#so he isn’t feeling good and have been monitoring him closely since yesterday

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[the-artof-starting-over]

I wanna see your face and know I made it home - Chapter one

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Chapter title: Tried to open up my eyes, I'm hoping for a chance to make it alright Pairing: Buck and Eddie Words:1690 Title: painting flowers - all time low read on AO3 if you like

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"I want to go with Eddie" The words were stumbling past his lips before his medicated mind could catch up to what he was asking for.

Silence fell between the trio, even the annoying beeping from his monitor and the hustling outside of his room had seemed to fade into oblivion as he caught sight of Maddie's crestfallen look which caused the shame to spiral and wrap its tight vice around his chest.

"You have Jee to look after, you, you don't need me in the way" he gives the excuse in an attempt to hide the whole truth, the ones that screamed that he feels safest and most at home with Eddie, that the warmth that spreads through his chest when Eddie smiles at him would be enough to melt away the chill lingering in his bones. The words are the truth but not the whole truth, he doesn’t want to get in Maddie's way, she has enough to handle with a toddler running around. But neither of the people in the room or anyone else had to know the whole truth. It was safer if he just kept that to himself.

“You are never in the way Evan” he could hear the exasperation clear in her voice watching as she ran a hand through her hair.

His eyes flickered over to Eddie, standing with his arms crossed at the foot of Buck’s hospital bed, his own eyes focused on Buck. He couldn’t name the expression on Eddie’s face but somehow it was harder to look at than Maddie’s disappointment. Hers was an expression he was familiar with, he had seen it many times. Too many times really. Every time he had gotten hurt, Maddie had ended up with the same expression, it was familiar, and it was safe somehow. But Eddie, his expression isn’t one of disappointment as he expected, but he can't figure out what it is. He finds that it doesn’t matter because all he wants is for Eddie to come closer, he’s been standing at the foot of his bed since he showed up today, staying out of reach. He knew he wouldn't allow himself to reach out even if Eddie did come close enough. But he was closer yesterday, sitting in what looked like an uncomfortable chair next to him, his arms resting on the bed when Buck woke up confused and in pain. Seeing Eddie had calmed him and slowed his heart rate enough to realise he had made it out, that he must be safe now.

He looked back over to Maddie, seeing the tears gathering in her eyes and it was all too much, he didn't want to be hurting anyone, he just wanted to go home. He clenched his eyes shut, as he brought his non-injured arm up and tried to rub away the headache that was building behind his eyes.

“Buck, you okay? Do you need the doctor?” Eddie’s voice was laced with worry so Buck shook his head and forced himself to open his eyes to the harsh light. He felt warmth spread through him as he saw Eddie now standing right next to him, one hand hovering above where his injured arm lay strapped to his chest in the sling. Reaching out but not quite touching. A gap preventing him from feeling Eddie's hand calloused with labour connecting with his own damaged skin

“No, uh, I’m okay, I’m good” the words came with a forced smile that he hoped would do the trick at easing the worried crease present between Eddie’s brows.

The crease remained and Buck could feel his gut twist, he was just trying to help, he was trying to do something good, and somehow he ended up here with the ones he loves the most worrying about him. Again. That would have made him feel good at one point, he knows that. Now it makes him feel nauseous. He wishes they would both just leave, as much as he never wants either of them to, it’s bound to happen. The looks they are sharing, clearly have a silent conversation about how he is all too much and that they would be better off leaving him here. He never should have asked to go with Eddie, he was only offering so that Maddie wouldn't have to, and Maddie was clearly doing the same for Eddie. They both had their families to take care of. He couldn't force himself on either of them. He thought of the loft, the space that never once felt like home, and resigned himself to recuperating there, on his own. It wouldn’t be fun, but nothing about this was, and at least this way he wouldn’t be taking up too much of their time, he wouldn’t be adding anything more to their plate. He wouldn’t be exhausting them.

“You know, I’d be okay going home on my own, I’m okay honestly” as if to prove his point Buck pushes himself to sit up straighter, using his uninjured arm as leverage as his ribs protest loudly. He fights to control his expression, hoping the pain doesn’t shine through.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous, you can barely move, and you’re not going home to your loft all alone, there is no chance that is happening,” Maddie said. Her voice was direct and he knew she was right, even though he didn’t want her to be. He had taken care of himself for a long time, but Maddie had also spent a lot of her time taking care of him, he didn’t mean to add to that time.

“Maddie is right, there is no way you’re going to your loft alone.” Eddie’s tone is somehow soft but firm, and he knows there is no room to argue when he sounds like that.

“You know I kind of hate it when you two gang up on me,” Buck said, hoping the laugh he forced did the job of convincing them that he wasn’t about to fall apart.

“Well maybe if you stopped self-sacrificing then we wouldn’t have to” as the words left Maddie he heard a sharp inhale from Eddie and Buck felt the heat rising in his chest, burning its way through his skin as he blinked up at his sister.

“I, uh,” unable to find the right words he settled on “I’m sorry” whatever meds they gave him were making him too fuzzy for this. Too fuzzy to really try and explain why he ended up here, too fuzzy to focus on making things right again. He knew he would have to do that at some point, but for now, his head spun and forming more than basic thoughts felt like he was trying to navigate through a head that was stuffed full of cotton wool.

He watched as the fight drained from Maddie’s face leaving behind sadness as she sat down next to him on the bed. Her hand reaches out and he feels her cup his face, forcing him into the eye contact he’s been trying to avoid as she wipes at his cheek with her thumb. It’s only then Buck realises that he must have been crying.

“I love you, if you want to stay with Eddie then you can stay with him, right?” He watches as Maddie’s eyes glance over at Eddie looking for confirmation.

He follows her line of sight to watch as Eddie nods and meets his eyes “yeah, of course”

Struggling to find the right words, Buck offers him a small smile, hoping, praying that it will convey just how grateful he is. But he knows that it’s going to fall short, as he always does. Somehow consistently too much and never enough all at the same time.

“Chris will be happy to see you” Eddie adds and he couldn’t stop the warmth that spreads through his chest at the thought of seeing Chris, even if it is quickly disrupted by the worry that maybe Eddie is only offering his home as a safe place to recover for Chris’s sake.

Pushing that thought down as far as he can, he plasters a smile on his face before saying “I will be very happy to see him too.”

“He has been asking if he could come to see you every day” Eddie admits, and he longs to be able to reach out and soothe the worried crease in between his brows. This is an expression of Eddies he knows all too well, caused by guilt and the fear he’s been making the wrong decisions for Christopher.

He wishes he knew how to reassure Eddie that he made a good decision and that bringing Chris by to see his lifeless body as he tried to heal enough to be able to wake up would have been probably too much for the boy who had already been through too much loss. He aches to offer that reassurance, but his head is clouded by fog and all the words he wants to say are spinning around just out of reach.

"It would have been a lot for him if you had brought him," Maddie says the words he had been trying to say as she fights past a lump in her throat "it was a lot for all of us."

Clenching his eyes shut to fight against the tears threatening to fall he lets out another stumbling apology ���I'm sorry, I wasn't, I was just, I'm sorry.” Frustrated he couldn't find any of the words he was looking for through the cotton wool stuffed into his brain.

He feels a steady weight press gently onto his shoulder on his uninjured side and his breathing even out a little. He takes a few steadying breaths before he belatedly realises it’s Eddie who has his hand resting on his shoulder. He bites the corner of his upper lip as he forces himself to open his eyes, immediately finding Eddie staring right back, and he’s back to feeling like he can’t quite catch his breath as he receives a small smile and hears Eddie’s calm voice telling him “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

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Hi, its been a while. This has been sitting in my google docs for a long time. I haven't had the energy to write lately but I'm trying to get back into it. Decided to post this with the new episode coming so soon! i am so not ready for it! its gonna destroy me!

I have been meaning to write a second part to this, where the Diaz boys take care of Buck as he recovers in their home, so hopefully, by posting this part I can motivate myself to write that!

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter thirty-five

Welcome to the shitshow! Remember that I love y’all <3

Warnings: arguing, fighting, tension, angst

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Thirty-Five: I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

The tearful phone call with your mom lasts for nearly four hours.

“I just don’t know what to do,” you admit. “I don’t want to leave the BAU.”

“I know, honey.”

“And I’m not going to,” you say firmly, wiping your cheeks on the back of your hand. “I didn’t let Trevor stop me from accepting that job with the BCI, I’m not letting this stop me from staying in the BAU. I’m better than that.”

“I know, baby.”

“And I want Aaron, I do, but if it’s at this cost, then I…” You don’t even want to say it out loud.

“Have you talked to him?” Your mom asks gently.

You shake your head. “Haley surprised him at the office earlier with Jack, so I’m sure he’s hanging out with Jack for the rest of the day. He might spend the night, too.”

“Hm,” your mom sighs. “Is he trying to get back together with her?”

“Not that I know of.” You pause. “I don’t think he is. I know him, he’d…he’d tell me if they were, right? Or if she had asked about it?”

“I want to say that he would, honey, but I don’t know. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I know he loves you, but…”

“But what?”

“Marriage…” Your mom sighs. “When you marry someone, especially as young as the two of them were, the bond is different. Add a child into the mix and it’s…it’s hard to let go of.” She pauses. “I never told you this, but letting go of your father was the hardest decision I ever had to make.”

“You told me it was the easiest.”

“Because I had to tell myself that. If I told myself anything else, I wouldn’t have had the courage to leave. I had to convince myself I could do it, and that meant letting you know that I could. I didn’t want you to think our independence should be held hostage from us.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying, I know you love him, and I know he loves you. But you’re still young. And whatever your future looks like, as long as it has the best version of you, then it’s enough. Everything else will sort itself out. But you have to be there and be the best you before everything else can fall into place around you.”

+++

When you head into the BAU the next day, you go straight to Hotch’s office. You don’t stop at your desk, or Morgan’s when he calls out to you (though you do wave at him, and Emily too).

“Come in,” Hotch announces after hearing a knock, unaware that it’s you.

“Hey,” you say to get his attention. “Can we talk?”

Immediately, he stands, rounding his desk to gather you in his arms. “Hey, of course. I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you last night.”

“It’s okay,” you pause to accept his kiss. “I was on the phone with my mom for a while anyway.”

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yes and no,” you exhale nervously, stepping out of his arms, needing to ground yourself. “That’s why I came straight here.”

“Okay…” He steps over and shuts the door, gesturing for you to continue.

“When I was called into Strauss’s office yesterday, it wasn’t about being back. It wasn’t routine. It was because she knows about us.”

“I know.”

You freeze, mouth open and ready to speak, but you shut it slowly, processing his words. “What do you mean you know?”

“I talked with her yesterday before I left.”

“And you didn’t think to text me about it yesterday?”

Aaron watches you carefully. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t tell me the real reason Strauss talked to you either.”

“Because Haley was here with Jack!” You argue. “I wasn’t going to bring that up in front of them.”

“Okay, I understand.”

“What did Strauss talk to you about?” You ask, not wanting to stay near the topic of Haley for too long. “Was it just about her knowing about us?”

Aaron looks like he doesn’t want to answer, but you stare him down until he does. “Yes. And she asked if you had been…inappropriately pushing yourself onto me.”

“What?”

“I told her you had done nothing like that whatsoever,” he says quickly and firmly, wanting you to hear him. “But she did ask that your behavior be monitored for the time being.”

“For the— Hotch, are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you agreed to that?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“You could’ve told her that our relationship is mutually consensual and none of her business.”

He gives you a look because you both know he couldn’t tell Strauss it’s “none of her business,” but you still wish he had. You could certainly never say something like that to her, but he could almost definitely get away with it. You’d be surprised if he hasn’t said something similar to Strauss before this.

“I didn’t want to confirm anything about us and risk your termination as an agent in the bureau.”

“Well, thank you for your concern, but Strauss very politely told me yesterday that I need to pick a transfer before she forces me out of here.”

“What?”

“She talked to me about transferring the entire time,” you cry. “She told me I’m young, I don’t need to go to extreme lengths to prove myself and better my skillset.”

“It’s true, you don’t.”

“She thinks I’m sleeping with you to do exactly that.”

Aaron sighs heavily. “I told her that you’re not.”

“She’s not going to believe it. She obviously didn’t believe you since my behavior is now going to be monitored like I’m a fucking child.”

“I know it’s not ideal,” Hotch says. “And I wish I didn’t have to agree with her. But if these are some small prices we have to pay, then…we have to pay them.”

It sounds good. In theory. It sounds right.

But it’s wrong.

“No,” you shake your head. “Because they’re not prices that we’re paying. It’s all coming down on me. And I can’t do that. I can’t.”

“Y/N…” He hates that you feel this way, and part of him knows you’re right.

“I know we said we would wait before telling Strauss, but that was before she found out. She already knows now, so why don’t we go to her ourselves and tell her how serious we are?”

You thought he’d be all for this idea. But he shakes his head.

“It isn’t that simple.” He pauses. “She also mentioned others overhearing our…less than appropriate comments to one another.”

“You mean yours.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hotch, I told you before we even started any of this that we needed to stay professional. Your good girl comments here and there surely weren’t peak professionalism.”

“If it’s been making you uncomfortable, why haven’t you stopped me?”

“Because I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you cry. “I never was, and I never am around you. I knew we were pushing it, but I didn’t think about stopping.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better.”

“It’s fine—”

“No, Y/N, as unit chief, I should’ve known better.”

“Okay…” You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to keep going. “Okay?”

“I think it would be best if you and I take a step back from our relationship until this all settles down.”

You blink. “What?”

“I knew since the beginning that something like this could happen,” he pauses. “And I’ve worried for a while now that our relationship is too…inappropriate.” Pause. “That it’s putting a strain on the team and our jobs.”

“How long is a while?” You ask. And when he doesn’t reply, you demand an answer. “Hotch. How long have you been thinking like this?”

“Since the night you were shot,” he admits quietly, “and we almost lost you.”

“Since…” You cut yourself off out of sheer disbelief. “You’re telling me you’ve been thinking like this for…for the past six months?”

“Y/N—”

“All this time we’ve been together, and you’ve just been waiting to break up with me.”

“I want to be with you, but our jobs…”

“And if I transfer somewhere else? What then?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your job here for our relationship.”

“And if I do?”

He says nothing.

You figure that’s enough of an answer.

“Do you need me for anything today?” You ask. “For work.”

“No,” he murmurs.

“I’ll be going home, then,” you say. “Have a good rest of your day.”

+++

Down in the bullpen, Morgan, Emily, and Garcia have been watching your conversation with Hotch unfold through the cracks in the blinds of his office. He didn’t close them all the way, so Spencer has been able to lip read.

But as soon as Spencer realized the conversation wasn’t going anywhere good, he stopped.

When you open the door to Hotch’s office, you’re not surprised at all to find the team staring up at you. You ignore eye contact with every single one of them as you skip down the steps, heading straight for the glass doors.

Hotch stands in the doorway of his office, watching you go, watching Garcia and Emily run after you.

Standing outside the elevator, shaking with frustration, and holding back your tears as hard as you can, refusing to cry here.

“Okay, what just happened?” Pen asks, and you almost don’t hear her because you can barely see straight anyway.

“Nothing,” you mutter. “Or—I don’t know. I don’t actually know what just happened to me. God, can this thing hurry up?” You press the call button a few more times.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” Emily replies.

“It looked like—Wait.” Pen stops, her eyes wide. “Did you—”

Finally, the elevator doors open.

“Did you break up?” Emily finishes, sadness all over her face.

“I don’t know,” you reply, stepping inside the elevator. “Ask him, I guess.”

You reach over and almost press the ground floor, but at the last second, you hit Strauss’s floor number.

You wave sadly at Pen and Emily, and as the doors close, you catch a glimpse of Hotch standing at the glass doors.

I can always return to the BAU someday, you tell yourself. Maybe this is a sign that I’m needed somewhere else.

After Aaron sees the elevator doors close, he knows right then that he’s lost you.

Next chapter

[royalnugget42]

Ok so now that I’m officially in the Resident Evil fandom here’s something

In the aftermath of the explosion in that little village, Ethan’s body is recovered. He is completely molded though, and has no memory except that he has a daughter named Rose, and he is sent to a secret facility to be contained and researched. He spends years being experimented on, poked and prodded and his regenerative abilities grow to astonishing strength.

He can regrow whole limbs now. He found this out the hard way, when the scientists started cutting off bits and pieces of him. Whole bones have been regrown from nothing but mold, though he has to eat a lot of rotten food to make up for it. His captors never tell him who he was or what he did, not even telling him his name, and referring to him only by Subject F-001, or Series F.

Their guess as to how he got like this without showing any of the homicidal tendencies of his predecessors is a mystery to them. Perhaps it is the memory of his daughter, perhaps it is his isolation from the rest of the molded, perhaps he just has something in his DNA. Whatever the case, when he is not being hurt he is resentful and angry, but never violent, nor does he seem interested in spreading the mold further.

It’s 16 years after they took him that funding starts to run out for the project. They’ve devoted all the time to research that they can, and now they must look to utilize him in other ways.

They begin with that question, of why he is different from the rest of the molded, retaining some semblance of his humanity. They can’t take his memory of Rose, though they’ve tried, and instead start to introduce foreign samples of mold into his diet, to see if he gains any of their traits.

Did they know what was left catalogued in the E-series mold? Did they realize that every infected soul has left a mark in that strain? Did they predict...no they couldn’t have. But they should have.

Ethan Winters goes to sleep and dreams of his wife. He doesn’t remember having a wife, how could he? But he supposes this must be her, she is lying in bed with him and calling him baby. This is Rose’s mother, and she is beautiful. But she doesn’t say his name. He doesn’t know hers.

When he wakes up he sees a little girl with black hair at the foot of his bed. She giggles at him, but runs when he calls out, vanishing through the concrete walls. When he mentions this apparition, the scientists dutifully catalogue the apparent hallucinations in their notes on him, but they do nothing to help him when he begs them for knowledge.

“Where is she?” he shouts into the stark, empty air. “Where is my wife, where is my daughter? Where’s Rose?” There is no answer. Just the buzzing of fluorescent lights and the quiet beeps of machinery.

The second dream is of a kitchen. Sunlight pours through the window, and the wooden floor is grimy, but only because it hasn’t been washed since breakfast yesterday.

There’s an old man at the table. His wife brings a meal to the table, and whatever it is smells delicious. Their son, it must be their son, sits off to the side, scrolling nonchalantly through his phone. Their daughter is gathering silverware.

They are the picture of an idyllic, loving family. They smile at him and ask him if he’d like anything more to eat, gently chiding him. He’s so thin, shouldn’t he have just one more helping? So he dutifully finishes off another, before declaring he is done. The old man turns to him.

“You’ve got to go back soon. When you do you’ve got to remember.” Remember what? He only remembers Rose, he doesn’t even know who these people are. They aren’t his family, he knows that, but in a warped and twisted way they also are. The edges of his vision are black with mold as they all beg him to remember, to break free, to be himself again. Zoe is the last to speak.

“I know you remember us. We live on in you, everyone does. We’re all counting on you, kid.” He feels like he’s too old to be called a kid by this girl, but maybe this girl is older than she looks. Maybe he’s younger than he thought.

The little girl is back. She doesn’t run this time, just stares at him. It seems she is waiting for a question, and it’s only as he realizes this that he knows what to ask. “Who are you?” he asks. “Who am I?”

She laughs at this, bright and sharp as glass. “I’m your daughter, of course! And you’re my daddy.”

Rose? Is this little girl Rose? But no, she isn’t. He’s not sure how he knows but he does. This girl isn’t his daughter, except she is, isn’t she? They’re connected. A family in reverse. He didn’t make her, not like he made Rose, but she didn’t make him either. He’s too new for that. How can he be younger than his daughter?

“Evelyn.”

She smiles at the recognition in his eyes. There’s fear there, but also familiarity. This is at least someone he knows. If she is his daughter, then he must be her father. That’s how it works isn’t it? All at once he feels like a part of his identity is locked into place. If he is a father then he has to protect his daughters, both of them. He must find Rose, and his wife.

She fades away before he passes out again. He dreams of pain, in his hand, in his legs. He dreams of terror and aching phantom memories. There’s a woman, tall and beautiful, with hands like long knives, her daughters all over him, many-legged. There’s a doll, there are so many dolls, and there’s a woman in mourning. A creature of water and filth confronts him, spewing out acid that burns in his mind. He talks to a man that moves metal without touching it. The man tells him to remember, tells him not to give up.

“You were always so stubborn. Don’t lose that. You’ll get those bastards yet.”

There’s a woman, and she has Rose. He kills her, and as she crumbles she whispers that she is finally with her daughter. She whispers to him that they are family, that they are both related and the same. He takes Rose from where she cries amongst the stones, and feels his hands fall apart.

Evelyn is a good daughter. When he is awake, he tells stories, about his dreams, about her mother. Evelyn tells him things too.

“You and mom tried to kill me, but I never knew why. I had a long time to think though, and I think I might’ve been a bad girl.”

For what it’s worth, he is sorry, but Evelyn shakes her head. “It was for the best, after all. You weren’t really my dad then.”

He doesn’t know what he is. The scientists call him series F, but he doesn’t know what that means. Evelyn used to be called series E. She says maybe his name starts with an F, but he knows that it doesn’t.

He’s different from Evelyn, but not so different that he is distant from her. Evelyn says that she tried to give him a gift, something she gave to lots of people. She gave it to his wife too, but she never gave anything to him.

“You have a gift too,” she says, “but it didn’t come from me. You made it all on your own. I came from this place, from these scientists, but you made yourself. It’s like you grew from nothing.”

Evelyn always wants to have more family, always wants to give more of her gift. She asks if Ethan is the same, and he realizes that he has never tried to give his gift to someone else. He doesn’t know if he wants to. He already has all the family he could ask for.

He dreams of his wife. Her name is Mia. He knows that now. His name is Ethan, and her name is Mia and they are family.

Scientists have been recording his conversations, and they’re growing concerned. Ethan spends so much time talking to his “daughter” Evelyn. They have realized by now that the E strain mold in his diet must have contained some trace of Evelyn’s consciousness, possibly along with others. They’ve stopped exposing him to it but it seems the damage is done. He asks for Mia and Rose at every waking moment that he does not spend talking to Evelyn.

They took a risk. They took far too many risks. Something happens one day, when a woman comes in to monitor his physical state. He was supposed to be sleeping, but the drugs wore off sooner than expected. He saw the woman through the door, and he begged her, to let him out, to bring him to his family. She ignored him. He pounded against the glass and she just rolled her eyes and took more notes.

Something snapped. No, not snapped. It twisted and warped and grew. It blossomed.

If this woman wasn’t going to let him see his family, then he would make more family. He would make her see his side, and once they were family she would have to help him. That’s what family does. His breathing slowed, and he closed his eyes. With every ounce of longing and loneliness he reached—

Agony.

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”

A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions

XXXXX

After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.

Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.

The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.

The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.

The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”

“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.

“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”

“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”

“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”

Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.

“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”

“And what’s your schedule for the month?”

“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”

Jamie just nodded. The next month.

It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.

“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.

“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.

Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”

Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.

“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.

“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”

“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.

“I told ye it’s daft.”

“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”

Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.

But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.

Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.

Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.

With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”

Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”

“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.

“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.  

As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.

-

So the four-week long distance trial began.

The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.

Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.

Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.

They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.

It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.

It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.

Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”

With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article

-

On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.

“Ah, lad”

“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”

“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”

“Today? Not yet. Why?”

She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.

She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.

“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.

“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.

“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”

“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”

Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.

“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.

“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”

“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”

“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.

“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”

“A bit but something we can talk about later.”

“Okay”

It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.

It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”

“Why didn’t you call -?”

“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”  

“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.

“Are we okay now?” she asked.

“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.

[rebelwrites]

You Don’t Know Her Like I Did

Jax Teller x Reader 

Text in bold is present day and the rest is memories

Warnings Death

That day would stay with Jax until the day he died. The day his world finally crumbled, the day his life changed forever. The boisterous, loud mouth biker everyone knew had gone and had been replaced with a quiet, lost biker. He remembered the day like it was only yesterday, the one call that broke the untouchable Jackson Teller.

Leaning against his bike, he felt his phone ring for a millionth time. Pulling it out of his pocket he saw all the missed calls from his mom. Hitting call he pulled the phone to his ear whilst he lit a cigarette.

“Mom you know I’m on a run” he sighed.

“I know I’m sorry son but this is important” she sighed, by the tone in his moms voice he knew something was wrong, something had happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an accident” Gemma said shakily. “It’s Y/N”

Instantly he felt sick, panic ran through his veins at the thought of his old lady hurt.

“I’m on my way”

Shoving the phone back in his pocket and tossing the half smoked cigarette in the mud he squeezed the throttle, racing home to his baby girl. He was at least two hours away from home yet he managed to get home within the hour, not caring about breaking the speed limits.

His feet pounded the floors of the hospital as he made his way to you. His heart shattered into a million pieces when he saw you laying in the hospital bed, cuts and bruises littering your soft skin. Tubes and wires keeping you breathing.

“What happened” he breathed sitting by your side taking your hand in his.

“A lorry ran a red light” Gemma said her voice barley a whisper. “Jax the doctors are saying it’s not good. We could, she might” she was unable to say the words but he knew what she was saying.

Brushing his fingers over your cheeks, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Come on princess” he sobbed “just open then beautiful eyes for me. Please”

The only sound in the room was the steady beep of the heart rate monitor that was until the door opened, making Jax glance up to see who was entering the room.

“Sorry Jackie Boy” Chibs sighed “This one wants their daddy”

“Daddy” Harry said squirming in Chib’s arms before he place him on his feet and he ran into Jax’s arms.

Picking his son up, holding him tight in his arms he placed a long kiss on the crown of his head.

“Is mommy going to be okay” He asked as he played with the bullet hanging round Jax’s neck.

“I don’t know buddy” Jax sighed not wanting to lie to the 4 year old. “Mommy isn’t well baby, but no matter what happens I need to remember that she loves you so much”

A couple of hours had passed and nothing had changed.

“Okay Mr Teller, we are going to bring Y/N out of the coma and the rest will be up to her, unfortunately there isn’t much we can do at this stage” The doctor said softly as he did whatever he needed to do to wake you.

Jax watched intently as your eyes fluttered open, one look in them he knew things wasn’t good, the twinkle you normally had, was gone. He knew it was only a matter of time.

“My prince charming” You said, voice horse and not much more than a whisper.

“Mommy” Harry grinned trying to clamber into your arms.

“Buddy be careful with mommy okay” Jax whispered placing your son on the bed, watching as he snuggled into your side.

“Where does it hurt momma” Harry said placing his tiny hand on top of yours “You say kisses make everything better”

Jax thought he had no more tears to shed until Harry spoke.

“I don’t think kisses are going to work this time baby” You whispered using all your strength to hold your son tight, taking in his scent.

You and Jax knew this was the end, your body was shutting down and there wasn’t a thing anyone could do to stop it.

“Jax” You whispered looking at your husband who was trying to squeeze himself onto the tiny hospital bed.

“I know baby I know” He sighed kissing your lips softly, like you was made of glass.

“Look after our baby” You whispered tears streaming down your face as you felt yourself getting weaker. “Look after yourself, raise our son to be an amazing man like you”

“Baby I don’t want to let go” He sobbed into your hair.

“I know but you have to” You sobbed “Just remember I will always love you, you will always be my outlaw prince” Leaning down you placed a kiss on your sons head “my baby boy, I will always love you even when I am not here”

“Momma I love you too” Harry said looking up at your with his big blue eyes full of innocence.

“I love you” You said, your voice getting weaker.

Jax knew what was coming, he knew it was time.

“I love you to baby girl” He sobbed placing one last kiss on your lips, resting his forehead on yours, he watched your eyes close, a smile on your face as the monitor beside you stopped beating constantly and was now just one long beep.

Leaning against the bar, nursing the bottle of Jack, Jax felt a hand on his back. It had been 6 months since the worst day of his life, he had hardly been home, hardly seen his son. Just spent his days at the club.

“Maybe talking to someone will help Jax” Chibs said lowly.

“Don’t really feel like talking” Jax grunted “She’s gone and I feel it might just be too much to bear if I spoke about that day”

After a moment of silence Jax spoke again.

“You’ll never understand, no one will, you don’t know what we’ve been through. That girl’s my best friend and there’s no way you or anyone else is gonna be able to help me. She’s the only one who can and she’s gone” Jax said as hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he held onto his chain that now contained your wedding and engagement ring alongside the bullet. “Chibs, I can’t forget that day, no matter what I do and I feel like I’m drowning in all these memories. Our whole life together is replaying in my head”

The day you walked into the lot of Teller-Morrow, Jax knew his life was gonna change.

“Isn’t that Y/N Y/L/N?” Opie asked making Jax look up. “Yeah man, Jheeze not seen her since we dropped out of school” Jax said wiping his hands on the rag before sauntering over your you.

Jax had the biggest crush on you during his school years yet for some reason never had the balls to ask you out.

“Well I didn’t think I’d see you back in charming darlin’” Jax smirked.

“Fuck me, if it isn’t the famous Jax Teller” you laughed as he gave you a hug.

“But seriously what you doing in charming” Jax nodded offering a cigarette which you accepted, he noticed straight away you wore no wedding band “thought you’d be married to some pompous prick”

“I guess you are half right on that” you laughed pushing smoke out your nose “I dated a pompous prick but all the money in the world wouldn’t make me to go back to that life style. The bastard had an issue with me riding and how I dress so I left his sorry ass”

“Jheeze, guess you can take the girl out of charming but can’t take charming out the girl” Jax smirked “What can we do for ya”

“New tyres for the beast” you laughed nodding your head to the bike parked at your side.

Jax couldn’t help but smile as he watched you catch up with Opie, you had changed a lot since school, and definitely more women now, you wasn’t the skinniest person with your well defined hourglass figure, he couldn’t help himself as his eyes trailed your body, the ripped jeans hugging your curves, the vest stop revealing the perfect amount of cleavage, the battered leather bomber jacket was like a second skin, your hair pulled into a simple pony tail, cigarette hanging out your mouth. Jax was infatuated.

As he walked closer he overheard your conversation with Opie as you sat on top of the bench.

“He just couldn’t handle the fact I’m not who I was in school” you laughed.

Back in the day you were a straight A student Daddy’s little girl" Jax smirked making you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I just want a bad boy” you shrugged smirking as you saw Jax’s breathing hitch.

There was only one person that knew you had always crushed on Jax and that was Opie.

“I’m gonna sort your bike out” he nodded leaving you and Jax alone.

“If you want a bad boy then baby you got it” Jax winked “I’ll take you to the wrong side of the tracks”

After about half an hour Opie tossed your keys to you.

“So what do I owe you” you said pulling a wad of cash out your leather jacket.

“Put you cash away women” Jax laughed putting his arm around your shoulders “I think letting me take you on a date will be enough payment”

“And I can’t cope, it’s another death inside the family. It’s like she stole my way to breathe” Jax said playing with his wedding band. He could tell by the look on Tig’s face what he was going to say so Jax held his hand out stopping the words escaping his lips “Don’t try to tell me it stops hurting, don’t try to tell me she ain’t worth it”

The sound of little feet running along the hard wood floor of the club made Jax look up from the bottle. Reaching down he pulled Harry onto his knee.

“Daddy please don’t cry” Harry said standing on Jax’s knee wiping the tears from his eyes. “Momma wouldn’t want you crying”

“I know baby” Jax sighed kissing Harry’s head

“Are you coming home tonight?” Harry asked as he sat on the bar resting his feet on Jax’s stomach.

“I don’t know buddy” Jax said ruffling his sons hair.

“Pwease daddy” Harry said looking up through his eyelashes at him, tears filling his eyes “I miss momma too but you are never home anymore”

“I’m proud to be in the bad news crowd. The one my mama warned me about. The closest thing to hell she’s ever raised” you winked at Jax as you threw you leg over your bike “you coming baby”

“I’d go anywhere with you” Jax smirked placing his hand on your upper thigh, eyes full of lust.

“Come on then big boy let go bend the law and break some laws” you giggled placing a cigarette between your lips.

“Mmmm there’s other things we could do” Jax smirked running his finger across the top of your boobs.

“Maybe I’d let you do me on your bike” you whispered in his ear biting your lip causing him to growl.

“Grandma said we can order pizza tonight daddy” Harry grinned.

“That’s great” Jax nodded no emotion in his voice.

“Come on Harry” Chibs said picking him up and placing him on the floor. “Go find uncle Hap and annoy him”

As soon as Harry had ran off to find Happy, Chibs places a firm hand on Jax’s shoulder. Squeezing him tight.

“Right you listen here Jackie boy” Chibs said, his tone firm “you have a gorgeous son that’s trying so fucking hard to get his daddy’s attention and you are shutting him out, just like everyone else”

“Come back to me when you lose a wife” Jax scoffed.

“That shit don’t wash with me and you know it” Chibs snapped. Someone needed to be firm with him. “You aren’t the only one that is hurting. Everyday I find Harry just sat on the swing crying. The little lad is trying to be strong for his daddy”

“I swear you two was baptized in dirty water, by the hands of the devil himself, between the banks of a Whiskey River, beside the Highway to Hell” Opie laughed as he passed you and Jax a beer. “You are like the perfect match for each other”

Tonight was a massive celebration for your and Jax engagement, you was currently sat on Jax’s knee, his arm round your waist whilst your arms was tangled in his hair.

“Girl you got an outlaw. Ready to lay down all my guns. A dirty old hound dog. Learning new tricks like cuddlin’ up. You’ve got a hellcat purrin’ like a kitten. You’ve got a sinner down on his knees. It had to be hell on an angel. Lovin’ the devil outta me” Jax’s whispered as he kissed on along your jaw.

“Jax baby, we can’t dip out just yet” you giggled feeling full affect of the weed and whiskey.

“I will be quick” he smirked “promise”

“Fine” you giggled “show me a good time Teller”

“With pleasure princess” he said placing his hands under your ass as he carried you to his dorm room.

“I don’t have to sit here and take this shit” Jax snapped storming out of the club.

He threw his leg over his bike and sped off to the cemetery. The one place his brother wouldn’t nag him, the one place he could think.

Soon enough he was now sat in front of your grave.

“I’ve got too many I care about in this fucking place” jax sighed as he lit a smoke. “Babygirl I’m struggling, I really am. I don’t know what to do”

“It still amazes me even to this day how you got my every flaw, my rebel heart, every tattoo, every scar and still loved the outlaw in me” Jax whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I know everyone is probably thinking I should be moving on with my life right now but right now I can’t, they didn’t know you like it did baby girl, they don’t really know how I’m struggling to live without you, I’ve hardly spent time with Harry and I know if you was here you be kicking my ass right now”

“Thought I’d find you here baby” Gemma said sitting on the grass next to Jax placing a soft kiss on his head.

“How did you do it Ma?” Jax asked tears clouding his vision “how did you carry on after JT died and continued to raise me?”

“I didn’t shut family out baby” she whispered taking his hand on hers “I leant on the club, I know you are hurting baby but you actions are hurting that gorgeous little boy of yours. He asked me today if you always be this sad”

“I don’t know what to do Ma” Jax sighed.

“Take some time off, let Chibs lead the club for a bit and spend some time with your son” she smiled softly “he lost his momma too and needs his daddy so much. I know things may seem dark right now and like there is no way up but the one thing that got me through my grief was you. You was the strength I needed to carry on every day”

“Daddy” a little voice shouted.

“Sorry Gem” Rat sighed panting slightly.

“It’s okay” she nodded.

Harry climbed into Jax’s lap, snuggling into his chest.

“I’m sorry son” he sighed burrying in face into his sons blonde hair “I know I’ve not been a good daddy recently, in fact I’m sorry for a lot of things”

“Daddy I don’t want you to be sad” Harry said placing his tiny hand against Jax’s cheek.

“I know buddy” Jax whispered wrapping his arms around him.

The two of them just sat there not saying anything, Gemma was right, the only way he would start to try and mean his heart was from the love from the 4 year old snuggled into his chest.

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 07

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.5k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, swearing.

♤ A/N: Surprise! I'm really sorry it took me this long, but I finally found the time and drive to write again :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

06 07

"What do you mean this hybrid doesn't exist?"

Her eyes are wavering with an unspoken fear, perhaps caused by the bitterness my questions holds. I'm not happy, and she knows.

“It’s just, the chance that a dangerous breed such as the tiger hybrid would escape our system is basically zero..” The gaze she held on the computer screen unsurely moves my way. My expression must've instilled another layer of anxiety to the already existing one, as her mouth abruptly stops moving and her pupils dilate.

“Go on, explain.” The tone of my voice softens a bit as I notice her visible discomfort worsening. Even if there is no way that I’ll get any information from this place regarding Taehyung and his owner, I would still like to know why they’re both not showing up here.

Eun-ji takes a few deep breaths to stabilize her voice. As she does her posture slowly relaxes just a little and her eyes lose some of the nervousness they held before. “Because the first ‘successful’ tiger hybrid ran rampant after killing their creator, anyone who still breeds or creates them is being watched very closely by us, as well as by some other institutions.”

Perhaps it’s my lack of reaction that causes her to trail off at the end. Though I’m not judging her or her story, unlike she may think. To encourage her to continue, I give her a nod, tilting my head to show interest.

“The regular citizen isn’t even allowed to have one, needing special training to handle them. It’s like that for most hybrids that find their origins in wild animals. Creating tiger hybrids obviously requires a lot of knowledge when it comes to playing with genes and breeding them…. Well there are only three organization that are authorized to do so. All the resulting hybrids are registered and chipped.”

The explanation, which turns out to be a lengthy one, gets broken by a shuddering breath leaving her lips. She composes herself, clinging on to the little confidence she has left in her line of work to speak about the rest of her clarification.

“Of course people have tried to do it themselves, but those d.i.y operations have always ended in disappointment. If not taken proper care of, with substances only a board certified hybrid doctor can provide you, the pregnancy will fail. These are no easy practices they are dealing with.”

After the girls’ last words I give myself some time to think, letting a silence full of tension fill the room. It must be obvious that my mind is somewhere else at the moment, as the other girl in the room does her best to stay quiet. I don’t need much time however, my thoughts having quickly rearranged themselves as they were trained to do.

“So what you’re saying is, since tiger hybrids are hard to ‘create’, if you will, there are only a few people who actually manage to bring them to life. And so those few people are kept under close watch, as are the hybrids they successfully wake, am I correct?”

Eun-ji nods affirmatively, clearly happy that I seem to understand the situation. “So there is absolutely no way that someone without authorization has had a decent attempt at either genetically merging a human together with a tiger or getting a tiger hybrid pregnancy to be successful?”

Perhaps there might be a bit of scepticism in the question I asked, as her attitude immediately changes into a defensive one. “There is not! Whatever hybrid you’re searching for either gave you a false identity or is not a tiger hybrid at all, which would seem rather unlikely. I told you they get chipped right? Why not go look into that.”

“He doesn’t have one. We already had a hospital take a look at him, they didn’t find anything. ” The statement seems to shock her, the gears in her head instantly turning as to find an answer to this riddle. She however can’t seem to get one.

“They can be removed, can they not? They’re just under the skin. If someone decided to just cut it out they could. Terrifying, but plausible. Either that or one of your faithful authorized employees has been leaking information to outsiders.”

This is where Eun-ji seems to give up. Her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “There would still be the problem of the missing equipment, test subjects, practice… How would you even get hold of fertilized human eggs to play around with? But I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible. As for cutting it out… There would be a noticeable scar. The implants are always put in the same place, it wouldn’t be hard to miss.”

I make a mental note stating to ask Taehyung about all of this when I get back. If anyone knows how he got onto this world it would be him. “Is there a possibility that you could have someone look into it?” The girl nods in defeat, paying more attention to the ground than to anything else. “I’ll see if I can get someone on the case. I’ll have them contact you if we know anything.”

After those words she turns around in her chair, facing the monitor that had already put itself into sleep, and turns it off. Taking a notepad out of the drawer to her left, she quickly writes something down with the pen from her breast pocket. “I’ll get on it right away. Would you like me to walk you back to the exit?”

I shake my head. “No It’s okay, I’ll find my way back. Thank you for cooperating.” Eun-ji gives me a small smile, followed by a bow and walks out of the room taking the note with her, presumably immediately keeping herself busy with the extra work. Not wanting to waste any time I copy her, walking myself back into the direction we came from. Turns out it proves quite easy to find the exit by myself.

It’s already far past dinnertime when I make it back to the office. Not many of my colleagues have remained in their seats, most of them opting for a nice meal with their families. The few that have stayed behind are mostly known to live alone, quite like myself.

I quietly knock on my supervisor’s door, but when no response emerges from within the room, I can safely deduce that she too has already returned home. “I’ll have to write her a report about today later..” I mutter to myself, before stepping away from the door and instead heading to the cells at the back.

Technically the arrest period had already ended for Taehyung, as the law wouldn’t allow us to keep him locked up for any longer without any charges being held against him. His cell however technically was never locked and so even now, he is free to go wherever he wants. Though it didn’t change the fact that he still has no place to go to.

“Good evening. Had anything to eat yet?” He just chose to stay here and we accepted it. “Oh, hello! Yes, that tall handsome bulky man gave me something earlier, I can’t remember his name. He said something about it ‘being the best shit in town’.”

I slightly giggle at his quote, knowing immediately who it belongs to. “That definitely sounds like something Namjoon would say. What did he give you?”

Taehyung looks a lot better than he did yesterday. The stress of the interrogation seems to have completely worn off, instead traded for the sweet bouncy personality he used to show around me.

“Umm it was something in the shape of a circle and it had meat all over it… Oh! I think he called it a pizza? It was delicious!”

“You’ve never had pizza before?” The words leave my mouth before I actually get the chance to process them, causing me to instantly regret ever even opening my mouth. These days are stressful enough for him as they are, he doesn’t need a painful reminder of the life he never got to live on top of that.

The question doesn’t seem to hit him as hard as I though it would though. In fact, his demeanour doesn’t seem to change at all. Although sadly, it doesn’t make his next words any less painful. “Nope! When I first got adopted all they would feed me was wet cat food. It wasn’t great, but at least I got my three meals a day. The foster family I stayed at after my first owners mysteriously disappeared didn’t actually have the money to even take proper care of themselves, so at that time all I would get was whatever was left of their dinner that day, if there was even any left. It was mostly just greens. The lack of meat made me real sick at the time.”

He pauses talking for a second to look up at my face through the metal bars. The content look on his face quickly changes to one of worry once he catches my eyes. It’s no mystery why, I know I look at him pitifully. Even if he may not wish for my concern, I am only human. I can perfectly hide it when I need to, but this is not one of those cases.

“There it is again, that sad look on your face…” He sits up straight on the side of his bed to fully observe me, a tilt of his head giving him away. I send a sad chuckle his way as I reach for the door of his enclosure, inviting myself into the small space with him. He doesn’t object.

“Is it that obvious?” It was meant more as a way to lighten the mood, not as an actual question that needs answering. He still does however, giving me a simple slow nod. “You don’t need to feel bad for me.”

“Someone has to. You deserve at least that much.”

There’s a chair neatly placed under a small desk in the room. It used to be quite lively, with all kinds of bright colours blending into each other. It was a little positive additive into the dark grey room, but after all the anger that has been acted out on it, it no longer has that same shine.

I pull the chair out to place myself upon it, straddling the seat while I rest my arms on top of the back rest. Facing the tiger I use my arms as a pillow to lean my head on, making myself comfortable on the creaking furniture.

“Say, Taehyung, do you remember anything from when and where you were formed?”

He seems slightly taken aback at first, though quickly regains his composure. He also doesn’t immediately answer, first taking some time to think before coming back to me. “I was born a hybrid to two purebred tiger hybrids. They did their best trying to care for me in the little time we got to spend together, but seeing as it happened on a breeding farm getting to spend time with my parents wasn’t the plan. I got sold off pretty quickly, as soon as I learned to hold my first few full conversations.”

“Do you… Would you happen to know what happened to the farm? To your parents?” I fail to hide my apprehensiveness, needing too much space to form a careful approach. This shouldn’t feel like an interrogation to him, I never even announced one. There is little reason for him to answer me, the vital information from his side has already been given anyway. Nonetheless, even though I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now, I can’t just miss this opportunity.

“I heard my adoptive family talking about how the place was burnt down a while later. Most likely the police had caught a hold of it and they had to delete their left behind evidence. Both building and hybrids.”

Despite talking about the death of his parents, he seems to tell the story with relative ease. Probably not having much connection with the far past, his brain too young to truly hold on to the memory of them.

“They were successful too, as the case got dropped faster than lightning. It wasn’t long before the general public forgot about it too, believing it was just another misunderstanding. Besides, hybrid lives weren’t as important anyway.”

The amount of rights hybrids had when they were first created back in the day were close to zero, only strictly being seen as objects to show off whatever possible wealth one may have had. For a while there was even a popular theory going around that hybrids didn’t actually have the ability to feel any kind of emotion or pain. The genetic puzzle wouldn’t allow for it, as it had been tampered with to an extreme extent. This only built on the carelessness shown towards them, slowly chipping away at their sanity.

Although the rumours were wrong, they came from a place of truth. Facial expressions were rare for hybrids, as was the ability to speak. Most of them couldn’t even keep up with regular humans, exhaustion quickly taking over the little anger they could show. Scientists hadn’t yet quite figured out how to perfectly combine the pieces of genetic code and so hybrids were more like living dolls in the eyes of evil humans. Having no voice to object and barely any means to actually hurt anyone, it wasn’t much of a surprise the selfish nature in humans came to rise.

Luckily, or depending on how you look at it, sadly, these first generation hybrids were never able to reproduce. The doll like hybrid features eventually died out with the rise of the newly perfected pieces and the theory was debunked by a group of scientist who actually did care about the hybrids’ wellbeing. Those hybrids had lived through countless punishments, and every single one of them had hurt. A lot.

Right now hybrids in a lot of ways are superior to the rest of us. Having the combined senses of both animal and human alike, society has reluctantly given up on trying to contain them. They are still to be bought and owned, but no longer to be treated like dirt. The smartest of hybrids have even already gotten complete freedom to do as the please, no longer having to be bound to a human to roam freely. However, those unable to pass the close to impossible tests aren’t so lucky.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Taehyung gives me a reassuring wave of his hand, effectively trying to lighten the mood, along with a sad smile. It wouldn’t take a trained professional to know he still longs for his parent’s presence, even if he may do well hiding it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

That doesn’t make the situation more okay, but I hold my remarks back. For now, that might just be for the best.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @the8luvr @deathkat657 @elenaramos1 @namjoonies-dimple

[monicashipsnickyjoe]

(part 4 of my advertising agency office au. check out part 1/2/3)

At the end of the day, Nicky tries to think of ways to more properly thank Joe for saving his bank account and, probably, his job. A handshake, perhaps? No, that’s not enough, and after the jacket incident, it would feel too formal. Perhaps an email? A curt nod?

Ug! He buries his fingers in his hair. Why is he so bad at this?

On a poster on the wall of his cubicle, the kitten clings to that tree branch. Hang in there! If the kitten can do it, then surely he can -

A card! Decided, he turns back to his computer. He could try to make one by hand, but he lacks any artistic talent. The best he can do is adjust the word processor to print out a few clip-art designs in a way he can fold into a card. Nicky has to buy his own ink for the printer beneath his desk, but he doesn’t mind using it for this. He only wishes he splurged and bought color ink instead of only black.

After carefully folding the thin computer paper into a slightly lopsided, card-like shape, he fills in the boxy THANK YOU on the front with pink, yellow, and blue highlighters. Inside, beneath a smiley face, he writes his name: Nicolò.

Around him, his co-workers begin to leave. The clock on his monitor tells him it’s already ten after 5. Nicky grabs his card and his jacket and leaves his cubicle. Like wading upstream, he dodges his exiting co-workers, all headed the opposite way, as he makes his way past the water cooler and toward the offices.

He glares at the copier as he steps around it, and knocks his knuckles on the door frame to Joe’s office.

Joe’s three monitors are on, two paused on different sections of what appears to be a commercial-in-progress. The third shows his email inbox. Joe is looking at none of them. Instead, he’s swiveled in his desk chair to the barren section of his L-shaped desk. He sketches something in a notebook. Under his desk, he’s kicked off his shoes.

At Nicky’s knock, he looks up, and those heavy bags under his eyes have only darkened since this morning, he visibly brightens when Nicky steps into the room.

“Have you been home since yesterday?” Nicky asks.

Joe glances to the side, like he’s thinking of a lie, but he quickly sighs and says, “I went home for a shower about 4 this morning.”

“Have you eaten?”

Joe waves to the take-out containers Nicky now sees wedged behind his monitors. There’s several days worth.

“You should go home,” Nicky says. “You’ll get sick like this.”

Joe shrugs. “It’s only until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” That doesn’t make sense. Nicky has seen the forecasted earnings for the next month, coupled with the designer-client meeting schedules. He knows Joe’s meeting with the Pharmaceutical company isn’t until next week. And even if Merrick convinced Joe to move it forward, tomorrow is impossibly soon.

“Honestly, I thought I’d get far enough ahead last night to give me a break tonight but... things change.” He smiles up at Nicky, but it doesn’t hold.

Things change. What could have changed from yesterday to today?

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Joe,” Nicky storms further into the room, coming right up to the edge of Joe’s desk. “Tell me you didn’t move up the schedule because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Joe says, but his eyes are soft and sad. He’s lying.

“Joe.” Nicky clutches his pathetic card in both hands. It’s not enough. Not near enough.

“What Merrick wanted to do to you was wrong. If I could fix it by putting in another all-nighter, what does it matter?” He holds Nicky’s gaze, and that at least, is earnest. Which only makes Nicky feel worse.

“But, Joe -”

“I did what I had to do, Nicky, and I’d do it again.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

Joe laughs a little, under his breath. “I will always stay true to my heart.”

Nicky’s not sure what he means, so he doesn’t know how to argue. He looks down at his card. At the very least, he could have more carefully colored the letters inside the lines. Yet somehow, he knows Joe will still love it.

It’s not enough.

“What are you having to eat tonight?” Nicky asks.

Frowning, Joe waves to take-out containers again.

Nicky’s stomach flips. “No,” he says, before he even realizes he’s spoken. When Joe blinks at him, Nicky trudges onward. “Do not eat that. I will bring you dinner.”

Joe leans back in his chair. Those dark bags are barely visible now, with how bright his eyes are, like he just woke up to Christmas morning.

“Wait for me,” Nicky says, and all but throws his silly card at Joe.

Joe catches it with both hands. Nicky turns and leaves before he can see him read it.

*

Nicky, fortunately, has stew cooking in a crock pot since before work. He woke up early, restless from having heard Joe call his name in his sleep. To distract himself, he sliced carrots and potatoes and beef. He paced the length of his small kitchen, worrying over spices, trying not to think of Joe.

So, after rushing back to his apartment, he doesn’t have to worry about making anything new. He cooked enough for several days of leftovers, but he packs it all up now into five different containers, and puts them into an insulated thermal bag. He also throws in some napkins, two forks and a spoon, not knowing Joe’s preference. He grabs some waters from the fridge, a bag of fresh rolls from his pantry, and hurries out the door.

Back at the office, Joe has tacked Nicky’s ridiculous card onto the wall. He’s smiling at it when Nicky steps through the doorway.

“You’re back.” Joe turns that smile on Nicky, and Nicky trips a little on the carpet.

“I hope you like stew,” Nicky says, dropping his gaze to his feet so he can make it safety across the room.

“I love it.”

“Good. I brought you enough for several days.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Joe says.

Nicky opens the thermal bag. He pulls out one container and places it before Joe. He sets a second one beside it, for himself. He removes the napkins and the silverware, and sets the rest aside.

“Take my chair,” Joe tells him, standing. He slides it over before Nicky can refuse, then goes to retrieve a metal fold-out from against the wall.

“Joe -”

“Just sit, Nicky. You went to all this trouble.” Joe arranges the fold-out and sits. “I’ll be in that chair all night. It’s good to spice things up.”

Nicky could hardly see how sitting in a metal chair would ‘spice things up’ but he decides not to argue.

They remove the lids and dig into the food. At the first bite, Nicky’s pleased the stew is still hot. All thoughts fizzle, however, at the sound of Joe moaning delightedly.

Joe’s eyes flutter closed. After he swallows, he laughs. “Nicky, you have spoiled me. This is delicious! You must tell me which restaurant you bought this from. I will never eat anywhere else.”

Nicky’s face burns so hot, he might catch fire. “I made it.”

Joe’s gaze snaps to him. “You...?“ Surprise makes way to something else, something warmer, and for a moment, Nicky suspects Joe might hug him. Or maybe he just wants him to.

“Nicky,” Joe says. “I am convinced you are an angel.”

Nicky shakes his head. “If I was an angel, I wouldn’t have broken the copier.”

Joe grunts, like he doesn’t agree, but rather than argue, he returns to the stew.

They eat for a time, before Nicky wonders aloud.

“You surprised me, the other day,” Nicky says. “When you knew my name.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Joe lowers his spoon. “You were introduced on your first day.”

Nicky remembers Merrick waving toward him unceremoniously as he stood by the water cooler on his first day. People stood in their cubicles and sat down immediately after. He hadn’t noticed anyone step out of the offices.

“That was a year ago,” Nicky says.

“I would never forget you.” Joe scoops fresh stew onto his spoon and brings it to his mouth.

“But you never...” Nicky has no idea how to handle this new information. “We never...” He motions his fork between the two of them.

Joe lowers his chin, sheepish. “I thought of how to approach you a thousand times. But you are so...”

Oh. Nicky frowns. “Quiet.”

“No!” Joe leans forward. “Beautiful! That’s what I was going to say.”

Nicky blinks, too stunned to speak.

“I wanted to impress you, but I didn’t know how. I even tried to learn Italian, though work has been so... it’s been difficult to find time to do anything else.” Shaking his head, he sits back in the chair again. He lifts his spoon. “I’ve only learned a few words so far, but I will learn more. I’m determined.” Joe speaks with such confidence, Nicky believes him.

“Joe.” Nicky tries to find his voice. It feels important, to reply.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” Nicky says. “The opposite.”

“Oh?”

Nicky swallows his nerves, takes a breath. “Joe, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met.”

Joe’s cheeks tint red. His eyes sparkle, or maybe it’s the overhead light reflecting just right. What does it matter, with how lovely he looks when his lips part and he whispers, “Nicolò.“

If Nicky stays, he will kiss him, and if he kisses him, he will not stop. “I should leave you to your work.” Before hurt can settle on Joe’s face, Nicky reaches out and places his hand on Joe’s arm near the wrist. His thumb circles the fragile bones there. “The sooner you are finished, the sooner you can leave.”

Joe’s smile returns, a touch more devilish than before. “And then?”

Joe’s skin is warm under Nicky’s hand. All Nicky would have to do is lean a little closer and he could... They could...

He starts to. So does Joe.

But then Nicky snaps back, remembering, and makes himself pull away. He stands and moves around the chair, placing it between them. Yet even with the distance, the air sparks between them.

Nicky gives Joe a look. “And then.”

Whatever Joe sees in his face has Joe popping out of his chair. “Nicky, stay.”

“You’ll never finish your work.”

“To hell with it.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do, and I...” He stops himself and sighs. “No. When my lips touch yours for the first time, it will not be in this place.”

The thrill of a kiss rushes up Nicky’s spine, and he shivers. “When this is done...” He sucks in a breath, steadying himself. “When this is done, we will meet, and then...”

Joe licks his lips. “And then.”

[starkerscoop]

Vacant Mind (Ch. 1)

Tag List: @thatrandomsomnia @longlivestarker @geen-beems @consciencecoward @aoifelaufeyson @rebel13lion39 @katzenbaby1  @helaisthequeen @im-a-goner-foryou @hornvey @darker-soft-starker  @nerdylocksandthethreebears @canreadbutcannotwrite @carelessannie @bluestarker @briesb1tch @skimparker @idiyeet @blushing-starker-queen @buckettbarnes

Let me know if you want to be removed from the tag list, or added to it. The first three chapters of this fic are being reuploaded from my old blog, so that everyone can access them from this one. If you don’t want to be tagged for the first three chapters, but do want to be tagged for the remaining ones, let me know. 

Let the “didn’t know they were dating” fic commence... again

- 

Peter trudged through the streets, biting back a groan whenever the bustling passerby would bump into him. He felt hot, unnaturally so, and the sweat plastering his hair to the nape of his neck did nothing to cool him down. He wondered dimly when it had gotten so warm. The snow at his feet clung to his shoes, reminding him of the chill he was meant to be feeling, but he only felt uncomfortable in his jacket.

He shrugged it off, allowing the cold air to encompass his heated body. He stuffed the jacket into his backpack as he walked, and caught sight of the Spider-Man suit nestled at the bottom of the bag. Any excitement he might have had at the prospect of patrolling was replaced by dread. He was too tired to patrol, but saving lives was a job he took seriously, and so he ducked into an alley and donned his suit.

Karen switched on the heater in his suit the moment he put it on, and Peter barely restrained his complaints. Karen was programmed to keep the heater on in temperatures below 55℉, and had been ever since Tony found out that Peter couldn’t thermoregulate. If he switched it off, Karen would notify Tony, who would then badger him until he confessed that he wasn’t feeling well.

It was a protocol that Peter had thought was sweet when it was first installed. It made him feel like Tony cared about him beyond making sure he didn’t die in battle. Now, it was a thorn in his side.

Peter could only endure the additional warmth for two hours. In that time, he stopped a robbery, helped a man find his dropped hearing aid, and returned a lost dog to its crying owner.

By the time he arrived home and pulled off the suit, his body was slick all over with sweat, and his cheeks were flushed with a deeper red than he’d ever seen. He staggered over to his shower, pushing aside the curtain and falling in. He groped around the shower blindly until his hands caught the knob, which he twisted desperately until cold water started running down his face. He grasped the wall and stumbled to his feet, swaying in place as he let the water rinse off his sweat.

His head felt faint, and as his eyes roved over the stall in search of his shampoo, his vision started filling with black spots. Peter reached for his shampoo bottle once he found it, but lost his balance and fell towards it. His head smacked into the wall, and he was out like a light.

-

A hand combed through his hair, gently tugging and undoing the knots in it. Peter leaned into the comforting touch, an entirely different warmth to the one he’d been suffering from earlier filling his chest. The hand paused its ministrations, but didn’t pull away.

“Are you waking up?” a hushed voice murmured by his ear.

Peter struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, refusing to do anything other than twitch, and so he stared into darkness as the hand in his hair resumed its motion. He relaxed into the bed, giving up for the moment. He let himself drift in the darkness, the hand on his head his only tether to reality.

“It’s alright,” the same voice sighed fondly. “You do like your beauty sleep. Don’t worry, Pete. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Peter let himself slip away further at the assurance. He felt safe in the presence of that voice, warm and loving as it was.

The darkness wasn’t all that frightening now.

-

The steady beeping of the machine at Peter’s side roused him from his sleep. He shuffled in place a little as he craned his neck to the left, where he was met with a heart monitor that sounded in time with his heart. He swallowed thickly, wondering how he’d landed himself in the Med-Bay again.

“How are you feeling?”

Peter jumped in surprise, his head swivelling to the other side, where Tony was perched on a chair and watching him earnestly.

“I’m okay,” Peter took a moment to survey himself. “I have a small headache, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Tony said, before his expression hardened. “Now, what were you thinking when you decided to patrol with a fever of 104 degrees?”

Peter groaned. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You fell and hit your head in the shower,” Tony stressed. “What if you’d fallen while swinging? I doubt you’d have gotten away with only a headache if you fell thirty stories.”

Peter’s lips turned downward when he noticed the fear hidden behind the anger in Tony’s expression. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Tony didn’t deny his fear, though he didn’t acknowledge it, either. “I’ll be adding more protocols to your suit. This isn’t happening again.”

Peter didn’t argue.

Tony’s shoulders lost some of their tension. “Are you hungry? I had someone restock the Jell-O.”

“Do you have red?” Peter’s face lit up.

Tony reached into the pockets of his slacks and brought out two cups of red Jell-O. He handed both to Peter, before setting a plastic spoon on top of them. Peter thanked him before peeling off the wrapper on one of the cups, and dunking his spoon into it. He scooped out a spoonful of the strawberry jelly and stuffed it into his mouth, paying no mind to the thin trail of it that trickled down his chin.

Tony swiped his thumb along Peter’s chin, clearing it of the jelly before sucking it into his own mouth. Peter dropped his spoon into his cup, watching with wide eyes until Tony pulled his thumb out of his mouth and cleaned it with a napkin.

“I’ll get someone to check you out and see if you can be discharged,” Tony patted his thigh as he stood. “Stay put, sweetheart.”

Peter’s jelly lay forgotten once Tony left. He had called him sweetheart. Just yesterday, Peter was trying to get him to drop the ‘kid’ moniker, and now he’d been upgraded to ‘sweetheart’? What had changed in the span of twenty-four hours?

When Tony came back, he was followed into the room by Dr. Althea Roberts, whom Peter was more than familiar with. Dr. Roberts treated him every time he ended up in the Med-Bay, and with how often he got injured, he got to know her well. Their friendship and Dr. Roberts’ talent in the medical field made her his favorite doctor.

“Mr. Parker,” she shook her head sternly. “What you pulled yesterday could’ve gotten you killed.”

“Yesterday?” Peter’s brows knitted together.

“You woke up a few times, but for the most part, you slept for a day,” Tony explained, taking a few steps back towards the door. “I’ll give you your privacy.”

Tony was leaving the room before Peter could tell him that he didn’t mind him hearing his conversation with Dr. Roberts. Still, he appreciated the space. Tony’s worry tended to morph into nosiness, the need to know everything wrong with his friends and rectify it driving him to budge his way into places he didn’t need to be in. Peter was glad to see him working on that — it was a byproduct of his anxiety, and one that Tony himself didn’t like.

Dr. Roberts started speaking as soon as the door swung closed. “You had a high fever. When you went to shower, you hit your head and got a concussion. If your head hurts, or you’re feeling confused, that’s normal and it will stop soon. You might experience some memory loss, but it shouldn’t be anything extreme. Any memories you might have lost will come back.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded to show he understood. “How did you find me in the shower? I was alone.”

“According to Mr. Stark, a friend of yours stopped by and found you in the shower. He called Mr. Stark, who brought you here to be treated.”

Dr. Roberts asked him some preliminary questions before giving him approval for a discharge. Once she finished speaking with him, she had a nurse come in and unhook him from all of the machines surrounding his bed. The nurse brought him the spare clothes he kept in the Med-Bay for when he’d inevitably need them, and he swapped his hospital gown for them. When he finished getting dressed, he exited the room he’d been staying in, and found Tony standing in the hallway with his phone in hand.

Tony slipped his phone into his pocket. “We can go now?”

“Yes,” Peter wrung his hands shyly. “Thank you for staying with me. You didn’t have to.”

A grim look settled over Tony’s face. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I am okay, if that helps,” Peter offered.

Tony wrapped an arm over his shoulders, tugging him into his side as he led him to the reception counter he’d be discharged at. Peter tried not to sink into the touch, wanting to avoid giving away how much it pleased him to be so close to Tony, but he couldn’t help curling just a little bit closer.  

“It does.”

[spidernerdsblog]

🎄First Times🎄

A/N : This is an extra for my first ever series I Forgot That You Existed. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing :  Dad! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : Your and Tom's first Christmas with your baby girl.

Warnings : fluff

There's something about first times. The first time riding a bicycle, first love, going on your first date, first kiss. There's an unknown excitement in it, a thrill, a feeling of adventure. Those first times will always be special. Just like your first Christmas with your baby girl. 

After 3 years of marriage you and Tom are proud parents of your one and only daughter Vienna. She was the apple of your eye after all she's your first born. The first time you got to know that you were pregnant was during one of your recording sessions when you suddenly felt nauseous and had to run to the bathroom to throw up. You knew this wasn't mere food poisoning from your past experience and to be honest you and Tom had been trying for a baby for quite some time after you finally decided that you are ready to embrace motherhood again. 

You were rather thrilled than scared this time while you took the test and seeing the two pink lines made your heart swell as a few tears of joy slipped your eyes. When Tom returned home you just ran into his arms to reveal the news that you were expecting and joy knew no bounds for him. He immediately lifted you up and spinned you around in the living room in excitement. 

The first time you went for your check up and saw your baby girl on the monitor Tom was literally sobbing. You were being very careful this time. During the last trimester Tom didn't want to leave your side at all. You had to literally throw him out of the house (pun intended) to go for his shoots. 

You couldn't believe how time flew so fast that the little human you both brought to this earth is almost a year old now. It felt like yesterday you brought her from the hospital wrapped in a blanket in your arms and now she crawls around the house as well as has learnt to stand on her little feet. You never get tired of listening to her continuous babbles with some broken words she has learnt eventually. 

And not to be surprised her first word was obviously ‘Dada’ ofcourse she was daddy's girl because the way Tom has spoiled her rotten since the day she was born you really are gonna have a hard time in future saying no to her and hearing that Tom went on a shopping spree that day, if he could he would have bought the whole toy shop you thought. 

Christmas was around the corner and everyone was in their festive mood. You were in the kitchen baking cookies when your husband came down the stairs hastily. 

"Honey where is my Christmas jumper?" he asks from across the living room. 

"Tom, what is your obsession with that old jumper? Now even the jumper also says let me go Thomas." You joke from the kitchen. Tom huffs rolling his eyes. 

"That jumper carries a lot of sentimental value for me. C'mon now tell me where is it?" he whines. 

"It's in the left bottom shelf of the cupboard." You yell from the kitchen. 

"I already looked there."

"Then look hard it's there only." Sometimes you really feel that you are actually looking after two babies.

Tom ran upstairs again to your bedroom where your 12 months old daughter was sleeping peacefully. He searched through the cupboard and finally found his jumper but the noise he made while doing it woke Vienna up. Tom turned to see his little princess sitting up on the bed with sleepy eyes. 

"Oh did I wake you up bubs? So sorry peanut. Daddy was looking for his jumper." He went and sat beside her on the bed. She instantly got up on his lap, her little hands clutching onto his t-shirt as support and standing up. Tom forgot about everything and began playing with her, her little giggles making his heart melt. After a while she started to get a little fussy and Tom knew that his baby girl was hungry. 

"I know baby it's time for you to have some brekkie, let's see what mommy is doing eh." 

"Look who’s up." Tom announces cheerfully walking down the stairs. You turned around and your face instantly lit up seeing your morning sunshine resting her head on her daddy's shoulder suckling her thumb. 

"Aww you are up my little pumpkin wait a moment mommy is almost done" Tom strolled around the house with her. He went and stood near the glass doors overlooking his snow covered lawn. 

"Look at that peanut, it's snowing isn't it beautiful." He cooed, rocking her gently in his arms making her giggle. Tom was about to slide the door open to the lawn to take her out. 

"Tom it's freezing outside, V isn't wearing enough warm clothes. She will catch a cold" You stopped him. 

"Your mommy is way too paranoid." Tom says rolling his eyes dramatically looking at your daughter.

"I can hear you." You say in a sing-song manner from the kitchen. Tom makes his way to you in the kitchen. 

"Here I can do the rest of the batch" he offers, taking the tray from your hand."My little princess needs to be fed first." He says and you take Vienna from his arms. Tom continued with preparing the rest of the batch of cookies as you fed your daughter. 

Later in the evening you were busy decorating the christmas tree with Tom when you noticed Vienna playing and tugging on to some wires. You panicked out of your motherly instinct.

"Baby no don't touch it, you'll get hurt." You came rushing, taking away the lights from her small hands. She stared at you with her doe eyes for a while before crawling away to get the other decorating stuff from the box.

"God, she's such an active baby, never sits in one place." You shake your head smiling. 

"Well she's my daughter." Tom says proudly.

"Okay Billy Elliot, now go and put Billy Elliot Jr in the crib or else she will not let us set up the tree." Tom did as you said as he placed Vienna in the crib when your attention went to the lights you were holding in your hands and you frowned.

"Tom, why did you bring the bigger lights?" 

"Why what's the problem with the big one?" He asks casually.

"Tom the big ones are for the lawn and the small ones are for the tree. It has always been like that." you state in disappointment.

"For a change let's put the big ones on the tree this year." He suggests.

"No way! it will look odd." you say annoyed. 

"Gosh you're such a control freak." he huffs. 

"No I'm not, it's just my tastes are better than yours." You retort. Soon you both began arguing and seeing the tension between her parents Vienna started crying. Both of you stopped arguing as your full attention turned to your one year old and you both felt guilty of arguing in front of her.

"Aww baby did we scare you? We are so sorry honey." You rushed to her picking her in your arms, rocking her gently pacifying her. She stopped crying after sometime. You sat down on the couch with Tom beside you.

"We shouldn’t have fought like that on such a petty issue I’m sorry I over reacted." You felt sorry.

"No it’s my fault that I messed up the lights, I’m sorry Y/N" Tom apologises

"Hey it’s ok we can put the big ones this year." Tom and you leaned in for a reconciliation kiss but was interrupted by your little munchkin’s hand as if she didn’t want you to kiss Tom.

"Someone seems to be a little possessive." You pout scrunching your nose.

"Well what can I say my little girl loves her dad more, isn’t it princess?" He boops her nose gently to which she giggles.

"Don’t flatter yourself mister." you snicker.

"Aww don’t get disheartened, love." you slap his chest playfully.

"Shut up and do the rest of the decoration I need to put her to sleep, it’s almost her nap time." 

"Okay mam." You took Vienna with you to the bedroom to put her to sleep while Tom carried on with the rest of the decorations. After finishing he went upstairs to call you for watching a movie together.

"Hey Y/N" Tom popped his head through the door.

"Shh!" You hush him immediately. "She just fell asleep". You whisper.

"Sorry." He mouths. I have set up everything. He whispers.

"Okay I’ll be down in a minute." You whisper back. You went down to the living room to find two cups of tea and snacks kept on the coffee table while Tom was lounging on the couch busy choosing a christmas movie to watch for tonight. You went and sat on the couch snuggling close to him resting your head on his broad chest, he smiled wrapping his arm around you. Even though you were totally enjoying parenthood, you also cherished these alone times with your husband. Just two of you cuddled close into each other’s warm embrace. The intimacy of the moment is so soothing and relaxing after a long day. You wondered what you did to get this perfect man as your husband with whom you brought an angel in your lives. You felt you have everything you could have asked for and you are grateful. Tom noticed you lost in deep thought.

"What’s going on in this little mind?" He taps on your head lightly.

"Just can't imagine she's already one. Soon she will go to school then college and a few years later she might bring a boy for the Christmas Dinner to meet with us and then get married and have her own children" you went on as Tom perked up.

"Woah woah slow down, love. You are going way too fast forward. And moreover she isn't dating until she turns 30." He says like a protective father, you let out an airy laugh.

"Look now who's been paranoid huh?" you raise a sly brow.

"Well you know there’s a lot of no good sons of bit.." 

"Uh uh language." You interrupt.

"Sons of butterflies out there." He corrected his dialogue as you both chuckle softly turning your attention back to the movie playing in front of you. 

........................................................

Taglist in bio.

[harryhandstan]

a styles family christmas

I’m sorry this is late and shorter than I wanted but I couldn’t let the year end without a little holiday celebration from my favorite family! Linking the other parts of the series below so you can re-visit them if you choose but please don’t feel like you have to. Enjoy!

Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​, @bfharry​, and @iconicharry​ for the encouragement to finish this!! also miss zoey @milfzaynmalik is to thank for the super fluffy ending thank you love!

I Want Your Belly - Wonderful and Warm - Washed Away in You - Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

word count: 3.1k

writing tag | masterlist

The crackle of Sterling’s whimpers filtering through the baby monitor wakes you. You’re slipping your feet into your slippers before you realize that Harry’s side of the bed is empty, his voice joining the growing distress of your son.

“S’all this about, bub? Too early to be makin’ so much noise, son.”

You can tell even through the speaker of the monitor that Harry’s still half asleep. Sterling’s cries become slightly muffled, you’re sure by Harry holding his son to his chest now to try to soothe him.

“Let’s see if daddy can figure out what’s wrong before we have to wake mumma, hmm?”

By the time you make it down the hall to Sterling’s room, Harry’s already got him changed and mostly re-dressed in his Christmas pajamas, delicately trapping one of Sterling’s feet to put the red sock back on his foot that probably came loose while Harry was changing him. Your son was much like their father, never one to stay still for long.

“Getting pretty good at this dad thing, H. That may be a new diaper changing record for you.”

Harry flashes you a sleepy smile, placing kisses on each of Sterling’s cheeks as he coos happily up at the two of you.

“Look what you did, bub. Told ya y’were being too loud,” He drums his fingers along Sterling’s tummy before bending to kiss your cheek the same sweet way he did his son’s, “Sorry, love. Meant to turn the monitor off so we wouldn’t wake you.”

“It’s okay, it’s time for him to eat again so the alarm would’ve woken me anyway.”

He helps you get everything set up to nurse, gently gripping your shoulders before kissing your cheek again, “You feed bubs, I’ll go make coffee and breakfast.”

You nod an agreement and he’s already made it out the door, preparing to make his way down the stairs before the statement registers in your brain, “Wait what? Why? Harry..it’s 4 a.m.”

He pokes his head back around the doorway, “S’Christmas morning. Don’t you want coffee before we do presents?”

You sigh, keeping your grip tight on Sterling as you let your head fall back to rest against the chair.

“Harry, I promise I will love and appreciate anything you got me just as much, if not more, when I’ve had a little more sleep.”

“Who says all the presents under the tree are for you, princess. Some of them are for Sterling and you and I both know it takes at least an hour to settle him back down after an early feeding so..thought we’d do Christmas early while he’s more alert.”

“What do you mean some..we only got him one thing. We agreed we wouldn’t go overboard with his first Christmas since he’s so young, remember?”

“I remember it as more of a suggestion than an agreement, really.”

The grin that spreads across his face tells you all you need to know. He definitely went overboard to spoil you both and your eyes grow misty with tears at what you’ll see when you venture downstairs later.

“I know how grumpy you get when you don’t get enough sleep though, so if y’really wanna wait til’ later..”

“We can do it now,” You interrupt, “But I just don’t want you to be disappointed when you don’t get a big reaction from Sterling, alright? You have to remember he’s only 7 weeks old.”

His face lights up, child-like wonder written across his features. He crosses the room quickly to smack you with another kiss, to the top of your head this time, “Meet you downstairs in a bit!”

You giggle at the way his feet shuffle almost too quickly back across the carpet and he trips over his own feet, catching himself and assuring you he’s fine before continuing down the stairs.

It’s only 20 minutes after that you join him in the kitchen, but you can tell he’s used every second of it to stay busy. There’s a plate of food already waiting for you and he offers you a mug of coffee, letting you transfer Sterling to his shoulder so he can burp him while you enjoy your breakfast.

“You didn’t make anything for yourself?”

“M’too excited to eat,” He shakes his head, “I’ll have something after.”

“Alright then, if you can wait then so can I,” You put your fork down, taking a long sip of your coffee before setting the mug back on the table. You offer him your hand, and for a second you think he may refuse, urge you to sit back down and enjoy your meal first. He doesn’t though, the buzz of elation at you seeing what he got for you overrides any other emotion and he grips your hand tightly in his, squeezing once before letting you pull him into the living room.

The only light provided in the room comes from the glow of the lights on your tree. They perfectly illuminate the shock on your face at the sight of how many presents have joined the pile since the night before.

“Harry, how did you have time to do all this? You’ve been busy or with us in all your off time lately.”

“Shh..they aren’t all from me,” He’s sitting on the floor in front of the tree, and he pats the spot next to him, inviting you to join him. He looks down at where Sterling sits in his lap when he says, “Had some help from Santa.”

That earns him a big smile from his son, who can’t take his bright eyes off of Harry. They drift to you for a second when you plop yourself next to the two of them.

“Seriously..I know you had help cause there’s no way you wrapped all these yourself.”

He covers Sterling’s ears, rolling his eyes at your slight insult, “Fine. If you must know, Auntie Sham helped me. I had them all sent to her and she wrapped them for me. I picked them up from her before I came home yesterday and snuck them in from the car after you fell asleep.”

“Sham? My best friend Sham? I just talked to her last night and she didn’t mention any of this to me!”

“‘Course she didn’t. Made her promise she wouldn’t tell. You’re too nosy for me to hide them here, too smart too. You would’ve figured it out a month ago if I hadn't asked Sham to help.”

“A month? The two of you have been scheming against me for a whole month?” He dodges the playful swat you attempt to throw his way, catches your arm instead to settle it against his chest. He uses it as leverage to pull you closer to his face, a firm kiss pressed to your lips. You melt against him, any irritation that may have been building fading away. You make a mental note to shoot Sham a text later to thank her.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he reaches with the arm that isn’t clutching tight to Sterling to grab a small box wrapped with simple red paper, adorned with green ribbon and a bow. This one is more messily wrapped than the others, and if you had to guess, Harry did it himself.

“Baby gets the first present.” He holds the box close to Sterling’s little hands. He has been grabbing at things more lately, discovering his hands and learning to use them. Thankfully they hadn’t quite learned to grip too tightly yet, since they mostly ended up in yours or Harry’s hair when either of you held him.

He tosses a matching box over to you and you catch it. You watch Sterling closely, see his sweet hands as they wrap around the box Harry offered him.

“Harry? Remember what I said earlier about Sterling being 7 weeks old so that present is most likely about to..end up in his mouth.” You chuckle as you watch that exact thing happen and Harry scrambling to move the box away from his son’s mouth, leaning in to ensure none of the paper got left behind. He breathes a sigh of relief when he inspects the package and finds that everything's still intact, maybe just a bit more wet than before.

“Let daddy help you, bub,” He nods to the one in your hands, “Open up, babe.”

You do, tearing away the paper and waiting for Harry to open the one for Sterling. You pull the top off the white box, revealing a bracelet made from the same beads as Harry’s teal Eliou necklace he owns. You look up to see a much smaller version being slipped onto Sterling’s wrist.

“I seeing you eyein’ my necklace when I wear it, but I also know you prefer bracelets so I had the designer make a set for you and bubs, so we can all match.”

“Oh, Harry, I love it so much! It really is gorgeous, thank you!” You turn your wrist around to get the full view of it fitting perfectly against your skin. You wipe a few tears when they escape from your eyes before exclaiming, “Okay! Your turn!”

You pass him an envelope labeled with his name and he raises his eyebrows at you as he takes it.

“Starting out a little small, are we?”

You shrug, “Depends on your definition of small.”

He’s gently pulling at the opening and before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “Just open it!”

“I am! I am! Just didn’t want to rip the card inside.” He works faster now, fingers tugging the edge of the card out and gasping when the airplane ticket falls out and lands in front of him.

“Is this what I think it is?” He snatches the piece of paper up, eyes scanning frantically over the words to find the destination, “How did you know when to schedule it for?”

“I know how homesick you’ve been lately, and how much you wanted more of your family to be able to meet Sterling so I thought we’d go to them instead of the other way around. Jeff helped me, said next week would be best. If you don’t want to do it then though we can..”

“No, this is perfect, except..”

“Except?”

“I also talked to Jeff about taking some time off to visit family. Yours instead of mine though. I see now why he had next week blocked off.”

“Wait..is that why my mom said ‘see you soon’ when we FaceTimed her last week? Did she know already?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t mind havin’ us around for a week or so.”

He reads over his ticket again, laughing when he sees the end date of the trip you scheduled, “We’re gonna have a busy two weeks.”

“Great minds think alike, I guess.”

His hand reaches the short distance to cup your jaw, thumb swiping away more happy tears that have spilled at the idea of getting to show off Sterling to yours and Harry’s family. He smiles proudly down at Sterling before returning his gaze back to you.

“Yeah, guess they do.”

You both work through opening the rest of the presents labeled for Sterling as fast as you can, knowing it won’t be long before he’s ready for his mid-morning nap. You both make goofy faces and silly noises to keep Sterling engaged with each of the gifts you tear open for him. You can see him fading though, eyes trying to slip closed between each gift.

“I know there’s only a few more left, but I think we should save them for later, H. He’s getting tired.”

“Guess I did go a little overboard, huh?”

“No, Harry, everything is perfect, really. You did amazing.”

“I’ll take him back up to his bed, get him settled.”

“I’ll do it,” You’re already up, gently lifting him from Harry’s arms, “I’ll come back down and we can open the rest of ours together while he naps.”

“Or we could nap while he does..isn’t that what they say? Sleep when the baby sleeps?”

“That’s what we’ve been told, yeah. Never really works out for us though, does it?”

There’s always too much to be done in between; anything from a sink full of dishes to be washed or a few loads of laundry to be done. It was a nice idea though, and when Harry is able to be home he’s helping with as much of it as he can, urging you to do the resting instead.

He shakes his head, “No, it doesn’t but..s’Christmas. There’s no rush today, right? We can just..relax.”

You shoot him a look and you both fall into a fit of giggles, knowing there’s no such thing now that you have Sterling. Not that he was a particularly fussy or difficult baby, but he was just that..a baby that took up all your time and attention and didn’t care what day it may be or how tired his parents were.

“No harm in trying.” You shrug, keeping a tight hold on the mostly asleep babe resting on your shoulder as you make your way up the stairs, Harry following close behind, ready to catch you if your clumsy feet were to trip on the way up.

“Tryin’? Guarantee y’ll be snoring by the time your head hits your pillow in about 5 minutes.”

You don’t even have the energy to playfully scold him for his teasing, a yawn stretching across your face only confirming his theory. You’ve made it back to the doorway of Sterling’s room and you turn back to face Harry, a dreamy smile working it’s way across your lips. He clears the space still standing between the two of you easily, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a hug.

Harry’s careful not to squeeze too tight, to add the right amount of pressure in the embrace so you know how much he loves and appreciates you. You’re the one who deepens it, still keeping a firm hold to your son but pressing yourself as close as possible to his chest. His hand rests on the small of your back as he reaches around you to turn the doorknob to guide you through the doorway. In his haste to help, he’s pushed the door more roughly than he intended. The creak of the door startles Sterling, and you both wince at what you know is coming; your son’s cry rings loud through his room, breaking the silence you had already adjusted to. You do your best to pacify him, pacing a few times, shushing and rubbing his back in an attempt to quiet him.

You don’t even notice Harry’s absence until he’s back, a chestnut colored teddy bear held in his right hand. It’s the one present that the two of you picked out and agreed on, the one thing Sterling actively tried to reach for when it was opened earlier in the morning. Harry swears it looks just like one he had owned when he was younger and he wanted his son to grow up with a similar comfort. Sterling had stared at it for 10 minutes, no matter how you and Harry had tried to pull his attention away with other things you had opened for him. Currently, Sterling’s louder cries had diminished to softer ones, but still hadn’t completely stopped.

You speak quietly into his ear, almost a whisper when you say, “Look what daddy went back downstairs and got for you, angel. Don’t let him convince you he picked it out though.”

“Mumma’s a terrible liar,” Harry sing-songs at Sterling, flashing a look of disbelief up towards you, “Can’t believe you’d lie to our boy like that on Christmas.”

“It’s not a lie!” You’re still keeping your voice low so as not to disturb the baby again, “I showed it to you online weeks before we found that one in the store!”

“Y’sure? Cause I remember you being distracted by how cute the baby shoes were. I had to convince you not to spend $50 on a pair of boots he wouldn’t even be able to wear until next year!”

“I..well..they were on sale! He’d look so cute running around in boots next year!”

“You think he’ll be running by next year?” There’s a genuine fear in his voice at that thought, the idea of his baby growing up that fast.

“Maybe. He’ll be a year old next Christmas so it’s a definite possibility, especially if he takes after you.”

His voice is somber when he speaks again, “I can’t imagine him being anything other than the tiny baby he is now.”

“Babies grow, H,” The statement comes out more sarcastic than you intended, so you add, “Whether we want him to or not. We can always have another one too, you know.”

“You’re already thinking about another baby? Now?

“Well, not this second, no. But eventually. Like to maybe give you a little girl if you want one. Or any other boy is fine too. I’d be happy either way.”

“I’d take a girl.” He smirks at you, taking the now sleeping Sterling from you, placing a kiss to his forehead before bending to transfer him carefully into his crib. You both hold your breath as Sterling stretches, another tiny mewl at not being held anymore. His eyes stay closed though, and the two of you release a sigh of relief at the sound of his soft snores.

“Yeah?” You work one arm around his waist as he bends to tuck the teddy bear next to Sterling. He knows it can’t stay there while he naps, but for now he hopes it’ll bring his son even more comfort than he’s already feeling, at least for the few minutes more that he’ll be standing there to watch over him.

“Yeah,” He nods, still looking down when he continues, “As long as she turns out just like you, I’d love a lil girl.”

You don’t know what to say to that; don’t know how to tell him that one of your nightly prayers is that Sterling will turn out just like him. Big-hearted and kind with soft brown curls and that bright smile that could charm anyone. You would tell him later, but for now all you can do is stare lovingly back at him, blinking a few times to clear the tears. A love this big was something that had only ever existed in your dreams, and now you were being reminded of how real and true it was, your only response is to wrap your other arm around him and hug him tightly. You know he’ll be able to interpret the hug as a sign of your admiration for what he’s just said, for the wish that he hopes was just spoken into existence for the future.

When he does lift his eyes back up to study your face, his next breath is simply used to tell you, “Merry Christmas, darlin’”

[kidney9-9]

Weekends [Peter Parker x Reader] - Part One

Hey there! I hope you enjoy this oneshot :) I started writing this, going to go to a fluffy route and then it got sad and angsty lmao! That's why I'm planning on writing a second part to this! Thank you very much for reading :) I do not own the gif, credit to the creator.

This oneshot is set in the future, and everyone is alive :) The days in this oneshot is just Saturday and Sunday to clear things up!

Peter Parker x Reader (Angst) Warnings: swear words and kissing Word Count: 2.2k

--

Every weekend was put to good use.

This weekend though, you were bored and upset. Peter was supposed to be in the city yesterday, and he sent an apology, explaining that the meeting’s been extended out for at least another day. You rolled your eyes at the thought.

You didn’t like the idea of Peter following Stark’s footsteps, because you knew how much work it would be. All that business, and the Avengers, you didn’t really like it.

You’ve met Stark before, and he gave you a terrible impression. The way he greeted you as if you were just a little fly in his office made you so angry for weeks.

Peter made it one of his priorities to see that you two were to never meet again after you poured coffee onto one of his computers.

The phone buzzed in your hand, and you bit your lip, contemplating if you should answer it since it was Peter. You were still sad he couldn’t have just excused himself from the meeting. From what you could tell, it was something about a deal falling apart in Japan, but you knew Stark would probably fix whatever the issue was.

“Yeah?” You answered, rolling your eyes when you heard Peter’s automatic apologetic sigh. It was something you loved and disliked at the same time. He was always so… quiet compared to you. You were open, truthful, loud, stubborn, and Peter was a bit of the opposite. You knew he’d hide the truth from you about somethings, but it wasn’t really a big concern to you.

“I’m sorry babe, about my message. I think I’ll be back by like 10 tonight though. I know we always have like a date night or trip on weekends, but I think I’m too tired for a big thing. Is that alright?” Peter responded, and you could hear people mumbling in the background.

You laid back down into the couch, pushing your lips to the side feeling a little guilty. You didn’t like how he had to ask permission or say things to ask you if it was okay to do or not do something. You weren’t controlling, but Peter had some vocabulary or grammar that made it sound as if you were.

“Yeah, it’s cool, you don’t need to ask that Pete. I’m sorry I’m being a bit of a bitch.” You responded, twiddling your fingers a bit now after putting the phone on speaker. You were just frustrated, and you knew what you were craving but you needed to push it down if Peter didn’t want to do anything tonight.

“You’re not. Hey – I actually need to get back, I love you. And if you’re too tired, you don’t need to stay up or anything when I get back.” Peter replied, and you could hear the bit of panic in his voice and the raise of volume of the others in the room. You hummed back to him, picking your phone back up.

“Love you too, see ya.” You hung up quick, knowing he needed to sort whatever just happened.

--

You had the blankets pulled up over your shoulder, facing away from the door when you heard it creek a bit. You rolled over tiredly, yawning, and trying to blink open your eyes. “Hey.” You muttered, feeling your throat scratch a bit from the sleepiness.

“Oh, it’s okay, go back to sleep.” You were quickly shushed by Peter and you giggled a little when you felt him kiss your forehead. You nodded back and closed your eyes, breathing in heavily to start going back to sleep.

Peter changed into his pajamas, too tired to have a shower. He couldn’t believe how today was so chaotic. There was so much happening, he didn’t know how to handle it. Once he laid down on the bed, he didn’t bother grabbing a blanket from you because he was feeling too hot anyway.

He didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to leave soon. He felt sick thinking about it because he knew it would be so long, maybe almost a year.

He wished he could bring you, but he didn’t want to push you into traveling to a foreign country with him. You were looking for a job here, and the two of you just moved in four months ago. He couldn’t put your life on pause for him.

Tony said it was urgent that Peter left on Monday. Something about a mission with Bruce Banner, and researching a mysterious reading one of the monitors caught somewhere in Northern Ireland. There were very possible threats and sending Peter there to protect Banner and the equipment was necessary.

He scooted closer to you, shaking his head from the distressing thoughts. He’d have to tell you in the morning.

--

“So, what did you want for lunch?” You asked, bumping into Peter purposely. You noticed how down he was feeling today, the look on his face made you confused. It wasn’t fun seeing him upset, and you tried talking to him about it, but he shook it off, saying it was alright.

“Does pizza sound good to you?” He replied, scratching his hair a little. You grinned back to him, nodding a yes. That sounded delicious, and that was exactly the food that you knew could cheer him up. You searched for the pizza place’s number on your phone, handing it to him.

“Your choice of toppings!” You laughed, in a singsong voice. He cracked a smile back to you, shaking his head at your silliness.

He pulled himself up on the kitchen counter, sitting and started to swing his legs. You chuckled at his actions, quickly going between his legs, and leaned up on your toes to kiss his chin. As you started to pull away, he pressed call on the phone, pushing speaker. He wrapped his legs around the back of you, bringing you back in.

As the phone started to call, you leaned up again, wrapping your arms around his neck to make him lean a little down to your lips. You giggled silently, kissing the corner of his lips, then glanced up to him again. You saw the bits of pink spread across his face as you stared down to his mouth again.

And finally, you glanced back to his eyes again, noticing they were closed now, waiting for a kiss. You took half a moment before you pressed your lips against his, and he instantly responded. He scooted closer to the edge of the table, as you kissed him deeper, spreading your fingers on the back of his head, playing with his hair.

“Hi welcome to Matt’s Pizza, may I take your order?”

You and Peter instantly shot apart, laughing silently at each other. Peter cleared his throat as you raised your eyebrows at him, grinning. “Hey, um, I’d like to order a large pizza, one side cheese, the other meat.” He responded to the guy over the phone.

“Okay, will that be all?” The person said, and you set a hand on Peter’s thigh, tilting your head to the side a bit, watching his reaction.

“Yep, thank you!” Peter rushed out, supplying the guy with your address. You giggled when Peter practically punched the phone to hang up, hugging you again.

You went straight back to kissing him, moving your hand back to his hair. You twirled it around with your fingers, and you smiled into the kiss, tugging his hair softly, as his hand scanned up your back. His hand slipped under your t-shirt, gripping your skin now.

As he pulled away for a breath, you sighed shortly, glancing away. “Peter, what’s happening with you?” You whispered, not wanting to see what he’d do. Whenever you confronted something to Peter, he’d always have this look on his face, and sometimes you could tell it was bad, other times you couldn’t.

“I just… There’s stuff that happened recently. And it’s really hard. I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I’m sorry.” Peter didn’t even understand what was drooping out of his mouth. He went over this so many times last night, how to explain it to you but now in the moment he didn’t really know.

“What is it? Please tell me.” You mumbled, looking down at his shirt. You watched his chest rise and lower with anxiety.

“I have to go on a mission, or like an assignment. I can’t really tell you the details, it’s in Ireland though. I know it’s super far away- fuck.” Peter shook his head, feeling too distraught. He couldn’t say it. This isn’t what he planned, it was supposed to be easier, and he felt a huge lump in his throat.

“What?” You glanced up to him, eyes wide. No way, that couldn’t be true. It must be a prank, or a joke at least. He likes jokes, but you knew he wouldn’t do this type of joke, right? You shook your head, denying it completely.

“No what, funny joke! Okay now, you can say it’s fake…Right? It’s fake.” You quickly added on.

When he didn’t respond, your smile dropped completely, and you backed away slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t choose to make it happen, I’m sorry. I don’t know how long it’ll be.” His voice cracked, and you hesitantly put your hand to his face.

You cupped his cheek, as you watched his eyes go red, and you frowned back at them, shaking your head again. “Don’t cry, babe. It’s okay, it’s not your fault. When?” You mumbled back, trying to hold back your emotions. It was hard, but you couldn’t let him see how much this would hurt you.

You loved him, and if he saw you this upset, it would hurt him too.

“Monday, this Monday.” He responded, not understanding how fast this happened. He couldn’t get it, how the two of you were speaking about this. He thought you would be angry, and sad, but he couldn’t tell. You were being calm and quiet, and it was nothing like you. Especially for something like this, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I can’t – what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, slipping his confusion into his voice.

Your thumb moved softly in circles on his cheek to comfort him. You felt numb, but so hurt that you didn’t know how to react. How could you both have such a happy moment before and then this happened?

You didn’t know how to answer. You cleared your throat slightly, “I don’t know.” You answered honestly, knowing if you thought about this anymore, you’d have something to say.

It was too difficult to process. Monday? That soon? It was tomorrow. And you couldn’t see him for a certain amount of time either.

“Fuck, Pete.” You groaned, closing your eyes when you realized how much time you have left. “We only have today to say our goodbyes?” You added on.

Peter nodded slowly, “Yeah, it’s… I’m sorry I put it off for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you. I don’t want to disrupt your life or anything when I go there, and I know we rent this place together, but don’t worry. I already thought it through, I can pay for however long you want to stay here if you’d like, um, and if I can talk Tony into it, maybe I can have some breaks to come here and see you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he stopped when he heard you sigh.

You pulled yourself completely away from him, walking to the other side of the room, needing space.

Fuck this, you thought.

You closed your eyes again, needing to silent your thoughts for now, and you didn’t even realize the tears running down your face.

“Y/n, please talk to me.” Peter spoke up, walking towards you.

“I’m scared!” You let out, surprising yourself. “I’m scared, what the fuck is this mission? Are you going to be safe? Ireland, Peter? What- what time are you leaving tomorrow? Can I come? Fuck, I don’t want to leave you. I’m in love with you!” Your voice kept raising in volume until you felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders.

He spun you around to face him, and his face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m in love with you too.��� He whispered, whipping away your tears.

“Can I come with you?” You repeated your question, with more steadiness in your voice.

When he slowly shook his head, no, your shoulders slumped. He pulled you into a silent hug, as you sniffled. After a few minutes of hugging, you could feel a slight wetness on your neck, and you hugged him tighter, knowing he was crying along with you.

“I’m sorry.” You heard the heaviness of guilt and sadness in his voice, and you squeezed your eyes closed.

“It’s not your fault Peter. I understand it.”

He kissed the side of your neck, and you loosened your hug. You blinked away the rest of your tears, pulling your face to his. His face was all red, and his eyes were still watery like yours were. You kissed his lips as soft as you could, wanting to savior it as much as possible.

“I promise you I will come back as soon as I can. I love you.”pe

[camistired]

stranger

scenario: trying to show Bucky that your there for him during tfatws, but he keeps ignoring you

a/n: i started writing this yesterday after watching the first episode of tfatws. if people like this, i might make this a whole ff following the show, so let me know if you like this. also please ignore any mistakes or if it’s wordy, i haven’t written anything in months. i am open to criticism!

edit: i didn’t realize i didn’t name until i was trying to add it to my masterlist, so please ignore the half-assed name, please and thankyou

reader has been left gender-neutral and has no specific race written

spoiler warning

It had been a few months since everyone started reappearing, yourself included. The last thing you remembered was waiting out the fight with Thanos with Shuri, and you remembered feeling lighter then usual and you watched as your friend turned to dust before your very eyes. However what felt like the same breathe, you watched as her being was rebuilt by the same dust the took her away.

It had been a lot to process, to know that you and others close to you had basically died, and came back to the same exact fight happening. It was worse to come back to know that one of your dearest friends was dead and she couldn’t be brought back like the lot of you. It sucked standing in-between Bucky and Sam at Tony’s funeral.

You had missed five years of life, and for what? For some giant purple pyscho titan to stop over population and then become a space rancher? In your eyes, it was complete and utter bullshit. But you can’t change the past.

With Steve’s retirement, Bucky’s pardon, and Sam still kicking ass and saving people as The Falcon, you felt lost. Everyone else has scattered around to handle everything by themselves. But you thrived off of others, that’s just how you worked. So, sitting lonely in your single bedroom Brooklyn apartment, you let out a loud sigh.

You stayed in New York, purely for Bucky’s sake. The man is a hundred and six, and is an ex-assassin, he doesn’t need your help. Especially since you can barely hold a gun without nearly pissing your pants. But you knew the man was basically alone. He spent his past ninety years being in and out of ice fighting, except when he had his moment of peace in Wakanda.

You’ve tried to reach out, called him every now and again, but it was always went to voicemail. You left so many voicemails, your surprised it isn’t full by now. But you’ll keep leaving them, no matter if he actually listens to them or if he just deletes them immediately. You hoped that they gave him some sort of comfort if he did ever listen to them.

You looked at the time, it was a quarter past eleven. You let out another sigh. Something you still haven’t been able to get down was your damn sleep schedule. Sometimes you stayed up until two - three in the morning and sleep into the afternoon, and that was on a good day. You tried to establish a routine, but it just  never worked. If you tried to go to bed earlier, you end up either staring at the ceiling till sunrise or waking up in the middle of the night, for no reason. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, you didn’t have a nightmare, you just woke up, and you couldn’t go back to sleep, no matter what you tried. You’ve expressed this to your brother, you suggests maybe you go see a therapist, maybe do a sleep study, but you just shut the ideas down. That was the last things you wanted to do, was be monitored.

However, you couldn’t do this anymore. You forced yourself out of bed and changed your clothes from your normal sweatpants and baggy t-shirt to leggings and a slightly less baggy shirt. If you couldn’t fall asleep naturally, might as well take a walk around the block and maybe take a melatonin tablet or two, see if that does anything.

Locking your door, you start walking down your hall when you see a man walk away from your neighbor’s, Yori Nakajima’s, door. You’ve known the old man for as long as you lived here. You’ve tried to help him out as much as he will let you, and even though he’ll never admit it, he appreciates the help. He tries to repay in small ways, he even offers you to join him and a younger friend of his for sushi down at Izzy, but you always turn him down. You helped to help, not get anything in return.

You walked up to Yori’s door but he closed it before you could reach his door. You sighed and instead decided to talk to the man walking away.

“Excuse me!” You called out, walking towards him. He seemed to tense up and walked a little faster but you touch his arm before he could go much farther.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I just have a few question...”

He cursed under his breathe but he didn’t move. That’s when you noticed the way he held himself. His body language very much showed he was uncomfortable, and whether he was doing on purpose or subconsciously, he was leaning away from where your hand met his arm.

You moved your hand back down to your side but you walked in front of him and you froze when you saw his face.

“Bucky?!”

He seemed to shy into himself more when you recognized who he was, making you instantly felt bad. However, examining him he looked different. His hair was a big one, ever since you first met Bucky,  his hair was shoulder length. But he looked a lot cleaner with shorter hair, his loose curls a lot more prominent now. However, that  seemed to showcase the most change. It felt as if he went backwards more than anything.

His jacket, the gloves, the brooding energy radiating off of him. He felt like the man you met back when the whole “Civil War” mess was happening.

He softly addressed you, but he still never looked at you directly. It was concerning especially since you considered you two close. But maybe it was because you two haven’t talked properly? Maybe because he’s been ignoring your calls? Whatever the reason, you didn’t care. It made you feel better he was out talking to people, no matter that it was your older neighbor, he was interacting with people. It made you wonder if he had talk to Sam, but you doubted it.

“Long time no see, stranger. Glad to see your still alive.”

He looked at you with a blank expression, and you recognized that looked. He was looking for a tell, if you were angry at him or not. In all honesty, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry like he excepted you to be. You’re glad he was doing something, he didn’t have to be okay fully, just as long as he was going out.

“I’m not angry, Bucky.” You said flatly, as his eyes met yours. You could tell that he relaxed, physically. “I mean, concerned, sure. Scared you had locked yourself in your apartment, definitely. But not mad. Just... wished you would have called. Sent a text to let me know you were okay... Anything, really.”

He sighs, “I know... I should have done something- said something. I just have a lot going on.”

“Everyone does. Half of the population got turned into dust, we’ve lost a lot of friends. It’s just... we’ve gotta stay together, you know? We can’t rely on Steve anymore... And the more we’re by ourselves, the more we’re just creating terrible coping mechanisms, ya know?”

He seems to be taking in your words and you just smile at him softly. “Just think about it, okay?”

You begin walking down the hall before you turn towards him again, “Oi! And Barnes?”

He looks up at you, “Yeah?”

“If I don’t hear from you soon, just know I will hunt you down and beat your ass! No more of this distancing, stranger shit. I know how to find you now. And you know where I live!”

You smirk as you turn around to finally go on that walk, but little did you know that Bucky had a little smirk of his own as he took in your words.

“No more distancing, no more acting like a stranger... I have to start nurturing my friendships...”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Don’t Treat My Love Like a Habit Part Fourteen

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader Rating: Mature (this may change) Warnings: Cursing; angst... And well.... Y’all will see Notes: Set before the movie. Not beta-read. Reina is Spanish for Queen. I hope everyone’s having a good week! 💜 Summary: You’d spent the last few days checking all of the cameras we had available for Hernandez, but you hadn’t been able to get another fix on the man.

The tracker stopped giving off a signal somewhere around El Eden, outside Jericó. There was no way for you to know if it had been knocked loose, or if it had been found, but it gave you a direction. It also put Hernandez in range of one of the last in-person sightings of Lorea, down by Las Minas.  “So I’ll drive down--” “I don’t know if you should be driving anywhere. You haven’t even gotten your stitches out yet,” You gave the phone a withering look, willing Alex to feel the power of the stare from the other end. You and Pope were at the office, looking down at a readout of all of the places the tracker had given off a signal before cutting. You’d spent the last few days checking all of the cameras we had available for Hernandez, but you hadn’t been able to get another fix on the man. Pope told you that he hadn’t gotten anything else about Hernandeze’s whereabouts from his informant, either, and that she hadn’t even expected him to be in the car that night.

The two of you had taken to calling Alex when we were in the office and having him on speakerphone when we were talking over status updates that day. You tended to go by his apartment at least once a day to check on him, make sure he was eating properly and helping out if he needed it. Pope had gone with you a couple of times, and they had been… Amiable. “Fine, you drive,” Alex retorted. You shook your head. “I’m still looking through these feeds. I get that we may get something closer to where the tracker cut, but-- I don’t want anyone going anywhere until we have something more firm. If the tech just shat the bed, or they found it and broke it, going down to El Eden isn’t going to solve anything, it’s just going to waste time.” 

“Pope, your informant doesn’t have anything?” “She didn’t the last time I spoke to her,” Pope turned his head toward the phone to answer, his eyes still set firmly on the map, “But I have a check-in with her in a couple of hours.” A check-in. You were pointedly not thinking about what that might entail. “Look, soon as we get something that looks like Hernandez--” “What if we don’t?” Alex asked. You went quiet. It was a fair question. The man had slipped up once; he’d be raising his guard, making sure nothing like that happened again. You and Pope had both been twice as cautious that week, double- and triple-checking that the door was locked before we went to bed. “We will,” Pope answered. You turned to look at him, taking in the set of his brow, the way his lips were pulling down. He meant, ‘We have to’.

--

You hadn’t had a quiet night alone without Pope since the office had been broken into. It was… Odd. Not eerie or anything, but just like something was missing. You’d briefly, stupidly, wondered if Pope felt like this when you’d stayed with Alex at the hospital. It was Pope’s apartment, he was used to being there alone. Well maybe not alone, but at least without you there-- You huffed, closing the fridge door for what had to be the fifth time that evening. Pope hadn’t told you when he’d be home back when he’d left to meet with his informant. “You gonna tell me what her name is, or should I call her Isabella 2.0?” You’d tried to tease. He’d cast you a dour look as he’d tugged jacket. “What’s it matter what her name is?” He’d asked, and the words had left him with such tired irritation that you immediately felt stupid for saying anything. “No, it… It doesn’t,” You’d mumbled. He’d just grunted, said he’d let you and ‘Brano know if he got anything, and left.

Maybe he hadn’t sounded that irritated? Maybe you’d just been thinking about it too long. Being in the apartment alone gave you a lot of time and silence in which to overthink things. You’d texted Frankie and the guys to see how they were doing, but Benny had a fight that night, so you wouldn’t be able to distract yourself with them for at least another few hours, and by then, Santiago would be home. Hopefully. Hopefully Santiago would be home. Back. Hopefully Santiago would be back. 

-- 

Hernandez is hunkered down in Las Minas. You’d jumped at the sound of your phone, and now you were just staring at the text that had come through from Santiago. Lorea? Was Alex’s answering text. Unclear, Pope’s response came through in seconds.

Las Minas, you could work with that. First thing in the morning, you’d go in and start working through the camera feeds that you could access from Diego’s office. You opened your separate texts with Santiago. Coming back soon?

You watched the screen for a few moments before setting the phone aside. A few more minutes, nothing. He’d answered Alex so quickly. You looked around the apartment, stomach churning. Maybe you wouldn’t wait until morning to head into the office and start combing through those camera feeds. 

-- 

You left him a post-it, of course. 

--

“So I’ve got five possible targets, there are like three that I’m ready to rule out, but I wanted to get your read on them before I dropped them completely,” You said, not even bothering with a ‘hello’, instead pointing to a map on the wall with printed-out imagery from the cameras you’d been able to access pinned to it, “The red tacks are the ones I think are the most likely, blue are the ones I wanna ditch.” “Have you been here all night?” Pope didn’t bother with a ‘hello’, either. “Where else would I be?” You returned your hand to the keyboard, eyes still on the monitor. “I don’t know, with Zambrano?” He said it like it was obvious, like you were over there all the time, beyond helping the guy since he was wounded. “Just stopped by after work for a bit.” “And then?” “Would you look at the map, please?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as snappy as it had, but you were… Tired, and annoyed - more annoyed than tired. Santiago had never answered your text, nor had he texted you when he got in, which you’d asked him to do on the post-it. To top it all off, he was asking if you had been at the office all night. So, presumably, he hadn’t gotten in, had spent the night elsewhere, and… And you’d gotten a tip out of it. Anything else that happened didn’t matter, and you didn’t care anyway, and this game of emotional whack-a-mole was really starting to take it out of you. 

You didn’t dare look at Pope, didn’t want to know whether he was looking at you or the map in the stilted silence that followed. But after a few moments, you heard his footsteps trail away from your desk, over to the wall, and you let yourself glance over your shoulder. Same jacket as yesterday - but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. You lowered your head back to your work, shaking your head a little. What he was wearing, what he did last night or didn’t do, none of that mattered, none of it-- “Ditch the blue.” Pope’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you grabbed the pen you’d set aside hours ago, crossing them off of the list that you’d compiled. “Too conspicuous?” You asked. “Yep.” You tossed the pen back onto the desk and glanced over at Pope, watching him look at the two remaining targets. They weren’t terribly far from one another, but they couldn’t be monitored by one person. “I’ll get Zambrano, drive down, hit them today,” Pope said, pulling his jacket sleeve back and glancing back down at his wrist, “He can drive. We won’t engage if we see anything, it’ll be strictly recon,” He added, glancing back at you.  You turned back to your computer, nodding and wordless. You didn’t like the idea, but you knew that the tip that Pope had gotten would need to be moved on quickly. “You should go back to the apartment, get some rest,” Pope added, heading for the door of your small office space. “I’ve got some stuff to wrap up here,” You shook your head. “Reina.” You looked up at Pope then, raising a brow and waiting for him to speak. He hesitated before he sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll grab walkie-talkies, Zambrano and I will radio when we’re in position.” “Fine,” You nodded, and were on your way to adding, “Be careful,” When you found yourself speaking to the door. 

-- 

“How was the fight?” You asked, leaning back from your monitor and stretching your back over your chair as you spoke into your chair. “What fight?” Alex’s voice crackled through your headset. “Mic,” Pope’s sighed over Alex’s question. “Shit, hang on, ‘Fish-- Sorry, guys,” You apologized before tapping the mute button on your headset - the controls were so damn sensitive. You’d already accidentally knocked them half a dozen times. You raised your phone back to the ear you’d pushed your headset back from. “Sorry, Fish.” “Late night?” Frankie chuckled. “... So how was the fight?” You repeated, not in the mood to touch that just yet. “It was great. Benny kicked the guy’s ass.” “Atta boy,” You grinned, pushing yourself out of your seat, “How’ve you been?” You listened to Frankie catch you up on what you’d missed the last couple of weeks, checking your phone screen now and again for any texts from Santiago or Alex, just in case. “You okay, Q?” “Fine, why?” “You sound a little...Dead.” “Forgot what a sweet-talker you were, chulo.” “You know I don’t mean it like that--” “I’m teasing, Frankie,” You smiled a little, grabbing your mug and walking over to where you’d set up the coffee maker in the back office that Diego had allotted you and Pope, “I’m fine, just… Yeah, late night. Work, you know.” You hesitated as you set your mug down, thinking. “...Frank?” “Yeah?” “Let’s say… Hypothetically… That there was a, like… Snowball’s chance in hell that there was some truth to all the teasing you’ve done about me and Pope.” “How big a snowball?” “You know that boulder that chases Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark?” “Oh, no!” Frankie laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit at the sound of it -- it was so light, and after the mental hell you’d been putting yourself through, it was nice to hear someone laughing about it. “What’s going on?” He asked. You looked down at the coffee pot, trying to cobble your thoughts together. “It’s just-- Ugh, hang on,” You reached up, adjusting your headset as it began to slip, your hand brushing the controls as you did, “It’s just that-- I don’t know if it’s because I’m staying with the guy, or-- Or what, but I can’t get him out of my head. It’s bad, Frankie. And I mean, it’s not new, either, I’ve had feelings for Santiago since… Since before I took this job. I mean they weren’t always serious, not like they are now, but there’s always been something there for me--” Now that you were admitting it, you couldn’t get the words to stop; they were spilling out like unorganized tupperware from a hastily shut cupboard, “But fuck, it’s just been so much-- Worse isn’t the word, I mean, noticeable, maybe. Fuck, I’ve been living with the guy, we sleep in the same bed, and he’s cuddly, and I like it way too much. I spent half the night looking for new apartments because I just… I can’t do it anymore. If I don’t get out of there, I think I’m gonna fall in lo--” “Hey Q?” Alex’s voice crackled in through your earpiece. “Hang on ‘Fish--” You sighed, raising your hand to your headset. But before you could even touch it-- “Your mic is on,” Santiago’s voice was quiet, almost regretful. Your heart slammed into your rib cage with the force of a freight train. You reached up with a shaking hand, tapping the mic button on your headset again to mute it. “...Francisco, I’m going to need to call you back.” Tag list: @justanotherblonde23​  ; @revolution-starter​  ; @emurlemur​ ; @badbitxhbuckybarnes ;  @supernaturalcat7​ ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​

[thefanficmonster]

Best Friend’s Brother

Conrad (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Man of Medan) x Reader (Male)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst

Summary: Having been invited to the boat trip by his best friend Julia, Y/N can’t help but wish he never accepted the invitation because now he has to deal with being stuck on a boat with the boy he’s had a crush on for years with no real way to avoid him.

Requested by @dark-pictures-until-dawn  Hi hun! Thank you so much for your request, sorry to have kept you waiting for so long but here it finally is and I really hope you enjoy the read! (I used he/him pronouns but if you want them changed feel free to let me know!) Love, Vy ❤

I have no idea what I was thinking when I agreed to go on this trip. I don’t know what on God’s green Earth I was thinking but here we are now sitting on a boat, at open water with no land for miles. And I’m sitting here, face to face with him, but I’m completely frozen. Unable to say a single damn thing. Maybe that’s a good thing though, I’d probably embarrass myself if I did say something.

Let me give you a bit of backstory to how I found myself in this situation.

My parents are very close to Julia and Conrad’s family, given that our mothers used to go to high school together and have remained best friends ever since. That’s how I met the two siblings and was quick to grow a friendship with them both. Despite being Julia’s age, I found myself always gravitating towards Conrad but the girl is still my best friend - she’d probably kill me if I let her brother take that title from her. Truth be told, he could never take her title - I could never see Conrad as a best friend.

Not when my feelings towards him are anything but platonic.

No, I did not tell Julia about said feelings and no I don’t plan on telling her either. I’d never hear the end of it if I did tell her about it. She’d chew me up about it, making my romantic interest for her brother the main topic of discussion (read: teasing and mocking). Don’t get me wrong, I love Julia to death and there are never any secrets between us.

Well, there weren’t any until a few years ago when I realized my fondness for the dumbass she calls brother goes beyond just friendship and similarity. That it had more of a romantic nature that I was not prepared to have to deal with. And, in all honesty, I don’t think I’ve dealt with at all even now. I mean, it’s probably obvious thanks to the silence that’s taken over the deck of the boat where I’m currently sitting with Conrad, monitoring Alex and Julia’s dive while Fliss is tending to a seasick Brad downstairs.

“Hey Y/N, want a beer?“ When the comfortable but odd silence is broken, no one would be shocked to find it out it was done so by Conrad. I’m surprised he even managed to stay silent for so long.

“No thanks, I’ll keep the alcohol at bay until tonight when everyone’s onboard.“ It’s not a complete lie, that’s what I like about it.

You see, I’ve never got drunk with Conrad in the vicinity and I don’t wanna risk my drunk ass outing me and my silly and have neither him nor I remember it the next morning. So, to avoid getting carried with the drinking, I won’t be starting now and I’ll make sure to limit myself even tonight to three beers tops. I’m no lightweight but I’m no daredevil either.

“You’re oddly quiet.“ Conrad says when he returns with a beer in his hand, the glass bottle stained with droplets, suggesting he’s just taken it out of one of the coolers we brought. He presses the bottle to the side of his neck where he got a sunburn yesterday, some droplets trickling down his skin. He doesn’t seem to mind it as he keeps his focused gaze on me, a mildly concerned frown upon his face as he studies my expression, “Something wrong? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what best friends are for, after all.“ He smirks, putting extra emphasis on the word ‘best‘.

I laugh but I cringe inwardly. Something about calling him ‘best friend’ feels so unnatural and odd and out-of-place I can’t even describe it. I know it may sound ridiculous but if you’ve ever had a crush there’s a high chance that you can relate. “Don’t worry, if it were worth mentioning, I’d tell you.“ I blow off his concerns, using his own method against him.

He’s known to do that - sweep all his troubles under the rug and stand atop it to make sure they don’t try to escape and resurface while he’s keeping his bright smile on his face, avoiding showing any other expression. I’m no fool and neither is no one around him, at least the ones who know him well and are close to him. Us who he considers friends know that it’s not all smiles and sunshine in his life either.

Wish I could pull that rug from under him and see what’s really going on with him but not even Julia is allowed to do so, let alone me.

Thankfully though, before things could get any more awkward, Julia and Alex resurface with some rather exciting news - they went in as boyfriend and girlfriend and came back as an engaged couple.

And just like that, all thoughts surrounding Conrad were thrown out of my head. Ok, maybe not completely, but they were suppressed into some dark corner of my brain.

                                                              *  *  *

“You’ve got Connie worried.“ I yelp when my best friend plops her ass down next to me on the deck, her second bottle of beer half empty by now while I’m still nursing my first as though I’m trying to save more beers for the rest of the people on board.  We already have plenty of beers in stock but even if we didn’t, considering the sickness he had to endure earlier, Brad isn’t drinking, leaving his share at our disposal. Therefore, Jules is quick to catch onto my slow drinking.

I tilt my bottle in her direction, “I want to avoid getting sick like Brad did, thank you very much. The last thing I’m looking forward to is kneeling by the edge of the boat, puking my guts out.“

Julia laughs, clinking her bottle against mine before taking a swig. I take one too, hoping it fuels my courage at least a tiny bit to try and lead this conversation properly, “Nah, that’s not what he meant - although, I doubt Brad’s sickness was an alcohol issue.” She shakes her head, pushing aside a few blond locks to be able to look at me better. That’s when I feel like her gaze is piercing into my soul and I wish I knew how to shield myself from that. There’s a big issue with having your crush’s sister be your best friend, especially when she has a sixth sense for when there’s something off with me. “But you have been avoiding him, don’t deny it.” My eyes widen against my will and my mouth falls open as I try to defend myself and deflect her argument, but she raises a finger to signal me to keep my thoughts to myself while she’s talking. “Did he say something inappropriate while we were gone? Just tell me, I’ll end him!”

“Relax, Jules, Conrad would never do such a thing. Especially not with someone he cares about.“ Alex interferes - God bless his soul - and takes a seat next to Julia, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve known Connie for as long as I’ve known you, J. You should know by now that, even at the odd chance he does say something inappropriate, I have a reply ready at all times.“ I shoot her a wink in an attempt to wipe away the concerned expression on her face.

Alex contributes, “See? Nothing to worry about. Now let Y/N enjoy his beer and you enjoy yours.”

I shoot Alex a grateful smile over behind Julia’s back, subtly tilting my bottle towards him - a gesture he understands perfectly and does so in return. However, his fiancée refuses to give up the argument.

“No, no, no. There is definitely something to worry about and I’ll get it out of him if it’s the last thing I ever do.“ She narrows her eyes at me, forcing me to instinctively back away as if that’s gonna help me at all. Then, this woman pulls a 180 on me, going from an angry detective to a disappointed and betrayed friend, “Damn it, Y/N! I always tell you everything and you are just a closed book! How is that fair?!“

It may or may not be a tactic but she’s got a point - I rarely tell her things. I’m the listener of the duo and she’s the talker: she shares, I absorb the info; she’s upset, I listen and comfort her accordingly; she has something troubling her, I’m the one she shares it with. It’s rarely ever the other way around. And I can see why it bothers her.

What’s a little truth to pay her back for all the ones she’s told me? Well, the problem is that this particular truth is far from little and it would be the equivalent of descending into my own grave willingly.

It could also help you, you know? 

Yeah, sure it can. Sure it can....

“Ok fine!“ I cut her off because this woman can never run out of words to use against me when she wants to.

Her fiancée is quick to give me a sympathizing look, “No, Y/N, you don’t have to...”

“No, it’s ok, Alex. I owe her this much...“ I sigh, looking at the doorway leading to the lower level of the boat where Conrad went a while ago and doesn’t seem like he’s in a hurry to return, much to my relief. I sigh, succumbing to the inevitable, “Jules, I’m only gonna say this once and no, I won’t elaborate but I need you to promise me you won’t freak the hell out. Got it?“

The blond girl rolls her eyes, “Come on Y/N, are we in middle school or something?”

Oh she’s so not ready to hear this...

“Fine, then I bet you won’t be bothered by my crush on your brother at all.“ I huff out before I can rethink the words I’d use or how I’d phrase the sentence. It just left my body as though it has been waiting to do so for a while no. That wouldn’t surprise me though, it’s been one heavy weight to carry around.

There’s a long moment of silence. Alex and I both gaze at Julia who is pulling off the most impressive poker face I’ve ever seen but I have no time to dwell on that considering I’m too busy keeping my stomach from turning completely and forcing me to throw up the small amount of food I’ve eaten and the beer I’ve had to drink. When Julia opens her mouth to talk, I raise the bottle to my lips to shut myself up and calm myself down. “The only thing that bothers me is the fact you didn’t tell me sooner.“

To say I’m flabbergasted would be an understatement. I’ve seen Julia freak out over smaller things but she’s calm about this?! I’m impressed. But then again, I shouldn’t speak too soon - this might just be the calm before the storm.

“If I knew you’d be this chill about it I wouldn’t have waited so long.“ I admit sheepishly, fidgeting with my hands now that I’ve put the bottle aside. “It’s unlike you to be this calm about something....like this.“ I cannot find the right words to describe ‘this‘ but I know she gets me and that’s a relief.

“I’m a drama queen when I wanna be and a strategic player when I have to be, Y/N, how come you don’t know that?“ She smirks at me, all self-assured and whatnot. Wish I had at least a fragment of her self-esteem. “Speaking of strategic, leave it all to me. The two of you will be together in no time.“ She nudges me in the ribs with her elbow, giving me a wink that makes my blood run cold, my eyes opening wide as plates.

“No way, J! No fucking way.“ I feverously shake my head, the idea itself making me feel so terrified and unsure like I’ve never felt before. “You won’t do anything just like I won’t do anything. He doesn’t see me that way and that’s that, no room for negotiating.“

She scoffs, “Oh please. Have you known him all his life? Have you seen him through every darn moment of his life - from being a pathetic loser in middle school to the playboy in high school? No you haven’t. Well, I have and I can say with all the certainty within me that the way he looks at you is a dead giveaway of how he feels for you. He’s had many romantic partners, and I’ve never once seen him look at them the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

I narrow my eyes at her, “You do realize you’re contradicting your own point here - he’s never looked at me the way he looks at his romantic partners means he’s never seen me as a romantic partner!”

Julia shakes her head, “Goddammit, Y/N, you’re really trying to explain my brother to me? I’m telling you, the look he gives you is a lot more meaningful, a lot more special, unlike any look he’s ever given anyone.” The girl scans my face, looking for something I’m not sure she’ll find. “He adores you, Y/N. Perhaps even more than you.”

The words have no time to sink in an be processed by my spasming brain when I hear a familiar voice come from my right, “Wait, what?! What did I miss?”

If Conrad doesn’t have the best timing ever, I don’t know who does...

“Oh dear brother, we’ve been missing out on A LOT.“ Julia says, using every bit of insinuation she can to get me on-edge.

Conrad’s confused gaze darts between the three of us: Alex, who’s still in the processing phase, Julia who’s smiling widely and me who’s downright terrified. I now wish I had another beer bottle handy. It’d keep me occupied if nothing else.

Suddenly, the engaged couple arise from their seats and begin walking away - not without Julia flashing Conrad and I a big grin that says ‘Have fun, you two!’ as though she doesn’t know how much I’m sweating right now.

Conrad however doesn’t seem to notice the teasing undertones as he takes the seat opposite me, tightly holding onto his beer bottle when his gaze meets mine. There’s a smirk on his face but I don’t see even a trace of it in his eyes, leading me to believe it’s ingenuine and forced which is something I never thought I’d see on Connie’s face - a fake smile. It’s almost disturbing to witness.

“Well, well, well, has our boy scout found himself a significant other? Sorry if I’m far from the mark, I’m just shooting in the dark here. I didn’t get to hear much so I might be really inaccurate.“

I shake my head, “No, no, you’re pretty close actually.“ I was prepared to deny it to my grave but here I am confessing like a fool, “It’s a potential significant other. To be fair, there’s no potential whatsoever but a boy can dream.“

He quirks up a curious brow, “Why’d you be so sure?”

Well fuck, I didn’t think it that far through.

I attempt to play it off cool, shrugging my shoulder nonchalantly, “I’m not his type at all. I just know he doesn’t see me the way I see him. Hell, I’m not even sure he’s into guys and even....“

Conrad doesn’t let me finish though, shutting my up with his lips pressed against mine. I can’t recall when he closed the distance between us, I can’t even remember seeing him get up from his spot on the bench. Were my eyes closed? I have no clue, all I know is that they’re shut now and I’m afraid that this will all turn out to be a dream if I open them.

Therefore, I keep them shut even after we pull away, our faces still remaining inches away from one another.

“You still think he doesn’t like guys?“ The cocky fucker asks in a mumble, chuckling slightly.

I should probably feel timid, embarrassed or nervous or anything else that would fit well in this situation but all I feel is relief and all I can do is tilt my head back and laugh my heart out at the one thought that pops into my head:

I may have been the last person to know I had a crush on Conrad

Connie doesn’t allow me to spiral any further. He instead takes a gentle hold of the back of my neck, bringing me in for another kiss.

Man, is our story a cliché though - the story of how a dumbass (me) fell in love with his best friend’s brother.