peter Stone said once he closed the door of his office.

"That's right," Jay replied as he took a seat in front of Stone's desk and turned his phone completely off and Stone took a seat in his chair behind his desk.

"Didn't know you had a kid, Halstead."

"No, I don't actually," Jay chuckled. "I have a kid sister. Name's Y/N and she's fifteen."

"Okay, and why do you want guardianship then?"

"When me and Will, my older brother, were kids, our dad kinda checked out on parenting us when we hit our mid-teens. But, we had our mom around, so it was okay. I went over there the other day because my dad was having some heart issues and I called Will. When I was there, I got a call of a robbery and it was Y/N. She was stealing food from a corner store because our dad wasn't feeding her," Jay explained.

"I see. So, other than her word and her stealing food, do you have any proof of this?"

"I know I should've called DCFS before letting her stay with me, but I couldn't let her stay there a minute longer, Peter. She's lost like 25 pounds in the past six months and she's deficient in both iron and vitamin B."

"Okay, what we have to do is petition for guardianship in front of a judge. I can help you with the documents and I can even represent you at the hearing if you want."

"Wow, yeah, that'd be great. Thank you."

"Anything else you want to tell me about your dad? Any physical or emotional abuse?"

"Not technically, but there is something else." And then Jay launched into all the information you had told him two days ago.

"Okay. And, you know your dad could theoretically press kidnapping charges against you because you took his kid without his permission?"

"I do. But he was basically starving her. No jury would find me guilty."

"I'm not going to argue with you about that one because I agree with you."

"So, do you think I have a chance of getting guardianship over Y/N?"

"In theory, yes. But, most judges like to keep the child with their biological parents. But, seeing as Y/N's fifteen, she does get some say in who she stays with," Stone explained. "When we have a custody or guardianship battle, we use the child's best interest standard. This means that you must prove that you are capable of providing food, clothing, housing, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N. There will be one or two home visits before appearing before a judge, just to let you know."

"I'm aware of that. And, I just put an offer in on a new apartment with two bedrooms this morning and they're pretty quick in responding, so I should know in the next few days whether or not I got it."

"That's a good start. And you are financially stable to raise her until she turns eighteen, so three more years?"

"I am."

"Alright, let's start on those documents then. Unless you have any more questions for me?"

"I do actually. I, uh, I just found out that I'm technically still married. Something about me not signing the divorce papers even though I specifically remember signing them? And, before you ask, me and this girl served together, we were both twenty-one, going through rough patches and it was a Vegas wedding eight years ago. Lasted no more than twenty-four hours."

"It's really good that you told me this because any good lawyer would find that out when you file for guardianship. It's possible that she didn't co-sign the divorce papers. If that's the reason, I can help you draw up new divorce papers right now."

"Really? You'd help me with that?"

"Of course. A friend of Antonio's is a friend of mine," Stone said as he started typing on his computer. "So, what you can do is you can file for a no-fault divorce."

"You're gonna have to be specific, Stone. I know a bit of criminal law because I've had to testify in criminal cases, but like I said, I don't know family or civil law," Jay said.

"What a no-fault divorce is, Jay, is that you don't have to prove that either of you did anything wrong to get a divorce. All you have to do is state that your marriage is unsalvageable and continue filing for divorce."

"That's it? What if she doesn't sign it?"

"The divorce papers will be served to, uh...what's this girl's name again?" Stone asked.

"Abby."

"Abby. The divorce papers will be served to Abby and she has twenty days to file her response with the court. If she doesn't, then the court rules it as an uncontested divorce and then you're officially divorced."

"Me and Abby are meeting up to talk about all this tonight. But, can we just fill out paperwork for this no-fault divorce just in case things don't go as planned? I just really need to get guardianship of Y/N. The least amount of problems, the better."

"Of course. And if everything goes well with her tonight, then just give me a call and I'll shred the documents."

"Alright, just tell me where to sign."

***

"Wilson is running through the showers wearing nothing but a Kevlar vest, right?" Jay reminisced on the good parts of his Ranger days with Abby at a bar around 8:30 that night after his meeting with Peter Stone.

"Well, the lieutenant said, all outdoor activities to be conducted in body armor." Jay laughed at Abby's rendition of their lieutenant's voice. "Do you remember, he had his girlfriend's name tattooed on his ass?"

Jay set his empty drink down on the bar. "Did he tell you that was his girlfriend? That was his dog's name," Jay laughed.

"That actually makes more sense," Abby said. "I could go for another one of these."

"I, um, I shouldn't."

"Gotta get back to the barracks?"

"No, I uh gotta get back to my little sister, actually. I'm looking after her at the moment. It's a long story. Do you have the papers?"

"I, uh, I don't have them."

"Abby."

"It's just, I never told you. Even that crazy day we got married, I never told you that I loved you, Jay. It didn't feel right. But, I loved you, Jay. I do love you."

Jay sighed. "Abby, you deserve everything good. I'm just not the guy that's gonna give that to you." He brushed her hair to the side and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

After putting some money on the bar to pay for the drinks and tip the bartender, he left the bar. Guess he was going to need these no-fault divorce documents, anyway.

He was almost to his car when he heard someone calling his name. And, it was a voice he knew all too well.

"Erin?" he shouted as she came closer. "What are you doing here?"

"Would it kill you to turn on your phone? You need to get to the district. Now."

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

She got in his passenger seat. "Just drive. I'll explain on the way."

***

You were sitting on Jay's bed reading a book when you heard a knock on the door.

Slowly, you got off his bed and made your way out of his room. You took a knife out of the knife block, but you hoped you wouldn't need to use it. Jay would've told you if someone was planning on stopping over. And, if it was Will, he would've given you a heads-up.

The knocking got louder and more aggressive. "Jayson! Open this door! I have the right to see my daughter!"

Dad.

With the knife still in hand, you backed up and then, once on the carpet, ran back into Jay's room and quietly shut the door and locked it. You pulled out your phone and tried Jay. It went straight to voicemail. The pounding was getting louder. You tried Will. It went straight to voicemail because he was on shift. You thought you heard your dad starting to kick the door now instead of just pounding on it with his fists. You tried the last person you thought could help.

"Y/N?" Erin asked as she answered her phone and paused the tv show she was watching.

"Erin," you whispered. "I'm scared. I need help."

"You need help? Can you tell me why?"

"My dad, he's- he's here. He's looking for me." You heard a crash.

"Jay? Y/N? I know one of you is in here!"

"I- I think he just broke down the apartment door. Please help."

"Okay, okay, here's what you're going to do. I want you to hide somewhere and I'm going to call a patrol car over there right now. You're going to turn your phone on silent and I'm going to call you right back," she told you.

"Okay," you whispered as quietly as you could.

"I'll call you back in one minute tops."

You moved as quietly as you could with the knife and your phone still in your hands and opened Jay's closet door. You buried yourself behind the two garment bags that contained Jay's police blues and his military dress uniform, hoping against hope that your dad wouldn't find you.

Your phone lit up and it was Erin. You answered.

"Y/N, the officers will be there soon. I don't want you to talk. Just know that I'm on the phone with you."

At the same time, as she was talking to you over speakerphone, she was texting the team. She assumed you couldn't reach Jay or Will since you had called her. She told them what was happening and that a few of them needed to get to the district because they needed to find Jay's location. She also told Voight to get ahold of Sharon Goodwin so she could notify Will of what was currently happening.

"Chicago PD! Put your hands where we can see them!" you heard from your hiding place.

"See?" Erin said. "I told you that you'd be okay. I told them that you were hiding, so if someone opens the door, it's just an officer."

Just after she said that the closet door opened.

You squeaked.

"It's okay. You're safe," the officer said. "We're just going to take you down to the district. You're safe."

You peeked out from your hiding place and you saw the blues of the officers. You slowly made your way out and followed the officer out to the patrol car, the one that didn't house your dad for a breaking and entering charge at the moment.

***

"Where is she?" Jay yelled as he entered the district.

Platt just pointed to the bench next to one of the offices where you were sitting, staring at the floor, with a police jacket draped over your shoulders.

He sunk to his knees in front of you. "Are you hurt? Did Dad hurt you? Did he put his hands on you in any way?"

You shook your head.

"Oh thank God."

"I was so scared," you whispered. "When you and Will didn't answer, I thought he was gonna get me."

"I'm sorry. I turned off my phone when I talked to ASA Stone, and I forgot to turn it back on. I'm so sorry. C'mere."

You all but fell off the bench and into Jay's arms. "Is he going to jail? I don't want him going to jail."

"He was drunk out of his mind. I can ask not to press charges, though."

"Please. He needs help."

Although Jay didn't say it, he knew you were right. Jails and prisons didn't rehabilitate, they just taught criminals how to be better criminals. He knew that his dad needed rehab, a twelve-step program, anything.

"Okay, I won't press charges. But, I think we're gonna need to stay with Will for the night because our door's broken. What do you say we run home and grab some clothes to bring to Will's? And, since Dad will be here for a little longer, we can run to his house and get more of your stuff. Sound like a plan?"

"Can we get Dairy Queen on the way to Will's?"

"We sure can."

***

"I- I don't think any of these dresses will fit me anymore. They look way too big," you said to Jay as the two of you unpacked a bunch of your stuff in the guest room of Jay's new apartment. You wanted to think of it as the guest room for now instead of calling it your room just in case Jay wasn't awarded guardianship. You didn't want to get too attached.

Jay sighed. He figured you were right. He would see if Erin could take you, but their relationship was on the backburner right now. And, Erin had some stuff with Bunny she had to work out after she had brought her that pearl bracelet and said that she might be leaving Chicago. So, now wasn't really the right time for him to be bugging Erin about going shopping with you. And, he couldn't ask Kim because she was taking some furlough after finding her sister brutally sodomized after a night out.

He thought about asking Will if Nina could come, but he didn't think that those two were too happy with each other at the moment since Will hadn't told Nina about their dad being in the hospital and she had to find out from Natalie. Not Will's greatest moment.

He racked his brain for more women he knew.

Then it hit him: Gabby.

Yes, they had briefly dated, but that was five years ago. She was married now and his feelings for her were completely gone. They were civil with each other when they saw each other in the field and would chat when Gabby showed up at the district to pick up Eva or Diego.

"How about you try a few on after we finish unpacking, and then if none of them really fit, I can give Gabby a call and see if she'll take you shopping while I work on unpacking the rest of the house," Jay suggested.

"Okay. Will's gonna be over after his shift to help though, right?" you asked.

"He better be. He said he would. If he doesn't come, he better have a really good excuse."

"You can't unpack the kitchen without me," you told him.

"Why not?"

"I can't have you putting the glasses and other stuff on high shelves because I wanna reach them without having to climb on the counter."

"Okay, fine. I'll keep your short little height in mind while I unpack." He paused. "Do you want to get those fancy word stickers for your room for one of the walls?"

"Decals? And, it's not my room yet."

"Listen, after that stunt Dad pulled at my old apartment, Stone is 99.9% positive that I'll be granted guardianship. We just have to jump through all the hoops first."

"Like the home checks?"

"Like the home checks," he confirmed.

"What do I say in court?" you asked a few minutes later as you were putting the pillows on your freshly made bed.

"You just tell the truth," he answered.

"Will you be in there with me?"

"No, I won't. Stone said that usually in these cases you talk to the judge by yourself so that you can't be intimidated by either of the people who are fighting for custody or guardianship."

"So you won't be there? Will won't be there?"

"Will will be out in the hall and I will be in a different room. I'll be in like a witness room, where they make witnesses of a crime wait so that their testimony isn't swayed by what the other people are saying on the stand. But, me and Dad will be in the courtroom at the same time, just so I can see what he'll be saying."

"And, I'll be in there then, too?"

"Yes."

"What kind of questions do they ask me?"

"Stone said that since you're older, you get a say in who you stay with, so they'll ask you questions like who've you known the longest, who you feel safest with, who you want to live with, etc."

"Will they ask me questions about Dad? Like how he didn't give me food and how he broke into your apartment?" you asked.

"They will," Jay confirmed. "But, Stone will be in there for those questions just in case he needs to object to something."

"So the only time I'll be alone with the judge is when they're asking me the first few questions? Like who I feel safest with?"

"Exactly. Now, do you need help putting these books on the top shelf of your bookshelf?"

***

"Hey, how was your day?" Jay asked as he came home from work that afternoon. It was a shock that he was home by 5 pm, but you had a big day tomorrow. Not only was tomorrow Friday, it was the day you and Jay had to go to court to see if he would be awarded guardianship of you.

"We've got a problem," you stated.

"Um, I can try to help you with it, but let me go put my gun away first."

While he was doing that, you pulled out the slip of paper and the note that Gretchen Cunningham had written, saying that she wouldn't allow you to make up the test you would be missing because you had to go to court.

"Alright, what's the problem?" Jay asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Cunningham. She's the problem...as always."

You handed him the papers and he read them over. "Yeah, this isn't going to fly. She doesn't need a judge's signature to allow you to take the test. I'll talk to the school tomorrow morning when I call to tell them you'll be absent."

"I hate her," you groaned. "She's so mean. And, I know what you're gonna say. You have to deal with people you don't like. But, she lost one of my assignments and told me I didn't turn it in and couldn't re-do it!"

"Well did you?" Jay asked. "Turn it in, I mean."

"Jay!"

He put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I'm just saying, could be your fault."

"Yes, I turned in the stupid assignment. And, she paired me up with the stupidest kid in the class and told me to do well on this assignment because he needed a good grade to pass. It's not my fault he's failing! Don't put his grade on me, lady!"

"And she wouldn't let you re-do it?"

"Nope. But it's fine. I'm still getting an A. That might change if she doesn't let me take this test, though."

"It's like deja-vu from my freshman year all over again. Why doesn't she retire already? She's like 100."

"Or they could fire her," you quipped. "Or I could switch classes."

"I'll see what I can do. Who's the other history teacher?"

"Um, Miss Hedge."

"Hedge? As in Jayne Hedge?"

"Yeah, it's actually her. Why? Do you know her?"

"Yes he does," Will said as he entered Jay's apartment. "In fact, they went to freshman snowcoming together."

"How did you even get in here?" Jay asked, turning around to look at his older brother.

"For a cop, you're not that smart. You didn't lock the door behind you."

"I don't lock my door when I'm still awake. And, seriously? You just had to tell Y/N that, didn't you?"

"You guys can't just leave me hanging now. Tell me the story!"

"Fine," Jay grumbled and Will just laughed and sat down at the table, too. "I met her at school, obviously. She was on the freshman basketball team and I had winter weight training for the soccer team. I thought she was pretty and she was really smart, too. And, I knew that a bunch of the girls went to get Taco Bell after practice, so me and some of my friends decided to go, too."

"There used to be a Taco Bell close to school?" you asked. If there was, you'd never seen it before.

"It got torn down just after I graduated," Jay answered. "Anyway, we went to Taco Bell and I started talking to her and we talked a lot after practice. I'd walk her home sometimes. Then, I asked her to snowcoming and she said yes."

"So, why'd you guys break up? I know you dated Allie in high school."

"We realized we were better off as friends." Jay shrugged.

"And he realized he liked Allie more," Will added.

"Yeah, that too."

Will set a big bag of takeout on the table.

"Seriously?" Jay asked. "I thought we weren't going to do this that much anymore so we can get Y/N's vitamin and mineral levels stabilized."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate the break from your mundane meals," Will said. "And, I got us all side salads to go with the burgers instead of fries, so calm down." Jay gave him a look. "Fine, I got the side salads along with the fries. But, they're made out of potatoes, so they're technically a vegetable."

"For a doctor, you don't know much about nutrition, do you? And, my meals are not mundane."

"Dude, you'd have chicken, spaghetti, or grilled cheese every night."

"Not every night, just a lot of nights when I'd get home from the district late. I'll have you know me and Y/N have been making really good diners lately. Wanna tell Will what we made last night for dinner, Short Stack?"

"We made this really good pasta. We used Orzo, which looks like rice, but it's pasta. And we made a sauce out of tomatoes, onions, and orange juice. It was supposed to be lemon juice, but Jay didn't have any. We put chicken sausage in it for protein...and spices of course," you told Will.

"That actually sounds really good. Wow, Jay cooking every night, not something I expected."

"I like it," you said. "And, he lets me play whatever music I want when we cook."

Will rolled his eyes. You had Jay so wrapped around your finger that he'd do almost anything for you. Will didn't think he himself was that bad, but deep down, he knew he'd do anything for you, too...despite not being in Chicago as long as Jay had been.

***

"So I got a call from Stone this morning," Jay said around 11:30 that night when he and Will were sitting on the couch, each nursing a beer.

Will set his beer down on the coffee table in front of him. "And?"

"And, as of yesterday at midnight, I am officially divorced from Abby. Turns out, they served her the papers and, since she didn't sign them and it had been twenty days, it turned into an uncontested, no-fault divorce."

"Congrats, man. Might've been eight years too late, but you're a free man now."

"Amen to that. And it came at just the right time."

"Yeah," Will agreed. "You nervous for tomorrow?"

"Not really. More nervous for Y/N than anything. I've testified in criminal cases, so I kinda know how this goes, but she hasn't. And, before me and Dad go in to plead our cases, she has to talk to the judge all by herself. I just wish one of us could be in there with her."

Will nodded. "Know what they're going to ask you?"

"I know what Stone's going to ask me because we prepped, but I have no idea what Dad's lawyer is going to ask me. Pretty sure he's got just a public defender, though. Hopefully, that works in my favor."

"Not always, man," Will disagreed. "The public defenders who do these cases only do these cases. They've had a lot of practice."

"You really know how to make me feel better, thanks," Jay replied sarcastically.

"Rather have you hear it from me before the case than someone else after. Are you going to get cross-examined?"

"Probably. Don't know what they're going to ask me though because it's a cross. Stone set up some sample questions for me to answer with him to practice, but I'm going in blind. I'm used to it though because I've testified before. But, this feels like my biggest case."

"Because it probably is."

"Are you talking about tomorrow?" you asked as you quietly padded across the floor towards the living room.

"Y/N? What are you doing up? It's almost midnight," Jay pointed out.

"I- I know. But I couldn't sleep. I'm scared. What if I have to go back to Dad's? What if they find neither of you fit and I have to go into foster care?"

Jay patted the empty spot on the couch next to him and you sat down. "We just have to trust the system. That's all we can do."

"I know, but I can't sleep. And I'm so tired."

"I have an idea," Jay started and stood up, "stay here."

"I'm gonna go look for some melatonin," Will said after a few minutes of you two just sitting in silence. "I think Jay still has some for nights that he can't sleep."

Will was still rummaging around Jay's cabinets when Jay came back with a big black box with some cords and a cardboard box balanced against his hip.

"The hell is that?" You quickly covered your mouth when you realized you had sworn. "Sorry."

"It's okay. And, to answer your question, this is VCR. And, I have a bunch of videotapes in this box." He turned from you to face the kitchen, where Will was still opening and closing cabinets. "Will? What are you doing?"

"Looking for melatonin for Y/N. You got any?"

"First of all, it's so late that if you give it to her now, she'll sleep through her alarm and we can't be late for court tomorrow. And, second of all, I keep it in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom."

Will closed the cabinet and made his way back to the couch to sit next to you as Jay started to hook up the VCR to the tv. "Uh, Jay," Will began, "you know it's a little late for a movie right? And, I should get going in like half an hour?"

"We're not watching a movie. I recorded a bunch of the Blackhawks playoff games on one of these and I thought Y/N'd like to watch the 2010 Stanely Cup final series against the Flyers. Or, we could watch the final series against the Bruins when they won the cup last year."

"Let's watch the 2010 one," you said. "I don't think I watched it because I wasn't into watching hockey as much as I am now."

"And you have Jay to thank for that," Will pointed out.

"You can record things on there? Like an old-school DVR?" you asked.

"God, now I feel old," Will groaned. "Wait until she learns about floppy disks."

"Floppy what now?"

"Nevermind. Only 80s-90s kids would get it."

"We get it. You guys are millennials."

"Got it!" Jay exclaimed as he popped the videotape into the VCR and it started playing. "Now, shut up so we can relive this, Will."

You fell asleep before you even reached the end of the first period.

***

You rubbed your eyes and then looked around you to notice that you were still on the couch. You craned your neck to see the time on the oven on the other side of the open concept kitchen and living room and saw that it was 5:45 am. Jay was at the gym now. And, you knew you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep because you were already starting to worry about the rest of the day. You had to be in court at 8:30 and had to be talking to a judge at 9:00, the judge that would determine who you would be living with, which would inevitably determine your future.

God, you were thinking just like the teachers talked about the SATs, how if you didn't get a good grade on that standardized test that your future would be ruined.

You stood up and stretched and then went back to your room to grab the book you were currently reading. Then, you turned on a few lamps and grabbed a yogurt and fruit from the fridge, along with a glass of orange juice. After wrapping yourself in a blanket, you started to eat and read, hoping that that would keep your mind from wandering and worrying at least until Jay got back from the gym.

Half an hour later, Jay unlocked the apartment door and walked inside, confused as to why you were awake. It was only 6:15 and he had told you just to be up by 6:45.

"What are you doing awake, Short Stack?" he asked as he grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter.

"I woke up at about 5:45 and I couldn't fall asleep. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to worry about. I just want you as well-rested for today as possible. You have your dress all ready? Know what shoes you're going to wear?"

"Jay," you whined. "I picked all of that out last night because you told me to."

"Just didn't want you to have to rush. I can turn the game back on for you so you can watch it until you have to start getting ready?"

You nodded and Jay came over and fiddled with the tv and the remote, going back to the middle of the first period where he thought you had fallen asleep.

"Okay, I'm gonna take a shower. Will said he'll be here around 7:45. Oh, and you can take that history test when you get back on Monday, in Miss Hedge's class."

You smiled. "Okay." Then, you turned your attention back to the hockey game.

***

You widened your eyes as you stood in the second bathroom getting ready. You had gotten dressed (into a navy blue, lacey dress that ended just above the knee that you had bought with Gabby a few days ago), washed your face, brushed your teeth, did your makeup, but now you were cursing yourself for being so stupid. You had no way of doing your hair. You didn't have a straightener here. And, your typical ponytail or bun wasn't going to cut it for court.

"Jay!" you yelled as you exited the bathroom and knocked on his bedroom door.

He opened it as he was tying his tie. "Yeah? Everything okay?"

"I don't have a straightener! I can't do my hair and if I wear my hair like I usually do then it will look bad on you and--"

"Hey, hey, calm down. We've still got over 45 minutes before we have to leave. I'll give Gabby a call and see if she's not on shift and can let you borrow hers."

You sighed the biggest sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Five minutes later, Jay knocked on the bathroom door as you were brushing your hair. "Gabby will be here in ten."

"Oh thank God."

***

"Thank you!" you exclaimed ten minutes later as you opened the door, revealing Gabby with her hair straightener. And, behind her, was Casey.

"No problem. Just tell me if you're not used to it and need help."

You took it from her. "No, I should be good. Thanks, though. C'mon in. I'm pretty sure Jay's around here somewhere."

They came into the apartment while you ran off to find Jay.

You knocked on his bedroom once more and he opened it, this time completely ready for the day. "Gabby and Casey are here," you told him.

"Casey's here?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I think he just came with Gabby."

"Okay. Go fix your hair. I'll go talk to them."

Twenty minutes later, you were finished and slipping your shoes on when you heard a knock on the apartment door. "I got it, Y/N!" Jay yelled.

Well, I hoped you would because you're closer to the door than me, you thought to yourself.

Jay opened the door, and since it was exactly 7:45, he was expecting to just see Will. But, what he saw both shocked him and made him want to cry from appreciation at the same time.

Standing next to Will was Natalie and behind them was all of Intelligence and Trudy Platt and Mouch, all of Squad 3 and Truck 81 (minus Casey because he was inside), Sylvie Brett, Chief Boden, April, Maggie, Dr. Rhodes, Dr. Charles, Reese, and Noah.

"You're all here for the court case?" Jay asked, stunned.

"Well, Natalie has to testify about Y/N's deficiencies and weight loss, but yeah. It's better if the court sees that the person trying to get guardianship has a ton of support. So, I figured I'd call in reinforcements...even though I'm pretty sure my big personality is enough."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Your big ego maybe." He paused, not knowing how he was going to fit everyone in his apartment even if it was bigger than his last one. "However many of you guys can fit inside, can come in. Um, some of you might just need to meet us at the courthouse--"

"Jay, they just came now so you could see how many people were behind you. They're just gonna meet you there. Except for me. I'm driving you two." Jay furrowed his eyebrows. They didn't talk about this. "I'll explain later."

"Gabby," you said as you walked out of the bathroom. "Can you--" you stopped as you saw everyone outside Jay's apartment.

"They're all here for you and Jay," Gabby explained as she stood up. "And, you can't cry because it'll smear your makeup, so hold back the tears."

You nodded as you held them back. "Can you, uh, check the back of my hair to make sure I got it all straight?" you asked.

"Two spots are still a bit wavy. Let's go fix it so you can get going."

A few minutes later, Gabby had fixed your hair and everyone besides Will and Jay had left and were on their way to the courthouse. You slipped on a pair of black ballet flats and your coat.

Will had explained that the reason he was driving was that if Jay didn't get guardianship, he didn't want him driving in such a distressed state. Will had worked on so many patients who were in car accidents due to their emotional state and he didn't want Jay to be one of them.

"Ready?" Jay asked you.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you said as you wiped your sweaty palms on your dress.

"All you have to do is tell the truth."

***

You thought you'd be comfortable inside a courtroom because of the crime dramas you'd seen. But, standing inside one was very different from watching a fictional tv show.

No one but you, the judge, the court reporter, Peter Stone, and your dad's lawyer could be in the room for this next part, so everyone was either in a witness room or waiting outside in the hallway for the go-ahead to be let in. You would be allowed to be in the courtroom while they were talking to Jay and your dad, but they wouldn't be able to be in the room when you talked to the judge...for obvious reasons, such as influencing what you would say.

"All rise."

You stood up next to Stone as the judge, who you now knew as Judge Callahan, entered the room.

Once you sat down, you were called to the stand. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?" you were asked as you placed your hand on the Bible.

"I do," you answered.

"Alright, please allow Miss Halstead on the witness stand," Judge Callahan said. "Now, I'm just going to ask you a few questions. All you have to do is answer them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Okay, first question: Has your father, Pat Halstead, ever hit you or physically abused you in any way?"

"No," you answered.

"Has he ever neglected to give you necessities, such as food, water, clothing, or shelter?"

"Yes."

"Can you please elaborate?"

You did. You explained how your dad never had food in the house and would yell at you and call you a burden if you tried to eat his leftovers.

"Is it true that your father tried to break into your brother's house to get you?" Judge Callahan asked.

"Yes."

"Who do you feel safest with?"

"My brother, Jay Halstead."

"Who would you prefer to live with?"

"Jay Halstead."

***

Jay sat on the witness stand. He had answered all of Stone's questions, including all of the questions about him finding you stealing, what you had been using for pads, and what he had been told that you had been eating at your dad's house. Natalie had testified about your physical well-being, weight loss, and iron and riboflavin deficiencies. But now, it was time for Jay's cross-examination. And, he sure as hell didn't expect this next question to be asked.

"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer began, "you previously said, and I quote, that your dad clocked out on parenting you and your older brother, Will, when you were in your teens, around when you started high school. Can you elaborate on that?"

"Objection!" Stone yelled. "Relevance?"

"Speaks to a pattern."

"I'll allow it," Judge Callahan said. "Please answer the question, Mr. Halstead."

Jay nodded. "He clocked out on parenting me and Will because he said that were essentially grown men at this point in our lives, we didn't need him cheering us on or him helping us. He didn't come to a single one of my soccer games in high school. And, if by some miracle we went out for ice cream or something just me, my brother, and my dad, he wouldn't pay for ours. Said we were old enough to pay for ourselves.

"But, we had our mom. She came to all our games and school events. She made us breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If she wasn't there, I don't know what would've happened to me and Will. My dad didn't even want me to go into the military and didn't want Will to go to medical school. He said a real man went right to work. The only time I felt loved by him in all my teenage years was when I left for the military. It was like because he knew I might die over there that he figured he'd say he loved me one last time."

"Redirect, your honor," Stone said. Judge Callahan nodded at Stone. "You said that your mom made you and your brother lunch. Are you doing that for Y/N?"

"Objection! Relevance?"

"Speaks to Mr. Halstead's abilities as a parent."

"I'll allow it. Please answer the question."

"I actually do," Jay answered. "I make her a packed lunch to bring to school every day and I'm sure to add foods high in iron and riboflavin to help those levels stabilize quicker. The first time I packed her a lunch, she actually cried because she hadn't gotten a lunch from home in so long."

"Thank you."

"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer started, "you were previously deployed overseas in Afghanistan for two tours of duty. While I thank you for your service, is it possible that you could have PTSD and hurt Y/N in the middle of the night?"

"I would never hurt her!"

"While you are fully conscious, maybe. But, while you are in a sleep-addled state, isn't it possible that you might think that the person waking you up is an enemy soldier and not your little sister?"

Jay sighed. No one knew this about him, not you, not Will, not his dad. No one. And now all of his family and closest friends were going to know since they were in the courtroom watching this entire thing unfold.

"I am on Prazosin for nightmares caused by my PTSD," Jay answered.

"And how long have you been on this medication?"

"For about two years."

"And this has helped you manage your nightmares?"

"Yes, very much so."

"No further questions."

***

"Jesus, Jay," Will said after you had watched your dad's testimony on why he should get to keep you. It was the usual: how he was your father, so, therefore, he deserved to keep taking care of you and it's what your mother would've wanted...despite her telling Jay to keep you safe before she died. They already had the responding officers testify about the break-in, so he couldn't deny that and he was under oath, so if anyone found out he lied, then your dad would be held in contempt.

"I'm sorry I never told you, man," Jay said. "I just, I thought of it as weak that I couldn't deal with my own shit." He grimaced when he realized he had sworn around you. "Sorry, Y/N."

"It's okay. I hear that stuff at school."

"I'm just upset you didn't tell me they were getting that bad, Jay," Will lamented. "I know I wasn't there for you a lot after Mom died, but I'm here now."

Jay nodded, and Will knew he didn't want to talk about the topic anymore. You looked through the little window into the courtroom and saw that the judge was coming back from her chambers.

"Guys, I think she's made a decision," you said nervously.

"Whatever happens, me and Jay will be there for you," Will promised.

All you could do at this point was nod, as a lump was forming in your throat from all your nerves.

Jay led you back into the courtroom and you sat at the front, between Jay and Will. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress and Jay gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Judge Callahan stood up.

"By using the child's best interest standard of who can provide food, clothing, housing, education, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N Halstead, I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead."

You could've sworn that you stopped breathing the second she said Jay's first name. You were so overwhelmed that you just turned to him and started crying as he wrapped an arm around you while he listened to the judge state your dad's visitation rights.

But, you didn't hear any of that. The only phrase that kept repeating in your head was I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead over and over again.

Now, you knew that you'd always have the necessities when you lived with Jay. You wouldn't have to worry about where your next meal was going to come from or if your dad would be out until 3 am drinking. You wouldn't have to worry about having access to tampons or pads and not be embarrassed anymore to ask for some from school if you forgot to put any in your backpack that day. But most of all, you knew that you would be loved and cared for.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Did I make anyone cry with this one??? The blood draw scenario was actually based on when I had to go and get my blood drawn the other day and thought I was going to pass out, which is why that scene was so long. Anyway, thank you again for reading, and please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e

[fanfic-me-up]

Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more? 

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi​ and @im-here-for-the-heroes​ for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk​ this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?” 

Denki swallows. 

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you. 

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock. 

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm. 

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor. 

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor. 

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position. 

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!” 

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.” 

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?” 

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead. 

“Ho-hold on, let me just…” 

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer. 

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business. 

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!” 

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.” 

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.” 

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years? 

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time? 

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane. 

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight. 

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.” 

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.” 

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A. 

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone. 

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.” 

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth. 

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular? 

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid. 

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras? 

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…” 

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.” 

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.” 

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” 

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.” 

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. 

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army? 

“What the fuck, Denki?” 

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?” 

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?” 

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.  

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you. 

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?” 

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own. 

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.” 

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared. 

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be. 

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in. 

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again. 

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?” 

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.” 

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-” 

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line. 

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish. 

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second. 

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!” 

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.” 

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?” 

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.” 

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes. 

You both stare straight ahead at nothing. 

“Did you mean it?” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?” 

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him? 

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did. 

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes. 

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever. 

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!” 

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?” 

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 67: Soulmate (Take 1)

Harry had really great plans for the day that Ginny Weasley turned 18.

He was in the kitchen at Grimmauld making breakfast when she came bounding in through the front door and down into the kitchen.

"Hap-" he started before she had jumped into his arms and kissed him.

With a happy sigh he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other through her long hair and kissed her back.

"Happy Birthday," he finished but she wasn't paying any attention. She had pulled back and was looking at her arms and hands.

"Where is it?" she muttered.

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

She tugged her shirt off over her head to look at her torso.

"Gin, maybe not in the kitchen," Harry started to say, "Ron and Hermione will be down for breakfast any-"

"Do you see it?" she asked quizzically, turning to show Harry her back.

"See what?" he asked.

She shook her head, "My soulmark."

"What?" Harry said, even as Hermione came into the kitchen.

"Hermione," Ginny called, "do you see my soulmark?"

Hermione came over and looked at her back and hummed, "No, sweetie."

"Are you sure?" Ginny whispered, still scouring her front. Ginny looked over at Harry, her eyes desperate, "Did one show up for you?"

(Read more below the cut)

"One what?" Harry asked. "Can someone tell me what is going on?"

"I was so sure," she whispered before she burst into tears.

"Ginny!" Harry said, feeling alarmed and completely lost, he pulled her into his arms and held her close, "Tell me what's wrong," he begged but Ginny didn't say anything at all.

He looked over her head at Hermione, silently entreating her to help him, but she just shook her head.

Finally Ginny seemed to compose herself. She took a few deep breaths and pulled back. "Right," she said, wiping her tears. "I'm going to go. It's probably best if we don't see each other for a while."

"What?" Harry asked, his head spinning, he was dreaming. He had to be.

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I'll always love you, Harry," she whispered before turning and fleeing from the room.

Harry stood there, completely dumbfounded until the smoke alarm started going off and he looked over to see that the bacon he'd been working on before Ginny arrived was nothing but charred stubs.

He vanished the bacon and set the pan off of the burner before turning to look at Hermione who was watching him with pity in her eyes. "What the hell just happened?" he asked.

-------

So, soulmates were a thing. Apparently.

And Harry couldn't help but wonder why no one had ever told him that once you and your soul mate were both 18 a soul mark would appear on your skin after you kissed, signalling that you'd found the person you were supposed to spend forever with. What was even the point of Hogwarts if they didn't teach you about basic things like soulmates? And honestly, why hadn't Ron and Hermione said anything at the very least?

It took Ginny less than three months to figure out that Blaise Zabini was her soulmate. He tried not to resent her for it, he wanted her to be happy, of course he did, but Harry was still painfully single and had no real interest in trying to date. People never saw him as just Harry, dating would be a complete nightmare.

She'd asked him to be one of her groomsmen for her wedding about six months after they'd broken up and he'd said yes, what choice did he have?

It was a terrible decision, really, even if you were only considering the fact that they'd been dating mere months ago but there was also the unfortunate fact that Draco Malfoy was one of Blaise's groomsmen so he had to see him all of the time.

They didn't fight constantly, like Harry had suspected they might when he'd heard that Malfoy was going to be part of Blaise's party but there was always this weird sort of tension between them.

He couldn't seem to stop watching him, or thinking about him, and so he did the only thing that made sense to him. He decided to become his friend.

"Hey," he said, plopping down next to Malfoy at a planning brunch when the wedding was about six weeks out.

Malfoy looked around before looking back at Harry, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah," Harry said, popping a grape into his mouth.

His cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink before he said, "Ahm, hello, then."

"How are you?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked at him, "I'm fine. Are you concussed?"

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it, "No."

"Under a spell of some sort? Potion, perhaps?"

"No," he said, "Don't be ridiculous."

"Of the two of us, I am not the one behaving abnormally."

He sighed, "Look, I just," he trailed off not sure where that sentence was going, "I want to get to know you. It's weird and whatever but I'm just really curious about you, all the time."

"Ah, sixth year all over again," Malfoy said, taking a drink of his mimosa.

"No, nothing like that. I don't think you're up to anything sinister," Harry defended. "I'm just curious." Then he raised an eyebrow, "Admit it, you're curious about me, too."

"I'm no such thing."

"Come on," he said, nudging the other man with his elbow. "I've caught you looking at me almost as many times as you've caught me looking at you."

Malfoy huffed but the corner of his mouth tipped up, "Alright, fine. I'm a little curious. But don't let it go to your head."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

---------

After two weeks of being friends with Draco Malfoy, Harry basically wanted to spend every waking moment with him. Draco was dramatic and snarky, he had sharp sense of humor that often left Harry in stitches.

"So I told him," Draco said, recounting a tale from going shopping for dress robes for the wedding, "that white was for the bride."

Harry giggled, sipping his pint, "And?"

"He told me that Ginerva informed him that she'd be wearing a green dress."

He nodded, "We picked it the other day."

"And when I asked him why, he said it was because she wasn't a virgin but he is."

"Wait, really?" Harry asked, brow furrowing.

"You didn't know that Ginerva wasn't a virgin?"

His skin heated, "Err," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "not that. I knew that because that was..." he trailed off, clearing his throat, "My fault, actually."

Draco looked scandalized.

"Oh, don't give me that!" he said, shoving the other man's shoulder. "Everyone was a mess after the war. I was just surprised that Blaise isn't."

Draco flushed, "It's actually fairly common among pureblood circles to wait for marriage."

"Wait," Harry said, "Are you-" he started, then stopped himself, "Sorry, you don't have to answer that."

Draco straightened his shoulders, "So what if I am?" he asked defensively. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"No," Harry agreed hastily, "Nothing at all. Sorry. Just that infernal curiosity."

"Maybe it would have been different," Draco said softly, like a confession, "After the war. If there was someone that I'd been in love with, like you and Ginerva were."

He took another sip of his drink before replying, "Well, like I was, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head, "Nothing, I'm happy for her. Just," he trailed off, "It's going to sound awful."

"It's just me," Draco said softly.

Harry gave him a little smile, "There's no 'just you' about you."

He huffed, clearly not taking it the way Harry had meant it.

"She just moved on really fast, you know?" He shook his head, "One minute I think we're happy and in love, the next she's telling me that I'm not her soulmate and breaking it off without even a conversation."

"What kind of conversation were you hoping to have?" Draco asked curiously.

"Like if this soulmate lark was really that big of a deal. I mean isn't it possible that I could have made her just as happy?" he asked.

"It's not just about being happy," he said.

He sighed, "Fine, but couldn't I have loved her just as well?"

"Maybe," Draco said, "but soulmates are more than that. They're the one perfect compliment for your soul. Soulmates match in every conceivable way; it's not that they'll never fight or that everything is perfect, it's like," he trailed off, like he was trying to put something difficult into words. "When you can see the water and the sky meeting, like when they blend together so that you can't quite tell which is which and that's okay because they're made of the same thing."

"Do you know who your soulmate is?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head and took a sip of his drink, "I'm not sure people like me get to have one."

"People like you?" Harry asked.

He raised his left arm, "I already have a mark, maybe one is all I get."

"In that case," Harry said, tapping his scar, "Maybe one is all I get, too."

"It's not the same."

He shrugged a shoulder, "you didn't want yours anymore than I wanted mine." Draco was quiet for a minute so Harry bumped him with his shoulder, "If it does turn out to be the case, I'll grow old with you if you'll have me."

----------

In the last month leading up to the wedding, Harry and Draco were pretty much inseparable to the point where people started to ask if they were dating.

They weren't, of course, but it put the thought in Harry's head and he found that he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He watched Draco throughout the wedding, the way his eyes misted over as they were saying their vows, his huge genuine smile when they were officially wed, the wistfulness on his face when toasts were being made. Harry's heart felt like it was somersaulting in his chest.

After Blaise and Ginny had their first dance, people were invited to join them on the dance floor and Harry couldn't take his eyes off of the other man. "Draco?" he said and he genuinely couldn't remember ever being this nervous.

"Hmm?" the other man replied, watching with a little smile as Blaise spun Ginny.

"Will you dance with me?"

Draco's head whipped around to look at him so fast that Harry was worried about his neck. "What?"

He swallowed, "Would you dance with me?"

"Why would you ask me that?" Draco asked. "Are you making fun of me?"

"What? No!"

"Oh, look at pathetic Draco Malfoy, everyone!" he hissed. "No one will ever love him, but I'm Harry Potter and I take pity on all sorts of sad, pathetic creatures." Draco stood up and glared at Harry, "No, thanks. I'm not in need of rescuing today."

He stormed out and after a pause where Harry tried to figure out what had just happened, Harry chased after him.

Draco was making his way down the walkway, "Bloody stupid Manors with stupid anti-apparation wards."

"Draco!" Harry shouted.

"Stop!" Draco begged, turning to look at him. "Please. I know you're trying to be kind but it's tearing me to pieces."

Harry froze in place and held out his hands like he was trying to sooth a startled creature, "Listen to me. Please," he added. Draco didn't reply but he didn't move away either. "I'm not trying to be kind or take pity on you, or whatever," he said. "I genuinely wanted to dance with you."

"Pfft," Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why?"

"Because I like you," Harry confessed. "I thought that would have been obvious by now."

"You like me," Draco repeated incredulously like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"Why do you find that so hard to believe?"

There was a pause as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts before he exploded, "Because you are Harry Potter!"

"And?" Harry asked, then he took another step toward him, "Draco, it's just me," he whispered, echoing the sentiment that Draco had said the last time they had an emotional conversation.

"There's no 'just you' about you," he murmured, shaking his head as a tear slipped down his cheek.

Harry reached out and brushed the tear away, "I really like you," he whispered.

"What if you're not my soulmate?" Draco breathed. "What if I let you dance with me, I let you kiss me but you're not the one for me? How can I-"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said fiercely. "We can just be together. Surely everyone doesn't find their soulmate."

"But won't you always wonder?"

"Won't you always wonder about us if we don't at least try?" Harry returned.

Draco bit his lip but then nodded. "Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me," he repeated. "I need to know. I can't possibly let myself get any more attached to you if I can't keep you."

Harry cupped his face with both hands and kissed him softly and the moment their lips touched, it felt like something was igniting deep in his soul, his body coming alive and humming at the touch.

Draco must have felt it too as his body surged against Harry's, his hands grasping Harry's waist and pulling him in tighter against his body.

When they broke off panting, Draco rested his forehead against Harry's, "Does kissing always feel like that?"

"No," Harry whispered, brushing his nose over Draco's.

Draco's thumb rubbed over Harry's hip, "I'm afraid to open my eyes," he confessed.

"It doesn't have to matter," Harry said.

"But it matters and we both know it."

Harry groaned and pulled back, "Okay. Where would it be?"

"Could be anywhere," Draco replied, looking at his hands and arms, "But it's most commonly on your hands or..." he trailed off as he pulled up his left sleeve, "arm," he whispered. "Harry."

Harry looked over at him and saw that flowers had bloomed across his forearm where his dark mark had been.

"Your scar," Draco gasped, trailing his fingers over Harry's forehead.

"What?" Harry asked.

A tear slid down Draco's cheek, "It's my constellation," he whispered.

Harry tugged him in close and pressed a kiss to his chin. "I guess you were right," he said.

"About what?"

"I guess we do only get one."

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

Day 66: Bond | Day 68: Rain

Okay, so I genuinely love the soulmates trope and it was super hard to write this as a ficlet! I needed more words! Anyway, this one might get fleshed out in the future (and I have a Soulmates chapter fic that's already halfway done). I don't feel like this is my best work but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway! xo

Related note: I wrote a second ficlet for this prompt. I imagine that the people who sent me the prompt were hoping for something along these lines, but here's what I might have written if this was a generated prompt. Day 67: Soulmate (Take 2)

[jjksblackgf]

weak in the knees

pairing — namjoon x black female reader genre — smut word count — 1.7k summary — “He just loved the sight of your oiled body in his bed, as the light of the candles glistened gold in your chocolate skin” warning  — nipple play, mutual masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus 

a/n  — I think this is my best piece of writing so far, i’m proud of myself. Btw, happy halloween, my lovelies. this isn’t spooky but accept this as a treat. enjoy <3

Namjoon hated being apart from you, the days where you couldn’t find time to talk to each other were the hardest. From the outside, he would pull it off, being calm and collected for most of the day as he goes around with his duties as BTS’ leader. But on the inside, he would nurture a flame, not only from love but from desire too.

Because, truly, he was a simple man. Every fantasy that you had, he would be willing to fulfill. And he knew the experience would be reciprocated. What he loved the most about sex with you was the freedom to be himself, the freedom to express who he wanted to be without being judged.  

One of his favorite things to do with you was to just try new positions under a variety of moods. He absolutely has a Pinterest board with a whole lot of ideas on how to create romantics and/or erotic setting, that included lots of candles, comfortable seating places where you could lay down later, sometimes oil, sometimes lube, sometimes both, with or without toys… he just loves the variety.

There was one day where he set up a romantic corner in your backyard. Only things he could do himself with confidence. An inflatable mattress with lots of pillows, a nice blanket, a few electric candles, champagne, and a basket of your favorite snacks. His first plan was to just do a stargazing date, but you ended up having magical and passionate sex under the stars.

On one other occasion, he tried to replicate that moment in his tub. This time with a few scented candles, a nice bath bomb, rose petals, and your favorite chocolate. All of this complemented by a new set of lube and a waterproof vibrator he’d just bought you. He never felt more at home than with you, smiling with his little surprises.

But now he thinks he outdid himself. He was very focused on writing new songs and had neglected you for a few days, but he wanted to redeem himself. So not only he went with the usual stuff, but he also bought you dinner and nice wine, then you both headed to his bedroom, where he put his favorite songs to play, the lights were dim and he bought a new edible lube he thought you both could try out.

So you decided to start, massaging him with your regular oil, taking your time on his feet, going up on his thighs - that you love, massaging his arms and his neck, before going to masturbate him with a grape-flavored lube. Not long before your lips were wrapped around him.

But Namjoon didn’t want the night to go there yet, so he was quick to put you on his bed, starting on your shoulders and neck, taking his sweet time so you could be totally relaxed under his hands, ready to commit to this night.

Your verbal praises were driving him crazy. He couldn’t wait to hear you moan his name, curl your toes, and tug the sheets until your fingertips were white. But he is a patient man, and for now, he decided to just enjoy his view. 

It happens every time you’re under indirect lights, he first noticed when you were stargazing and the moonlight painted your skin with a magical glow. But now it was different and he just loved the sight of your oiled body in his bed, as the light of the candles glistened gold in your chocolate skin.

“Hmm, baby, this feels so nice” you said as he started to massage the back of your thighs.

“I’m glad that I’m doing a good job” you could hear the smile in his voice. His hands were really now close to your core, his hands with just enough oil that his firm circling motions in your inner thighs felt really relaxing.

You were back to half moaning, half deep breaths, and he decided to go for your ass, using more oil on your cheeks and returning to the circling motions he was doing before. He then started to grab your ass, each time increasing the pressure, searching for a green light to take this massage to the next level. 

“Hmmm, yes, baby” You moaned, and he continued a little bit more before he asked you to lay on your back. You did as he asked and before he went back to work, he just looked into your eyes for a moment longer and pecked your lips. “I love you” he whispered in a low voice, causing shivers down your spine. Before you could say it back, he asked you to close your eyes and relax. 

He wasted no more time and oiled your breasts, first massaging them both with his firm hands. You bit your lips trying to maintain composure, but his hands were your kryptonite, and the more he massaged them, the more you could feel the pool forming between your legs.

You gasped when he placed his mouth on your nipple, his relaxed tongue moving from side to side as he hand got firmer on your breasts. You placed one hand in his arm, moaning without holding back this time, to let him know how good you were feeling.

“Yes!” You almost screamed. He sucked on your nipple and relaxed his hands at the same time, the suction sending your core more signals to get ready for what was to come. Your other hand was about to travel to your pussy, to get the friction it needed, but Namjoon stopped your attempts.

“We’ll get there in a second, you don’t need to worry” He placed his lips on yours one more time before his mouth moved to your other breast. You then placed one hand on his hair, tugging it lightly and the other went to his back, to scratch it lightly.

Namjoon was using his tongue again, but he brushed his teeth on your nipple before you could get used to it. But now his ear was close to your mouth, and your sweet and rich moan went directly to his ear, causing him to moan. You shut your thighs close looking for some sort of friction, but Namjoon was out of your nipples once more.

“Trying to enjoy yourself, huh?” He had a cocky tone to his voice as he saw your attempt, which made you blush and cover your face. “No covering your pretty face, I want to see every expression” He laughed and you took your hands out of your face.

Your hand went back to his body, now settling in his hip as he massaged your tighs again. Your nails scratched him a bit when his hands went through your vulva, but they didn’t stop there. He just traveled to your other thigh, leaning over your body. You took advantage of the opportunity and used your hand to masturbate him again.

After that, Namjoon decided that he would retribute the pleasure. He opened your legs and used the remaining of the oil to move his palm through your folds a few times before settling on your clit, just to tap it with the tip of his finger. You were taken by the pleasure, using a little more pressure on his dick, causing him to hiss with the sudden sensation.

You both moaned in unison as you changed your masturbation techniques. You decided to focus on circling the tip of your thumb at the tip of his dick, at the same time that he used two fingers to massage the sides of clit. 

“I want your lips on me” you stated looking at his face, that was now sweaty and frowned eyebrows filled with concentration. He stopped everything as he looked at your face.

“It’s time for something new, then” He helped you get on your fours, at the top of his bed. And before he laid down, he grabbed the new lube you were trying tonight and squirted a little bit on his fingers.

He first massaged your clit a little more, but as your pussy was perfectly open in front of him, he saw that wasn’t necessary, your natural lubrication already taking the spotlight as it dripped down your folds. 

He then placed two fingers inside you, your walls clenching with the new sensation. His in and out movements were making you hiss, and your moans growing louder the faster he worked. Namjoon moved to curl his fingers to find your spot and placed his thumb back on your clit, moving his fingers in circular motions.

But now it was his time to taste the new edible lube, and after all, you asked for his lips on you. He wouldn’t deny that, already salivating to know what your wetness would taste like with a new product. So he slowly licked your folds, starting from your clit and ending on your entrance, sucking the excess.

He was pleased by the strawberry flavor he picked, and thought it was the perfect compliment to your own taste. His happy tongue was very soft now, going on irregular patterns and irregular pressures. It was just like a sloppy french kiss.

He anchored himself on the bed by his elbows and used his palms to spread your ass a little more, being able to french kiss your clit much deeper this time. Your clit was starting to twitch with the soft sensation of his lips and his nose was very close to your entrance, and as your arousal grew, it started to clench on nothing, making him moan.

The vibration of his moan sent a shiver down your spine, making you grasp on his bedsheets. At one point he circled your clit, making you gasp out loud. He was worried for a second, thinking he did something wrong, but you asked for more of the circling and that was, now, his priority.

He used your verbal clues and directions to find the perfect balance between a precise tongue that would still be soft. You felt your knot tightening in your belly and asked for Namjoon to apply more pressure and speed to his movements.

That’s exactly what he did, but that still wasn’t enough for you, moving your hips a little to ride his tongue, and a few moments later, you felt the pressure release and your core became hotter with your orgasm. Namjoon knew he made you weak in the knees by the way your legs trembled, even tho they were supported by the mattress. 

He had the biggest smile on his face when he got up and placed a playful smack in your ass.

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.12)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Smoking

1 1/2 months later

The music from Amiyah’s speaker played at a low level. She was currently in the process of setting up an organizer for her perfume collection. Going back in forth between the instructions on the manual and screwing in the tiny nails she was growing frustrated. It’s been almost and hour now and she was only able to put together two shelves. Throwing down the paper she stood up and slipped on her house shoes. Amiyah needed a break to keep herself from becoming irritated so she walked to the kitchen for a snack.

Keys unlocking the front door caught her attention. It was Durk walking in with another Louis Vuitton bag for the fourth time this week. Amiyah knitted her eyebrows together wondering what was up with all of the shopping he’s been doing. She watched him walk to his to put away his items before he walked back into the livingroom.

“What’s up sis? You didn’t have to work today?” Durk asked pulling out his weed tray and breaking down the bud.

Amiyah walked over to him and sat down. “Nope I was just getting ready to make me some food but I’m too tired to cook.” Taking a pillow she cradled it in her lap.

He snickered rolling up his blunt. “I’ll order something for you if you want?”

Nodding her head Amiyah grabbed the remote to the tv and turned it on. She flipped through the channels hoping to find something to ease her mind for the moment. Durk leaned back next to her sparking up the blunt. Amiyah watched him inhale and exhale the smoke through his nose. Reaching her hand out she made a gesture asking for a hit.

“You know damn well you don’t smoke.” He removed the blunt from his mouth but handed it to her anyway. Durk figured it would be funny to see her try to get high for the first time.

Amiyah grabbed it using her nail tips she took a pull and inhaled the smoke smoothly and blew it out. She did it a few times and then she passed it back.

Durk furrowed his brows looking surprise before sending her a blank stare. “Miyah who the hell taught you how to do that?” He asked gently snatching the blunt away from her.

She laughed and was about to say his name before she caught herself. Shrugging her shoulders her eyes fell to the floor. The grip on her pillow tightened against her chest. Her memory went back to the night she watched how Erik did his technique in the car and she copied him. The thought of him made her sad all over again. Amiyah would always do good until she did something that reminded her of him then she would get a strong feeling of emotions that washed over her.

It’s been over a month since she last seen him. Since the night she ended it with him to be exact. After that it was like he never existed. No more phone calls or text messages. He hasn’t even been by the apartment since then either. Before, if she saw her brother coming in she knew that Erik would be right there behind him with his beautiful smirk on his face that displayed his dimples. But there’s been nothing and it made her miserable inside.

Amiyah didn’t want to be the reason for him to not come over anymore. She was used to seeing his face almost every other day and to see that it changed because of her made her upset with herself. Not only that, because of his absence, Amiyah didn’t know if Erik and her brother were still good friends. Durk had mentioned his in a conversation a week after their last exchange and that was the last time. Amiyah was worried about him. She wanted to know how he was doing but mostly she wanted to have a second chance with him.

“Yo what you got a taste for?” Durk snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Uh it doesn’t matter. Whatever you order.” She sighed sitting the pillow next to her.

He nodded his head as he finished his blunt putting it in his ashtray. A text notification came to his phone. Amiyah heard him curse before messaging whoever it was back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just going back and forth with this promoter about letting me throw a bash at the club for the night. You know with Valentines Day coming up on Saturday.” Durk answered staying on his phone.

Amiyah knitted her brows. “Why you tryna throw a bash? Why not just get VIP and call it a night?” She asked confused leaning her head on her hand.

Durk smacked his lips. “Because I’m doing this for the whole hood. Plus it’s a celebration for something else that I’m not telling yo nosy ass about. But I’m have my niggas to the right and nothing but bad bitches to the left. It’s bout to be a movie.” He playfully plucked her nose before getting up going into the kitchen.

Amiyah followed after she heard who he planned to have there. Erik popped into her head. She wanted to know if he was going to be one of the members in the group. She had to know so she figured she could ask for an invite.

“Well can I go?” She sat on the counter next to him.

Durk chuckled. “Since when you go to parties?”

“Since now. So can I come?” Folding her arms she pressed for the second time.

“No. Amiyah I’m not allowing you around these people. You know I don’t like you being around that type of shit anyway.” He stated while eating grapes from out of the package.

Amiyah scoffed. “ ‘Allow’? Durk I thought we just made up about this. You promised you would stop treating me like a baby and let me live and learn responsibility. That was what you told me, remember?”

After her and Erik’s first argument she had him take her home. Later that night Durk came back to find her there. He was happy that she decided to come back and they talked out their problems. Amiyah told him how she felt about him treating her like a child and how he had to stop. Durk was hesitant but agreed in letting her make her own choices from now on to help her become responsible.

Placing the bag of fruit on the table Durk eyed his sister folding his arms as well. He shook his head as he gave in.

“Damn alright you can go but yo ass is standing beside me the whole night. I’m not playing with you Amiyah.”

Interrupting him Amiyah hopped off the counter jumping up and down clapping her hands. She skipped up to him and wrapped her arms around his body giving him a bear hug.

“Thank you big brother!” She grabbed his face bringing it down to kiss his cheek.

“Miyah stop acting like I keep yo ass chained up in this house all day ‘fore I change my mind. Extra ass.” He pushed her away.

“Okay I have to get an outfit, my nails done. Can I bring Kelly? Who’s all going to be there?” She rushed him with questions.

“I guess you can bring the one and only lil friend you got.” He laughed.

Amiyah pushed his shoulder. “Okay but who’s gonna be there?” She asked hoping to get the answer she was anticipating for.

He shrugged. “I don’t know shit Moe, Erik, Cane, and a few other people I rock with.”

Her heart stopped when she heard Erik’s name. But when she heard Cane’s she felt her stomach flutter with nerves. How the hell did her brother know Cane? It was too much for her to catch up with the fact that two of the guys in his circle had her caught up. If they were both planning on being at the bash then Amiyah would try her best to avoid being around them at the same time.

“Cool!” She gave a half smile.

Durk snapped his fingers. “Oh I’ve been meaning to ask you. Your birthday coming up in a few weeks. Got any plans?”

“No not really. Why?” She stepped closer trying to figure out what he had planned.

“If you down I was thinking outta the country and a place that has dazzling white sand and water so clear that you can see your toes in it. What you think about that?” He asked speaking in a narrator tone.

Amiyah covered her mouth. “Please tell me you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about?”

Durk laughed at her reaction. “You tryna go to Turks and Caicos or what?”

Amiyah jumped on him as he caught her. Turks and Caicos was one of her top places she had on her traveling bucket list. She couldn’t believe that he was able to make this happen for her. She was truly greaful but curious.

“Wait I want to go but why you trying to bring me now? You coming up on here with shopping bags every other day and now you taking me on vacation. I mean I know you got money and everything but did you win the lottery or something?” She asked playfully unable to contain her smile.

He laughed. “You asking too many questions. Next week I’ll give you some money so you can start shopping for the trip. But right now I got to go check out the venue I’ll be back. Love you kid.” He tapped her head before leaving.

Amiyah smiled watching her brother disappear out the door.

__________________________________

“So you tryna tell me you never saw the movie Soul Food?” Harmony stopped in the middle of crocheting her blanket.

Erik chuckled shaking his head. “Nah I told you I wasn’t a big movie watcher growing up.”

“But Soul Food is a classic though. Like how you do as a black person go your whole life without watching it? Make it make sense Erik?” She giggled going back to her knitting.

“Damn you ain’t gotta come for my childhood like that though.” He sat up on her furniture.

“Oh that’s right I keep forgetting your younger than me so I understand.”

Erik rolled his eyes shaking his head. He was 25 and she was 26. Harmony only had him by one year and always had to bring it up almost every time they got together. But Erik knew it was nothing but jokes with her. They were at her duplex hanging out for the afternoon. Over the past couple of weeks Erik got acquainted with Harmony really well. Her and her brother took over the bar where she worked that her parents passed down to them. She lived right around the block from him. But also they had a lot in common. Both were private people, had similar taste in music, like the same foods, and the lastly great at being single.

Harmony surprised him the first time they had a real deep conversation. She let him know that she wasn’t too bothered with trying to get into a relationship. She said she always had problems in the past so she never did much to try to strive for a new one, but she did remain open minded in the same instance. To Erik she was cool about it and didn’t really bring it up unless he spoke on the subject. They were only friends but they did mess around two or three times, if you want to count a quickie in the bathroom of the bar that she worked at as once.

Their escapades started two weeks ago. Erik thought for sure that he was going to have to deal with her sudden clingy-ness but it didn’t turn out like that. He had to reach out to her afterwards and Harmony told him that she was okay with being friends and fucking at the same time. After that they became somewhat close friends.

Erik got a text from Durk asking to meet up with him about the Valentines Day bash he was throwing. Sending a text back that he was on the way he slipped his phone in his pocket and stood up from the couch.

“I would love to stay but I gotta meet up with someone.” He looked down at her.

Harmony stood up nodding her head. “I’ll walk you out.”

Walking to the door Erik turned around. “Listen my mans is throwing this party on Saturday. If you want to come you can if you free.” He sucked in his top lip.

Harmony smirked biting her bottom one. She stepped closer towards him with a hand on her hip. “You tryna introduce me to your boys already?”

He glanced back in her house before back at her. “I’m just inviting you out to have a good time but if you happened to meet them while doing so then shit yeah.”

Grabbing his shirt she pulled him down to her level and kissed him. Erik wrapped one of his free arms around her tiny waist and traveled down her back to her ass cheeks gripping her left one. He felt her moan into his mouth before she broke the kiss.

Wiping the gloss from his lips she pushed him away and smirked. “I’ll be there.” She stated eyeing him up and down and then closed her door on him.

It took Erik twenty minutes to make it to the auto garage. Getting out and locking his car he headed inside to see Durk, Moe, and Cane gathered around one of the vehicles parked inside. The moment Erik made eye contact with Cane he felt the anger within him ignite. Just being in his presence always made Erik put the blame on him for how things between him and Amiyah ended. When he found out that he took her on a date behind his back Erik was heated and wanted to fuck him up but had to hold off because he didn’t want Durk to know the reason behind it but when Amiyah told him that he kissed her Erik was livid. He couldn’t believe that the same kid who he thought he would like was the same one who turned out to be a snake.

Erik kept his distance from Cane since he put the two and two together and kept it that way. They never said a word to each other unless they had to work with Durk. Strictly for business and that’s all. But Erik was still on edge with Cane knowing about him and Amiyah even though they weren’t together anymore, he just didn’t like the fact that the little nigga had something on him.

Walking up to the trio Erik dapped Mor and Durk, purposefully leaving Cane out. Durk gave a look wondering what was the animosity that the two had against each other all of a sudden before shaking it off.

“What’s up E! Fuck you been at nigga?” Durk asked leaning on the hood of the truck.

“Chillin. So what’s going on with this party you throwing? What’s up with that?” Erik stood next to him between him and Moe.

Durk smirked and paused looking at them. “I just figured I could celebrate the fact that I’m fifteen million dollars richer than a bitch and now in business with Shawns old connect.”

“Damn nigga you finally made that shit happen. Now you could put me in charge of some of these corners, take some of the load of your hands.” Cane spoke with excitement as he dapped him up.

Durk laughed. “Nigga you gonna have to earn that shit. Ain’t nothing given over here.” He nudged him back.

Cane smacked his lips shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Aye congrats man.” Moe spoke up.

Durk saluted him before turning to Erik.

“Erik what you think about that? You know when we get our first few keys I’ma need some help. I want you to be my partner.”

“Nah. I’m not tryna get into this type of business man. I told you after this last job we just did three weeks ago was it for me. I’m done.” Erik spoke truthfully.

Durk shook his head. “Well you didn’t look done to me when we was getting that money.”

*Three Weeks Ago*

Moe sat behind the wheel of the all blacked out SUV. Erik rested in the passenger seat while Durk and Cane hid in the back. Parked at least 200 ft away from the small luxurious house with a fence surrounding the perimeter. Erik used his binoculars to find where his target and accomplice were. It was eight at night and Alexis sent Durk a text letting them know that the two of them would be leaving soon. She informed them about the weekend trip he was bringing her on and told them that it would be better for them to come and get the money after they were gone.

Erik heard an irritated sigh leave out of Canes mouth.

“When these muthafuckas gon leave? I’m tryna get these M’s and be out. We already looking suspicious being in this big ass car.” He sucked his teeth putting on his black gloves.

“Nigga would you shut the fuck up. Yo ass been talking for the past ten minutes.” Durk blew out smoke from his blunt.

“Look she said they was gonna be out any minute now so chill the fuck out!” Erik’s voice heightened without looking back.

Within the next fifteen minutes Alexis was walking out with Shawn. They put their luggage in the trunk before hopping inside the car. After a few minutes of observing them Erik watched as they pulled out the gated driveway and down the road. Durk waited until he got a text from Alexis letting him know that they were on the highway heading to the airport. Moe turned on the truck and pulled up right in front of the house to make it easier to getaway. Getting out Erik, Durk, and Cane put on their gloves and ski mask on their heads so that by the time they would walk inside the home they could pull them down to avoid any security cameras.

“Y’all niggas know the fucking drill. We get the money and we out this bitch. Cane grab the duffles.” Durk instructed as he put his glock on his waist.

Erik watched as Cane did was he was told. His expression was irritated by the fact that he had to take orders which Erik figured he wasn’t to doing. Cane had the attitude of trying to be a leader but he just didn’t know how to operate as one yet. Erik picked up his own duffle and walked to the driver side where Moe was seated.

“You remember the signal right? Hit the lock alarm on the truck in a pattern of three times if you feel like something’s wrong.”

“But Durk said not to interrupt unless I actually see someone coming.” Moe stated unsure.

Looking over towards Durk and Cane who were waiting Erik shook his head turning back to Moe. “Trust me man. If you feel like something is wrong give us a heads up. Better safe and out of jail than sorry. Got it?” Erik knitted his eyebrows letting him know that he was serious.

Moe nodded and rolled up his window. Erik then started to hike towards the gate. Entering the code that was given to him he put it in watching the wide gates open slowly. They headed towards the house. Checking around the perimeter of the area, they planned to avoid using the front door. So they asked Alexis to leave one of her side doors unlocked. Cane walked towards it first and wiggled the handle. When the door popped up with ease he looked back and smiled before sliding his mask over his face. Durk and Erik did the same following him inside.

The three pair of eyes wandered around in amaze as the toured throughout the luxurious mini mansion. Erik shook his head as he thought about how Alexis didn’t have a problem risking living like this just to satisfy her selfish needs. She had everything that she ever wanted. Money, cars, the latest fashion, and her hair and nails were always in tip top shape.

Not only that but this house that she could live in full time if she chose to. From the way she would tell them how Shawn was stuck on stupid over her let Erik know that the nigga loved her enough to put up with her and her how shit. There was no way that he was going around town not knowing what his own fiancée was doing. He had to know but just to stupid in love to do anything about it. Erik scoffed to himself never wanting to be that deep in love with someone.

“Aye y’all niggas come up here! I think I got something.” Cane shouted from the top of the banister on the second floor.

Jogging up the stairs, Erik behind Durk, went into the master bedroom. They looked around trying to see why he called them in there.

“Nigga what are we supposed to be looking at?” Durk asked through his mask.

“That’s what I thought when I came in here at first. Nothing looks out of the ordinary but check this out. This some rich shit here.” Going over to the walk in closet Cane pushed aside some of Shawns suits that was hanging up revealing a small red button. When he clicked it the wall slid to the side disappearing.

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me.” Erik whispered to himself.

It was a panic room. Inside the blue neon lit medium sized room was guns holstered against the wall. The ammo inside their cases sat to the side. Erik looked to the right to find that there was some of Shawn’s famous ice pieces laid out on a shelf. All of his most prized possessions was in this room and they had access to all of it. But Erik wasn’t here for that. They had a mission and that was to try and walk out with as much of that money as they can.

“Fuck y’all niggas doing standing around. Get to bagging this shit up.” Durk laughed unzipping his duffel bags.

The money was in a clear casing directly in the middle of the room. It was too much cash to try and fit it all in one duffel bag so they all got three each but it still didn’t look like it would work. Working as fast as they could they were starting to run out of room.

“Durk we don’t have enough bags for this shit.” Cane told him standing up.

Durk looked up at him while placing the stacks in his bags. “So then go run ya ass down to the truck dump it out and come back in here for the rest.” Erik could see that Cane looked confused through his mask. “Now!” Durk yelled.

After the repeated cycle of going back and forth it took them fifteen minutes to gather all of the money. Durk grabbed what he had left and went to the car while Erik and Cane got the rest. To Erik’s surprise everything was going smooth until he seen Cane reach for Shawns jewelry. He knew that it was a bad idea but decided not to say anything. That would be the consequences that Cane would have to deal with and not him.

The sound of the car alarm went off and they immediately ran out of the room and out the house. Throwing the bags in the back Erik hopped back into the car. Moe pulled off once they were safely in. Pulling off his mask he felt Durk slap his shoulder and laughing in celebration as if he just won the lottery.

“With all this money right here. Mufuckas gon be calling me the black Pablo Escobar because I’m bout to take over all of this shit.” Durk laughed smelling the cash.

Erik shook his head. He was glad that it was finally over but deep down inside him he had a terrible feeling that it was the worst decision he ever made.

*Flashback Over*

Erik folded his arms as he jogged his memory of the prior event.“I’ll have to think about it. This some serious shit you asking me Durk. Next level shit.”

Durk smacked his lips. “You always gotta think about some shit instead of doing it. But anyways, I’m doing a lil bash and I want y’all niggas to be there.”

Everyone shook their head agreeing.

“It’s gonna be some bad bitches in there right? I might have to throw on my best walking up in that bitch.” Cane joked around showing off his new Patek Philippe watch.

“I don’t know why you asking. They ain’t gon be worried about ya young broke ass with that pond shop watch you got on.” Durk clowned him rolling his eyes.

Erik smirked watching Cane dismiss him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be there and I’ma bring a plus one. That’s cool?” Erik asked dapping him up. He seen Cane looking confused at him out the corner of his eye.

“So you done found someone else to get ya dick wet? I thought you was gonna be stuck on that bitch Alexis for a minute.” Durk teased him smiling.

“Fuck you worried about my dick for? Gay ass!” Erik laughed pushing him. “Nah she just a friend. I met her at this bar she work at down from my place. She real cool.” He smiled thinking about Harmony.

“Well I’ll be the judge of that when I meet her. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

The two dapped each other up with a side hug and departed from one another.

__________________________

“You sure your brother ain’t gonna have a problem with you putting on that outfit for tonight.” Kelley question Amiyah as she pulled down the front of her dress.

It was finally Saturday night. The night of the Valentine’s Day bash and it was fifteen minutes after nine. They were running late. Durk had told her make it before that time so that she would be let inside without any complications but of course she didn’t listen. Amiyah was stuck choosing between dresses as the time went by. After finding out that Erik was going to be there she wanted to look her best. She hadn’t seen him in a month and she was going to try and impress him some how.

“Why? Do I look okay? Does it fit my body right?” She rambled the questions as she tried to take off the fifth dress for the night.

Kelley rolled her eyes getting. She was already dressed and ready to pick her up by eight thirty but when she walked in Amiyah’s room she was still in her bra and panties.

“You look fine. I think that this is the one you should actually wear. You look beautiful.” She rested her chin on her opened shoulder giving her a soft smile.

Amiyah glanced at her appearance in her body length mirror. She tugged at the pink tie-dye fashion nova Rustic Root Ruched Mini Dress. Her shoulders were out in the open and her cleavage on full display. She knew that there was no way she would be around her brother tonight. Knowing him he would try to send her back home to change and embarrass her in front of everyone. Amiyah blew out air of frustration while throwing her head back.

“Your not just saying that because I’m taking too long are you?” She squinted her eyes at Kelley.

Kelley giggled. “Yes I am but it do look good now let’s hurry up and go before we don’t get in at all.”

Finishing up her final touches Amiyah did a last sweep over her body before grabbing her coat and heading out with Kelley to her car. The club was a good twenty minutes away but with there barely being any cars out tonight they made it in fifteen. Pulling up to the location Kelley and Amiyah both whispered a “damn” at the scene in front of them.

“Your brother wasn’t lying when he said that he was gon have the whole hood pop out.” Kelley exclaimed as she fortunately found parking.

“I guess he wasn’t.” Amiyah whispered to herself. She was starting to feel self conscious about her choice of clothing all over again. The expression was written on her face.

“Listen let me tell you this. We are about to go up in here and have the best night of our lives. We gon dance, diss any niggas that try to step to us, drink, and get fucked up. Don’t worry about what other people think. They already have an idea of you in their head so why stress yourself trying to change it. Fuck what they think.” Kelley lectured while applying her lip gloss.

Amiyah giggled nodding her head. Her confidence level going up just a bit from the pep talk. She answered her back with a “thank you” as they got out the car. Walking hand and hand, they walked to the front of the line. The music blasting on the inside was clearly audible on the out. Sounds of people complaining could be heard when they reached the bouncer.

“I hate to be the one to tell you beautiful ladies but the end of the line is down there.” The tall and buff light skinned bouncer pointed in the direction.

“Oh see we’re with her brother, the one who’s supposed to be hosting the bash, Durk.” Kelley spoke for them.

He raised an eyebrow looking back and forth between them. “Y’all with Durk?”

They nodded in unison while smiling.

“Yeah well you and everyone else. Now get to the back of my line.” His face stern and unfazed.

“Wait Durk is my brother and he told me to be here early but I was running late. Can you just let us in and I’ll bring him back out here to confirm it.” Amiyah pleaded with her hands folded.

“Girl you not the first one that claimed to be some type of family member of his to get in free. Besides I ain’t never heard about Durk having no sister.” The bouncer eyed her up and down with disbelief.

Amiyah sighed. She didn’t even bother to try and call him because she knew that he wouldn’t be able to hear it over the loud music. She gave Kelley an apologetic look as they started to walked to the end but the sound of someone calling her name stopped her.

“Amiyah?”

Turning around she saw Cane walking up to the front. He was wearing a white Christian Dior newspaper denim jean jacket. Underneath was a plain black Dior shirt and black washed jeans to match. Inhaling a sharp breath, Amiyah forgot about him being one of those included.

“Hey Cane. What are you doing here?” She replied softly. She was embarrassed being seen walking to the back of the line.

“I’m here for the party. Why you not inside?” He asked with a smile.

“The bouncer won’t let us in. He thinks we’re just tryna cut the line.” She shrugged rolling her eyes at the security guy.

Cane laughed catching her action. “Do you not know who the host is to this shit? Your brother, that nigga should be escorting you in.”

Amiyah laughed shaking her head.

“Come on. I got y’all.”

Kelley smirked at her as they folded their arms together walking back to the front. They stood next to Cane watching him speak to the guy.

“Yo Diamond, they with me and this is Durk lil sis. Remember her face and think twice next time before you try and keep her from getting in. Got it?” Cane tapped his shoulder creating space for them to walk pass.

“I got it.” The bouncer mumbled letting them by.

When they made it in it was packed to the max in the venue. There was beautiful women and fine men all through the place. Pop Smokes- Hello bombed through the speakers. Bottle girls danced while holding up Don Julio 1942’s and sparklers in the air. Amiyah was impressed with the turn out. She reached for Kelley as they both of their lips curled up with excitement.

“We bout to be lit as fuck.” Kelley yelled over the music.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder she turned to face Cane. His eyes traveling over her body made her stomach fill up with nerves. “Yeah?”

“VIP is up there. I think your brother would want you to be there.” Cane licked his lips. His eyes couldn’t stop going below her face.

Amiyah nodded. “Okay.” She grabbed Kelley’s hand as he led the way up the stairs.

Spotting her brother, Durk had different girls surrounding him. One was twerking on him while the other two recorded and took shots from the tequila bottles. Amiyah rolled her eyes at the sight. Walking over to him she patted his shoulder trying to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” He snapped his head at her.

Amiyah chuckled noticing he was tipsy but also that he didn’t even recognize her. “Really Derrick you don’t even know your own sister?” She folded her arms.

Pushing the girl who was dancing on him out the way he faced her looking over her. Durks face contorted up confused at her outfit.

“Who are you? Because I know Amiyah ass ain’t come out the house like that-“

“Don’t start Durk you promise.” She cut him off reminding him.

He took off his jacket and pushed it towards her. “Here at least put this on.”

Amiyah laughed pushing it away. “I left mine in the car for a reason. Leave me alone.” She started to walk away but felt him grab her wrist.

“Unh uh I didn’t forget. I told you you was going to stay beside me all night, so have fun.” He went back to letting the girls dance on him.

Kelley looked at him with disgust before turning to her friend. “I’m about to get us a drink from the bar. I’ll be back...maybe.” She stated the last part lowly but Amiyah heard it. She watched her leave the VIP section.

Opening up one of the 1942’s that was on the table Amiyah figured she could get her drink on right here. Tilting her head back she allowed the liquor to go down her throat. She made a sour face shaking her head from the taste. She repeated it giving herself four shots. Amiyah wasn’t much of a drinker so it didn’t take much to get her tipsy. Standing on the couch next to her brother she rocked side to side rapping the lyrics along to the song.

“Amiyah sit ya light weight ass down.” Durk yelled drunkenly towards her.

She waved him off and continued to do her thing. From the way she was standing she had a view of whoever was going to come in the section. She thought it was the liquor playing tricks with her until she saw him take more steps coming up. He was dressed in a two tone knitted Givenchy sweater with black jeans. The blinging from his watch and gold chains around his neck caught her eyes. When he smiled he revealed the gold canines in his mouth. His beard looking freshly moisturized and his waves on swim. His eyes were low which told her that he probably smoke a couple of blunts before coming inside. He looked so good.

Amiyah watched as he greeted everyone in the section with salutes and daps before walking up to her brother who was seated next to her.

“Nigga why the fuck you got to come up here and show me out for my shit?” Durk yelled playfully standing up and boxing him.

Amiyah watched as they interacted with each other. At least her question from earlier was answered. They look like they were still best friends.

“Come on man, this light work.” His voice coming out as smooth as butter.

“Yeah whatever nigga.” Durk turned towards her making her status known. “Miyah you not gon say what’s up to Erik?”

When she heard his name she got butterflies in her stomach. It was like it was her first time meeting him all over again. After a month of not seeing him nothing had changed. Her feelings for him never fading but only enhancing the minute she saw him.

“Hey Erik.” She smiled softly putting the bottle that was in her hand down and stepped off the seat.

Erik nodded his head towards her. “What’s good!” He stated nonchalantly. Amiyah couldn’t deny that she was hurt from the tone in his voice. He didn’t even smile at her, only just a nod. But yet they kept eye contact with each other.

“So where she at? I’m trying to meet this “friend”.” Durk asked doing the quotation marks with his fingers.

Amiyah stood to the side confused hearing her brother over the loud music. She didn’t realize that there was a small petite woman standing somewhat behind Erik until her brother mentioned the word ‘she’. She watched as Erik held her hand pulling her in front of him. His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her into him as he rocked them side to side lightly.

“This is my friend Harmony. Harmony this is my best friend and brother Durk.” Erik smiled introducing them. Amiyah felt a sting when he didn’t even bother to introduce her.

She laughed holding her hand out to shake his. “Hi it’s nice to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you Durk.”

Amiyah observed Harmony. She was beautiful. Nice brown skin complexion, pretty hair that looked natural like it was hers, her outfit hugged her coke bottle shape. She had the perfect breast to hips and ass ratio. Her waist barely existing. Amiyah took note of everything. Everything that she dreamed to be but wasn’t. Sadness clouded over her face as she watched them embrace each other.

“Well I hope he told you only good things. But fuck all that you are beautiful ma. I don’t know how you ended up with this ugly ass nigga.” Durk joked around.

Erik gave him a straight face before laughing. “Fuck outta here. So what’s up where the drinks at? You know I need my shit.”

Durk nodded his head going to the table and grabbed his personal bottle of Hennessy and handing it to him. “Drink up!”

Amiyah watched him crack open his bottle and drunk it down like it was water. The little action reminding her of the time when she was at his condo and how he sipped on the bitter drink before showing her the crazy things he could do with his tongue. Amiyah bit her inner cheek grabbing her own bottle and throwing it back two more times.

“Damn girl you can drink.” She heard a light voice laugh. Turning her head while wiping her mouth she saw that it was Harmony.

Amiyah smiled shyly. “I’m just tryna turn up while I can.” Her words a little slurred.

“I’m Harmony. I came with Erik.” Harmony held her hand out again.

Amiyah glanced at it quickly before shaking it. “Amiyah.”

“That’s a pretty name. Are you Durks girl?” She asked genuinely.

Amiyah scrunched her face up doing a fake puke. “Uh no that’s my brother. I came here with him and my friend who’s somewhere around here.”

Harmony laughed holding her fist up to her mouth. She shook her head. “I’m sorry I just saw you standing up here next to him that’s all. Erik didn’t tell me he had a sister.”

“It’s okay.” Amiyah turned her direction towards Erik who was sipping on his bottle while listening to whatever Durk was telling him in his ear. Once again she was hurt when Harmony told her that she didn’t know about her.

For the rest of the night she remained in same spot. Babysitting the area. Kelley came back a few times trying to get her to sneak away but she didn’t want to. Her mood was ruined every time she would look in their direction to find Harmony grinding on Erik and him standing there catching what she was throwing. So she drunk her bottle and danced next to her brother who would wrap his arm over her shoulder as they rapped to whatever song was playing.

In the mist of the party Amiyah saw Erik whisper something to Harmony before getting up to leave the section. She figured she could use this chance to find him and talk to him. To see how he was doing. To get him to look at her the way he used to. Anything to be near him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Amiyah shouted to her brother who only nodded his head drinking out of her bottle.

Walking out the section she bumped and squeeze passed the bodies. She didn’t have a clue where he went. She thought she could catch up with him but with a crowd like the one that was in there tonight it was hopeless. Amiyah gave up trying to search for his frame over the party goers. She strolled to the back hall that held the bathrooms. Going inside the music level dimmed down making it easy to hear if someone was to have a conversation back here.

Dragging her fingers across the wall, her head stayed down not paying attention to what was in front of her causing her to bump into someone.

“Damn my bad.” His deep voice spoke lowly.

Looking up, it was Erik. His eyes were low and going over her body as he stroked his beard.

“It’s o-okay.” Her words becoming a stutter.

Erik nodded his head. She looked tipsy to him or maybe even drunk. He never seen her in this state so it was hard for him to decipher. But Erik knew that he couldn’t leave her alone like this. He wanted to make sure that she was okay.

“You good? You look a lil fucked up.” He spoke bluntly.

“I’m fine. I didn’t have that much.” Amiyah replied. She was tipsy but still was aware of what she was doing.

“I could wait until your finished in the bathroom. We could walk back together.” Erik shoved his hands in his pockets.

Amiyah leaned on the wall with her hands behind her back. “I don’t think your girlfriend would like the sight of us coming back at the same time.”

He smirked as his jaw clenched. “You worried about her when all I’m trying to do is make sure you make it back safe. I don’t want none of these weird ass niggas trying shit. But you thinking about Harmony.” He shook his head as he leaned against the other wall directly in front of her.

“I’m just saying she might get the wrong idea-“

“She’s not my girl.” Erik spoke up cutting her sentence.

Amiyah rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You told me that the last time.” She mumbled knowing he could hear.

Erik’s faces scrunched up. “What’s it to you? Why does it matter if she’s my girl or not?” His arms now folded.

“Because I just find it funny how quick you moved on that fast.” Amiyah snapped looking him up and down.

Erik chuckled. “But wasn’t it you that broke up with me? So I don’t get how you could be hurt by the fact that I’m moving on and you stuck.”

“No Erik I’m hurt at the fact that you act like nothing happened between us.” She was gaining her liquid courage when she stepped in his face. “And how you can just bring her here to meet my brother but not have the decency to even look my way.”

Erik sucked in his bottom lip watching her express herself. “Still don’t know what that got to do with you.” He shrugged.

He was just as hurt as she was. His feelings for her were still raw and there but he wanted to make her feel the same way he felt when she ended it with him. When Erik introduce Harmony to Durk and not Amiyah he did it on purpose. The way he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body close to his was on purpose. The way he let her dance on him in front of her was on purpose. He could feel her stares on them. Erik was hurt and he wanted her to know what he was feeling.

Amiyah scoffed shaking her head. “What is it about her that’s so special? What? The fact that you can fuck her without having to worry about her crazy ass brother finding out about it. That’s why you’re fucking her?”

Erik chuckled. “How would you know if I’m fucking her or not?”

“For you to be some drug dealer you sure are a fucking coward Erik!” Amiyah pushed his chest but he caught her by the wrist.

“I told you I’m not a fucking drug dealer and for someone to not ride dick...you sure are riding mine. Why you worried about who I’m fucking if you ain’t the fucking me?” Erik’s words were hard.

Amiyah stared at him. “I hate you.” She mumbled looking at his lips trying to free herself.

Erik backed her into the wall. He put her hands above her head and interlocking their fingers as he looked down at her and towered over her body. “Fuck you say to me?”

“I said I hate you-“

Her words were cut off with his lips connecting to hers. His hold left her hands and his arms wrapped around her waist. Traveling down to her ass he cupped both cheeks firmly. Erik felt his dick jump when she moaned into his mouth . Her tongue gliding with his as he felt the warmth of it overtaking his body. It’s been over a month since he felt her lips. Erik’s heart was beating fast knowing that it was risky to be making out with Durks sister and how anyone could walk in and see them. But he couldn’t stop and didn’t want to.

Amiyah moaned as she held his face bringing him impossibly closer than what he already was. She could taste the Hennessy off of his tongue mixed with her tequila. She was putting everything that she was feeling into this kiss. She wanted him to know that she missed him and wanted to start over. She didn’t mean it when she said that she hated him. With the alcohol and emotions getting in the way she wanted to say anything to keep him by her.

Erik pulled away with a tug of her lower lip and placed a soft peck on it. He cursed at himself for falling weak for her once again. No matter how much space they had away from each other she was always able to pull him in.

“What is it about her that I’m not?” Amiyah interrupted his thoughts. She tried to stop herself from asking the question but she wanted to know.

Erik sighed putting his forehead against hers. “You gotta learn how to stop questioning yourself when it comes to these other females. Your beautiful ma. Stop that shit.” He gave her one last kiss on the top of her head as he left her standing there alone going back to the party.

“Okay.” Amiyah whispered to herself.

__________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

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How To Get Grapes To Grow Surprising Tips

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How To Grow Oregon Grape

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Growing Grape Cuttings In Water

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