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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year

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North To The Future [Chapter 8: Crash And Burn]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, actual sex (18+ readers only), near-death experiences, health crises, hospitals, questionable tattoos, trout with Trent.

Word count: 6.7k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

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“He broke up with me.” Kimmie hasn’t taken a single sip of her Miller Lite. She’s staring right past you and Heather, her eyes glassy puddles shimmering with reflections of multicolored Christmas lights. It’s Monday, December 13th, and Dale’s stereo is playing Queen’s Thank God It’s Christmas. You’re in the usual booth and waiting for the boys to get off work. Outside the frosted windows is an ocean of darkness punctuated by narrow aisles of murky streetlight luminescence. “He actually broke up with me.”

Heather snaps her fingers in front of Kimmie’s face. “Uh, Kimmie, Earth to Kimmie, yeah, can you give us a little more exposition, please? When exactly did this happen?”

“Yesterday,” Kimmie says, slightly more present now. “He’d been weird since the hike, super depressed, super boring…he wasn’t even interested in doggie style, and he loves doggie style!”

“Boundaries, Kimmie,” Heather pleads.

“So he called me to come over last night and I went to see him and he was…like…sitting on his couch with his hands folded in his lap like it was a freaking job interview. And he explained that he thought I was totally great and that we’d had a lot of fun together but now he had to break things off for personal reasons.”

“Wow, personal reasons, wow,” Heather muses. She doesn’t turn to look at you, but she does kick your boot under the table. You pretend not to notice.

“Wow,” Joyce echoes wryly, flipping a page in her current fantasy novel. There’s some stately prince on the front cover: crown, sword, shield, long flowing hair like a river of white gold.

“I don’t even care that much,” Kimmie realizes as she’s saying it. “I mean, it was nearing its expiration date anyway. I’m going to get back together with Brad, Aegon’s going to presumably resume sleeping his way through Juneau…or maybe try out taking a vow of celibacy, who knows, he’s been very monkish the past few days. He can be fun sometimes, and I like him, and I wish him all the best, but there’s no future for us. I just realized that he’s the first guy who ever broke up with me instead of the other way around. It feels…not great!”

“Congratulations, you’re a mortal,” Joyce says, not looking up from her book.

“So you wouldn’t care if Aegon got with someone else?” Heather asks Kimmie innocently. This time, you kick Heather. She winces but bites back a hiss of pain.

Kimmie considers this, finally taking a swig of her I’m-a-cool-girl-who-likes-hockey-and-trucks beer. “No, probably not.”

I won’t do it, you vow to yourself with false stoicism, imagined iron you wish you were really made of. I won’t date him, I won’t sleep with him, I won’t fall in love with him. And yet part of you already knows it’s too late. Part of you knows this as if it’s been inked to your skin like the scrawled, secret entries of a journal.

Ursa Minor’s front door bangs open, and what you see when you turn to look doesn’t make any sense. Rob and Trent—both dripping wet, their hair plastered flat to their heads, their boots squeaking on the hardwood floor—rush inside. There are shouts and gasps and people leaping up out of their seats to get a better look. Trent is carrying something over one of his lumberjack-broad shoulders. He kneels to throw it down onto the floor. It’s Aegon: limp, bluish, unconscious.

“Someone call somebody!” Trent bellows. He’s staring down at Aegon in panic, in terror, not knowing what to do. Beads of water run down his face. “An ambulance or 911 or a helicopter…or…or somebody!”

“Got it!” Dale says, darting for the phone behind the bar. Kimmie is shrieking. Joyce is trying to calm her down. And by then, you’re on the floor beside Aegon feeling for a pulse on his carotid. He doesn’t have one. He’s cold and he’s silent and he’s medically dead.

“He fell,” Trent says franticly, helplessly. “We were bringing the boat into the harbor and he got tangled in a net and fell overboard. I pulled him out, but he was underwater for a while and we couldn’t…we couldn’t wake him up…”

“Aegon?!” you scream, shaking him, slapping him across his icy, vacant face. “Aegon, wake up, wake up, please wake up!”

Heather is next to you. “What can I do?”

“Help me get his wet clothes off. Hypothermia.”

She yanks at his boots, his socks, his jeans. “You know how to do CPR, right?”

“Yeah, on a dog!” Still, you have to try. How long can he go without a pulse until he’s braindead? Four minutes? Five? The cold might buy him extra time, but not much. Minutes. You rip off his red flannel shirt; buttons go careening across the wet floor. As you place your palms over his heart, you notice—fleetingly, dazedly, like sloshing through a dream—that he has a scattering of scars on his chest, gashes and punctures and knicks…and two tattoos. There is a dragon spiraled around his right collarbone. Just below his left, there are three words written in light, graceful cursive: I’m a killer.

You start chest compressions. How many am I supposed to do on a human? Ten? Twenty? You can’t remember. You’re sobbing; you aren’t sure when that started, but it’s in full force now. Heather mops the tears from your face with her sleeve so you can see.

He’s going to die, you think. He’s going to die lying on the floor of this bar in his boxers, and he will never tell me anything again, and he will never see his family again, and he will never get better. The channel killed Jesse and now it’s killed Aegon too.

“Is he dead?!” Kimmie yelps from across the room. “Please tell me he’s not dead!”

Heather hurls back: “You’re going to be dead if you don’t shut up! Let her work on him!”

You tilt Aegon’s head back, lift his chin, pinch his nose shut. Then you exhale into him. You can taste the dark ancient salt of the sea on his cold lips…but beneath that there is rum as well. He shouldn’t have been drinking that much at work. He doesn’t usually. What’s different? What’s been bothering him? But you think you know the answer to that.

There’s nothing, nothing, nothing…and then Aegon’s chest rises and he rolls onto his side, choking out torrents of seawater and gasping for air. People are cheering and chattering, but you barely hear them.

“Oh my god!” you cry out, and if you were sobbing before now you’re properly bawling, breathless and hysterical. It’s uncontrollable, you can’t seem to stop. You cling to Aegon as he shivers violently and peers around with half-open, profoundly confused blue eyes, warming him with your own body heat, turning his flesh from blue to white to pink.

“Go get coats and stuff to warm him up,” Heather says to Trent, shoving him away. And you do actually need coats…but also, you think, Heather is trying to get rid of her brother. Because it should be obvious to anyone what’s going on here; it should be obvious to anyone that you’re in love with this white-blond man on the floor who not so very long ago was a stranger.

“Hey, hey,” Aegon rasps, pawing clumsily at your face as if to comfort you, almost poking your eyes out in the process. And then he asks, with genuine confusion: “What the hell are you crying about?”

You start laughing, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “You, idiot. I’m crying about you.”

“I’m fine, Appletini,” he croaks. “Shh. Shh. Stop. No crying.”

“I thought you were dead, I thought…I thought…”

“I’m not that easy to kill,” Aegon says, his eyes dipping shut. Outside in the blackness somewhere, there are sirens whirling. Trent returns with an armful of coats and together you pile them on top of Aegon, burying him in a tomb of L.L.Bean and Patagonia and The North Face. “Trust me. I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Obviously, the hospital won’t let Aegon have rum and Cokes. He pushes his morphine button almost constantly, even though the doctors and nurses tell him he’s already maxed out. They began by keeping Aegon overnight for observation, and then he developed pneumonia, and then the first type of antibiotics didn’t work and they had to play roulette until they found one that did. Now it’s a full week later—December 20th—and Aegon is finally feeling like himself again and is due to be released tomorrow. Sunfyre has been staying with you and your parents. He loves it, he gets constant attention and enjoys gazing out the window to see if his new best friend the cow moose will show up. Meanwhile, Trent has convinced his boss Rusty—another high school classmate of your parents, another hulking bearded specimen of the enmeshed Juneau ecosystem—to let Aegon keep his job despite the extended leave; Trent even managed to get Aegon paid time off for the first five days. This is all rather heroic of him. It makes you feel bad for thinking he might be a serial killer. If Trent knows that Aegon was drunk on the job, he hasn’t mentioned it to anybody.

“I got you something,” Aegon tells you when you get off work. It’s just after sunset, the last whisps of pink and lilac dusk vanishing from the sky. Things have been slow at the vet clinic as Christmas draws near, which is good in that you can leave early and visit Aegon more often. It’s bad because you’re less busy, less preoccupied; you have all the time in the world to think about him. Aegon is propped up in bed on pillows—his hair slicked back from his face, his eyes sleepy and racoonish—and wearing a hospital gown that’s too big for him. You can see his collarbones and his tattoos, though you’re trying very hard not to stare, to wonder. He points to the table beside his bed. There’s a bouquet of blue roses lying there.

“For me?!”

“For the person who literally brought me back from the dead? Yeah, I don’t think it’s too extravagant.”

You give him one of the hot chocolates you bought from the hospital cafeteria. It’s not as good as his, obviously, but it’s better than nothing. He clutches the Styrofoam cup with both hands, steam rolling up into his face. He inhales the scent, closes his eyes, sighs deeply with a smile. “I hope they aren’t stolen,” you say about the roses, only half-kidding.

“They’re from the gift shop. I dragged myself down there after lunch. They really weren’t that expensive, I think the cashier gave me a still-attached-to-an-IV discount.”

“Was she cute?”

“She was eighty years old.”

You laugh and sit down in the chair beside his bed, sipping your own hot chocolate: thin, watery, weak. You admire the roses, threading velvety cerulean petals through your fingers. “I love them, really, but I wish you wouldn’t buy things for me. I know you’re chronically short on money. And I am somehow skeptical that you have health insurance. Do you have health insurance?”

He grins toothily. “Nope.”

“Aegon,” you lament.

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll bill me, I’ll never pay, it’s all made up.”

“You might need a halfway decent credit score one day.”

He shakes his head. “I’m never going to try to get a mortgage. I’m never going to apply for a job at a bank or a law firm. I’ll be fine. I’ll live in a tree if that’s what it takes.”

You rest your palm against his cheek and then his forehead, checking for fever. His skin is warm but not hot, pale but not bloodless. You can feel his eyes on you, trying to catch your gaze like a hook through a fish. You avoid them.

“How do I look, vet lady?”

“I’m not really qualified to evaluate humans.”

“I don’t want to get better.”

Now you do stare at him, direct and mystified. “Why?”

“I’m worried you won’t be nice to me anymore.”

You chuckle, relieved. “I’ll still be nice to you, Aegon.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

A nurse pops into the room, young and springy and jovial like a kitten. She must be new; you don’t recognize her, and you’ve been here a lot. “Good afternoon, I’m just swinging by to take your vitals. I see you’re scheduled to go home tomorrow, how exciting!” The nurse squints down at the chart she has pinned to a clipboard. “Aegon…?”

He smirks long-sufferingly. “It’s Greek.”

“It’s lovely!” the nurse recovers. She measures his temperature and heartrate and blood pressure, his reflexes and his oxygenation. He passes all inquiries with flying colors. She congratulates Aegon on his recovery and flits off to tend to more needy patients. You think of the nights you’ve spent curled up in this chair, listening to Aegon’s labored, rattling breathing and watching blooms of flare-hot crimson fever creep across his face. You think of how much it’s going to kill you to lose him someday. You find yourself staring at his tattoos, ink that someone else put there in some other city, remnants of the life he had before.

“You can ask,” Aegon says. “I’m sure you’re wondering.”

You set your hot chocolate on the table and move closer to him, ghosting your fingertips over the words: I’m a killer. He jolts a little, although not in a bad way, not in an unwelcome way. He doesn’t lean away from you. In fact, he leans in. “What’s up with that?”

“Would this be an awkward moment for me to confess that I’m the Ice Fisher?”

You smile. “You have to admit that it’s a little weird. There’s a killer on the loose, you have a tattoo that says you’re a killer, I think any reasonable observer would have questions.”

“Kimmie didn’t.”

“Reasonable observer, I said. Reasonable.”

“It’s not a confession. It’s a Johnny Cash lyric.”

“Really? Which song?” You know a fair amount of Johnny Cash thanks to your dad’s extensive vinyl collection. You skim through his discography in your head: Walk The Line, Ring Of Fire, Get Rhythm, Folsom Prison Blues, I Got Stripes. You can’t remember any of them having that line. It circles around in your skull, only sounding like Aegon’s voice: I’m a killer, I’m a killer.

“I’ve Been Everywhere,” he says. “It’s a cover, actually. Some other guy did it first. But I didn’t know that when I got inked. And I loved Johnny Cash’s version when I heard it. It was like my theme song.”

“Ohhh, right, that’s the one where he lists all the cities he’s been to, like Reno, uh, and Chicago, and, uhhh…”

Aegon sings, deep but hoarse: “Fargo, Minnesota, Buffalo, Toronto, Winslow, Sarasota, Wichita, Tulsa, Ottawa, Oklahoma, Tampa, Panama, Mattawa, La Paloma—” He breaks off with a coughing fit.

“Stop,” you beg, laughing. “Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.” You trace the cursive letters lightly. I’m a killer. I’m a killer. “Kimmie never had questions about that?”

“I don’t think Kimmie really sees me. She just sees adjectives in the shape of my silhouette. But you…” He puts his hand over yours, pinning it to his chest. You can feel his heart under there somewhere, beneath muscles and bones and a pitch-black sea crawling with monsters that have evolved to live in the extreme gravity, in the depths: ghosts of the past and sirens of the future. He smiles. “You see a lot.”

“20/20, baby.” You study his scars. They’re random like a scatterplot, none large enough to appear life-threatening. “How did you get these?”

“Car accident. A long time ago.”

“Before you left Miami?”

He gazes absently out the window, where snow is falling. You can see it drifting down to the earth in the gloomy beams of streetlights. “Yeah.”

Now there are new lyrics bubbling up in your mind, not anything by Johnny Cash but Cake’s The Distance. No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine, he’s haunted by something he cannot define. And perhaps you know something about what that feels like. “Do you really think I’m a coward?” you ask softly. “I know you’re trying not to lie to me. So I’m hoping you’ll tell me the truth. You might be the only person who will.”

Aegon pauses before he answers. “I think a lot of people are cowards in one way or another,” he says diplomatically. “And I think that if that’s your greatest flaw as a human—that you don’t want to disappoint your parents, that you don’t want to hurt them, that you want to repay them for being so wonderful when there are people out there who beat and murder their kids—you turned out alright.”

You think of how easy it would be to rest your head on his bare, scarred chest and let him hold you. You think of how much you want that, want it in a sudden and ravenous and unbearable sort of way. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“No problem, Appletini.”

There is a knock on the door, and you jerk away from Aegon. You pick up your hot chocolate and slurp it as you sink into the chair. Aegon laces his hands together and wrings them. Trent walks in. “Sup, bro?!” he pipes cheerfully.

“Bro,” Aegon offers in return. They bump fists.

“You look like you’re feeling better.”

“I definitely am.”

“Still getting let out tomorrow?”

“Yup. Like a prisoner who made parole. Kimmie already offered to drive me home.” Then he adds: “Platonically.” Kimmie’s the only one in the friend group without a real job. Her parents are both university professors—you aren’t sure how none of the genius chromosomes made their way down the genetic Plinko board to her, but they didn’t—and she gets paid to be their ‘research assistant’…which means she works rarely and with no accountability whatsoever.

Trent’s eyes dart to you, to the blue roses, to you again, finally back to Aegon. He’s beaming, but there’s something hollow about it, like if you struck him across the face it would crack like porcelain. “Flowers, huh? That’s dope.”

“Yeah, I figured it was the least I could do since she saved my life and all.”

“She’s fantastic,” Trent agrees proudly, like he owns you. “In fact, that’s kind of why I’m here.” He turns to you. “I called the house and your parents told me I should check the hospital. I wanted to…you know, now that Aegon’s basically better and we all know he’s not gonna die…I wanted to take you to dinner tomorrow.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, stupidly, like you’re unfamiliar with the concept. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, someplace nice. Candlelight and fancy dessert, the whole deal.”

A date. That’s definitely a date. You stare at Trent. He stares at you. Aegon frowns at you both, pressing his knuckles to his lips. “Dinner,” you say awkwardly, but with more conviction. “Totally. Dinner would be nice.”

“Awesome!” Trent thunders. “I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Sounds good!” you say with overcompensating enthusiasm. Trent swoops in for an unexpected hug—nearly spilling your hot chocolate—and gives Aegon a parting fist bump. Then he’s gone.

“I owe him,” you explain to Aegon, speaking quickly, nervously. “He saved your life, he fished you out of the channel like a goddamn salmon. He’s responsible for you keeping your job. He’s getting you paid time off. He’s been around the hospital a lot this week, he’s been so helpful, selflessly helpful…I can’t just tell him to fuck off after all that.” And then you say: “But it’s only dinner! Only one dinner!”

“Need some condoms?” Aegon teases, trying to make you smile. It works. “I have a box I’m not currently using.”

“I’m on the pill.”

“Good to know.”

“I doubt your condoms are horse-sized anyway.”

“Hey hey hey, it’s not about the number of inches, it’s about how you use them.”

“I’ve heard some very interesting things. About your inches, I mean.”

“Oh no,” he groans, covering his blushing face with his hands.

“I didn’t say bad things. I said interesting things.”

“I wouldn’t mind you knowing from firsthand experience,” he says with a sly little grin you can’t quite read. It’s playful, it’s sharp, it’s baiting, it’s sad.

“About what?”

“About my inches.”

You both burst out laughing, so hard Aegon launches into another coughing fit. You reach for him instinctively, pressing your hand to his chest again as if you can cure him, not a palm reader but a faith healer. A miracle worker. A professional fixer.

“You think it’s safe?” he asks, seriously now. “Dinner, I mean. With Trent.”

“I think he’d have a hard time strangling me in the middle of a crowded restaurant. And everyone’s going to know we’re hanging out together tomorrow night, he’d have to be more than stupid to kill me. He’d have to be all brainstem, like an alligator or a shark. Besides, he doesn’t want me dead.”

“I know. He wants you to be his wife.” There’s nothing to fill the uneasy lull but the pounding of your own heartbeat. “Call me,” Aegon says abruptly. “When you get home tomorrow night. So I know you’re okay.” So I know you didn’t get murdered. So I know you’re not at the bottom of a lake somewhere.

“What if it’s not until really late? I don’t want to disturb you while you’re recovering.”

He looks out the window: into the frigid void, into nothing. “Still call me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Trent takes you to the Red Dog Saloon, Juneau’s idea of fine dining. You intentionally dress to look not-sexy: dark blue flannel (you’ve warmed to the fabric since Aegon wears it so much) with a T-shirt underneath, jeans, boots, minimal makeup, hair in an I-really-don’t-care messy loose braid. Trent doesn’t seem to notice that this isn’t supposed to be a date. He’s wearing a button-up maroon shirt and khakis. He chats away blithely as you survey the menu. He’s had the servers bring out candles to put on the table. He’s ordered craft beers for you both. You wrinkle your nose and shudder after each thick bitter sip, chasing the beer with desperate gulps of water. Whoever owns the Red Dog Saloon does not share Dale’s devotion to Shania Twain and Christmas music; the stereo is playing Savage Garden’s Crash And Burn.

“Ready to order?” the waitress asks, casting former-football-star Trent a flirtatious smile just in case he’s single. He is! you mentally shout, hoping for telepathy. He just doesn’t know it!

“Yeah,” you begin. “I think I’d like to try your brisket—”

“Oh no, no no no,” Trent says with a chuckle. He flips his hair; in your head, you hear a neigh. “They have a great special. Trout with risotto. How fancy is that?! I don’t even know what risotto is! We gotta try that. We gotta make tonight special.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure.” You give the waitress a tight smirk as you hand her the menu. “The trout special. Two of them, I guess.”

“You’ll love it,” the waitress promises, tossing Trent another smile like a penny into a fountain. She takes both menus and disappears into the kitchen.

“So,” Trent says, drinking his beer. “I didn’t know you liked Aegon so much. I thought you kind of hated him, actually.”

You shrug, peering into the foam of your unwanted beer. “I don’t like to see anyone suffering. It doesn’t matter who.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“And you encouraged me to get along with him because you want him to stay in Juneau so he can be in your band.”

“Oh yeah, right. Okay, never mind. I was just…curious.” Another hair flip.

“Look, Trent…” You gather your courage like raking up autumn leaves. “We’re friends, right?”

He chortles. “Well, I’d like to think we’re a lot more than that.”

I bet you would. “But we never…like…we never put a label on it, you know?”

“Do you need a label?” he says. You had worried he might be mad; instead, he’s amused. You aren’t sure why that makes you feel worse. “Is that what makes it official, us using the words boyfriend, girlfriend, relationship, whatever?”

“Maybe those words don’t really apply to us, and that’s why we haven’t used them yet,” you try hopefully. “Like, if we were supposed to date, it would feel more natural for us to date. But maybe it doesn’t feel so natural, so we’re better off staying friends.”

Now he puts his beer down and stares at you. The glass thumps against the glossy wood. He’s bending towards you, though you don’t think he’s even aware of it; he props his elbows on the table, his brow crinkling in bewilderment. And there’s something else in the lines of his face too. Anger. Indignation. Betrayal. “You want to be friends?”

“I didn’t say that,” you amend swiftly. “I just said maybe we’re better off as friends.”

He slaps his palm against the table—you flinch, hating that he has that power over you—and laughs in amazement. “I’m just…well, I’m shocked! You’re fine with kissing me, and watching movies in your bedroom, and hanging out all the time, and getting drinks together and playing pool and showing me off to your parents, but you’re horrified by the thought of calling it dating?! You’re too much, ladybug. You’re really too much.”

He's going to pretend he doesn’t see that I want out. And he’s going to keep pretending until he’s on his knees with a fucking ring from Zales. “I don’t think I’m looking for a relationship right now, Trent. With anyone.” Oh, and that’s such a goddamn lie.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He studies you; but that’s too kind a word for it. His eyes flay you down to the bone. “I’m a good guy, you know.”

“I know,” you lie, nodding agreeably.

“You’re not eighteen anymore,” he says. “It’s not like you have forever to find someone to settle down with. I go to work, I’m popular, I’m presentable, I care about you, I take you on dates, I move your furniture around whenever you fucking ask me to, I’m a good guy. I get that maybe this is progressing a little fast for you, and we can slow down if that’s what you want. But I think it would be pretty stupid to give something like this up. Don’t you?”

It doesn’t sound like a question. It sounds like a threat. Don’t you? Don’t you? “You’re right, Trent,” you hear yourself say, like it’s someone else’s voice. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

The waitress arrives with your dinner and—not so subtly—slips Trent her number. He makes a great show of ripping it up in front of you. The trout and risotto thing is great, actually. It’s not what you walked in wanting, but it turned out just fine. And maybe that’s what the rest of your life will be like too: other people making choices, you hoping you’ll like the taste.

After dinner and dessert—a Baked Alaska, another of Trent’s suggestions that are more like nonnegotiables—he drives you home in his massive rumbling truck. You talk innocuously about your vet clinic clients, dogs and cats and hamsters and reindeer, until you roll to a stop in front of your parents’ house. You begin your goodbye, opening the truck door. Cold December air floods in.

“Okay Trent, thank you for a lovely night—” He cuts you off with a kiss he didn’t ask for, a hand on your face that feels hot and smothering. You’re so stunned it takes you a few seconds to try to push him away. He ignores you until you shove him so hard he can’t pretend not to notice.

“What are you so worried about?” he demands, he implores, like he’ll fix anything if you just name it, like he’ll strike the nails with his bare hands. But he can’t fix what’s wrong. What’s wrong is that I’m in love with Aegon Targaryen. “Are you scared I’ll be bored of you once you give it all up? Are you worried about getting pregnant? Aren’t you on the pill? I saw the pack in your bedroom.”

You’re nauseated that he noticed, that he’s imagined you like that: naked, compliant, vulnerable. “Yes, Trent, but that’s for me, not for you.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

You tell him the truth. Not the whole truth—not enough to enrage him—but the crux of it: the spine, the heart. “I always thought I knew exactly what my life was going to look like, but now I’m…I’m…”

“Well this is what comes next, right?” Trent says. “You check the boxes for school and work, and then it’s time to settle down. Get married, buy a house, have kids. I’m ready to give you that. I want to give you that. Don’t you want it too?”

Aegon is going to leave, you think with steel-cold dread. Sooner or later, he’ll disappear to start over again in some anonymous new city. And what will my life look like then? What will I have when he’s gone? “I guess I just need some more time to figure things out.”

Trent nods, his jaw clenched tight, looking out into the darkness through his windshield. “I’m not criticizing you for waiting. I’m just wondering what the hell you’re waiting for.”

Inside the house is hushed and empty; your parents are enjoying a night out with your dad’s bowling league. They even took Sunfyre with them. You drag yourself upstairs, each step a mile. You brush your teeth—twice—to get the taste of Trent and craft beer out of your mouth. And then you stand in your bedroom surrounded by posters and magazines, surrounded by fantasies that you will never wrap your hands around. You glance at the box full of Jesse’s journals; you can see the cardboard edge of it poking out from beneath your bed. He’s gone, and he wasn’t perfect, in fact in many ways he was a curse, was a plague, was a monster. But I think my mom would give anything for one more day with him. After all these years, I still think she would.

The blue roses Aegon gave you are in a vase on your nightstand, right next to the phone. They’re already dying. And now your throat is burning, and your eyes are wet with tears, and when defenseless sobs rip from your chest there is no one here to hear them. I don’t want to protect myself from what it would have been like with him. I want to know.

You snatch up the phone, find the Post-it note with Aegon’s number written on it, call him before you have time to change your mind. When he answers, it’s clear you woke him up. His voice is slow and groggy. “Hello?”

“Can I come over?”

“Huh…?”

“Can I please come over? I need to come over. I need to come over right now.”

Now he’s awake. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m at home, I’m fine, I’m safe, I just…I just…” You swipe the tears from your eyes and take a long, trembling breath. “I just need to come over.”

“No problem,” Aegon says. He is puzzled, he is concerned…but you think a part of him is glad too. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

You drive your Jeep to his apartment building and park it—badly, crookedly, like he would—under a streetlight. The night is fiercely, brutally cold when you dive out into it. The full moon is an island; the indigo, star-flecked sky is an ocean deep with secrets and bones and wreckage, splinters of swallowed lives dissolving into the blue. Upstairs, Aegon’s door is already unlocked. He’s wearing a black Nirvana T-shirt and green flannel pajama pants, his hair disheveled. He’s also making hot chocolate.

“Hi,” he says casually, filling the mugs. He adds splashes of French vanilla coffee creamer—plus some 99 Whipped for his green mug—and swirls of whipped cream, then shaves on a generous dusting of Hershey’s chocolate. He gives you the blue mug. You take it in quivering hands. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m amazing.”

“Okay.” He waits, patient and watchful, sipping his hot chocolate.

You feel better after a few minutes tick by. Aegon’s apartment is serene and still. The tv is dark; there’s no music, no voices, no distractions. You can barely hear the screech of the Arctic wind outside. The only light turned on is the one in the kitchen; the rest of the apartment is shadows. The hot chocolate is warm, rich, comforting, safe. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty great,” Aegon replies. “Normal.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.” He gazes at you, still waiting.

You finish your hot chocolate and put the mug in the kitchen sink. You take your hair out of your braid and shake it loose, surveying his apartment with aimless steps: his couch, his guitar, his litany of refrigerator magnets, his unmade bed. Aegon sets his mug down on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Appletini,” he says. “Why are you here?”

You turn back to him, but you can’t find your words. It’s on your face, it has to be; it’s in a language Aegon can speak fluently. You see the understanding flicker in his eyes like firelight: sudden, bright, exhilarated.

“Say it,” he prompts. “You have to say it, or I’m not going to believe you.”

You try, you really do try. But you can’t get the words to leave your lips. You don’t know how to put what you want from him into words at all. Anything, everything.

He smiles, softly like a whisper. “Me first, huh?” Then he begins undressing. He yanks his Nirvana T-shirt over his head—further tangling his hair—and tosses it across the room. He slips off his pajama pants, and then his boxers too. He’s standing there in the florescent kitchen light, flesh and ink and track marks and scars. “Okay, your turn. If you’re still interested.”

“I want you to do that part.”

He crosses the scuffed hardwood floor, his footsteps quiet. His fingers find the top button of your flannel shirt. His eyes are fixed on yours as he unhooks the first button, another, another after that. He leans in to press his lips to your throat, just beneath your jaw. Slowly, exquisitely slowly, he kisses his way down to your collarbone as he unfastens the rest of the buttons and gently pulls off your shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He slips his hands below the hem of the T-shirt you’re wearing underneath and lifts it away, his knuckles grazing your belly, your waist, your ribs, the lace of your bra. And then he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you with exceptional, reverent slowness, like you’re something that could shatter. You can’t reconcile this man with the sort of wild acrobatics that Kimmie had described. And then you’re not thinking about Kimmie at all. The past is a black hole, the future is an empty sky. There’s no room in this lightning-brief sliver of eternity for anyone else.

You breathe him in: sweetness, warmth, the bite of alcohol, fire and shadows and light. He unbuttons your jeans, unzips them, kneels down to peel them off of you. He touches his lips to your thigh—first the outside, then the downy-soft inside—and hesitates for a moment before he stands to kiss your lips again. His hands skim across your bare back towards the clasp of your bra, raising goosebumps like twilight stars. And then again, he hesitates. His hands come back to your face, his fingertips calloused but lithe.

“You’re nervous,” you murmur, smiling. You tuck his escaped lock of hair behind his ear, pressing yourself against him: hips, chest, soul. The sapphire blue lace of your bra and panties rustles across his skin. You can’t get close enough to him; it’s not possible, it’s not fathomable. He’s holding himself back, you can tell. He’s panting with the effort. In the midnight silence, you can hear every sound he makes with crystalline clarity. The moonlight pours in, painting you both in ghostly silver light.

Aegon chuckles shakily. “I am,” he admits.

“I think you’ve done this once or twice before.”

“Yeah, but not with you.”

“I want this,” you say, your lips to the curl of his ear. His skin is hot with eager, rushing blood. “And I want you to be the one to set me free.”

Something snaps in him, something breaks like a wave. Your bra tumbles to the floor, your panties are whisked away, you and Aegon are on the bed together tangled up like arteries flush with life. There is a breathless sort of desperation in it: in the way your fingers intertwine, in his gasps and your moans, in the sustained pleasure—so intense it borders on pain—that causes euphoric tears to spring up in your eyes, in his deep, startlingly powerful thrusts that begin slowly and then build to a furious rhythm. And you know then that he agrees, it’s not possible to ever get close enough to each other; but still, you resolve to try.

“Look at me, baby,” Aegon whispers as you arch into him and you beg him not to stop, his palm turning your face towards his. “Look at me, look at me, look at me…”

You unravel like thread torn from a spool until its empty, like a mystery, like stitches clipped from a healed wound. There’s an insurmountable sort of peace that follows it. Nothing is okay, and yet everything is, and you can conjure up no words but only colors: the white of snow, the indigo of the night sky, the gold of the rare unclouded midday sun, the ethereal green-violet glow of the Northern Lights. Aegon empties himself inside you, crying out and kissing the side of your face over and over again, tasting heat and salt and your unnamed love for him. You can feel the serenity settling over him as if it’s your own pulse slowing, your own mind cleared like the horizon after a storm. You are irredeemably etched into each other. You are two sides of the same coin: too weightless, too rooted, unable to leave, unable to stay.

As you lay side by side in the moonlight, your fingers tangled in his hair, Aegon says: “You are the only thing that’s ever made me want to stop running.”

“You could stay. I want you to stay.”

“For a while.” He pulls you against him. You rest your head on his chest: ink, scars, slow thudding heartbeat. His fingertips draw invisible paths up the length of your spine. “Not forever. But for a while.”

She’s hoping in time that her memories will fade.

“I don’t want to have to forget you,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“Not yet,” Aegon vows. It’s the only promise he can make. He kisses your forehead, sweeping the tears from your cheeks with his hands. “Not yet.”

#aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

Text

under the mistletoe // alexander albon

summary: alex has the perfect answer to his girlfriend's seasonal sadness: keeping things festive and decorating the entire house, with a little bit of help from the cats, of course!

pairing: alex albon x female reader ( grumpy x sunshine! )

warnings: *sparkles* seasonal depression *sparkles*, alex being the bestest boyfriend in the world, cats trying to play with christmas ornaments, bad mariah carey-oke, alex thinking he's doing a proper striptease but really he's just making a fool out of himself but he manages to be sexy anyways :), daddy used in a non-sexual content (because alex is being a cat dad)

author's note: seasonal affective disorder is a bitch. why must i be unreasonably sad when it gets cold outside, huh? anyways, i think my mood would greatly improve if i had an alex albon, and that is all for today.

the bed was empty when she woke up, alex's side of the sheets still warm as she rolled over, burrowing further under the festive throw blanket that alexander had gotten down from the closet the previous afternoon. she dreaded leaving her bed, for reasons that she couldn't explain.

she didn't even want to look out the window, knowing that all she would see was the sad, bleak excuse of a british winter. if she was lucky, it would be dry outside. if she wasn't, it would either be damp as hell, or the saddest snowfall she had ever seen.

she could hear alex moving around downstairs, and she could smell breakfast wafting up from the kitchen. still unable to bring herself to leave the warmth of her bed, she curled up in the remnants of her lover's body heat, cocooning herself in the festive blankets as she tried to have a few more moments of peace.

there was s oft knock at the bedroom door, followed by the telltale added weight of a cat plodding across the bed before horsey nuzzled in to her chest, alex following closely behind with a mug of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and chocolate sauce.

"what's this for?" y/n asked, trying to sit up without disturbing the cat that seemed determined to make a home on her boobs.

alex sat down next to her on the bed, kissing her softly before he passed her the mug. "i know how you get when it gets cold, love. you've seemed. . .off, the past few days. i don't like seeing you like this."

she took a sip of the hot chocolate, just the perfect temperature. "thanks for being here, alex." she reached across horsey, who was mewling softly as he stretched his paws, still spread out across y/n's lap, so she could take alex's hand in hers. "sorry for bringing down the holiday spirit."

the williams driver shook his head, reaching to comb his lover's hair behind her ear. "darling, you're not ruining anything."

"i just know that you wanted to start getting all the christmas stuff out, and i'm not exactly in the mood to do that right now."

"that's okay, y/n. really. we don't have to do all of the decorating today, but i thought a little bit of festivity might help cheer you up a little. it worked last year, didn't it?"

she laughed, a small smile forming on her face. "what, you mean watching you and charles sing the justin bieber christmas album at george's holiday party? babes, that would put a smile on anybody's face."

"look at that, you're smiling already!" alex beamed, proud of himself for cheering up the light of his life, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. "breakfast is ready. i'll be downstaris when you're ready. take all the time that you need, love." he got up from the bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before silently slipping out of the bedroom and gently pulling the door shut behind him.

she stayed in bed for a few minutes longer, cuddling the cat in front of her and finishing off the hot chocolate alex had made her. the first winter that they had spent together, she had been a bitch because of her seasonal depression. alex was a little shocked at first, worried that he had done something wrong when his girlfriend was suddenly quieter, bags appearing under her eyes. and once he found out about her disorder, he had done piles of research into how best for both of them to cope with it together.

when alexander found out that chocolate released happiness hormones, he took it upon himself to make sure that y/n was given at least one hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate suace every morning before she went to work (against patrick's better judgement, of course, with the performance coach suggesting that alex's master plan might also have been a way for alex to smartly get around the diet plan that he was on for training reasons).

it was something they were both getting used to, the seasonal sadness hovering over the two of them with each holiday season. but they were learning how to work around it, to work together. at the beginning of the year, around january when the winter was a little harsher than normal, and it was a little darker outside, y/n had impulsively dyed the money piece in her hair deep red, an endeavor that she thought would keep the sunday scaries away for a little longer. a decision that ultimately resulted in alexander also changing his hair to match. they'd walked into the paddock in march with bright smiles and matching hairstyles.

last christmas, y/n found that keeping her attention focused on the holiday spirit had been a welcome respite from her usual seasonal funk. because how can you be sad when buddy the elf is on your tv screen? alex had been an angel, organizing regular holiday movie marathons, sometimes roping in the other divers and their girlfriends.

she's never laughed as hard as she had after watching lando norris' impression of bruce willis' 'die hard' character. not shockingly at all, lando also thinks that 'die hard' is a christmas movie, a fact that y/n wholly disagrees with.

she slowly got out of bed, trying not to disturb horsey. it was a futile task, with the cat jumping off the bed and following her as she made her way to the walk in closet. alex had the closet put in just for her, or so he had always claimed, but his clothes took up a little more of the closet than hers did. one wall was covered with a floor-to-ceiling mirror, polariods of the couple taped to the mirror's reflective surface.

she got dressed, lifting the cat into her arms and scratching him under the chin as she made her way downstairs, where alex was humming along to taylor swift's rendition of 'santa baby', unpacking a box of christmas decorations and trying to stop the two cats by his feet from playing with the balls on the end of the santa hats he was holding.

"these aren't toys, gucci." the brit insisted, pulling the velvet hat over his scalp, the ball at the end resting on his shoulder. the hat was royal blue, a gift from the team when they had filmed their secret santa video back in abu dhabi. "but doesn't daddy look great in it?"

y/n laughed, looking down at the cat in her arms. "i think that your dad should a) stop referring to himself as 'daddy', because it's just weird and neither of us are into that, and b) should stop referring to himself in the third person. again, just weird."

"you're no fun. you hear that, goose? your mother thinks i'm weird?"

they held their straight faces for a minute before they both burst out laughing, horsey pawing at y/n's arm as he begged to join goose and gucci on the floor.

some days, y/n thought that alex took the cat parent thing a little far, especially when he referred to himself as 'daddy', but she understood why. alex wanted a family one day, three little kids running around. but they were both still young, with so much life to live before kids even came into the conversation. right now, the plethora of cats owned by the albon siblings was enough. seriously, who needs twelve cats?

"i'm glad you came to join me." alex said, eyes full of nothing but love as he held his lover close, his warm hands a reassuring presence on her waist. "you're just in time to watch me set up the tree."

"oh sweet jesus." she laughed, resting her forehead against his. "that's a four person job, alex."

alexander knew what he was doing. he knew that he would struggle with the tree, and he knew it would be hilarious, because he could make just about anything in this world amusing.

and his only goal for the day was to make y/n smile.

"sit down and have breakfast, then put your feet up and watch the show." alex insisted, taking her hand and leading her to the table "oh, and i have something for you!"

he came back moments later with another santa hat in his hands, which he tossed at y/n. "come on, try and be a little festive today. for me?"

"you're lucky i think you're hot." she chuckled, shaking her head as she pulled on the hat. "are you absolutely certain that you don't need help with the tree?"

"i'm fine!" alex replied, opening the large box as the song on the radio changed over, a ditzy nineties pop cover of 'christmas wrapping'.

"is this the spice girls?"

"is it?"

"um yeah. you should know, you worked for ginger spice's husband for what, a season and a half?"

alex laughed, beginning to set up the large tree. it was seven feet tall, with lights pre installed. no ornaments were ever hung on the bottom of the tree, because last year the cats had decided to play netball with the jack skellington ornament and almost brought the whole tree down.

"i'm just messing, babe! of course i know it's the spice girls!"

she picked away at the pancakes and powdered sugar with nutella that alex had made, laughing at the driver's attempts to assemble the varying parts of the christmas tree. for every little struggle, or moment where the expanding tree branches hit him in the face, or the moments where it looked like the entire tree was going to come down on him, she offered to help, constantly getting shot down.

she appreciated that alex was attempting to do everything himself out of respect for her boundaries and not wanting to push her if she wasn't in the mood, but alexander albon had a way of cheering her up with the smallest of actions. like trying to put up the christmas tree.

"alex, stop trying to stop me from helping. you're going to trip over one of the cats." y/n laughed, getting up from the kitchen table to rush over and help alex with the top piece of the tree, standing on a chair to help him slide the piece into place.

she connected the wire for the lights together before stepping down and putting and arm around alex's waist, her head on his shoulder.

"the living room looks much better with the tree, doesn't it?"

alex kissed her forehead softly. "feeling better?"

"much. thank you." she turned her head slightly, pressing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his soft, warm lips. "have you opened the ornament box yet?"

"i was waiting for you, love. ready to decorate?"

"more than ready."

they got to work, unwrapping ornaments and feeding christmas tree hooks through the loops at the top, starting their decorating spree at least halfway up the tree so that the cat's wouldn't have anything to play with that could wreck the tree. y/n was putting a scale model ornament of alex's 2022 williams car on the tree when a very familiar song began playing, coupled with alex's off-key singing.

"i don't want a lot for christmas, there is just one thing i need."

when she trurned around, she couldn't stop herself from laughing at her boyfriend, who was using the star that adorned the top of the tree as a microphone.

"come on, darling! i know you knoe the words!"

"fat chance, alex. i don't sing, remember?" she laughs as goose and horsey meow in discontent before diving underneath the couch. "and it looks like the cats aren't big fans either."

"you know you love it." alex grinned, reaching for her hand as the chorus began to ring out.

"yeah, yeah i do." she grinned, singing along at a much quieter volume, a bright smile on her face.

alex beamed back. he was always so proud of himself when he made her smile. they were the living embodiment of the grumpy x sunshine trope that y/n adored so much, and he was more than happy to bring the sunshine into her life.

the tree was done, the maine's 'santa stole my girlfriend' playing softly as the duo played rock paper scissors to decide who got to put the star at the top of the tree. y/n won, alex securely clutching her waist as she stood on the kitchen chair to reach the top branches.

"babes, i'm fine." she chuckled, looking at the look of pure concentration that alex had on his face.

"nonsense. i'm supposed to look out for you, you know? alicia and my mother wouldn't be very happy with me if i let you fall off a chair trying to put the star on the tree."

she took a moment to grin before double checking that the star was on securely. "right, love, can you turn the lights on?"

alex flicked the tree lights on as y/n stepped off the chair, the entire room feeling a little more shiny and bright form the rainbow array of lights. the display even enticed all three cats back into the living room.

three cats who were promptly disappointed at the lack of ornaments they could play with.

"merry christmas, baby." alex said softly, kissing his girlfriend in the shadow of the tree. "i love you."

"alex, it is november."

"never too early to be festive!" alex insisted. "go sit on the couch, love. let me do something for you."

"oh god." y/n laughed to herself, making herself comfortable on the couch as one of the cats came to join her, curling into her side in a futile mission for body heat.

when alex came back, the top three buttons on his shirt had been undone, the flashing bluetooth speaker in his hand. he placed the speaker down on the table, music beginning to play as alex started to dance, swaying his hips and shoulders in a way that he thought was seductive.

he had watched hours of magic mike clips on youtube, as well as the sexy santa competition scene in bad moms christmas in preperation for this moment.

and the shitty dancing and gyrating and stripteasing was all worth it when he watched the way her face scunched up when she laughed, or the way that she glowed when she smiled.

"alex, baby, what the hell are you doing?" she managed to say through laughter.

"making my beautiful girlfriend smile." he laughed, taking off the santa hat and throwing it in her direction.

y/n just laughed, reaching to cover gucci's eyes, muttering something about how the poor cat didn't have to watch his dad embarrass himself like that.

"come on, it has to be at least a little bit sexy." alex insisted, extending his hand for y/n to take.

she took his larger hand in her smaller one, laughing as she allowed the driver to pull her off the couch so they could dance together.

a dance that ended with alex carrying her back upstairs over his shoulder in a cloud of giggles and laughter. the pair would not emerge from the bedroom for another hour and a half, time that the cats spent plotting the best way to get to the ornaments on the tree.

Tags: @daydreamingleclerc @magnummagnussen @flannel-cures @sidcrosbyspuck @diorleclerc @libraryofloveletters

#alex albon #alex albon x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #alexander albon x reader #the christmas collection 2022

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sevarix-blogs · 1 year

Note

16th of the Lone Moon. Sunny, with nary a cloud on the horizon.

As you join me to sit beneath the gazebo in the airy courtyard I slide a delicate china cup across the table. Finely frothed ceremonial matcha with just enough milk added to colour the drink a lovely shade of green matching enlightened Byleth's hair*. I give you a moment to take the first sip before delivering my poignant opener.

"Cats…"

A dissonant note plays. You appear displeased and move to pack up your things. This is my last activity point and I need one more Charm to recruit Hilda, so I hurriedly smash LR+-.

The scene resets. I offer you another cup of tea, this time a subtle honeyed-lavender blend. For my second try, I deign to consult my notes, in which I have listed a number of conversational tips, tricks, and topics with which to carry out an exemplary and completely normal social interaction.

Molly…**

Hopes for your future…

Yuri…

The opera…

The conversation is wildly engaging! Emboldened by my success, I lean forward and adjust the zoom on my primary lenses until they reach their full 8.0x capacity, protruding several inches from my head. You laugh nervously. Not to worry! I am merely observing - respectfully, of course!

I Tease. You look displeased. I Joke. You look displeased. Desperately, I Nod. To this, you pump your fist and smartly rejoinder, "Still fighting the good fight?"***.

Alas, the day grows long and there are tasks to complete. I retract my lenses and stand to go.

*I am unsure a matcha of this colour would actually be a good matcha. **I wrote this before you actually answered the ask. She is not there :C I ask anyway. **A real quote Catherine says when you Nod at her in Three Hopes.

I drink the tea happily, wondering why you have a conspicuous notepad in front of you. But then I hear a name that makes me perk up.

MOLLY

"She is the best girl," I reply. "Recently though she has been scared of bugs in the house. It is distressing."

You nod. I sip my tea.

"Hopes for the future..." you say.

"I hope Molly feels better soon," I reply. "I also hope work continues to go well. And I hope that the laws in my land do not force me to move. But that's a rather depressing topic."

You nod again, frantically looking down at the notepad. "Yuri..." you say.

"OMG I LOVE YURI SO MUCH," I reply. "He is my blorboest blorbo."

You nod sagely.

"I was just looking at art of him again. Art I commissioned of him! "

You click the link. You are amazed. Then you look at the notepad again. "The opera..."

"I need to go again," I reply. "it's been too long since I've gone to the opera. I love opera! They're doing Carmen this season. I should go."

You nod again. Then you get out a lens and point it at my face. You look at it incredibly closely:

(yes this is a real picture of my face very close up)

You do a few actions that displease me. Then you nod. I eventually say "Still fighting the good fight?" because I heard someone say that once and wanted to try it out. I'm still confused as to why you are zoomed in on my face.

Then you suddenly retract your lens and stand. I thank you for the tea and watch you go.

I sit there and wonder if I got a good score in Social Interactions which is something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

(lol ty friend this was fun)

#asks #tea time roleplay

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i-miss-lotor · 9 months

Text

I posted this on ao3 before but I reread it and I really wish Crowley and Gabriel to find happiness and I love the idea that they find it together so Im reposting it here too.

"You run away," Crowley said with a drink in his hand. He wasn't sure how he ended up with an archangel in a bar. He didn’t even know how they became… acquaintances. Because they weren't friends, not really. Angels and demons were never friends.

Gabriel glanced his way before he went back to play with the little umbrella in his own drink.

"I did," he said.

"How did you do it?" Crowley asked. Gabriel shrugged.

"How do you do anything?" Then his face changed into something more serious and somber, yet still tried to maintain his easy-going attitude. "I just realized that they won't change. And that I don’t have to take it anymore. I mean, after spending a millenia with them, I think I earned a vacation."

Crowley slightly nodded and took a gulp of his scotch. Gabriel wasn't wrong. He probably would have left after all that too, they sounded insufferable. Angels always had a stick up their asses, he couldn’t imagine them as a fun bunch. Most of them weren't, anyway.

"I think," Gabriel said, looking at Crowley again," you deserve one, too."

He snorted softly, "Hell would fall apart without a ruler."

"And?"

Crowley stopped and met Gabriel's eyes.

"What do you mean, 'and'? It's Hell."

"Exactly, it's hell . Do you even like it? All those whiney demons and the paperwork? Doesn't sound very enjoyable."

"It's Hell," Crowley repeated. "It's not supposed to be 'enjoyable'."

"I'm just saying, if you are the King of Hell, you're supposed to have more fun with it, you know? You're the torturer, not the torturee."

He didn't answer. Gabriel was right in a sense, but then again…

"Someone has to keep them at bay. They would be a pain in the ass otherwise."

"They already are. And does it have to be you? Don't you have dreams?"

At this, Crowley let out a wry laugh. Dreams? Who did Gabriel think he was? Crowley was a lowlife demon, the bane of every creature he met. Dreams, right.

"No, I don't have dreams," he ended with. Nothing manageable at least, he added to himself.

"Why not?"

"Why should I? I have everything I'd ever want."

"I doubt that."

Crowley chuckled, "Enlight me then."

Gabriel smirked and shook his head.

"I'm just saying, depression doesn't suit you," he said. If Crowley found the situation entertaining before, it certainly stopped now.

"I'm perfectly fine where I am, thank you," he said, turning back to his drink to finish it.

"Oh I'm sure you are," Gabriel said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just like I was when I was still at home, trying to mediate between my father and my brothers so we can have just one peaceful family dinner. Which never worked, by the way."

"I'm not you."

"No, you aren't," Gabriel agreed, "but that doesn’t mean we don't don't have some similar experiences. Hey, I'm not saying that everything is funky-dory after I left. They are my family and I miss them. However, it is better. There are no rules and you cannot imagine how much quieter it is."

Crowley didn't finish his drink. He didn’t even take a sip, opting to mindlessly slosh it around in the glass instead.

He kind of hated Gabriel at the moment. It was a sour topic and the archangel refused to let it go because he was a prick. Because he wanted to help, perhaps.

He could admit to himself that he did despise his job. Those backstabbing demons. Crowley tried, honest to God, to make Hell better. To have some order in it and that maybe, just maybe, to make it more pleasurable for their kind because even for demons it was a fucking terrible place.

And he failed, time and time again. He wanted to give up, sure. But he couldn't.

"Would you rather Asmodeus control them?"

Gabriel froze. Crowley almost regretted his words but demons don't have feelings, so. It was still a low blow though.

"Didn’t think so," he said after the silence. He drank what was left, put his empty glass down and stood up with a sigh, adjusting his suit. "Well, I'd say this was a nice chat but it wasn’t. Goodbye, Gabriel."

Before he could teleport himself away though, the angel found his voice.

"He's dead though, isn't he? I killed him. But if I didn't, the boys would have offed him sooner or later, I'm sure. They found a way to kill Abbadon too, after all."

"With my help."

"Yes," Gabriel nodded, then turned around in his chair to face him. "Did they thank you?"

Crowley's muscles jerked. Gabriel noticed.

"Didn’t think so. They never do, so why bother?"

"And how exactly are they relevant?"

"Because you are doing this for them. Because you think it's better the evil you know than the evil you don’t. Because, to a degree, you care for them. And I understand," he added, before Crowley could interrupt. "They have a certain charm that just convinces you to help them and fall for them a little. Been there, done that. But what do they give you in return?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm fond of those little chucklefucks but their biggest concerns are each other. Sure, they will soften up eventually but when will they see us as someone trustworthy? As family? Never."

"Because," Gabriel continued, "we want that, right? Someone who cares for us as they do to each other?"

Crowley didn't need to listen to this. He should just snap his fingers and get back to his throne and treat himself.

He didn’t move. Gabriel did instead, standing up.

"They are humans and they feel emotions so deeply, they are absolutely infuriating and devastatingly wonderful. And maybe they will look at us as friends, eventually. But they won't count us in their family. What they need is help from someone stronger than they are and when we did what they asked, they wouldn't need us anymore. So I ask again: did they ever thank you?"

They did. Crowley was sure they did. Once, at least. He just couldn’t remember when it was, not now, when Gabriel was looking at him like that.

"Your point?" Crowley finally asked.

"My point," Gabriel said, stepping closer. "My point is that you could do better. What do you want to do?"

What did he want to do, indeed.

"Earth is nice. Nicer than Hell," he said mindlessly.

"It is."

"I could close the gates."

"Which ones?"

"Hell. I could close the gates of Hell," Crowley said, pondering. He was the king, after all.

Gabriel smirked at him.

"I guess you found something you want then? Shut down Hell and live on Earth happily ever after?"

"Maybe." Crowley paused, glanced at Gabriel, measuring him up, then he spoke again. "Interested?"

He hated how Gabriel's mischievous and bright expression sparked something in him. He was preparing for another disappointment, he just knew. It happened countless times before.

"I'm always up to cause some trouble," Gabriel said with a happy grin.

Crowley's lips quirked up. He held out his hand, and Gabriel didn't even hesitate before he took it.

Well. One more time, then. He would try one more time and hope that this one will be it. He felt good about it.

#spn #supernatural #spn crowley #spn gabriel #crowriel #gabriel x crowley #my writing #crowley x gabriel

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hertzwritings · 2 years

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An Arrangement, chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Whole Wide World

A/N: I’m truly sorry I’ve been AWOL for so long, BUT in my defense, life happened, I had a kid, started school again and ran headfirst into postpartum depression, anxiety and OCD. It’s been a fun year!

Anyway, without further ado, here’s chapter 2 to An Arrangement - if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

ASK ME ANYTHING

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Pairings: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of smut, Henry being Henry

Chapter 2: The Whole Wide World

“So, let me get this straight…” You started after what felt like a bucket of coffee and half a tub of aspirin. Henry took a sip of his coffee.

“You need me… To pretend to be your girlfriend… For what, six months? To avoid scandals? Because you’re human and had sex?” Henry lifted an eyebrow and smirked slightly, but nodded. You sighed and leaned back in the soft chair in his living room, before looking around yet again, clutching your coffeecup in your hand, trying to steady yourself to something slightly more real than Henry Cavill in front of you in sweatpants.

The apartment was gorgeous. Light and airy, with soft and beautiful furniture, that somehow didn’t really fill up the space - the apartment seemed like it wasn’t really lived in. The only thing that made it seem like an actual home, was Kals foodbowl and his various toys strewn across the several rooms.

You glanced at Henry. He looked stoic and apprehensive, almost sizing you up. He seemed too still, like he was expecting a bomb to go off at any time, and he was staring at a point somewhere over your head while scratching Kals ear.

“How would it work, even?” You asked. “We barely know each other…” He lifted his eyebrow. “Oh, I’d say we know each other pretty intimately.” You rolled your eyes. “Okay, we don’t know anything about each other. How would this work?”

He sat his cup down on the dark, wooden table next to his chair and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, before looking back up at you.

“Listen, I know this is not exactly an ideal situation. If I could, I’d take it back… Well, not all of it…” He winked at you. “But it’s entirely unfair that you are being dragged into this because of me. I’m not sure how it would work, but I suspect you probably need to join me on press tours, red carpets… Maybe we have a few outings?” He shifted his weight a little.

“I can pay you. I feel awful about this.” You scrunched your nose. It didn’t feel right being paid for spending time with him.

“No, you don’t have to pay me.” You sighed and sat your now cold coffee on the table in front of you and shifted a little in your seat.

“I know this is not ideal. I just… God, I’m so sorry Y/N.” He ruffled his hair and closed his eyes, looking absolutely defeated. It sealed the deal for you. He looked lost and alone, and you were having none of it. You stood up and with a few steps, you were in front of him. His eyes were still closed, and you drew a deep breath before crouching down in front of him.

“Henry. Look at me.” You gently placed your hand on his knee and he slowly opened his eyes. You didn’t notice how blue they were last night, and you noticed his brown spot - his eyes were beautiful. Just like the rest of him. In any case, you’d be happy to look at that face for a few months. “I’ll do it. No payment, okay? I don’t have anything better to do, anyway, and it would be a fun adventure. Going on a red carpet? Spending time out of my crappy apartment? Hell, yeah, I’d love to!” You smiled cautiously at him. He searched your face carefully, looking for any signs of dishonesty before cracking a slight smile.

“You sure?” You nodded.

“I’ve got one condition tough.” His face flashed with insecurity.

“You have to order food for me right now. I’m starving.” He grinned.

“You got it.”

It seemed somewhat effortless to spend time with Henry. He was very sweet and open, although there was a slight air of awkwardness around the two of you.

He was nice. He talked about his job (although you already knew pretty much everything already), his life back in England, his family and his hobbies, which included...

“Dude, no way you’re building your own. You’re a superstar, why don’t you just buy it?” You snatched a french fry from his plate. He grinned at you.

“I’m just saying, it’s more gratifying that way. I get to decide how it’s done, when it’s done and what’s on there.” You rolled your eyes playfully and crossed your legs.

You were sitting on the floor, snuggling with Kal, who apparently had taken a liking to you, eating french fries and relaxing. The hangover was gone, but you didn’t really want to leave quite yet, finding Henry more and more interesting the longer you talked to him.

You put your hands up in the air.

“Alright, your computer, your time, I suppose.” He laughed, and it made your stomach feel warm - damn, he really was charming.

“Anyway, what do you do? I am really sorry, I didn’t get to ask you when we met… I was slightly preoccupied.” He winked at you, and a flash of a memory of his breath fanning your neck, while he pistoned in and out of you. You clenched your thighs and willed your brain to let that particular memory go way, way back in your brain.

“Uhm, currently? Nothing.” You rubbed your neck slightly. “I was in school, studying drama and literature, but the tuition…” You shook your head and shot him a smile. “Doesn’t really matter. I found a job in a bookshop and I love it. Casual, relaxing and I’m surrounded by books. Nothing better really.” He smiled.

“Ah, may I guess?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Be my guest.”

He folded his hands in his lap and searched your face with an intensity that made you blush.

“I believe you’re a Brontë-fan. I’d venture Jane Eyre is well worn in your home, and…” He looked at your lips for a fraction of a second. Images of his lips on yours flashed by. “I do believe you got hooked on literature after reading The Picture of Dorian Gray.” He leaned back, and you realized just how close he had been - and you exhaled a breath, you didn’t really notice, you’d held back.

“You’re good. Although I did get into classics after reading Madame Bovary. But still close!” He chuckled, a warm, sweet and honeyed sound.

“Madame Bovary… I should have known.”

—--------

A few days had passed since agreeing to do the arrangement with Henry - you were back at your old apartment, packing up some of the stuff you might need over the next few months. You sighed deeply when your eyes graced the contract, Henry's agent had sent you - something like an NDA, but you hadn’t really looked at it yet. It felt weird, being contracted to Henry like that - not that you didn’t understand, but it felt weird to be somewhat forced to spend time with another human.

Your phone binged and you snapped yourself out of your thoughts. Henry had texted you.

“Ready for it?” You sighed again. Not really, no.

You quickly packed your bag, throwing whatever in reach inside, and drawing a deep breath, looking around your apartment one more time.

It was the first apartment you ever lived in. It was tiny, a little run down, but it was your home. You weren’t really moving away from it, but leasing out to a student in the city for six months, so you still had somewhat of an income and a place to return to after the whole thing was over.

You texted a thumbs up to Henry, and swung your bag over your shoulder, grabbed a box of books and went outside to wait for the car.

A black SUV with tinted windows pulled up and a stranger got out, grabbed your box of books with a “hmpfh” and smiled at you.

“I’m Steven, Mr. Cavills… Well, anything and everything. Whatever you need, let me know.” You smiled. “Cool, thank you.” He opened the door for you and you slid inside, heart slightly in your throat. Steven got in and started the car, leading you to the weirdest vacation you’ve ever had.

“So… Where are we going?” You asked after 15 minutes. “We’re going to Mr. Cavills beach house, a little ways away. Don’t worry, it’ll be quick. Oh,” he roamed the seat next to him and handed you a binder. “This is stuff, you should know about Mr. Cavill and his schedule. There’s a few things you have to attend in the coming weeks, and hopefully you’ll get some time in between.” You quickly looked over the papers in the binder. Holy shit, he was a busy bee.

“uhm, there’s something about England here…?” You said hesitantly. Steven nodded.

“Yeah, there’s an event. You’ll need to travel.” You sighed. Planes were your enemy.

After two hours, the car finally turned down a small, private road. You glanced out of the window and saw sea and sky and finally, a house. Well, more like a mansion.

“holy fuck.” you whispered under your breath.

It was enormous.

Big windows covered almost the entire front of the house, lightly colored wood made up the exterior, and it looked like it was taken straight out of a magazine. It was beautiful and intimidating all at once.

You stepped out of the car and were instantly met with the scent of the ocean and warm sand. Steven nudged your shoulder gently, leading you to the front door.

Inside was just as beautiful as out - light walls, plants everywhere and lush rugs covered the stone floors.

“Hey.” is soft, warm voice reached you, and you swirled around, meeting Henry's smile and eyes.

“Hi.” you said breathlessly. “I’ll leave you to it.” Steven said kindly before leaving the same way he came from. “Long drive?” Henry asked with an air of worry. You nodded. “Beautiful, though.” He smiled. “Let me show you around.”

After the tour, you both grabbed a glass of wine and sat down on the patio overlooking the blue sea and setting sun. It felt surprisingly serene, sitting next to Henry while the sun set, drinking a very expensive wine with a name you'd probably never be able to pronounce.

“So, Henry…” You put your glass down as Henry turned to you.

“So, Y/N…” he said jokingly.

“I need to get some stuff straight before we really, really start this. Okay?” He nodded seriously.

“Okay, hit me.” You smiled at him.

“So, I really need three things.” He nodded again, turning his body towards you. “Alright. Anything, really.” His voice was like goddamn honey and awfully distracting.

“Okay. So, first of… Uhm, I need to know what’s going on in England next month.” He smiled cautiously.

“Oh. Yeah, um, that’s a thing.” You raised your eyebrows at his tone. He sighed and rubbed his neck, his shirt rising lightly, exposing a very, very pretty and toned stomach.

“So, an old mate of mine is getting married. I would’ve gone alone, even after this arrangement was agreed upon, but…” He glanced at you. “Well, first off, my agent believes it would look weird” he made a face “if I show up without my supposed girlfriend.” You nodded somberly. That made some sense, although you were pretty sure that the old mate would see right through it. “But what’s more… My ex-girlfriend is going to be there.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” You looked at him. He looked sheepish. “We didn’t end on the best of terms, and… Well, I need a buffer. Which, now that I’m saying it out loud, sounds awful.” He smiled slightly apologetically.

“Go on.” You urged. He sighed.

“She’s still… Well, she has a hard time letting go. It got worse after I got bigger roles, and she is somehow under the impression that we’re simply on a break.” You raised an eyebrow. Great. “So, I’d love for you to join me. Not as a part of the contract, but hopefully as a friend.” You nodded.

“Well, that’s a good segway into… Bigger events. You know, stuff that requires fancy dresses and shoes that hurt, good hair and all that. How am I going to do that? I barely get by normally, and the fanciest dress I own is from H&M, which I bought five years ago.” He grinned. “You needn’t worry. Please, let me take care of that, okay?” You grinned. “Am I going to be treated like a princess?” He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, the setting sun hitting his dark curls and lighting them up in the most beautiful caramel color.

“Yes, indeed.”

“Cool. Lastly… Should we have some groundrules?” He raised his eyebrow and took a sip of his wine, before leaning closer to you.

“Which groundrules are we discussing?” You felt your cheeks heat up at his closeness. He smelled like warm wood and sunlotion.

“Uhm… Well, anything, really?” you stammered.

He nodded.

“Let’s try it.”

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TAGLIST: @isabellamendes77

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill smut

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Seven Drinks

Bucky x f!reader

Summary: There's a reason Y/N has never had more than 3 drinks around the other avengers, and they're about to find out.

Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, angst (don't worry there's fluff too)

Word Count: 4322

a/n: This is inspired by that episode of Brooklyn 99 with 6 drink Amy (I adopted that concept!) and also Halsey's album Manic. :) I hope you like it. Anything in bold is a lyric from one of the songs on the album!

Please let me know if I messed up the trigger warning tags! I've never written anything like this before, so I just want to make sure I do it right.

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"We're having a party tonight." Tony's announcement was met with the usual groans of annoyance at having to schmooze with the typical socialites that attended Tony's party. "You know, you are so ungrateful sometimes. here I am trying to throw you a party, and you're complaining!"

"Tony, we all appreciate the effort you go to, but- at least speaking for me- I don't like people." Y/N's response was effortless, swiftly calming Tony and explaining the reactions.

"That is why-" Tony stuttered when he actually registered the words you said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. And besides, this is a party for just us. It'll be more like team building, but without any pre-planned activities. No "smarmy, rich people" to deal with." He directed his last sentence at Bucky, Steve, and Sam.

The team actually seemed excited at the prospect, albeit skeptical of Tony's motivations.

Unsurprisingly, Nat worked up the courage to question him on it first, "what's the catch?"

"No catch. Just friends, food, and lots of alcohol." His grin quickly shifted into a smirk as the entire room turned to look at you.

You groaned slightly, not wanting all the attention. "Look, there is a reason I cap myself at 3 drinks." Holding up one finger, you started to explain, "One drink Y/N is barely any different from my sober self."

Wanda quickly cut you off, "not true! You get louder." She smirked, happy to have added that tidbit of information.

"Fine." With a laugh, you admitted she was right. "I might get the tiniest bit louder." You held up a second finger to continue your explanation, but were once again cut off.

"It's not a bad thing. It's just your happy, bubbly, and slightly louder than normal personality shining through!" Nat added, seeing an opportunity to tease you for being so positive all the time.

"Thanks Nat. Anyway," emphasizing the rudeness of being interrupted twice, you continued, "two drink Y/N is more touchy feely than normal. Not in a creepy way though!"

"I love two drink Y/N. She gives the best hugs!" Thor eagerly added to the conversation, glad to have dropped by when he did.

"Thanks Thor." With a small smile in his direction, you held up a third finger. "Three drink Y/N is the perfect amount of just past tipsy to have fun without doing anything extremely embarrassing. It makes the most sense to stop there." You finished her little speech with your typical smile and a resolute nod of your head.

"Seriously, you need to relax. Just let loose this one time!" Sam tried to encourage you. With the eyes of nearly every avenger set on you, your resolve didn't last very long.

"Fine! Maybe I'll have a fourth drink." You were met with cheers as you rose from your spot on the couch, trying to prepare for the night that was to come.

As soon as you stepped off the elevator, you had a drink in your hand. Clearly your friends were going to make sure you got a fourth drink. even Steve seemed excited when he saw you, although his golden boy personality didn't disappear completely.

"You sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured!" Bucky nodded, weirdly enthusiastically, before adding, "Yeah doll, don't drink more than you want to."

"You two are too sweet. Sam's right, but don't tell him I said that." You winked at the two super soldiers, emphasizing the joke. "I should let myself relax sometimes. I'm in a safe place, with friends who won't let anything happen to me. What could a few more drinks really do?" You couldn't help but smile at how true that was. You were surrounded by people who care about you.

"Oh, so now it's a few more drinks? What are we talking here, six drink Y/N? Seven?" Bucky teased.

"You'll have to wait and see, Ducky." You teased right back, knowing how flustered he got at the pet name. Steve laughed at his friend as you walked away, ready for your second drink.

Before long, you had your fourth drink in your hand. It was slightly odd how literally everyone was staring at you, but your were three drink Y/N at the time, so you were drunk enough not to care.

You downed the fourth drink, unprepared for the consequences.

"So, Y/N... how do you feel?" Clint braved the waters, everyone eagerly awaiting your reaction.

"That is so nice of you to ask! I feel great! I don't think I've ever been this happy." You jumped up and down, hugging Clint with a huge smile on your face.

"How did you get even happier?" Tony chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"Do you not like it?" Like a switch had been flipped, you were nearly crying.

"What?! No!" Tony was so taken aback at the tears pooling in your eyes, he froze, unsure how to fix it. He looked around the room for help, but everyone else was just as shocked as him.

"I'll fix it!" You were at the bar, fixing another drink before anyone fully comprehended your mood swing.

You walked back up to the group, sipping from your fifth drink as if nothing happened. "What?" You questioned the odd looks, but before receiving an answer you squealed, again jumping up and down. "Let's dance!" You turned around, ready to move to the more open area before looking back over your shoulder, "Wanda! Nat! Pepper! Come on!"

The women shared a look, ultimately shrugging before joining you on the makeshift dance floor.

"Bucky, you've been staring at her for 20 straight minutes. When are you finally gonna talk to her?" Steve couldn't help but pester him about his feelings.

"I can't help it. I've never seen her dance so much. I mean, I know she's always happy, but this is a whole new level." He didn't take his eyes off of you, even when he was responding. "I can't tell her tonight, though. This is the most she's had to drink in years."

He watched as you moved back over to the bar, needing another drink after dancing so much.

"Here we go, six drink Y/N." Bucky gestured to the bar. Steve shook his head, but allowed the change of topic.

About five minutes after your sixth drink, you were somehow bounding around with even more energy. You were nearly running around the room, trying to talk to everyone at once.

"Ducky! Have I ever told you I took gymnastics lessons for 7 years when I was younger?" You were bouncing with pent up energy, excited to be sharing more information about yourself.

"No, you've actually never mentioned that." He smiled, enraptured by your childlike enthusiasm, so enraptured that he didn't notice the mischief in your eyes.

"Well, I did! Watch this." You handed a confused Bucky your now empty glass, turning and throwing your arms up. Bucky realized two late what was happening, and with both yours and his glasses in his hands, he couldn't physically stop you.

"Y/N, wait!" His shout had everyone turn and look as you flawlessly executed two cartwheels in a row.

Bucky would swear your smile got even bigger as you turned around to look at him again.

"Normally I can do more, but" you hiccuped, then lowered your voice to a really terrible whisper, "I'm a little drunk." You leaned into him, laughing as if you just told a joke.

Wanda walked up to you with a seventh drink, hoping seven drink Y/N had a little less energy, but happy to see you having so much fun. "Here ya go! One more of your favorites, just like you asked."

"Thank youuuuuu!" You shifted to hug Wanda, leaving Bucky to miss your added warmth.

You sipped your seventh drink slower than the rest, quickly running out of energy. Sliding the empty glass across the bar, you slipped out of the party unnoticed, making your way to the kitchen for some pickles- your favorite drunk food.

Your seventh drink hit you just after you opened the pickles. Gone was the happy, bubbly persona you showed the world. The mask slipped away, leaving you alone to contemplate your life choices.

You made your way to to the lounge just outside of the kitchen, choosing to lay on the floor behind the couch and stare out of the large floor to ceiling windows.

"Where's Y/N?" Bucky glanced around the room, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Huh? Oh, she said she wanted a snack." A very drunk Wanda turned to look at where the food was set up, scrunching her face in confusion when she couldn't find you. "Weird. Maybe she went to the bathroom?"

Bucky, having noticed your absence 8 minutes ago, didn't think you left for a bathroom break. "Maybe." Plus, you always took the girls to the bathroom with you. His eyes flitted about the room, taking one more glance before deciding to go look for you.

He decided to head for the kitchen since Wanda said you wanted a snack. He laughed at the open jar of pickles, knowing you at least passed through this room. He put the pickles away before popping his head into the lounge area.

"Y/N?" He called out, figuring this was the most likely location for you to end up.

You hummed in response, not moving from your spot on the floor. Bucky walked further into the room, slightly confused as to why he could hear you but not see you. That is, until he realized you were laying on the floor behind the couch.

"Why are you on the floor?" He smiled when he found you.

"I'm just looking at the sky." Your voice held a melancholy air as it floated through the room. Bucky's smile faltered, not used to hearing you sad. In the three years he's known you, he's only ever seen you sad because of a movie or tv show. Otherwise, you were quite literally always happy.

"Why-" he faltered, unsure how to check on you. "Is everything okay?" he nearly choked the words out, feeling slightly stressed at your sudden gloominess.

"Yeah." You took a deep breath, slowly letting it out in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I don't know." You sigh again, still looking at the sky.

Bucky chances another question, wanting to get you talking since you're acting so off. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel... so sorry." You words were so soft that Bucky could barely hear them.

"Sorry?" He tried to hide his confusion, matching your soft tone as he sat down a few feet away from you. "About what doll?"

"Just... because I feel so sad." Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn't stop staring at the sky.

"What are you sad about?" It's taking everything in him for Bucky not to hold you right now. He doesn't want to make you even more upset, especially because he's never seen you like this.

"No one around me knows who I am..." He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek, shining in the light from the moon.

Bucky moves closer, just close enough for him to reach out and hold your hand. You squeeze it, instant relief flooding through him that he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "I'm not breaking. I won't take it. And I won't ever feel this way again." Your voice is harder, as if your angry with yourself.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay to have feelings. You're allowed to feel like this. Don't push it away. Talk to me. Why don't you think anyone knows who you are? We're all here for you, Y/N." He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, trying to convey how serious he is.

You let out a dry laugh, wiping the the tears from your cheek. "My self preservation..." Bucky can tell there's more to, choosing to wait for you to continue. "All of my reservations..." You sigh again, sitting up, you scoot closer until you can lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I bottle it up. I'm my own biggest enemy." You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head without moving it from its resting place on Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky wraps his arm around you and leans his cheek against your head. "Take your time. You can talk to me." He whispered, trying to keep you talking without getting mad at yourself again.

"Well, I'd like to tell you that my sky is not blue, it's violent rain." The sounds of your sniffles break his heart. "I just pretend everything's fine because that's what I had to do when I was younger." Rather then interrupting, Bucky continues to rub small circles on your hand and your back, encouraging you to continue when you're ready. "Can I tell you a story? I... I think it'll help explain some of it."

"Of course. Anything you need, doll." He curses himself for the pet name, not wanting you to think he's joking. He just can't help it when it comes to you.

"Thank you, ducky." You chuckle, but your words are just as sincere as his. "You know I have two sisters, and I love them with all my heart, but sometimes growing up with them was hard. My older sister, she put so much pressure on herself to succeed. And, she did. She was so good at everything she did, that I felt like I had to be just as perfect.

With my younger sister, it was like it was effortless. She put just as much, if not more pressure on herself. but, she could do anything she tried to, with almost no learning curve. I always felt this crazy amount of pressure to be just as good.

My parents, they didn't really help with that. I mean, they were so supportive and I'm so grateful to them, but it was a lot of pressure. The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I wanted to get an internship. Ya know, to get some experience. It would set me up better for getting a job after graduation.

I spent months looking and applying, but nothing was working out. So, I went home for the summer. My mom would come home everyday and ask me if I got a job yet.

I spent nearly every waking hour looking for a job, even just a part time one for the summer. So one day, when we sat down for dinner and she asked if I got a job yet..."

Bucky could feel how tense you were telling this story, but he knew you needed to get it out.

"I told her, 'no, not yet' and she just seemed so disappointed. She asked if I was even applying and I snapped.

I yelled at her, something that had never really happened before. I told her I was trying. I was doing everything I could. She yelled at me for yelling and said it wasn't unreasonable to ask for updates.

I yelled right back. I kept saying I spend all day everyday trying and just when I finally get a break, she walks in and brings it all up again. I was stressed enough without her constant reminders.

I ended up running away from the table, in tears. I hid in the bathroom, there... there was a pair of scissors on the counter and I really thought about killing myself that day."

The tears are pouring out of you at this point. Bucky threw caution to the wind. He picked you up, maneuvering you to sit across his lap and lean your head on his chest. He kept rubbing circles into your back, murmuring words of encouragement.

"My younger sister tried to check on me, but I wouldn't open the door. My mom stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. I was full on having a panic attack in the hallway bathroom. I think I stayed in there for an hour before I went back to the dinner table.

My dad was in the kitchen. He put my plate in the microwave to heat up dinner for me. I ate through near constant tears, it only got worse every time he tried to ask me what happened. Why I snapped like that.

I wanted to apologize to my mom for yelling, so after I ate I went to her room. I knocked, and when she told me to come in I opened the door. I just remember her looking so angry.

I apologized. I told her I was sorry for yelling. She said something about not being unreasonable again. I cried again. When she asked what was wrong, I told her I was scared.

I couldn't put it into words though, so when she asked me 'of what?' I just shrugged. Then, she asked me if I was on my period.

God. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at her again, To make her understand 'I only wanna die some days. But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?' I decided that day that I would never try to tell anyone how I actually felt."

Bucky holds you as you cry. You're not sure how long it's been when you can finally breathe enough to talk again.

"I just, so many people have bigger problems then me. I grew up in a loving household. I went to college and made friends. I got a job after I graduated. So why am I so sad sometimes? I just wanna scream but what’s the use? At night, I lay awake and I stare at the door, I just can’t take it no more."

Bucky continues comforting you when he speaks again. "Just because other people have problems, doesn't mean yours are irrelevant. You are 100% allowed to feel however you feel, even if it seems like there's no reason for it. Have you ever thought about talking to someone about all of this? I know you just said you haven't told anyone how you actually feel for years, but I think it could help." He smiled nervously when you raised your head to look at him.

"I have actually. I joked about it a lot with my roommate right out of college. I always used to say 'everybody needs therapy' as a joke. Of course, I meant it. Most people probably do need therapy." You laughed, moving your arms around Bucky's neck to hug him. "Thank you for listening to me. I like talking to you."

Of course, Bucky noticed your smile didn't reach your eyes. He was confident in his words when he spoke again. "You can always talk to me. I'll always be there to listen." He followed that with a less confident "What's been bothering you today?"

"Oh, nothing that serious. It's just all pent up inside, ya know?" You smiled again, hiding your face so he couldn't see your lies.

Of course, he could still hear it in your voice. "Y/N, you can tell me. I want to be here for you."

"I... It's just, my insecurities are hurting me." You laughed at yourself. "Here we go with the fucking riddles, again. On the plus side, I think I've cried so much I'm back to one drink Y/N."

"Well, it has been 3 hours since I left to come find you." You were grateful for Bucky's joke, needing something to lift the mood a bit. "But, don't try and change the subject. I still want to know what's got you all sad." His words were light, but you knew how serious he was.

You took a deep breath, burying your head in his neck. "How could somebody ever love me?" You spoke into his shirt, not moving your head back even an inch.

"You know I can't understand you when you talk into my neck like that." Bucky tried joking, but even he knew it would do little to calm your fears.

You moved back, lips still grazing his skin when you repeated yourself, "how could somebody ever love me?"

Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you how much he loves you. He would gladly spend every day of his life loving you, but he didn't think this was the right time. Not when you just poured your heart out to him. So he settled for the almost truth.

"Anyone would be lucky to love you. You are selfless. You put everyone else first, no matter what. You always make sure everyone has a reason to smile, even when things aren't going right. You tell the best jokes. You're great at cuddling." He squeezes you closer to him, emphasizing the point. "You are beautiful, inside and out. Everyone who comes into contact with you automatically has a better day. You are incredibly strong and independent. I've never met anyone so incredibly good. Even Steve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

His words brought more tears to your eyes, pooling in the corners. "Then how come everyone that I’ve dated says they hate it cause they don’t know what to do with me? I feel broken."

"They were all idiots. You're not broken. Not even a little bit. You're learning how to express your feelings. You just need someone who would take it slow." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, struggling not to tell you everything.

"I wonder if you’d take it slow." Your eyes go wide when that slips out. You hadn't meant to make things uncomfortable. One look at Bucky's face has you freaking out. He looks stunned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out! Oh god, you've been there for me all night and I go and fuck it up by admitting I'm in love with you."

Your eyes grow even larger. You would move out of his lap, but his arms are still holding you in place. "Shit! Maybe I'm still drunk because apparently I have no filter." You say the last part more to yourself, but he can still hear you.

"Y/N?" Your name comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper.

"Yes?" You cringe internally at messing everything up.

"I would take it slow." He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours while he waits for you to absorb his words.

"Yeah?" You whisper back, a smile ghosting your lips.

"Yeah." You both lean in, exchanging soft, slow kisses and sleepy smiles.

The two of you ended up falling asleep leaning against the back of the couch. The sun streaming through the windows, combined with the noise of the other avengers in the kitchen, wakes you up.

You nudge Bucky, grinning when he pulls you closer.

"C'mon. Let's get some breakfast." He groans again, but eventually stands up.

The two of you walk into the nearly full kitchen, surprising everyone by coming from the lounge rather than the elevators. They share amused expressions, unaware of the emotional hurdles you jumped last night.

You head right for Sam, hugging him tightly before moving on to hug everyone else.

"I just wanted to thank you all. For encouraging me to live a little last night, but also for being there for me." Tears spring to your eyes again, shocking everyone but Bucky. "You're all like a family to me and I'm so glad I have you all to lean on." You made your way back to Bucky, leaning into his side while he poured both of you some cereal.

You smile when you look at him, kissing his cheek before sliding into the stool next to his.

As if broken out of a day dream, Sam sputters out a question. "What the hell did seven drink Y/N do last night?" Thrown off both by your behaviour with Bucky and the short emotional speech.

"Oh, seven drink Y/N is an emotional little bitch. I think I cried eight years of suppressed tears." You laughed, grinning at Bucky when he squeezed your hand. "Also, I think I need a therapist." Your casual admission has Tony spitting out his breakfast.

"What the hell happened last night after you disappeared from the party?" He guffaws, trying to put the pieces together.

"Also, why aren't you even a little bit hungover?" Nat chimed in, upset at missing out on seeing you anything but cheery.

"Well, to answer Nat first, I don't get hungover. Never have, even the one time I blackout out." You shrugged at everyone's slightly jealous expressions. "To answer Tony, I had an emotional breakthrough. Bucky helped me talk through it, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Long story short, i'm going to learn how to share my feelings instead of suppressing them all."

"Suppressing them? What are you talking about? I've literally never felt anything but happiness from you before?" Wanda questioned the new development.

"Well, that's because I'm really good at hiding how I feel. I'd rather not go through it all again, so just watch the security footage from the lounge last night, yeah? I want you all to know, even if it took seven drink Y/N to share it." You quickly finished eating, pulling Bucky to the doorway.

"While you do that, we're going out. Bye!" Before they could question anything else, you ran to the elevator, dragging a very willing Bucky behind you.

"We're going out?" He questioned when the elevator doors shut.

"Yep. Get dressed, I want to see all your favorite places in New York. Even if they're different now. Take me to all your favorite spots." You both smiled, sharing another soft kiss before parting to change for the day.

"Hey," Bucky called, causing you to turn over your shoulder, "I love you."

"I love you too."

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #tw: suicide #tw: depression #tw: panic attack

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fic-writer-and-enjoyer · 2 years

Text

Less than Zero (Part 3- Finale)

Request: "Winchester brothers x sister reader where the reader is depressed harms themselves and feels like she not good enough and is a drug addict like does weed and other drugs drinks to relieve her pain..."

Euphoria and "Less than zero" inspired

(Won't show here the whole request because it spoils the end but it's on my profile if you're interested)

Pairings: Dean!Brother x Reader, Sam!Brother x Reader, Castiel!Friend x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, language, drugs, alcohol, self-harm, mentions of sex

A/N: "Thank you all for the support on the series, requests are open, I'm looking for more inspiration!" "If you want to be added to the tag list message me or comment!"

Word count: 2800ish

First Part.

Masterlist.

Castiel was actually watching over you.

I mean, if sitting in the corner of your room and browsing fashion magazines can be called watching over someone. You’d laugh at how ridiculous the contrast between his grave expression and the pink magazine in his hand looks if you had the energy to do so.

You’ve been trying to fall asleep for several hours now. You wanted to get rid of the rest of the drug’s effects. Instead of having visions of Max being ripped apart in front of your eyes, you’d actually see the cement ceiling above you.

Cas didn’t bother talking to you, you realized he figured you wouldn’t answer, anyway.

So the room was dead silent, except for the occasional rustle of magazine pages.

You’re not sure when your eyelids grew heavy, nor when you stopped tracking the numbers of the app in front of your eyes.

Luckily, when you fell asleep, you couldn’t dream of anything at all.

***

The next day, your brothers talked to you as they promised.

Although their type of conversation was basically one-sided. If you could even call it one. They screamed and complained; you weren’t even able to get through them. At one point, you stopped hearing what they were saying. You just nodded now and then.

The entire next day blurred together into waiting for hours. Punctuated by sneaking into the kitchen and sipping painkillers with your brothers’ whiskey.

You didn’t even try to get out of the bunker because you knew that at least one of the Winchesters had been watching the entrance all day.

The thing that took you out of the monotonous rhythm of the day was a message from your ‘friend’.

His name was Brad... or Brock?

You weren’t sure what his name was. Usually when you two met, you were high or in a worse state than that. You didn’t really bother with finding out, you just set his name in the contacts to “plug”.

You didn’t care how suspicious that name might look, considering how illegal the life you were leaving was. Someone seeing that weird contact name was the last on your list of problems.

Plug: You want to hang out at my place? Tonight, midnight.

“His place” was an abandoned hideout and “hang out” meant sharing the cost of the goods by 50/50 and getting high.

He wasn’t your friend. You weren’t close to him, but he would supply you with the things you needed most. Plus, he was your only friend.

Since Max’s death, you’ve cut yourself off from everyone

You thought you deserved it.

You just replied with a simple ‘yes’ to his message and switched off your phone.

Leaving the bunker was the only thing that’d keep you sane. You were suffocating there, and the alcohol was not enough.

You just had to figure out how to get out without your brothers noticing.

***

It was half-past eleven.

You felt a throbbing headache and stomach cramp from the mix of alcohol and pills you had been taking all day. You tried to ignore it.

You packed the most important things and prepared the outfit for the hangout. You just needed to find the right moment. Every 15 minutes you sneaked through the hallways and checked the state of Dean who was sitting at the table.

An hour earlier, you’ve put some sleeping pills in his beer. You made sure that they can be mixed with alcohol and gave such a dose that it would knock him out for an hour at most. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you had to be sure he wouldn’t ruin your plans.

When you noticed how his head started slipping from the hand, he was resting it on. You crept into the room, changed your clothes, and took your things as quietly as you could. You slipped past your passed-out brother unnoticed. Without hesitation, you got on your bike, standing next to the bunker’s entrance.

You don’t know how you managed not to fall off your ride. It was pouring, and the road was barely visible.

You got out.

***

“What the fuck is that?” You watched Brad-Brock fill empty capsules with a strange powder of unknown origin.

The boy looked no better than the den in which you were sitting. He tucked his matted hair under a gray beanie. He rolled the sleeves of his dirty sweatshirt up, showing dark, bloodshot stains on the crook of his arm.

“This, sweetheart is ...” he smiled, clenching the last of several pills “a miracle”. His tone made it sound extremely fabulous considering the situation you were in.

“I know how much you hate needles, so I figured I’ll get you the light version,” He smirked, gathering up all the pills he’d put together in his hand. Before he could elaborate on his lecture on the drug, you took two pills from him and took them.

You’d rather not know what’s in them.

You shoved him $50 as you sat on the moth-eaten blankets.

You didn’t have time for second thoughts.

You two didn’t have a long conversation before your dealer injected himself with a full syringe of fluid and dazed off on one of the torn mattresses.

The pills didn’t work that fast, so you had to wait.

Brock or whatever, he left some still untouched tablets on his backpack.

“Light version” - you snorted at his words. You wanted to have a real trip, and not feel the effects for 15 minutes as in your last hang out.

You picked up the remaining five tablets and swallowed them one by one. You stuffed the drug money into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Putting headphones into your ears, you pressed play and allowed yourself to relax.

***

The first effects appeared suddenly, blurring your vision, increasing your heart rate.

At first, it was nice. The pain in your head eased and your muscles relaxed. The music in the headphones seemed to flow through your body like the drug, pulsing through your veins, steering your breathing.

You wanted to float away on this wave of bliss, but after a while, the substance hit with more force. You saw your hands, raised to your face, they were shaking, you couldn’t control them.

Your thoughts weren’t where they were supposed to be. You moved before you could register it. The pain in your chest increased.

You felt like you were choking.

Breathing became almost impossible. You tried, but your body was lagging, your inhaling was delayed and you held it for too long.

Something was very wrong with what you took.

You forgot how to swallow your spit, so you let it drip from the tips of your mouth.

You didn’t want to choke on it.

You didn’t want to die.

For the first time in months, you felt the fear of your own death. You don’t want to die, but you were leading to it. Everything you had been doing has led you to this.

Maybe you deserved it.

You wouldn’t go to heaven, you wouldn’t end up with Max. And now you’re doing everything you can to speed up the transition to the other side.

You began to cough, choking on saliva.

No, it can’t end like this.

You felt like the music that was flowing in you a moment ago started to burn you from the inside. Like needles stinging every inch of your skin.

You ripped your headphones off and maniacally started scratching your skin with trembling hands, wanting to get rid of the aching melody underneath it.

Not this way.

In your thoughts, you were begging for help as your vision got even more blurry. You were dying.

Until you felt warmth embrace you.

Heaven.

That was your first thought.

Hell’s fire was the second.

But a deep male voice pushed away all these thoughts. He kept repeating your name to wake you up from the state you were in. You wanted to go towards his sound, but nothing you tried made you regain control.

One second you were in a cool room and the next the icy wind hit you, the smell of rain and drops falling on your sweaty hair.

“I have her” Cas, he came for you. He answered your pleading.

You stood in front of the bunker entrance. Impala’s headlights illuminated the road, revealing two men standing a few feet away from you and Castiel.

You were still shaking and coughing. Tears of pain and helplessness ran down your cheeks, mixing with the freezing rain.

“I got you, I got you...” Dean’s voice was pleasant, unlike that music. It didn’t tear you apart from the inside.

He grabbed you and helped you lean against the Impala’s mask. He held your hair as you spitted on the ground, trying to catch your breath.

“Cas, what happened?!” The fear in Sam’s voice muffled everything you felt.

“She overdosed, consumed something. I’m not sure what this substance is, but it’s highly poisonous in these amounts.” Dean held you tighter as you coughed out something that didn’t look like spit anymore.

It was blood.

“Cas, to hell with the facts. What can we do?!” Dean’s scream echoed unpleasantly in your head.

“You have to get it out of her digestive system before I attempt to clean her bloodstream out”

Sam or Dean couldn’t add anything as a wave of new convulsions bent you in half and sent you to the ground.

You couldn’t move.

Dean lifted you up, on his knee and forced his fingers down your throat. He made you throw up on the ground. You coughed as you vomited again.

Cas’ hand on your forehead sent a wave of heat across your body. With each passing second, your vision grew less blurry until you could clearly see the drops running down Dean’s face. Full of fear and relief.

Your hands were still shaking, but you put them around Castiel’s neck and pressed him against you as hard as you could, smearing him with everything that was on you.

He hugged you back.

***

You were sitting in the War Room. You had a warm blanket and fresh clothes on you. In front of you were a cup of hot tea and a plate of cookies next to it.

The surrounding silence was killing you.

“I fucked up,” you whispered, trying to break the silence.

Cas sitting next to you didn’t seem to show any emotion. But you knew he was scared and confused like you were.

Sam was sitting in front of you, rubbing his face with his hands, and Dean was pacing around the table with the map.

“Fucked up?” Dean snorted as he slammed an open hand on the table. The teacup shook, and tea that spilled from it got a few cookies wet. “Let me elaborate on that”

You were ashamed. You were angry at yourself, at them. What else were you supposed to do? You can’t live without drugs, you can’t escape what you’ve been through any other way.

Guilt is killing you.

“You drugged me, sneaked out in the middle of the night, got high on some junkyard. Hell, you almost died. Half of my whiskey is missing and you’re saying that you ’fucked up’?”

“What was I supposed to do?!” you bashed out standing up.

The blanket slipped off your shoulders as you moved closer to your older brother.

“I’m rotting in here! There is nothing I can do to fix what happened! “You felt the tears gathering in your eyes. “I can’t save them, I can’t- “You choked on tears “There is no point to all of this!” Seeing the pain in Dean’s eyes made you feel a pang in your heart.

Sam’s eyes seemed empty as if he remembered everything that had happened to him. As if he remembered every time he blamed himself like you, when he came to the same moment, same conclusions.

They understood.

You knew they understood, but you refused to admit it. It was your pain, not theirs.

Your eldest brother’s expression softened. You looked down as your eyes met.

“Y/N, look at me,” He asked softly.

You looked up. His expression reminded you of the one Max gave you just before they died.

“We loved that kid, we really did. And I know you loved them, probably more than a hundred times more than we could ever imagine. “His voice lowered almost to a whisper. He moved closer to you were only a few inches away. “But they’re gone,” regret in his voice tightened your stomach, “You slowly dying won’t bring them back. You becoming a wreck of a person would destroy the memory that you have of them “

You wanted to deny it. You wanted him to be wrong, but he was right. He was fucking right, and you had to listen to him.

“Sam and Cas can’t lose you, I can’t lose you...” He rested his chin on your head, closing his eyes. “Don’t- We, we need you” his voice shook as he moved a loose strand of hair from your temple.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, pushing your face away from him. “I- It’s hard. It seems to get harder day by day.” Another tear run down your cheek. “I can’t manage without this…”

“Yes, you can.” Sam interrupted you. Shaking your head, you leaned on your chair again.

“No Sam, it’s not that simple-” You started, but his sorry expression made you pause.

“I know it isn’t. I’ve been a hell of a junkie-wreck, remember? After Dean died, it destroyed me and brought upon us things we couldn’t manage later.” He sighed. “You might feel like you’re choosing the lesser of two evils, but there is only one side of it that’s bad. The one that’s killing you.” You shook your head again, but deep down you knew he was right. It was hard to admit, but he was.

They say naming the problem is the first step. For the longest time, you thought you were one. Blaming the one standing felt like the right thing to do. But at that moment, the first time in months, you undermined that thought.

“I’m sorry Dean, for what I’ve said, I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to get back at you.” You said as you turned to the older Winchester. “And sorry to all of you for… lying and stuff.” You weren’t sure what to say. It felt like apologizing was too little, but it was a start.

“Oh, I know you didn’t mean it, kid.” He chuckled as you raised your brows

“How come?” he looked so sure of himself

“I’m not that bossy.” He replied. Sam coughed in surprise as if to disagree with his brother. “What? I’m not bossy! You should see Sam when you’re not around. He goes all Miranda Priestly on me.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his ridiculous response and Sam’s bitch face.

“So now you’re quoting The Devil Wears Prada huh?” his voice sounded way too dramatic than it should’ve been.

“What? It’s a great movie!” You shook your head in disbelief.

“And about me being bossy…” Dean started and you couldn’t help to giggle more. He just sent you more of a serious expression so you stopped “I and Sam decided…”

“You mean you decided..” Sam cut him off. Dean just grunted, trying to dismiss his comment.

“ We decided to help you with your recovery…” He said and you froze, you remembered how they helped Sam. “Not in that way…” He raised his voice a bit as if he understood your concerned look.

“We’re gonna cut on alcohol, that means no beer too. You know, it might help you with staying sober.” You gaped at him. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth.

“You’re gonna drop your baby juice?” You teased him but he got to you and tickled you on the ribs. “Okay! I’m kidding” You chuckled as he let you go.

“I’m gonna not drink with you guys too” Cas exclaimed with excitement. “The more the merrier.”

You laughed again. Your face started hurting from all the laughter. You missed that feeling.

“Cas, you don’t even drink.” Sam reminded him. he was also trying to hold back laughter.

“I know, and I will continue that. With you all.” Dean laughed patting the angel on the back.

“Of course, you will macho…” He chuckled as he stole one of the cookies from the plate. You weren’t even mad.

“Okay…” You sighed, looking at your brothers. “I’ll quit, with you…” An honest smile crept on your lips as you saw their relieved expressions.

You didn’t want to quit, but relying on this habit was far worse.

So you had to try at least.

For Dean.

For Cas.

For Sam.

For Max,

For you.

And maybe it won’t be so hard. Now that you’re not alone.

Masterlist.

A/N: "If you want to be tagged in any of my future work comment or message me" "Requests are open" ltz tags: @supernerdycookietrashblr @adeanmon tags: @dragon-master-kai

#supernatural fic #dean winchester #dean x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural sister imagine #dean!brother #imagine #supernatural sister #fic #sam!brother #insert reader #castiel #spn #cas

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akingdomofswordsandstories · 3 years

Text

Tired

azriel (acotar) x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, depression

word count: 1809

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of your room and the sound of birds humming filled the room. Groggily, you opened your eyes, surveying the scene. The left side of your bed was cold and empty. Azriel must have had to head up to Windhaven earlier this morning.

Glancing to the window, you saw it was half way open. Azriel’s small gestures never failed to make you smile. He knew you loved the smell of the breeze and the fresh air. It was refreshing. A moment of peace.But recently, it got harder and harder to smile. You put on a front to alleviate suspicion. The last thing you wanted was the inner circle being worried about your problems while they were dealing with other threats.

Swinging your legs over the bed, you felt the cool breeze against them. You made your way to the bathroom, getting ready for the day. You splashed cold water onto your face to try and wake yourself up. You looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back. Your disgust and hatred surfaced as your grip tightened on the edge of the bathroom counter. Why were you feeling this way? You wished you could go back to normal, to the happy carefree person you were months ago. That person was nowhere to be seen and you were stuck like this, stuck in your head and your thoughts.

Azriel must have sensed something was bothering you because he brushed your mind through the bond, sending a questioning thought . You quickly played it off sending your false happiness down the bond. When you usually had your thoughts, you made sure to cut the bond off, but not for too long because Azriel would get worried otherwise.

You kept these thoughts to yourself and didn’t let anyone see them. You felt guilty for feeling like this. You should be happy, not sad. You shouldn’t loathe yourself, you had people who loved you. But your self doubt and hatred never left you alone and you didn’t want to share this burden with Az, who has already been through so much. So you kept it bottled up and to yourself, only ever letting them surface in the dark when there was nobody but you and your demons.

The swift knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You shoved the feelings down and plastered on a smile.

“Come in! The door is unlocked”

“Hey y/n! I just wanted to let you know that Rhys and Feyre planned a dinner party at the House of Wind tonight!” Mor said

“Oh? That sounds quite last minute” you chuckled

“Yeah, something about diplomacy and putting on a strong front? I wasn’t paying too much attention. Anyway, I need a new dress for the occasion and was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the Rainbow later?”

“That sounds so lovely, but I have to run a few errands,” you lied. Your energy had seemed to have left you and you were barely keeping your front up. “You’re gonna look gorgeous in whichever dress you get” you quickly added, giving her a tight lipped smile.

Mor could sense that you weren’t yourself. “Are you feeling ok y/n? You sound a bit- off?”

“Oh yeah of course! I’m just a bit tired. I think I’m going to head down and grab a cup of coffee. You know I love my coffee.” you gave her a slight chuckle.

“Well, if you’re heading down, I’ll just come with you. I need to head out and pick up a few more things for the party anyway.”

You gave her another smile, closing the door to your room as you followed her down the stairs

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

Today was one of your bad days. Nothing you did could get your mind off the thoughts that haunted you. Normally, you were able to distract yourself, at least for a few hours, but today you could not evade them. They were the predator and you were their prey.

The inner circle was still in Windhaven. They were probably dealing with Devlon’s excuses as to why the females weren’t training. You knew they would be getting back soon though, since the party was soon.

Making your way back into the kitchen, you pulled out a kettle and filled it with water. Putting it on the stove and letting it boil, you grabbed a tall mug and some of your favorite tea powder. The kettle whistled and you poured the water into your mug. The first sip was comforting, the warmth spreading through your body. You closed your eyes and sighed, basking in the few moments of peace you had.

The wind whistled and you heard a series of thumps on the balcony. Opening your eyes, you saw that Azriel and the others had returned. Anger was painted over his face, but it vanished as soon as he saw you. He made his way over to you, giving you a quick peck on the lips. You breathed in his scent, the wind and the pine giving you a sense of comfort.

“So how did your check up with Devlon go?” you asked

Cassian let out a loud huff before anyone could respond

“Not well, I take it?”

“He keeps giving more chores to the females to keep them out of the training ring. I wanted to break his hand right there.” Azriel answered

“Oh Az, don’t worry, next time Devlon pulls shit like that, I give you and Cassian free reign to do whatever you want with him.” Rhys grinned out

“Oh mother I like the sound of that. God knows he needs to be put in his place.” Cassian sighed

“Devlon aside, are you guys ready for the party?” Feyre asked

“Fuck yeah, I’m in desperate need of booze” Cassian yelled out, causing all of you to laugh

“It sounds like fun, but I haven’t been feeling too well, so I think i’ll just stay home tonight.” you murmured

Azriel immediately put his attention on you. “Are you ok love? Do I need to call Madja?”.

“No no, don’t worry about me, I think I just need a little rest. You go to the party and have fun though. For me.” You knew that was the only way you would get him to go.

He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Az, darling, i’ll be fine”

He relented. “Fine. But if I sense anything is off, I’m coming home immediately.”

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

The other left to the House of Wind and you were finally left alone again. You wrapped yourself up in a blanket and lied down on your bed, drifting off.

A few hours later you woke up. Groaning, you made your way over to the bathroom. Gripping the counter, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You felt angry and disgusted. Your hand curled into a fist and before you could process what you were doing, the mirror shattered. You could feel the cuts on your hand, but the pain was the last thing on your mind.

Dropping your front, your thoughts and feelings flooded back into you. You felt the numbness washing over you as your feelings hounded you, ripping into you. You were so tired. You didn’t want to feel like this anymore. Why did you deserve anything?

Your self deprecating thoughts kept slamming into you.

You weren’t pretty enough. Azriel deserved better. He was only with you out of pity. He didn’t really love you. How could he ever love someone like you.

Finally the dam broke and your tears started flowing. Backing up to the wall, you slowly slid down, hugging your body, your sobs never ending.

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

What you hadn’t realized was for a split second, your hold on the bond had faltered, and all your emotions and pain had slammed into Azriel. He almost lost his footing, clutching his heart and holding onto Cassian to keep him from falling over.

“Az? Azriel, what's wrong?” Cassian shouted

“I-, I need to go home. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just need to check on y/n.”

Cassian didn’t have time to say anything else before Azriel disappeared into the shadows.

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

“Y/n? Y/n! Darling, where are you?” Azriel shouted as he got home

Rushing into your shared room, he heard your sobs and made his way to the bathroom. His heart clenched when he saw you. He immediately crouched down next to you, gently picking up your body and leaning it against his.

“A- Az?” You hiccuped out, tears blurring your vision “Wha- What are you doing here? I thought I closed the bond”. Another sob left your body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered into your hair, afraid you might break if his voice was any louder. “I could’ve helped you through this.”. One of his hands was wrapped around your bloodied one and the other one was gently rubbing your back.

“Why?” You spoke so softly that Azriel thought he imagined it.

“You deserve-” You took a deep breath to try and slow your tears, “You deserve so much more than me. Someone better than me. I’m nothing- I’m worthless. I’m not pretty enough or graceful enough. You should be with someone like Elain or Gwyn. Someone who is worthy of you. Someone who deserves your love”.

“That’s not your choice to make darling. I get to choose who I love, and I love you”

“I’m not worthy of your love” you whispered. “You shouldn’t be with someone like me. You shouldn’t have to deal with all my problems and insecurities. You should be with someone who doesn’t hate everything about themselves. You already deal with so much, you shouldn’t have this burden on you too.”. Tears burned the back of your throat.

“I’m no stranger to self-deprecation” Azriel laughed soundlessly “You’ve helped me through so many low points, it’s only fair i help you through yours. It’s what mates do. It what i’ll do, because I love you.”

“You shouldn’t” you cracked out

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” he whispered into your hair, pulling you closer to his chest. “Don’t shut me out. Please.”

At the sound of those words, you opened the bond and let Azriel see everything. You bore your soul to him and laid everything bare. You sobbed harder into his chest as he held you, sitting in the silence.

After you started feeling a bit better, Azriel lifted you up and placed you on the counter so he could clean your hand and wrap it in gauze. He quickly got changed and led the two of you to your bed.

“Did- Did you mean it?” you whispered out,

“Every word my love. Every single word.”

Pulling you close, he whispered sweet nothings till you drifted off.

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar x reader #acotar x reader #rhysand #cassian #acotar

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Sugar, Honey, Ice Tea | Chapter 5-9

1Summary: Fix-it-fic: Dr. Y/L/N and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Prison Violence, Assault, Blood, Depression, Murder, Self-Hatred, Hurt Spencer Reid, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Use, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Forbidden Love, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Requited Love, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, past abusive relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

Word Count: 14.3K

1-4, 5-9, Epilogue

Chapter 5

Spencer agreed to a Thursday night game night in her office sometime last week, and she’s spent every day since then planning it out for him.

Learning that he really loved Tandoori chicken, making it from scratch at home and packaging it into a couple containers to bring into work. She followed a recipe from Pinterest, hoping it bared any resemblance to what he was used to, only changing full chicken to boneless bite size cutlets, because he couldn’t use a knife in the prison.

She got a chess set at the store, as well as a deck of playing cards for the Vegas boy. Rushing out her door early Thursday morning so she could stop and get a coffee and one of his favourite doughnuts too.

Deciding that she wasn’t going to tell him how she felt any time soon, just wanting to show him friendship and support until he was finally out of prison. Vowing to uphold her oath, he was a patient in her care, she would care for him as such until he wasn’t.

She carefully placed her lunchbox and the chess set on the security desk, letting them look through it as she waited. Taking out all the food from her bag, looking through the plastic to ensure she wasn’t sneaking in anything.

“It’s just my lunch for the next 2 days, I promise,” she smiled.

“I know, but I have to look anyway,” the nice man smiled. “Have a good day today Dr. Pat.”

“Thank’s, you too, officer Kyle,” she smiled, picking her things back up and heading past the gates.

Spencer was turning the corner towards the infirmary as she walked towards the door. Officer Wilkins holding him in handcuffs as he roughly walked Spencer to her office.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she stopped, looking at Wilkins like he was an idiot. “Un-cuff inmate Reid, he’s not a threat. Plus, he can hold some things for me.”

“Whatever,” he huffed, roughly taking the cuffs off Spencer's wrists before leaving. Not saying another word.

“What a dick,” she mumbled as she handed him the lunchbox.

“Good morning Spencer,” she changed her tone to match her growing smile.

He sighed, smiling back as he rubbed his wrists. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”

She opened the infirmary door, walking past all the sleeping men in the care area. Unlocking her office before inviting Spencer in. “Sorry I was almost late,” she said softly, taking the chess set and a brown paper bag out of her purse.

She set it on Spencer's desk along with the coffee that was in her hand, “for all your help this week,” she smiled.

Spencer placed her lunchbox in her fridge, laying a hand on her back as he walked past her towards his desk. “You’re too kind to me,” he was bashful as always.

“I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” she closed the door softly, making sure the blinds on the doors window were closed as well.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he tried to joke as he sat down.

“I asked to help with your case, maybe give a fresh opinion, so Penelope sent me all the files but I haven’t opened them yet,” she sat on the edge of her desk. Trying to read his body language as he took out his donut.

He liked the pink frosting off his finger, nodding as he followed along. “Why not?”

“I wanted your permission,” she pressed her lips together in an awkward smiled. His eyes raising to meet hers, innocent as ever.

“Oh?”

“You’re very reserved, you have rules about what you share, I don’t want to break the trust we’ve built by looking into something so intimate,” she explained her thoughts. “It’s not fair for me to learn about the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, without you being the one to tell me.”

“What do you know already?” He asked softly, blinking at her as he patiently waited.

She smiled at him softly, grateful that he understood. “I know the 3 charges that you’re in on, and that you’re being framed.”

“I think I would prefer it if you read the file and just asked me questions. I don’t think I have the mental capacity to recite it all back to you today,” he was honest. Taking a sip of his coffee and looking away from her.

Giving up so much of himself to her so early in the day, she felt like he was finally comfortable with her.

She found the key to his thoughts and it opened just right, she could see the hurt that flowed through him, but she could also see the happiness. The side of him that he was afraid to bring out, in fear it would get him in more trouble.

“Okay,” she agreed. Sitting at her desk and finally opening the email form Penelope.

She read through his tox-screens, his drug history, his mental state. His first-hand accounts, witness statements, clues and findings his team had made. It all felt like the plot to a bad movie about revenge, possibly even female rage. But for what?

“I finished reading,” she said softly, brows furrowed as she chews the inside of her cheek. “Do you know anyone other than this Mr. Scratch guy who you’ve put away, wronged, lead on, or just pissed off?”

“Why?” He asked, clearly attached to the idea this was all Mr. Scratch’s doing.

“It feels like revenge, but very well planed. Like a women is mad at you so she found your weakness, I’ve done mean shit to exes in the past but this is insane. They knew you’d do anything for your mom, they knew your drug history, and the fact you might get schizophrenia one day, they wanted to drug you and make you think you did all this.”

Spencer stood then, listening to her words as he scrunched his face. Thinking as hard as he could, “can you call Penelope?”

“Yeah,” she nodded as she dialled her number, putting her on speaker phone.

“Well hello there, Love Doctor,” Penelope teased as she answered.

“Um hi, Spencer wanted to talk to you,” she panicked.

“Oh, sorry, how are you Spencer?”

Spencer looked so confused, “I’m good… Y/N and I were looking at the case files you sent-”

“Good, did you find anything?” Penelope cut in, eager to talk to him.

“Have you looked into everyone I’ve ever encountered on a case? Specifically women?” Spencer asked. “I told my lawyer and Emily that I remember a woman being there and helping, she must know me from a case too, like the other prison escapees he’s helped?”

“On it pretty boy, any specifics about her that you remember?” Penelope asked over the sound of her keyboard clicking away.

“Long brown hair, but it’s probably different now,” he added. “Everything else is dark, I didn’t see her face or any other features.”

“Alright, call me anytime Spence, I miss you,” Penelope said softly, changing her tone to a more sensitive one. “Take care of each other, my loves.”

“Love you,” they say at the same time. Looking at each other awkwardly after she hung up, leaving them to sit with their words alone.

Spencer was leaning so close to her she could feel his body heat radiating off him. Spencer placed his hand on her shoulder as he stood straight, towering over her as she looked up at him.

“I have patients to talk to, but I brought chess for you to teach me later,” she smiled up at him.

“Can’t wait,” he beamed a smile back.

She felt his hand rub the back of her blue scrubs lightly, pulling away as he walked back around to his desk. She watched him with careful eyes, wishing he would have stayed longer.

—

Normally at 4:30, Y/N would bring Spencer a tray of whatever the kitchen was serving her patients for dinner that night. Tonight, however, she walked into her office at 5 pm on the dot, closing the clinic for the night and putting all her attention on Spencer.

“So,” she smiled as she leaned against her office door, excitement radiating out of her. “A little birdie told me that you really like Indian food, Tandoori chicken to be exact…”

“No way?” He gasped as he turned around in his chair.

She nodded with a cheeky grin, “homemade so I could sneak it in.”

She took her lunch box out of her mini-fridge, opening it up to show him the 2 Tupperware containers. One for him, the other for her. She took the lids off and dished it onto 2 plates she keeps in the cabinet above the fridge.

Spencer grew more and more excited as she warmed it up, filling the room with a familiar smell. He was so happy, “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you do for me?”

“Come here,” she said softly, watching him walk towards her carefully.

She wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him in a hug. He carefully placed his hands on her back, holding her against his chest as he snuggled his cheek into her hair again.

“I’ll take hugs as payment from now on,” she pulled back from him as the microwaved beeped.

Taking a plastic spoon from the cutlery jar, she opened the microwave and handed him a plate. “Did you want to stay in here or go to the break room? I never use it cause I don’t have any co-workers, but it has a couch and a coffee table?”

“Okay,” he smiled. Taking the plate from her and waiting for her to warm up her own meal before taking a bite.

He was ever the gentleman.

Y/N reached back into her lunch box, taking out the package of naan bread, seeing Spencer’s eyes basically roll into the back of his head. “You thought of everything?”

“Bread is my life,” she laughed.

When her food was ready, she placed it on top of the chess box and led the way down to the break room. Spencer holding every door for her.

She flicked on the lights in the break room, watching them strobe before making that awful powering up frequency. She groaned, putting her food on the table before turning on a few lamps instead.

The room went from bright and anxious to relaxed and personal, the amber glow bouncing off the cream walls, it was nice. As nice as it could be in a prison. She never thought she’d be having a date at a prison.

That’s basically what this was, a date.

She made him dinner, they were going to play games, he was going to sit right beside her, close enough to kiss. She really wanted to, she’s thought about it a lot, his pink lips were perfect and she just wanted to see how they’d feel between her own.

But she wont.

“Dig in honey,” the name rolled over her tongue like it was always meant to.

She felt his eyes on her right away, realizing that she called him honey in a situation where he wasn’t crying, where he wasn’t vulnerable. She said it as a term of endearment, she couldn’t stop the embarrassment form settling in her veins.

She sat beside his softly, picking up her dinner and pretending it didn’t happen. “Thank you,” Spencer cut into the awkwardness.

“You’re welcome,” she said softly. Feeling like she could flip inside out at any moment.

From the corner of her eye she saw him take the first bite, closing his eyes as he appreciated the moment. His shoulders settled as he chewed, she could swear he almost moaned as he ate it. She has had the food in the cafeteria before, she understood his reaction.

“That good?” She asked, teasing him softly.

He nodded, silent as he took it all in. He took another bite, and another, she felt like he was going to get the hiccups at this rate but it was too cute to stop. He was like a stray dog eating inside for the first time in months, it made her happy and then a little sad.

He stayed quiet the whole time. Crossing his legs as he sat on the couch, the plate pulled in close to his chest as he shovelled spoonfuls of food into his mouth. She sat there admiring him as he did so, falling more and more every time she glanced at him.

“That was delicious,” Spencer said as he stood, placing his plate on the counter across the room. “Are you done?” He asked, taking her plate as she reached it out to him.

“Yeah, thanks,” she watched him carefully, always wanting to help her in whatever way he could.

He didn’t sit on the couch when he came back, instead, sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, taking the chess set out and beginning to set it up. Not wanting to miss a moment of the freedom he felt when he was with her.

“So, chess is pretty easy to learn,” he said, looking up at her through thick eyelashes as he spoke. “Do you know any of the rules yet?”

“Um, I know where they all go, I know that you can’t go through other pieces and the horse gets to jump?” She tried to remember all the way back to grade 4, the last time someone explained the rules to her.

He was so soft with her, explaining the rules and showing her what to do. His hand would lightly brush over hers occasionally, eventually, he’d just guide her hand over the pieces that she should move. It was so nice to just be alone with him, knowing they were both allowed to be happy.

The room was mostly silent, only the sound of Spencer's advice and her giggle as she still wasn’t grasping the concept of the game.

“I just like, don’t care about the rules?” She couldn’t stop giggling at the fact she wasn’t picking up on anything he said.

Spencer laughed, it was deep and hearty, right from his soul, “then how do you want to play?”

She picked up the queen and moved it to a random spot, “I want to put this here and fight your guy. That’s why I don't get this, what is my XP? What are their skills? I was raised on Pokemon, honey.”

He made his way back to the couch, sitting closely beside her. “Well sugar pie, do you have any other games you want to play?”

She couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and pressing her lips against his. His hands wrapped around her waist on instinct as they connected.

It was everything she imagined. Soft, gentle, refreshing. Like a cold glass of ice tea on a hot summers day. She wanted more, never letting up as she kissed him.

Spencer was the one to pull off first, “shit,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared at him, horrified.

He laughed, smiling at her softly. “It’s okay,” he promised, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

She doesn’t stop him from pulling her back in, holding her hand on his cheek as he kissed her again. Hungrier than before, Spencer’s tongue was on a mission. He tastes like dinner, but with his own Spencer difference.

Kissing him felt like a fairytale coming true.

She forgot where they were, his hands on the back of her scrubs and her hands in his hair as their mouths clashed. She started to lay back on the couch, pulling him down on top of her.

“We can't,” he pants against her lips. Regretting it as he pulls away from her.

“Sorry, this was unprofessional I know,” she tried to play it off.

Spencer pulled her back in, flush against his chest once more. “No, I don’t regret it. It’s just, I’m not ready.”

“Oh,” she says softly. Then it clicks, “oh, oh my god, Spencer I’m so sorry I forgot. I didn’t mean to push you into anything,” she worries, running her hands over his arms softly.

He shakes his head, “you didn’t. I want to, believe me, I just don’t think I can handle the after part…”

“I cried for 3 hours after I had sex again, after everything,” she told him in complete honesty. Not even Savannah or Derek knew that.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” she assured him. “You shouldn’t have to be the only vulnerable one here, I want you to know about me.”

“You don’t have to tell me the details, I don’t want to think about someone hurting you,” he whispered, his eyes innocently studying her face for how she was feeling.

“Okay, so here’s everything else,” she was still holding his face in her hands. Rubbing her thumb over his cheeks. “I had 2 moms and a little sister, and I was raised in Boston. I met Savannah in 2004, I worked with her until a few years ago. She’s my best friend, Derek is like my big brother.”

She gave him the basics, “I don’t have a dad, my mom used the same donor for me and my sister, so I’ve never really felt safe around men because I never knew many.”

“Understandable,” he smiled softly. “what’s your mom like?”

“She died when I was 26,” she pressed her lips together awkwardly. “I haven’t talked to her wife since then, my other mom, she remarried not long after. I think she was cheating on my mom when she was going through chemo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“I can relate to a lot of the stories I know about you already. My mom was my world, I don’t know my dad. I’ve been hurt by people, I’ve lost a lot of myself while trying to help others,” she brushed her nose against his softly. Letting him know she wasn’t pulling back any time soon. “Who you are is not what you did, or what you’ve been through.”

He kisses her again softly. Breathing in through his nose lightly, his hand on her back pulling her in closer and closer. He didn’t want to let her go, and she was more than happy staying in his embrace forever.

He pulled back softly, “I lied to you.” He whispered against her lips.

“When?” She asked, scared to know the answer.

“I do remember you from Derek’s wedding, he told me about you a long time ago. I told him I was ready for dating again when you told him about Mark,” he couldn’t look at her.

“That’s not a huge lie,” she smiled softly. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking at you all night, with that little blond boy. You two were so sweet, Mark got really mad at me for staring at you actually.”

“Derek told me when he hurt you, he came to my apartment right after so he wouldn’t go and kill him,” Spencer’s voice was so low she had to stare at his lips to understand him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she shook her head softly, kissing the tip of his nose. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want to go back to my cell,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.

Breaking her heart in the process.

She kissed his cheeks and his lips a few times, peppering kisses to his soft face to make up for it. “We can’t do this again until you’re free,” she whispered.

“I understand.”

“So you better think long and hard about this woman you remember so I can track her down and shove her in that cell instead,” Y/N’s stern voice made him smile.

“Thank you,” he replied again, hugging her the way he promised he would thank her from now on.

—

For being 9 pm on a spring night, it was rather warm in the Vermont parking lot. She left the prison a while ago, not able to leave Spencer’s gravitational pull yet as she sat there, staring at the prison thinking about him alone in his cell instead of pressed against her chest for the rest of the night.

Thinking about the feeling of Spencer’s hands on her body and his tender lips. Her hand over her mouth as she remembered how his bottom lip ghosted over her own, the anticipation was enough to light her on fire.

She took out her phone and called Derek, knowing he would put her on speaker if they were already in bed for the night. Really needing her best friends right now.

“Hey kick-ass, how are you doing today?” Derek’s voice was overly cheery, “Hey!” Savannah added in the background.

“I’m in love with him.”

Chapter 6

She barely slept anymore. Waking up at 6 am every morning without her alarm clock, her heart physically aching to return to Spencer's side after a night without him. She felt like a love-sick school girl, wanting to be with him all day even if they had nothing to say. Just looking at him was enough to make her happy.

A few weeks passed. Weeks filled with smiles and laughter, singing and reading, inside jokes and shared jello cups. She was so madly in love with him, hugging him every morning when he arrived and every night before he left. Keeping her word, kissing him on the cheek every so often instead.

She started a routine of picking up a coffee and a donut for Spencer every single Thursday, worried that he probably thought about his case all night, yet again. Which only kept her up worrying all night about him, wondering if he was doing okay all alone.

Only getting sleep when she remembered that he had a photo of her, his mom, Derek and hank with him. He’d be okay.

She walked into the infirmary to find Jerry and Mike waiting for her with a guard. Mike bleeding all down his face while Jerry held his clearly broken hand.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” she sighed. Putting all her things in her office before coming back to care for them.

She excused the guard, telling him she had it from here. They wouldn’t put up any more fights with her, they looked up to her like a momma bear, and they were her terrible cubs.

“It is 7:33 am, who the fuck did you have to fight this early?” She whisper yelled at them. Not wanting to wake Leo in the care ward, “who is worth this?”

“You don’t want to know,” Mike said under his breath.

“Well clearly he’s not here, is he dead or in violent crimes? If you two fucked up our plan of me helping you during parole next year, I’m going to be pissed,” she tried her best to entice the answers out of them.

“It was Shaw,” Jerry said softly. “He was planning to hurt the new guy, he’s all fake buddy-buddy with him.”

“Excuse me?” She panicked.

“He’s been talking to Milos at night in the locker room, Wilkins lets him out of his cell and into gen-pop,” Mike carried on the story as she tried to clean the blood off his eyebrow.

“What are they going to do to Spence?”

“Spence?” Jerry teased her, poking her side. “I didn’t know he had a nickname already. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“I’ve kept him locked away to be safe, I’m going to find a way to keep him here at night,” She said softly. “He’s best friends with my brother, I can’t let him get hurt.”

“So you knew him in freedom land?”

She nodded, “a little.”

“All you need is a bandaid,” she changed the subject as she reached into her kit. “And Jerry I’m going to have to set your fingers back in place, if you scream in my face, I will kick you in the nuts.”

They laughed at her fake tuff guy act, never actually being able to hurt them. They were her buddies, giving her a big hug after she finished with them. Getting them both a pudding and telling them to stay put for the day if they wanted to.

Spencer found her in the lab when he arrived, she knew it was him when the door opened, no one else had a passkey to get in. She was writing down some numbers on a chart when he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She dropped her pen and turned around in his grasp, holding his face in her hands immediately as she pulled him into a quick kiss.

“I thought you said I couldn’t do that again till I’m free?” He asked softly. Kissing her a second time as he finished.

She smiled against his lips, “you’re free when we’re alone.”

He kissed her harder. His hands around her waist as he picked her up slightly. Twirling her around as they kissed, she laughed against his skin. Unable to stop herself from smiling as she held onto him.

She kissed him one last time as he put her down on the floor, “I have a coffee and donut for you in my office.”

“You’re too good to me, Sugar Pie.”

“Anything for you, Honey Bunch,” she bit her lip as she smiled at him again. So absolutely overwhelmed with love for him.

“I actually have a serious question to ask you,” his tone changed, making her concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m still trying to figure out more about that night, and I think I want to try exposure therapy,” he explained. “I was wondering if you’d help me get high, so I can remember what happened in the same mindset.”

“Okay,” she nodded softly. “I can book you in for the night here, say you’re under observation, and I’ll stay here with you.”

“Are you sure?”

She kissed him softly again, looking up at him with a smile after. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll help you. But we need some ground rules.”

“Of course,” he agreed. Letting go of her as she stepped back, leaning against the counter now.

“No kissing, nothing like that, we’ll do it in my office so you can be alone and then later you’ll sleep in the observation room. Leo is in there, he’s harmless and sleeps all night on his morphine anyway,” she explained. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, I don’t want you to regret it. It’s going to be hard to sober up again once you get a taste of euphoria in here.”

He nodded along as she set the rules, “those are good. Thank you.”

“They drugged you with heroin, and while I know where to get some, I’m not letting you do that,” she laughed. “I have Dilaudid in pills and liquid morphine.” Letting him pick his poison.

“The pills will be fine,” he said softly.

“Alright,” she smiled. “And if you want, when you get out I can take you to a meeting? You’ll need to talk to someone other than me, someone who gets it.”

“You’ll stay with me after all this?”

“As long as you let me,” she felt her heart grow 3 sizes at the way his puppy dog eyes stared back at her. “Go have your breakfast and I will come to see you soon, okay honey?”

His smile was glorious, she could feel the love radiating off him as he looked at her. It felt wonderful, knowing at that moment her feelings weren’t one-sided. That he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. He was going to be good to her.

—

She had mike and Jerry help her move the couch from the break room and into her office, allowing them to meet Spencer, finally. It was awkward at first, two big muscle men telling him how much they also loved their Sugar.

“Should we tell him?” Mike nudged Jerry.

“What?” Spencer asked softly, sitting at his desk on the other side of the room, really not enjoying their alpha energy.

“Shaw, Milos and Wilkins are all secretly buddies, they were planning to hurt you and so Mike and Jerry beat Shaw up in the yard,” she scrunched her face as she explained it, not ready for his reaction.

“How?”

“After they cut that kid's throat, they wanted to get you to run heroin for them. But you ended up in here, we heard them in gen-pop last night saying they wanted to get you,” Jerry explained as he played with the bandages on his hand. “He won't be out of the violent offender's infirmary for a while.”

“Thank you,” he replied to them with a pressed-lipped smile. “I need to call my team about the case.”

That was their queue to leave, Y/N patting them on the back for the help, telling them they could stay with Leo or go back to the yard, she didn’t care. They just couldn’t be in her office for this.

Spencer looked a little pissed off. “I didn’t ask them to do that,” she said, defensively.

“I’m not mad at you,” he shakes his head softly as steps into her space. “You’re the only person I can trust in here.”

She placed her hand on his chest softly, “call Penelope. Take your time on the phone with the team.” She handed him her cell phone, “FaceTime them if you want. See their faces, it’ll be okay.”

He hugged her, a silent thank you. She ran her hands over his back as she pressed her face into his neck. Holding back every instinct to tell him she loved him as she pulled away.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled. Taking her phone, “how do I?”

She couldn’t help laughing, “here,” she dialled Penelope’s cellphone number and hit the FaceTime button.

Seeing her beautiful, bright and bubbly face smile as she answered. “Hey! Oh my god, hold on,” they watched as she got up and ran down a hallway.

Spencer was instant giggles and smiles, a side of him she’s never seen before. True, pure love. This was his family, these were his people. She could see herself fitting into his little world one day.

“Guys! It’s Spencer!” She yelled as she ran into another room.

“What’s wrong?” “Is he okay?”

Suddenly she turned the phone sideways to show all his co-workers. “Hi!” He waved to them.

“Spence!” Emily and JJ cheered, “oh you look so good.”

“I feel good, how are you all?” He asked softly, taking her phone and sitting down at his desk.

She watched him softly from the door, slipping out when she saw his attention was fully on his past life. She walked down the hall towards the lab, hearing his laughter through the walls.

—

She placed 2 pills in a plastic cup, taking an apple juice and jello from the fridge for Spencer. She placed it on his desk 20 minutes before his shift ended, giving him a little space to decide when he wanted to. He told her that he get’s cold when he comes down from a high, so she leaves a fluffy blanket and a pillow on the couch before slipping back out of the room.

She returned to the care unit, looking over Leo as he got ready for the night. Administering his meds and wishing him a good night. She closed his curtain, so when Spencer eventually went to bed he wouldn’t be disturbed.

When she finally settled into her office for the night, Spencer was in the dark. Sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. “Hey,” he said softly.

“How are you?” She asked softly. Closing the door behind herself. Locking it and making sure all the blinds were closed.

“It’s going to hit soon,” he said softly. Suddenly embarrassed and closed off, hiding from her as he laid down.

She didn’t want to bother him, sitting at her desk with her reports. The light from the computer is just enough to see what she was looking at. She glanced at him every few minutes to make sure he was okay.

He enjoys it at first, a blissed-out look on his face as his head is tossed back against the couch. She knows the exact euphoria he’s feeling, she understood perfectly why someone would want to escape like that.

Then his face changes as he starts to hate it, he mumbles to himself with his eyes squeezed shut, she could see him gripping the sheets as he tries to force himself to remember.

She’s uncomfortable watching it, feeling like an intruder. She tried to only focus on her work, flipping through emails and Twitter, scrolling through Facebook for the first time in months to preoccupy her mind.

He was like that for at least an hour.

She could hear his teeth chattering as he came down, just like he said would happen. “You okay, honey?”

“Y-yeah,” he tried to speak through the shaking. “C-can we cuddle?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, turning on her desk lamp before joining him on the couch.

She pulled him up into a sitting position, sitting where his head once was and letting him settle into her lap. She ran her hands through his hair, combing through the locks as she shushed him. Running her hand up and down his back in a tender motion, he snuggled into her leg.

“I’m not that high anymore,” he says softly.

“I know, it’s okay if you are. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

It makes her stop. Her whole body stills at the words, he wanted to clarify so she’d know it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. She closes her eyes and squeezes them shut, biting her lip as she tries not to burst into tears.

He felt it too.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, “sit up.” She instructs him softly.

She laid down against the couch then, waiting for him to snuggle into her side. Wrapping the blanket around them both as they found the most comfortable position.

“Sorry,” he whispered against the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay, it just feels wrong for me to say it back right now. I feel the same, believe me, Spencer.” She wanted to assure him to the best of her ability. “But you’re still an inmate in my care, I can’t. Not yet.”

“You don’t have to,” he pulled back to look her in the eyes, his own still droopy from how tired the drugs made him. “I’m going to love you regardless.”

She broke her own rules. Kissing him softly, holding him close to her, under the blanket where both their body heat was trapped. She had never felt safer in her entire life.

Spencer only crawling into that bed in the care ward when he woke up to her alarm the following morning.

Chapter 7

There’s someone banging on her office door just a little after 8 am. She was in the middle of putting a new pair of scrubs on over her long-sleeve undershirt, the banging on her door doesn’t stop until she opens the door.

“What?” She yells at them.

It’s Officer Wilkins. “Where is inmate Reid? We have a visitor for him.”

“No one is scheduled to see him today?”

“There is now. Where is he?” The man towered over her. Trying his best to intimidate her.

“Care ward. I’ll get him. You can go wait in the waiting room,” she pushes past him. Watching him stumble as he hits the wall.

“He’s not worth dying over,” he whispers under his breath.

She doesn’t leave Reid’s side as Wilkins attempts to escort him to an interrogation room. Y/N stands in the observation room as Spencer waits, cuffed to the table. Looking through the mirror at each other, only he couldn’t see her. He just knew she would be there.

“Mom?” Spencer’s shocked voice breaks her out of her thoughts as she sees Diana walking into the room.

A dark-haired woman she’s never met before escorting her in. Y/N whips her phone out to take a quick photo before running back to her office as quickly as she can.

Y/N: I need you to check on Cassie, Diana’s nurse. Someone I don’t know just brought Diana to the prison.

She attached the photo she took, setting her phone down to looking through the visitor's logs on her computer. Wanting to know the name of the woman accompanying Diana.

“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice says from her doorway.

She looks up at him from her desk. Wilkins is stepping into her space with a look of guilt, taking his baton off his belt.

“You don’t have to do this,” she backed up against the wall, trying to keep as much distance from him as possible.

“I have to,” his tone changed. Like a personality switch, his eyes darkened as he charged at her.

She ran around the desk, watching him follow. Punching her in the face, causing her to fall back against the couch, she didn’t want him to get on top of her. Dropping to the carpeted floor as he dove onto the couch.

She crawled on the floor towards the door as he tried to get up. Standing as fast as she could, roundhouse kicking him in the face with a grunt. Her foot hit his jaw at just the right angle, rendering him unconscious.

She reached for his cuffs as soon as he hit the floor, “Leo!! Help!” She screamed down the hall.

She heard bare feet running down the hall, followed by the sound of rubber on linoleum. “Sugar??” Mike and Jerry yelled as they followed.

“Watch him,” she insisted once the cuffs were on him. “Hurt him if you have to.”

She took the second pair of cuffs off Wilkins's belt before running out of the room, her lip busted and bleeding down her neck.

She ran down the hall towards Spencer, busting into the room and knocking the nurse to the ground. Struggling to get her onto her stomach, “stop struggling, who the fuck are you?”

“Get off me!” She screamed in return.

Y/N cuffed her and pulled her to her feet, pushing her against the stone wall.

“What is going on?” Spencer stood up, cuffed to the table so he couldn’t help.

“Wilkins just attacked me, Diana wasn’t supposed to be here,” she said over her shoulder in Spencer’s direction. “So I’ll ask again,” she whispered in the woman's ear as she pushed her against the wall harder. “Who, the fuck! Are you?”

“He knows me,” she spat out.

Y/N ripped her off the wall, making her look at Spencer who was shocked, speechless as he tried to remember her face. “Who is she?”

“She told me Cassie was fired, she’s been with me all morning?” Diana tried to explain, slightly freaking out.

“I sent her photo to Penelope, I need a guard,” Y/N said, hauling the unknown women into the hall with her.

—

The prison was put on lockdown as they tried to figure out this security breach. Wilkins and the nurse being held in prison custody as they waited for the BAU team to fly in.

Figuring out that her name was Lindsay Vaughn, Spencer remembered as much as he could about her. How he tried to save her dad, losing him to his carnal need to kill. Lindsay following closely in her daddy's footsteps.

Diana sat at Spencer’s desk, Mike and Jerry stand watch at the door. Y/N was sitting on top of her desk in front of Spencer, it was his turn to run alcohol over her cuts. Holding her face in his hands as he cared for her.

“I'm sorry,” he mouths the words at her. Not wanting his mother to overhear them.

She nods in response, unable to smile as the cut on her lips stings. All things considered, she could have been in a lot worse condition if it wasn’t for Derek and her training.

She wants to kiss him, she can tell he’s looking over her shoulder at his mom. Waiting to make sure she’s not looking before he leans in a little closer.

Pressing their lips together as silently as possible, his eyes still on her’s as they did so. It’s the most tender kiss she’s ever had, “I’m okay Spence,” she said softly as he pulled back.

“I’m still sorry you were dragged into this,” holding her against his chest softly.

From where she was sitting on top of her desk, she placed her head on his chest, holding him as close as she could, his cheek resting on her head. She wrapped her legs around him, not wanting to let him go, ever.

Needing the comfort he brought her, now more than ever.

When Derek and she started training again it was mostly to help her feel safe. To know what to do if it happened again. She didn’t ever expect it to, thinking it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. That she’d learn from it and then she wouldn’t be in this situation again, being punched in the face by a man.

She started to cry, the throbbing pain in both her face and her foot taking over as the adrenaline dissipated, she was too overwhelmed to do anything more. He let her cry against him, rubbing his hand on her back as he kissed her forehead.

She couldn’t wait for him to get out of here, and she was going to leave with him.

—

Derek is the first to burst through the door. Wrapping Spencer up in the biggest hug she’s ever seen him give. Rocking Spencer back and forth in his grasp as he kissed Spencer's cheek a few times.

He pulled back, holding Spencer's face in his hands. Smiling so he didn’t cry, “they’re dropping the charges.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope,” Derek shakes his head adding, “You’re free.” Expecting Spencer to hug him again.

Instead, Spencer turns to Y/N and pulls her into a kiss. She’s startled at first, eyes wide open as Spencer’s hands find her waist and pulls her right up against him.

She can't help but settle against him. Holding his face in her hands as she kisses him back. He picks her up slightly, spinning her around with his face buried in her neck as she yelps.

Everyone in the room watching him celebrate with her in shocked silence.

He placed her back on the ground, kissing her one last time. “You did it, Spence,” she smiles at him.

“We did it.”

She hears someone clearing their throat. Both of them turning to see the Warden as well as the entire BAU team standing in her doorway. But they don’t pull apart, Spencer’s hand stays on her side as they wait to get yelled at.

“I quit,” Y/N said before he could say anything to her, “and I might sue.”

“I’m suing for sure,” Spencer added.

“We’re terribly sorry for the condition of your stay Doctor Reid. And Doctor Y/L/N, I’ll never be able to make it up to you. I’m incredibly sorry for what Wilkins did,” the warden tried to cover his ass from a bureau lawsuit.

“Too late for that,” Emily added. Stepping into the room more. “Doctor Reid will be leaving with us, now.”

“Understood,” the Warden hurried out of the room before any more damage could be done.

Everyone took a turn hugging Spencer then. A handful of them even hugging Y/N as well.

Emily wrapped Y/N up in a hug, rubbing her back the way she would all those years before. “Thank you, you have no idea what he means to us.”

“I think I do,” she laughed against her. “If that’s not weird?”

“Not at all,” she pulled back, looking at Y/N with her big beautiful eyes, her bangs pushed out of the way so she could take a good look again. “You two are good together.”

She smiled, “thanks Em.”

“We need to fill him in on everything, will you stay with Diana?” Emily asked.

“Of course, I’m just going to be packing up some things anyway,” she said as she turned to Spencer. “Have fun with your friends, honey.”

“Thanks, sugar,” he kissed her on the cheek before walking out. Everyone whistling and hollering at the boldness Dr. Reid had developed in prison.

They all filed out after him, she watched the door with a soft smile as they wandered down the hall, Spencer taking them to the break room so they could chat.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Diana’s small voice came from Spencer’s desk.

“Oh, Diana,” she smiled. “Can I give you a hug?”

Diana nodded as she walked over to her, wrapping her up in a hug, much like how Spencer would. She can imagine Spencer’s hugs once feeling like this, imagining him small and shy, holding her slightly. Unlike his more beefy, relaxed form since being in prison.

“He means the world to me too,” she says softly as Diana pulls away.

“You saved him, if he didn’t have you he might not still be my soft and sweet little Spencer,” Diana patted her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making him,” she laughed slightly. “He’s a wonderful man, I have a feeling you played a big role in that.”

Her smile was just like his. The smile of a mother, someone who was going to love him forever, maybe she’d love her too. Y/N felt a little emotional, this could be her family one day.

Chapter 8

There was a lot of information to process as she sat at the BAU round table.

Learning the entire plot of some women’s revenge against Spencer, just how much Wilkins and Lindsay were involved, the crazy scheme they planned and how terribly it would have ended if she wasn’t there.

Spencer, on the other hand, was visiting this Cat person in prison. The one who orchestrated it all, the one who was obsessed with Spencer, the love of her life, to the point she might be having his baby. He had some things to settle with her.

He was on edge before he left, going with Derek and JJ while Y/N stayed back with Diana. David Rossi had even offered to let them all stay at his guest house later that night, seeing as Spencer’s apartment was a crime scene.

Lindsay murdered Cassie, leaving her dead body on Spencer’s apartment floor. Ruining the place he was so desperate to return to.

She was a little out of it. Trying to think of everything that happened and everything she would have to do in the next few days. Compiling a list in her mind as the anxiety bubbled in her gut.

She needed a new job and a new place to live. First, she’d have to go back to Vermont to pack, and she’d have to find a way to support her boys on Parole. And Mike and Jerry.

She put her hands over her face and rested against the table. Overwhelmed with everything, her face still hurting, the lights were too much, she was tired.

Then she was crying softly.

“Hey,” Emily rubbed her back softly. “Shhh, it’s okay, what’s wrong Y/N?”

She sat up and wiped her eyes with a small laugh, embarrassed that her kinda ex-girlfriend was comforting her. “I’m stressed?” She answered, not even really sure herself.

Emily smiled while she nodded, looking so different now than she did back when they first met. Older, but in a beautiful way, gracefully becoming who she was always meant to be. “I get it, believe me.”

She remembered Derek saying she ‘died’ once. How they buried her casket and how pissed they were when they found out she was actually alive. Y/N only knew Emily re-born, as they called her.

She was always caring, always wanted to comfort and make people happy. It was the way she coped with hurting them all, but it carried on past the team. It carried on to strangers, victims, sometimes even unsub’s.

And most definitely Y/N.

There was a part of Y/N that wonders what loving Emily would have been like; if it would have felt half as good as loving Spencer. Or would it be better? She’d never really know, but she could imagine it would have been nice.

“How can we help?” Emily asked, still as wonderful as ever.

“I need a new job,” she laughed. “Can Penelope use her mad skills to find a reputable business in need of a doctor around here?”

“Are you moving back to Virginia?” She smiled at the thought.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, a smile growing on her face. “I’m kind of attached to Spencer now.”

“Good, maybe Derek can help you find a place, he has like, what 7? Right now that he’s fixing up?” Emily threw out ideas. “You’ll get the ball rolling soon, it’ll all be fine.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on him, I know you would never but, I was worried he had lost all hope and you never did. Thank you.”

Emily hugged her again, not saying anything. Y/N knew there was nothing to thank her for, this was a family. They would kill for each other if they needed to.

“Let’s go see Penelope,” Emily replied as she pulled away. Standing and extending a hand for Y/N.

The BAU offices were so interesting, many people running around to get jobs done before the end of the day as the main team chilled. It was like any other office she was in; controlled chaos and hierarchy.

Diana was sitting with Penelope in her office, flipping through a scrapbook while eating a jello cup. It made her smile to see it ran in the family.

“Hey,” Penelope cheered as she noticed them.

“I was just going to ask for some help with something, I see you’re busy,” Y/N awkwardly commented on the situation.

“Oh, we’re not,” Diana said. “I was showing her photos of Spencer. Would you like to see them?”

“I’d love to, um while I’m here, Penelope would you be willing to help me search for a good job?” She asked a lot mousier than Spencer would have if he was asking her for something.

“Of course, what are we looking for?” She wheeled to her main computer, cracking her knuckles as she got ready to look.

“Um, anyone hiring a GP close to here, I’m willing to go all the way to DC for work,” she explained. “I just want a place where I won't get punched again,” she tried to laugh at the trauma.

“The sanatarium is hiring, they’ve got good ratings and not a lot of patient complaints, they’re looking for a physician to care for the elderly members of the program,” Penelope explained as she clicked through screen after screen of info.

“That would be nice,” she smiled towards Diana. “Did you like the one you were at?”

“Oh yes,” Diana mused. “I had many friends there, I miss them and the social aspect. For a bunch of loons, I really loved the company.” She laughed at herself.

“I send the link to you,” Penelope smiled. “Now let me see his little baby bum again that one is my favourite, he’s so funny,” she leaned back in close to Diana.

All the pictures were priceless. Seeing Spencer grow up, page after page, every award and accomplishment displayed proudly. It made her miss her family, the love that a mother could bring to her life.

She got a little emotional, trying to nonchalantly wipe the tear off her cheek as she watched Diana flip a page.

“Are you okay?” She asked softly.

Y/N laughed, “yeah I just miss my mom.” She scrunched her nose so that the tears stayed in, waving her hand in front of her face as she tried to blink the tears back.

“Where is she?” An innocent question opening the floodgates.

“She had cancer,” Y/N cried softly. Not noticing as Emily and Penelope left the room. Giving them a space to bond.

“She died when I was 26,” she explained.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Diana placed her hand on Y/N’s back as she rubbed her softly. “Do you have any other family?”

“My moms are gay, well. After my mom died I stopped talking to her wife, yes she raised me but she hurt my mom too much for me to love her like a parent,” Y/N unloaded her trauma onto Diana, it must be genetic to find comfort in the Reids.

“Spencer never had a father either,” Diana related to her. “After William left it was just us, and Spencer stepped up to being the man of the house. He’s always been thrown into situations where he has no control but he needs to make the decisions. You’re probably the best person he could be with, he doesn’t have to take care of you.”

“Cause I baby him,” she laughed as she wiped stray tears off her cheeks. “He’s pretty wonderful, you did a fantastic job. Both of you did, look at the love you have. This is a perfect family.”

She gestured to the book of photos, seeing the love beaming off Diana’s face as she held a 12-year-old Spencer in her arms. Braces, on his face, thick glasses, long hair. He was adorable.

“You’re welcome to join,” Diana offered softly. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked softly.

“Why have more when you can stop at perfection,” she smiled, the same wonderful smile Spencer had.

“That he is,” she agreed. “Thank you for him.”

“Thank you, I mean it when I say you saved him,” Diana’s serious look making Y/N cry again.

“I know,” she cried. “And I’d do it again.”

In a heartbeat.

—

Rossi had 3 rooms ready for use in his guest house. Only 2 were ever used during their stay. They spent a few nights recovering together, helping Diana into a new routine for a few days while trying to just spend as much time as possible together out in the real world.

Rossi’s property was huge, never-ending even. He had lake access, ponds with ducks, fields and fields of long grass topped with flowers. It was like a dream getting to explore it together.

Happiness hit her like a freight train, smacking her in the chest and knocking the wind out of her.

She blinked and suddenly she had been waking up in Spencer’s arms for a week straight. Going on adventures together, waiting for him with a coffee outside his NA meetings, holding him all night long.

He had a hard time adjusting to a real bed again, it was too soft. He spent most of his time with his head on Y/N's chest, letting her rub his back slowly as she kissed his head, helping him drift off to sleep every single night. Causing her to fall deeper and deeper in love with him.

Every day beside him was a blessing, no longer was he a dog trapped in a cage. He was free, running with her through the fields like wild horses.

She woke up with him still snuggled into her, arm around her waist, legs tangled together, his face right in the crook of her neck. His hot breath on her skin being the thing that finally woke her up.

Absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair, eyes still closed as she woke up. Snuggling her cheek against the top of his head, causing him to pull her in tighter. Both of them slowly coming alive again.

“I love you,” her voice coarse from sleeping with her mouth open, dry as she licked her lips. It was the only thought that came to her mind. Not even realizing it was the first time she’s said it to him.

Spencer kissed her neck softly, “I love you.”

She couldn’t believe the happiness she was feeling, almost positive that even in her saddest moments she still loved him just this much. He was everything, even under all the scares and trauma, he was the most wonderful person in her whole world. And she was beyond blessed to be holding him in her arms.

The sun was barely up yet, having fallen asleep around 10 pm last night, they were up way earlier than they expected. It was so nice, the deep orange light of the morning sun creeping through the window behind the bed.

“Do you want to go watch the sun come up?” She asked softly.

“Yeah,” he nodded softly. Sitting up with her to get ready.

They put on track pants and sweaters and shoes, grabbing a few blankets and heading outside. A few minutes of walking behind Rossi’s house led them towards a beautiful little pond, they laid out 2 blankets over the dew-soaked grass before cuddling on top of it.

The birds were performing for them, the clouds were cleaning into the most beautiful morning blue sky she had ever seen. She couldn’t help herself from holding him tighter against the blanket.

The sun shined on the water, casting beautiful pinks and oranges across the surface as it stretched into the sky. A few ducks followed their mommas in the May morning breeze, quacking in agreement as they swam across the pond. Playing a game of following the leader.

It was a dream, she was sure of it. It was all too perfect to be real.

Including Spencer, he laid there softly underneath her, holding her against his chest as she appreciated the world around them. His attention only on her, even after being locked up for 3 months. He would always choose her.

“I’m so happy,” she said softly. “You make me so happy.”

He kissed her on the forehead, pushing her back against the blanket so he could kiss her whole face as she laid there. Smiling as she held his sides, letting him smother her in affection.

When he finally stops kissing her, he brushes her hair behind her ear. Cupping her face with one hand as he looks at her. The sun casting a vibrant glow on the both of them as they appreciated each other for a moment.

“I don’t know how I made it so long without you,” he finally speaks. “But I never want to do it again.”

“Move in with me?” She replied without a second thought. “I need to find a place here anyway, and I doubt you want to go back to your apartment.”

“I already asked Derek for the place he was fixing on Wilmont, it’s close to the sanatarium, mom wants to be social again,” he filled her in on his plans. “We just have to sign the lease.”

“We?” She teased him.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“Good,” she smiled as she pulled him into another kiss. “Because I love you, too.”

Spending time with Spencer was intimacy in its purest form. It was a relationship built on trust, respect, and mutual love. It was the first time in her life she felt truly in love, not mesmerized by the idea of it.

She trusted him when he said that he loved her. She believed him when held her when he talked to her about his day or the most random things his mind could conjure. When he’d just hold her, enjoying her presence without wanting anything more than just her.

Chapter 9

They arrived in Vermont early on a Saturday morning, heading to her apartment to pack everything up. It was just the two of them this time, flying in together, half asleep at the break of dawn.

Only bringing 1 bag with her essentials for the next 2 days, hoping to pack her whole life into a truck and pray it arrived in Virginia okay.

And she got to show Spencer her space. A personal side of her that he had no idea about. He knew her mind, her feelings, her trauma, but he didn’t know what her personality was really like outside of loving him.

He was surprised by the amount of stuff she had. Wandering around her apartment quietly as she started taping boxes into shape.

Rented white walls enclosed the space when she moved in, not being able to paint them or anything felt wrong to her. So she covered them in photos, artwork and posters. Bringing the space to life with a touch of colour.

Mostly neons, having an affinity for green and purple accent pieces. Not a single shade of blue to be found, getting enough of that at work over the years.

She had plants everywhere, an old record player and a million different albums spread across the living room. Her bedroom was a mess, the closet was even worse. The kitchen would be easy to pack, it was the stuff on the walls she was worried about.

“I’m probably not getting my deposit back,” she laughed as she started taking the paintings down.

“I didn’t know you went to Harvard?” He points at her medical degree on the wall as she takes it down.

“Yeah, let me guess you’re a Yale guy?” She teased him.

He scoffed, nudging her arm lightly. “CalTech and MIT actually, Yale was my safety school.”

“Mine too,” she smiled.

Spencer stood beside her and watched for a minute, “what should I do?”

“Pick an area and pack the way you would if this was your place, I trust you won't break anything.”

“Okay,” he nodded, beginning stacking all her books on the kitchen table.

They worked well together, they knew that already. She put on music, they moved around each other freely. Occasionally singing the words and dancing around to the good ones. It was a lovely day to just open the windows and clean.

Hours passed, pizzas had been ordered and destroyed, boxes filled every corner of the space as her personality was completely ripped from the room. Soon it was just them, a couch and the record player.

She got up and walked into the bedroom to change, feeling sticky and gross from the day. Not expecting Spencer to follow and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Who knew packing boxes for 7 hours would make you so sweaty,” she jokes as she peels the shirt off her back. Standing in front of him in just her sports bra.

He turns away from her, making her laugh slightly. “Spencer, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He asks as he turns back to look at her.

She nods softly, “do you want to shower with me?”

He’s speechless for a moment, staring at her with an open mouth, “yeah, yes sure.”

She can't help herself from laughing, taking his hand and pulling him into her tiny bathroom. She makes sure they both have a few towels, seeing him awkwardly stand by the door like he’s not allowed to move.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she reminded him. “Go as slow as you want.”

“I want to join you, but just to clean,” he made his decision.

“Alright, I have 3 different shampoos you can choose from,” she smiled, opening her cupboard and letting him pick. He smiled, appreciating how easily she made it a strictly business situation.

She took off her pants, watching him get undressed out of the corner of her eye. They had been much more intimate with each other already, getting naked in front of him shouldn’t have been as nerve-racking as it was.

She turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature with her foot. She took a deep breath and just took the sports bra off, freeing her boobs after a long day felt amazing, replacing the fear of Spencer seeing her for the first time. She dropped her underwear to the floor and stepped into the shower, waiting for him to do the same.

Before she knew it, he was standing in front of her, naked. She didn’t know how to act, just laughing and smiling at him. He did the same, it felt kinda crazy that they were standing in a shower, butt naked as the water pooled at their feet.

“You have to pull the thingy up,” she pointed at the bottom of the shower behind him. “It might be cold when it hits you, here pull it up and hide in the corner, like I do.”

He followed her instructions, pulling the small silver plug up to redirect the water from the tub faucet to the shower head. Cowering into the corner with her, their chests pressed together as the cold water hit his back, making him gasp as she laughed.

She wrapped her arms around him, leaning against the shower wall as she held him against her, “hi,” she whispered through her smile.

He kissed her quickly before backing up under the stream. She watched the water cover his hair, making it darker as it spread through the long locks. She watched it drip down his body softly, her eyes travelling down as it did.

He had a scar on his neck and all the bruising on his chest was long gone. His skin was so pretty, he only had a small amount of chest hair, but it was the collection of freckles all over capturing her gaze the most. She reached out and rested her hand on his chest, seeing his eyes open as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sorry,” she pulled her hand back.

“It’s okay,” he laughed slightly. “Here,” he reached behind her for the bar of soap, “if you want to touch me while I wash my hair?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. Reaching for the loofa on the tap behind him, standing directly in his space as she did so.

They switched sides, slowly turning so he would be out of the spray of the shower head. He put shampoo in his hands and rubbed it through his hair while she watched quietly for a moment.

She rubbed the bar of soap against the fabric of the loofa, watching it foam up and fill the small space with a soft cucumber scent. Running it over his chest softly as he massaged his scalp. She was so soft with him, mesmerized by how lucky she was.

He was beautiful and soft. He wasn’t big and buff like Derek, he was just a normal man with a love for chocolate donuts and jello. She ran the loofa over his tummy as she smiled, loving everything about him.

Loving every part actually while trying to avoid both eye and physical contact with specific sections of him. Not knowing if he was okay, wanting to respect his space, and appreciating that he was doing the same with her.

He laughed when she ran it along his side, ticking his armpit as he tried to wash his hair, soap dripping down onto his eyebrow. She reached up and wiped it off his face so it wouldn’t go in his eye.

“Thanks,” he smiled.

“Switch?” She said as she guided him back under the water, his eyes still closed from the fear of getting soap in them. Scrunching his face up in the cutest way.

The water cascaded over his body, washing the soap down him as she watched, her hair not even close to being wet enough to wash yet. She just wanted to watch the show, to look at all of him and appreciate the moment.

He opened his eyes once all the soap was gone, his hair longer than ever as it laid flat behind his ears, he looked so funny without a big curly mop of hair on his head, remembering he said it used to be like this at one point.

“Your turn?” He offered, taking the loofa from her and reapplying the soap to it. “Can I?”

“Of course,” she answered as he slowly ran the material over her.

He was so gentle, she watched his face as he washed over her. Biting his bottom lip in concentration as he covered her chest, arms and stomach, “um,” he tried to speak, she knew what he wanted.

She took the loofa from him and replaced it with a bar of soap, “rub it in your hands for a sec, and then use them it’s easier.”

He did just that, lathering up his hands before he placed them directly on her breasts. She let out a sigh, bordering on a moan, as he held them in his hands, massaging the soap in carefully. Thumbs rubbing over her nipples as he made sure to not miss a spot.

She was in heaven, tossing her head back against the shower wall as he ran his hands over her more. Exploring her as she leaned against the wall.

Down her stomach, past her belly button, washing her hips before dropping to his knees. Using the bar of soap once more to wash over her legs as she stared at him, amazed by the bravery he was showing.

The water getting in his eyes down there, he stood and pushed his hair back out of his face as the water dropped to the floor, “turn around?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” she replied, turning to face the wall.

He ran his soapy hands all over her back, over her shoulders and arms. Paying special attention to her butt, which made her laugh, she was only a little ticklish there.

She was covered head to toe in bubbles, Spencer looked at her with a big grin on his face as he noticed his job was done. Helping her under the water to wash all the soap off.

She lifted her arms to run the water through her hair, feeling her boobs perk up as she did so. Spencer's attention being completely switched to her chest as he watched. “Pass me the gold shampoo bottle?”

“Y-yeah,” he said, grabbing it from behind himself and handing it back to her.

She stepped into his space, pouring the soap into her hand and rubbing it in. “They say if you lather it up it’ll apply easier,” she explained her little life hack as she rubbed her hands together.

Finally running her hands back through her hair in Spencer’s personal bubble. Her boobs pressing against his chest once again. He was breathing heavier as she watched him, hoping soap didn’t make its way into her eye and ruin the moment.

When she finally stepped back to wash the soap out of her hair, Spencer followed, pressing them together once more. Holding her by the waist as she continued to get the soap out.

Once the water ran clean, she rested her hands on Spencer's shoulders. Staring at him as the water ran down her back, his eyelashes covered in water droplets as he stared into her eyes.

He was beautiful like this, just himself.

“Are we ever going to be like a real couple?” He asked softly.

“What do you mean?”

He ran his wet hands over his back as he thought about it for a moment, “I would like to be with you, more than this, but-”

“You mean sex?” She smiled softly, trying her best to not tease him. It was a serious moment, but she loved him too much to see him struggle.

“Yeah, I just don’t know how I’ll react,” he admitted.

“Honey,” she cooed, rubbing her nose against his softly. “Sex doesn’t make us a real couple, first of all. And second, we have all the time in the world, so you take it as slow as you want. We can start little by little, I don’t mind waiting.”

“How do you mean?”

She smirked at him, “have you ever masturbated in the same room as someone else?”

He swallowed sharply, shaking his head softly, “no, have you?”

“No,” she whispered. “But it’s a small step. You can sit beside me, we touch ourselves, nothing overlaps unless you want it to. Ease into it. It would be another easy way to be comfortable with your body around me.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

She reached behind herself to turn the water off, tapping the silver plug with her foot to release the pressure, and stepping out of the shower finally.

—

They dried off, getting into their pj’s before laying on the couch in her empty living room. Listening to the Hozier album that was already sitting on the player and cuddling while their hair dried. Just enjoying each other's company, he was so soft and he smelled amazing, it was so nice to have him in her space.

“Did you still want to?” Spencer cut into the moment.

It made her smile against him, lifting her head off his chest as she went to stand up. “Come on,” she took his hand, helping him to his feet.

She pulled him in close, kissing his lips softly. Only planning to kiss him once, being drawn into his mouth as his hands wrapped around her back.

She held him in return, slowly making her way into the bedroom as they stayed connected, laughing as her back smacked the door frame and then at the way he fell into her bed with her on top.

Her music softly travelled in from the living area, they kept the lights off as they stripped out of their pants and got under the covers.

“How did you want to start?” She asked, turning to face him as she laid against the pillow.

“Can we just kiss for a while?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning in.

She was laying slightly on top of him, holding his face in her hands as she kissed him. His tongue was soft, swirling with hers as they made out softly. He was very handsy, wanting to touch every single part of her once again like he didn’t get enough in the shower.

She spread her leg between his, sitting on his thigh as she rubbed against him. He bit her lip, squeezing her skin at the feeling. “I think I can do it,” he said softly.

“No,” she whispered, kissing his neck before getting off him. “I don’t want to hear I think. It’s a yes or it’s a no.”

“Okay,” he managed to bring reason back into his horny brain.

He took his shirt off, only in boxers beside her, tenting in them slightly. She took off her shirt as well, laying back against the pillow. He watched her breasts the whole time, licking his lips as he leaned on his side.

She ran a hand over her side, cupping her breast and tossing her head into the pillow more. “I’m starting without you,” she teased, her other hand slipping under the band of her underwear.

He laid on his back, bending his knees as he slipped his boxers off, she looked over at him with careful eyes. Genuinely curious about how beautiful he would look rock hard and begging for it.

She didn’t move her hand, just resting it under her underwear to entice him to start. She watched as he stroked himself softly, returning his attention to her smiling face.

She pushed her shirt and underwear off as well, scooting in closer to him so she was pressed against his side. Bending one knee so she could ghost her fingers over the folds as he watched her.

“I want to touch you,” he rushed the words out.

“Okay.”

He reached his left hand over, resting it on her hip before resting his hand on top of hers. She slipped it out from under his grasp, guiding his fingers to her clit as she stretched her legs further apart.

“Yeah, like that,” she encouraged him.

“W-would you?”

“Finish the sentence,” she instructed him. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Stroke me, I want it. Yes.”

She wrapped her fist around him, feeling his fingers swoop down to see how wet she was. “Oh,�� she jerked her hips against his side, not expecting him to loop the wetness back up and rub her clit again.

He groaned as she stroked him faster, both of them staring at their own handiwork. She was fascinated with how big he was, being able to stroke up and down him so gracefully it was like she was always meant to. She licked her lips as she saw the pearl of precum drip out. Gathering it up with her thumb as she slid back down his length.

He was panting, trying to hold himself back as she kept jerking him off. Lightly touching her clit as all his attention focused on not cuming so soon.

“It’s okay honey,” she whispered in his ear.

Straddling his thigh then. His hand resting on her clit still as she ground down on him. “Is this okay?” She asked.

He nodded, “yes,” biting his lip so he didn’t explode right then and there.

He felt amazing on her, every time her hips ground down her clit rested right between his fingers perfectly to gain the perfect amount of friction back and forth.

She let herself go, bucking her hips and moaning as she stroked him with one hand. Resting the other behind her neck so he could look at her boobs perk up again, sending him so close to the edge he almost jumped out of his skin.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “C-an I?”

“Cum baby,” she gasped. Following her own instruction as she watched the cum burst from him, shooting up over her fist as she stroked him through it. Grinding against him as she whimpered, “fuck, I love you,” leaving her mouth.

Letting go of his dick as he started to whine, she dropped down against him with her face nestled into his neck.

She kissed him, over and over again. Peppering them against his skin for the best orgasm she has ever had.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his skin as he came down from the high. His chest heaving as he tried to calm down, only picking up again when she heard the sob.

“Shhh,” she whispered against his skin, letting him hold her tighter against him as he cried. “I love you, honey, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”

She felt the tears welling in her own eyes, overwhelmed with her feelings for him. “I love you so much Spencer,” she cried against his skin, the tears dripping down his neck slowly.

His hands ran over her back, they held each other while they cried.

Everything from the last week finally catching up with them both. They hadn’t taken a moment to talk about any of it, the fact he was even in prison or what happened after. They just moved on, pretending it was fine now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally.

“Me too,” he pressed his hand onto her cheek, freeing her from his neck as she sat up a little.

Both of them still gross from the sex, pressing sweaty foreheads together as they took a moment. “I’m so sorry,” she emphasized, “are you okay?”

“I’m wonderful,” he laughed at the absurdity. “I’m crying because I love you so much.”

“Really?” She laughed too.

He nodded softly. Kissing her nose as she pulled back to look at him better. “I want to touch you but,” she laughed at the mess on her hand and where she rested it on his chest. “Can we pause for one sec?” She couldn’t stop smiling.

The two of them continuing to laugh at the situation as they cleaned up in the bathroom, laughing even harder as she sat to pee like they had been married for a million years already, laughing the hardest when it came out in dribbles from all the laughing.

Going through every emotion in the book as they coped with the insanity together.

Once they were clean they crawled back into bed. Resuming almost the same position as she sat down on his lap, holding his face in her hands like she wanted to. Rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks as he pulled her in closer by her hips.

“Tell me what you’re feeling?” She whispered.

“I’m happy, you saved my life and I can’t believe I get to do this with you,” he explained softly, moving his hands on her back. He talked with his hands, not able to say anything without them moving.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known, Spencer,” she reassured him.

“Why?” He asked softly. “not in a pity party sense, I just want to know how you feel. You haven’t really told me, I’ve been waiting for you to open up, I thought maybe you were just like that because it was your job, but I want to know you more.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she bumped their noses together. “I don’t normally talk to people, even with Derek I’m really closed off. But I do trust you, and I want to, I just wanted to experience you when you’re free. I wanted to see if this overwhelming ache in my heart would dissipate as I was allowed to love you.”

She didn’t want to cry again. Blinking so the tears rolled back behind her eyes, licking her lips as her head tilted slightly. She just stared at his honey eyes, glossy and blown out. So absolutely beautiful.

“It got worse,” she laughed slightly. “I realized that now that you’re free you don’t have to see me every day, luckily you want to. But, now I think about losing you instead of keeping you safe.”

“Never,” he shook his head, face still cupped in her hands. “I’m never leaving you, you’re going to need a restraining order if you want to break up.”

She laughed, pushing the tears out, finally. Spencer kissed her cheeks, wiping the tears away with his lips. “Okay,” her voice broke as she tried not to cry anymore.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered. “You’re brave and kind, incredibly smart. You’re willing to do whatever it takes for the ones you love, you’re the only person I want to talk to every day.”

“I was going to say that about you,” she pressed their lips together finally, pushing him back against the headboard.

She laid her head on his shoulder, cuddling into him as she sat in his lap, “I have never loved anyone like this.”

“Me either,” he admitted as he pressed his cheek to her head. “Not even with Maeve, or Derek I know he told you.”

“And your mom,” she smiled. “She actually welcomed me to the family, said she always wanted a daughter. It’s nice to have a mom again.”

That broke him, he finally dropped the tuff boyfriend act he was putting up to hear her feelings, crying at his mother and the love of his life being close. She could tell he was a mamma’s boy, they had a bond Y/N wished she could have with someone. The closest she had to a Diana was Derek, as funny as that was.

She let him cry, not prying into it at all. Letting him take control of his emotions and the conversation. She ran her hands up and down his arm, soothing him softly as he held on to her.

“I was so scared,” is all Spencer says.

“I can imagine.”

“No, I mean about my mom,” he corrects her softly. “I thought the second she got her diagnosis that I ruined everything for her. She was going to forget me before I could even find a person to marry, let alone give her grandkids.

‘She was going to forget me,’ echoed in her mind as she wrapped her head around what he was saying. He was more terrified of losing his mother and missing time with her than he was about being in prison. He really put every ounce of his love into his family, it was beautiful.

“I applied to work at the sanatarium,” is how she answers. “They needed a GP and I need a job. This way I can see her every day, and you can go to work or teach or do whatever and know she’ll be okay. And old people seem nicer than cops and criminals.”

“I love you.”

She laughs, kissing his neck softly. “She’ll be okay, we’ll get her taken care of and who knows, maybe we’ll have more answers before a grandkid rolls around.”

It’s a risk, joking about having kids with him already. But she was ready for a life sentence with him, willing to stay in that god-awful prison as long as he was there. Including if he lost his case.

“You’re too good to me.”

“I try,” she smiled. “You’re pretty fantastic yourself, I didn’t just fall in love with your pretty face, sure you’re helpful and do what I say. But I love you because of what’s in here,” she ran her hand over his chest.

He just held her, silence encapsulating the room finally. The record stopped playing in the living room, no one was on the street at this time of night, the world stopped as she laid in his arms.

The Sunday morning sun was going to start coming up as she stayed up in his lap, both of them settling more against the pillow. She had no plans to get off him, he had no plans to separate from her loving embrace.

a/n: still working on an epilogue idk when it'll be done

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buckysbabygorl · 3 years

Text

Writer’s Block

Summary: Friends help each other out, that’s just how it is. Steve doesn’t bat an eye at his and Y/N’s behaviour, but insights from Sharon make Steve rethink things between them.

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, dumbasses Bucky and Sam, an extremely chaotic turn of events

“Steve!”

Sharon nearly spilled her beer as she jumped at the voice, surprised to hear it so loudly after Y/N had been holed up in her room for days.

Steve turned nonchalantly at this voice; used to the chaotic out bursts. “Yeah?”

The young woman trotted in, dishevelled and tired but manic looking.

“I need your shirt, I’m on to something here--”

Steve stood without hesitation; as if he’d done this thousands of times before. And he had.

“On it,” he said, pulling the garment off with one hand and tossing it in her direction.

She caught it with ease, not even taking in his shirtless state as if she’d seen it a thousand times before. And she had.

Sharon however had never seen this interaction before, and stared in awe at the two’s casual exchange.

As Y/N rushed out of the lounge and back to her room, Sharon couldn’t help but gawk.

“What the hell was that?” She asked, amused.

“What?” Steve asked, now shirtless on the couch, “Oh--she’s writing.”

He sipped his beer after his statement, and Sharon was surprised at how he expected that to answer her question.

“I’m sorry?” She said confused.

He leaned further back into the couch, getting comfy. “She’s writing--she needs my shirt when she writes.”

Sharon laughed; “Why’s that?”

Finishing off the last of his bottle, he set it down on the floor as he spoke; “She says it helps her write when she gets stuck--it’s a weird process but…” he shrugged as he grabbed a new bottle.

“How romantic.” Sharon teased, sipping her own beer.

He smiled awkwardly; flustered at where the conversation was going, “Come on--” “What? We’re friends, we can talk about this stuff.” She said.

He gave her a look, “Can we?”

She shook her head at his prudence, taking another swig.

“Yes,” she said, “It’s not like we were married. We kissed like--twice, plus you’re not exactly my type anymore…”

Steve chuckled, “Oh right--how is Maria, by the way?”

“Don’t change the subject,” she said, pointing a finger in his direction, “I want to hear more about this process.”

“It’s no big deal, it’s just…” He thought, choosing his words carefully to not give Sharon any more material to tease him with, “Helping out a friend.”

“Bullshit.” She said. He cracked open the bottle with his hand, avoiding response.

It was a touchy subject around the compound; his and Y/N’s very… intimate relationship. They were friends, coworkers they’d say. At least on the surface. But it couldn’t be missed how quickly he fell in line for her; and how her first instinct with anything and everything was to go to Rogers. They refused to go on missions without the other; they were touchy, they were jokey, if you found one the other was always in close proximity. Hell, the team was surprised they weren't sharing a room yet. But apparently, for some unknown reason, they told everyone and themselves they were just friends.

Sharon looked at him, deadpan. “Steve.”

He looked back to her in playful annoyance. “What?”

She slapped her thigh with her free hand, finishing off her drink. “Come on, let’s get into this.”

He sighed, “I don’t know what to tell you--she doesn’t see me that way.”

She jumped on his choice of words immediately, “She doesn’t?”

The implication being, of course, that she didn’t but he did.

Flustered, he waved a hand at her. “No, no, no--that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s not not what you meant.” She countered, “You like her.”

“Shut up,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

“That’s not a no.” She hummed as she thought of another point; “And what’s she need your shirt for anyway? That’s cute as hell.”

He sighed again, “Well--it helps her… get in the mindset.”

“Pardon?” she asked at his cryptic explanation. “‘Mindset’?”

He didn’t want to admit the reason, running a hand over his face, flustered.

He bit his thumb, his voice coming out muffled as he spoke. “Well, she writes about… characters… in romantic settings, so--”

He spoke, drawing out his words, “She needs inspiration, for those kinds of scenes.”

“Dude, EW!” She said, way too much information coming her way for being this sober, “I don’t wanna hear that.”

“NO,” he defended, “Not in a weird way. But like--if the guy gives the girl his shirt, or he picks her up or something, I dunno, but like--she’s very sensory. So the shirt helps with getting into the moment. She can put herself in the character’s shoes, if that makes sense.”

Sharon’s eyes went wide as she cracked open a bottle for herself, “Well I don’t know how you’re not using that to your advantage.”

Steve did a double take, “Elaborate.”

She laughed through her nose, “Well, if I were in your place--”

“--Hey.” He warned.

She raised her hands in defense, “I’m just saying, you could be giving her a hell of a lot more inspiration than your shirt and your cologne.”

“You think she likes my cologne?” He asked.

“Steve, you’re a grown man. In fact you’re an old man, figure it out for yourself.”

They sat in silence as Sharon waited for Steve to ponder this.

He jolted upright as if having an epiphany; “you don’t think--”

“--really? Are you fucking kidding me?”

She laughed at his blushing cheeks, he ran a hand through his hair cursing under his breath.

“So what now?”

“Oh my god--” Sharon said through gritted teeth, “Go give her inspiration. I swear you’d never get laid if I wasn’t around.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Steve joked.

“Hey,” She said, kicking his shin lightly.

He laughed, “Hey, we’re friends, we can talk about this.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Are you gonna go in there or what?”

“Like--now?”

“Yes! You dumbass, go get your girl. I can wait, I can handle myself.” She sipped her beer as if giving an example, and patiently waited for Steve to go.

Hesitantly, Steve rose from his spot, wiping his hands along his jeans nervously. He was stalling, evidently so. Was he really gonna do this? He didn’t know what was lying on the other side of that door, metaphorically speaking. He knew she was likely frantically typing away, thinking out loud, and egging herself on. How could he even begin to approach that? The man didn’t have any moves; hell, the last time he’d kissed a girl was Sharon, and that was ages ago.

He was frozen in place; glancing back and forth between the hallway and the woman in front of him. What the fuck was he gonna do?

“What are you doing? Warming up? Just go.” Sharon complained.

Steve sighed, throwing his head back in annoyance, “Fine,” he exclaimed, “But if this goes south, it’s your fault.”

“Fine, fine, whatever, I take the blame. Just do something already.”

Fed up with her pestering, Steve forced himself to leave the room.

Okay Rogers, you got this.

As he hunkered down the hall, moving quickly before he could change his mind, Rogers continued to silently hype himself up.

You--you’re captain america. You. Are. America’s. Ass. You’re already shirtless, and that’s half the battle won.

But as he found himself in front of Y/N’s door; all his false surety had disappeared.

Steve groaned to himself, “Oh my god, what am I doing?”

“What are you doing?”

The voice of his friend made Steve jump, as he realized he wasn’t alone.

Bucky and Sam approached him from the other end of the hall.

“Steve, where’s your shirt?” Bucky asked, equally as confused as Sam. They then realized who’s door he was in front of, and immediately lit up.

“Whoa, are you coming or going Rogers?” Sam asked, assuming illicit activities were taking place.

Steve pursed his lip, looking back to the door in front of him. “Coming, at least trying to.”

“Seriously? You’re actually making a move? I never thought I’d see the day--” Bucky said.

“--Proud of you buddy, we didn’t think you’d ever go for it.” Sam added.

“Wh--” Steve stuttered, looking between the two, in both shock and embarrassment. “Does everyone know how I feel?”

“About Y/N? Uh--yeah.” Sam said.

“Come on Steve, you’re not exactly the most subtle when it comes to feelings.” Bucky explained, “You’re always together..”

Sam added on, “...whenever you’re not, you’re depressed…”

Bucky nodded, “You remember her birthday, she remembers yours--”

“--Wait, do you guys not know my birthday?” Steve asked.

The two friends shared a look, squinting as they pondered how to break the news that; no, they didn’t.

“July?” Sam asked.

“I know you’re a Leo,” Bucky said, as if that would suffice for an answer.

“Oh my god,” Steve said, “It’s July first.”

“We’re getting off track,” Sam said, “What exactly is your game plan here?”

Steve put his hands on his hips, shifting his weight to face away from her room, “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Well lucky for you,” Bucky stated, confidence in his tone, “We’re here to help.”

Steve looked at him, disbelieving, but also slightly intrigued. “Oh yeah?” He asked, half jokingly. At this point, he’d take all the help he could get.

“Yeah,” Sam spoke, nearly offended that Rogers could ever doubt the Wilson charm. And whatever the hell Bucky thought he had going for him.

“Just go in there and be cool, flex a little, maybe be a little dismissive.” Sam said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky agreed, eagerly, “And like--act like she wanted you there.”

Sam snapped his fingers, “Exactly, make her come to you.”

Bucky and Sam stood, satisfied with themselves, as Steve stared slack jawed at the men in his presence.

“You guys are idiots, how have you ever gotten laid?” He asked.

Immediately the two jumped to their defense. As the three soldiers’ argument increased in both intensity and volume, they didn’t realize they’d attracted the attention of the woman on the other side of the door.

Y/N huffed as the sound penetrated her walls, snapping her laptop shut as she rose and charged to her door. Whipping it open, she startled the men in front of her.

Bucky screamed and nearly knocked Sam over, while Steve stared at her like a deer in headlights.

“Will you guys shut up, I’m trying to--” Her face lit up with a sudden epiphany, “Steve! Get in here.”

Before any of them could react, or argue, the young woman had grabbed Steve’s arm, and with surprising strength, pulled him into her room. The door slammed shut in Bucky and Sam’s faces, leaving them as dumbfounded as ever. They scrambled to press their ears against the door, not wanting to miss a second of whatever was going to happen next.

“Thank god you’re here, I need your help--”

Steve stood panicked in her doorway, unsure of what to do. She started pacing around the room, dramatically gesturing to further elaborate whatever point she was trying to make; which was completely lost on Steve. This was classic Y/N behavior; off on her own tangent and assuming Steve was with her every step of the way. Usually, he was, but this time he was too caught up in the ideas that Sharon, Bucky and Sam had put in his head.

Fuck, what did they say to do? Uh--flex. Damn it, what do I do with my body? What do I do with my hands?

Steve tried to control his expression; aiming for stoicism, cool, as Wilson described it. With his awkward smoulder, Steve moved to lean against the wall in a flattering way. He flexed, or tried to, as he braced himself in the most horrible attempt at casual standing.

He looked around the room; trying to be nonchalant while Y/N continued.

“So,” She said, “What do you think?”

“Uh--yeah, sure. Cool, whatever.” He said.

Dismissive, got it.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she took in his stance, gesturing a hand to the wall he was placed against.

“Uh… what are you doing?” She asked.

Immediately embarrassed at whatever the hell that was, Steve stood upright.

“Nothing, nevermind,” He said in an attempt to brush off his previous actions, “What were you saying?”

She groaned, “Just get over here.”

She manhandled him, pulling him to the centre of the room, closely in front of her.

“Okay,” she said, “Try it.”

“Try what?” He asked.

“Try to kiss me!” She said.

He pushed her hands off his arms, “What?!”

She laughed stupidly, “You don’t have to actually do it. I just need to get a feel for the motion of it.”

She went to take a step forward, her arms getting ready to wrap around his shoulders. Steve took a step back and raised his hands in fear.

“What motion? What are you talking about?” Steve sputtered.

“Oh my god, were you even listening?” She teased, reaching for his forearms to pull him back. God was she strong. Or was Steve just oddly willing?

“Chris is about to kiss Hailey, or try to anyway. Sebastian and Anthony just talked to him and he’s finally gonna do it. Your shirt was working for awhile but now I’m getting stuck again. So--try to put yourself in that position. You just realized you’re in love with your best friend and you’re really gonna go for it. Act it out if it helps.”

Steve felt like he was going to throw up, lord help me.

“Y/N, I don’t think this is a good idea--”

“Come on,” she ushered, “It’s just me.”

“Exactly.” He said.

She shook her head at his ridiculousness, not aware of the real sentiment behind his words.

“Please? Do it for me.” She begged.

He looked down to the hands wrapped around his forearms; this felt like cheating. It wasn’t supposed to go like this; using the incredibly odd and specific scenario she’d laid out for him. It was hitting too close to home; how could he use this as a scapegoat to get what he wanted? Confessing his feelings and holding her in a way he’d wanted to for so long… the guilt overcame him.

But as he looked back into her eyes, as she was pleading for him to do this for her, he knew he couldn’t say no.

“Alright--can you just, can you close your eyes? It’s freaking me out.” He said.

She nodded eagerly, closing her eyes at his request.

He sighed, I guess it’s now or never.

He slipped his arms from her grip, and gingerly took her hands in his. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, and resisted the urge to pull her closer. To press a kiss along every delicate finger in his grasp, to take her immediately how he wanted to. He inhaled, he exhaled, he had to pace himself.

“Okay,” He whispered, readying himself for what he was about to do.

“I want you, I’ve wanted you for so long that it’s driving me crazy. I--I don’t how to do this; how to do this right but I have to do this now because I know if I don’t I never will.”

He laughed at himself; the romantic honesty of it all.

“I’m crazy about you; I can’t get enough of you.”

He let his hands glide down to her wrists, bringing her to his chest and placing her hands on his shoulders. His hands fell to wrap around her waist, drifting his fingers along the shirt that he knew was his, revelling in the fact that she was in his clothing, and in some indescribable way, in his possession.

She was lost in the low timbre of his voice, completely consumed by his words. It sounded so real.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asked, breathlessly in her ear. “I could just…”

He allowed himself to trail off, lips ghosting just over hers, taking in all the beautiful features of her face that he’d admired countless times before.

This was it; this was the moment he’d been praying for.

She broke into a smile, opening her eyes and playfully squealing.

“That was perfect!” She said, not moving from her position. “That was so good, how’d you think--”

He didn’t let her finish.

Words couldn’t describe how good her lips felt on his; how intoxicating the feeling of her bare skin was in the palms of his hands.

He clutched her tightly as he kissed her; gripping the soft flesh of her waist in a desperate hold to keep this moment as long as possible. Indulging himself in her taste, her touch.

His tongue trailed gently along her bottom lip before gently taking it between his teeth.

She gasped softly as he deepened the kiss, her hands instinctively wrapping in his blond locks.

As she tugged at his hair, eliciting a groan from Steve, he shifted his hands down to her hips and pulled her taught against him.

Her hand moved to cup his chin, lightly scraping the stubble with her finger tips. She moaned as the action made Steve’s fingers dig into the skin of her back. She arched her chest at the feeling of the possessive hold.

Why the hell hadn’t they been doing this the whole time?

She pulled back from his kiss, trying to catch her breath. Steve couldn’t read the look in her eyes; a mix of shock and confusion, and another emotion he wasn’t sure he’d seen before.

She tried to clear her mind as her hands shifted to rest on his chest; she felt his heartbeat pounding with the rise and fall of his own breath.

“Get on the bed.” She demanded.

Steve’s eyes widened at the command, stupidly ogling her as her hands moved to remove her--his shirt.

“What about your story?” He asked her.

She chuckled lightly at his naivety, reaching out to grip his biceps and pull him towards her.

In one quick motion, she pulled them on to her mattress. Steve reached out his hands to brace his fall, hovering above her.

With a lustful glint in her eye, she smiled.

“Fuck the story. We’ve got better things to do.”

“Sam we have to go,” Bucky said, “They’re gonna start fucking and I don’t wanna be around for that.”

Tags: @babyblue-07 @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @lonewolf471 @babybluereads @marianas-studyblr @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms

#marvel #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader

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yourmcu · 4 years

Text

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory, “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song."

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention.

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard."

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night."

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked.

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking."

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band."

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right."

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid.

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!"

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!"

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation.

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover.

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?"

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me."

"What does it look like?" You asked.

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one."

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told."

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it."

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned?

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back.

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner.

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table.

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this."

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care."

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-"

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor.

"It was a gift." He finished anyway.

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head.

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much."

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered.

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering."

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me."

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.”

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage.

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help?

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition.

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly.

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack.

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile.

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you.

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?"

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy."

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music.

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush.

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone."

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans."

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?"

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side.

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

#doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x you #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme #tw guns #tw abusive parent

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

niagara falls

TW: past thoughts of suicide, drinking, car accident (not involving reader), pining (lmk if i missed anything plz)

Summary - spencer explodes on reader after coming to a realization, and reader decides to take a much needed vacation - away from him.

WC - 5,305

masterlist

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"i don't understand why you're like this!" spencer shouted as he slung his satchel off his shoulder and onto the couch. "why do you even care?!"

"why do i care?!" you scoffed. "you seriously aren't asking me that, spencer," you rolled your eyes in disbelief. "because i care about you. that's why i care. i'm so sorry my caring about you is an inconvenience," you sarcastically apologized, throwing your hands up in frustration as he sat down on the couch with his head laying in his hands.

"you're just so overbearing sometimes, y/n. i can't handle it right now!" he yelled, finally pulling his head up to meet your gaze only to find your eyes welling up with tears. "are you seriously crying right now?" he chuckled as he rolled his eyes once again.

"spencer please... just tell me why you're so upset right now. i want to help you," you pleaded, trying to calm yourself down as you sat on his couch beside him, placing a hand gently on his knee.

"well maybe i don't want your help! i never asked you to help me!" he slung your hand off his knee as he rose to his feet once again.

"why won't you let me help you? i'm your friend, spence. i want to help you... please," you admitted as a year slipped down your cheek.

"i don't want your help! i don't want you here! i don't want to be near you! i wish you died when the unsub took you. i should've let him just finish the fucking job!" he yelled, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from you. "i mean it seemed like you wanted to die anyways because of your carelessness. your stupidity! so why don't you do just that?" he walked into his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water.

you stayed silent, unaware of what to do with what he just admitted. your best friend just said he wished you had died. he wished you had been killed.

you didn't know what to do, but you knew you didn't want to stay with him for one more second. you were done trying to help him through whatever was going on.

so you got up and left. you walked out of his door and slowly made your way to the car, still trying to process what just happened.

spencer looked up when he heard his door softly shut. he grabbed his water and walked into the living room, only to find you not there anymore.

then he finally processed what he had said, himself. he said he wished you had died. he told you he wanted you dead.

he went to his room, not bothering with anything else at that point, and laid down on his bed. spencer felt guilty about what he had said, but he was sure you wouldn't want to see him.

but you would've done anything to see him. you waited inside your car, outside of his building for nearly half an hour just hoping he'd come down.

you wanted him to apologize, or to say he didn't mean it, anything that would suggest he didn't mean what he had said.

but he didn't come down.

you even saw as his lights turned off in his apartment, signaling his sleep, before you decided to drive off.

which leads to you now.

you were at a bar after calling penelope and emily, jj wasn't able to make it because of will and the kids. you were still in your work clothes, but managed to clean up the makeup that had began to streak down your face.

when the two girls got there, you had already been through a couple drinks within the past twenty minutes waiting for them, in spite of your knowledge of you being a lightweight.

"y/n!" you heard penelope greet you accompanied by the tell tale sound of her heels clicking against the floor. "my pumpkin pie what happened?!" she said as she approached you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder as she took a seat beside you.

"are you alright, y/n?" emily asked as she approached the chair on the opposite side of you.

"i'm... yup," you giggled as you turned to face emily. "is that unsub still in custody? maybe he still wants to have his go with me," you asked before busting out in laughter.

"what? y/n why...?" emily questioned, looking past you and making eye contact with penelope, silently asking if she understood what you meant. "why would you say that?" she asked softly, taking her coat off in preparation for the rest of the night.

"welllll, pretty lady, apparently spencer should've just let him finish the job when he took me," you giggled, leaning in closer to emily. "at this point i think spencer might want to finish the job himself!" you whisper shouted, penelope still able to hear your comment as you busted out in laughter once again.

"what'd boy wonder say?" penelope asked, scooting her chair closer to yours and emily's in hopes of hearing you better.

"he said 'i wish you died when the unsub took you. i should've let him finish the fucking job!'" you said with a smile on your face, the giggles still popping out of your mouth every so often.

penny and emily shared a knowing look as they glanced at each other. emily raised her eyebrows in suspicion as penelope rubbed her lips together with furrowed brows.

"i think you guys forget," you hiccuped, "i'm a profiler, silly gooses. i knoowww that look you guys are giving each other," you slammed your hands down on the table. "he meant what he said. he wants me dead," you frowned, the giggling finally ceasing as you took in the harshness of the situation. "maybe i should be, you guys."

"no! no, no, no," penny insisted, placing a hand on your shoulder to turn you towards her. she took note of the tears in your eyes once again. "he doesn't want you dead, y/n. he lost it when he found out the unsub took you."

"garcia's right. he could barely think straight for longer than 15 seconds when you disappeared," emily confirmed. "he cares about you, don't forget that."

"you should've seen him tonight, em," you turned to face emily, taking another sip of your drink before penny took it from you despite your protests. "he told me he didn't want to be near me and that he didn't want my help," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes before they fell. "i just wanted him to be okay..."

"i know you did sweetie," penny consoled as she rubbed a hand on your back.

you leaned forward and rested your head on emily's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around you. penny continued to rub your back as sobs racked through your body. eventually, your sobs slowed and you were able to sit back up and wipe your tears.

he knew about your struggle with depression in the past. he knew that there was a point in your life when you didn't even want your life. he had to know the weight of his words as he said them.

and that hurt worse than the fact that he said them.

the fact that he knew how much they'd hurt you.

"i think i just need a break from him for a while," you sniffled as you used a napkin to wipe your tear stained cheeks.

you and spencer had spent practically every free night you had together. whether you went to his place or him yours, you spent whatever free time you had together.

you would watch those foreign films together, where he would whisper the translations in your ear. he would try to teach you to be better at chess. you would attempt to teach him to be a better cook. each of you loved spending time together.

so spencer saying that to you, knowing your backstory and your history, hurt more than you'd care to admit.

"are you sure?" emily asked concerned.

"he meant it, em. it was like he hated me. i don't... i don't want to see him again. at least not for a while," you frowned at the admission, picking at your nails in your lap.

"maybe that's for the best. a little break?" penelope agreed. "you still have a lot of vacation time, y'know," she suggested, nudging your shoulder slightly.

"yea. i think i might take a vacation for a month or two. visit my family, see some sights," you shrugged.

you and spencer had been looking through catalogues together at different sights you'd like to see together. those were the only places you'd thought about seeing, so you'd probably just visit them alone, try to make your own memories without him tainting them.

"that sounds fun, y/n. it's a good idea," she gently scratched your back.

"just uhm... don't tell spencer, please," you asked as you placed a twenty on the counter of the bar.

"whatever you want, sugar," penelope agreed, helping you stand to your feet. "we carpooled here, so i'll just drive you home, okay?" penelope suggested as you nodded in agreement.

"you can stay the night. you don't need to be out this late, pen," you practically demanded.

"yes ma'am," penny laughed at your care for others, even when you felt horrible.

you've always been the person that's there for everyone, even spencer.

when they each went through their own trouble or needed help you were there for them.

especially spencer.

and now after you had your own traumatic experience where you thought you would die yourself, spencer wasn't there for you. instead, he added to the hurt and pain.

penelope drove you home, you fell asleep on the way. she slept in your guest bedroom and helped you when you had to throw up in the middle of the night.

you had never been more grateful to not have worn the next day. you called hotch to let him know of your plans of vacation for a couple months, which he allowed.

he thought it was an excellent decision for you to take a vacation. you'd always worked hard on everything you did. paperwork or a case, you did your best. so he knew this break would really help you to relax.

so, you planned everything out. you got a plane ticket to see your family, and you would drive everywhere from there on out with a rental car.

you would see the statue of liberty, the empire state building, acadia national park, walters art gallery, the national aquarium, and so many other places you and spencer had looked through together.

part of you felt guilty for doing this without him, but you figured since he wanted you dead he could just go see the places by himself. he'd probably enjoy them even more without you, anyway.

you had decided to turn your phone off, not wanting to be bothered by the nuisance of social media, but you left your work phone on in case of an emergency. you had gotten a video camera in hopes of recording your journey.

you sent postcards at every location you went to. you even sent them pictures of you and your family together, smiles in every single one of them.

your mom and step dad were overjoyed to see you. they could tell there was something that pushed you for this vacation other than just needing a break from work, but they didn't push since they were just excited to see you.

you videoed them upon your arrival, them hugging you tightly and your dogs jumping on you.

the sights were absolutely stunning. you couldn't believe how amazing the views were. they were more incredible than you could imagine.

part of you couldn't stop thinking about spencer and how much you missed him. you had wanted to see these places together, but you figured he never wanted to see you again.

so at each spot, you made a separate video dedicated to spencer. you told him how part of you wished he was there to tell you his facts he had about the places. you told him how you wished he actually wanted to be there with you, but understood that he needed his own space.

as happy as you seemed in those pictures and at those sights, when you got back to your hotels you would break down.

you didn't understand how spencer could be so cruel to you after you trying to be the best friend you could be.

now you had one more week of vacation and you only had one more sight to see, the one you were the most excited about.

the day spencer blew up on you, he couldn't get over how rude his words had been. he decided to leave you be the next few days, letting you both cool off from the blowup that had ensued.

the day he had gone back to work, he got you your favorite muffin, coffee, and flowers. he placed them on your desk waited for you to walk through the doors so he could beg for your forgiveness.

but you didn't show up.

he went into hotch's office in hopes of finding answers, only to be told that you had requested time off.

he was riddled with guilt from the new information. you had practically fled because of his words.

he didn't talk to anyone the rest of the day. he just finished his paperwork quickly and went home.

when he saw the postcards you had sent emily, jj, derek, penelope, rossi, and hotch, he felt part of his heart break.

all of the places you went were the places he wanted to take you.

he wanted to tell you the fun facts about those places that he researched just to see your smile. he wanted to hold your hand as you looked out on new york as you stood in the empire state building. he wanted those experiences with you.

and there you were experiencing them without him. enjoying them like you had never discussed them with him yourself.

and you never even sent him a postcard.

during all of this, spencer had received the cold shoulder from practically everyone. they had stopped asking him out after cases, and didn't talk to him unless it had to do with the cases they were on.

"morgan! can you at least tell me why everyone's treating me like this?" spencer begged him to reveal the truth for what felt like the millionth time.

"reid. you're telling me you seriously don't know why everyone's mad at you?" he scoffed. "you're a profiler. figure it out," he demanded as he turned to walk back to his desk, unaware that the shaggy haired man had followed him.

"i've tried. please, just tell me," he asked, his eyes welling with tears.

"because of what you told her, reid," morgan sighed, finally looking at the man standing beside him. "you told her you wanted her dead. we all know her past struggles, and you still told her you wished she was dead. that was so beyond low, reid," morgan informed the man.

spencer stood there, taking in the information.

he didn't realize that nobody knew why he had said that. nobody knew why he pushed you away.

"sh-she really believes that?" spencer asked, watching morgan nod. "i don't want her dead. i need her. i've always needed her. i'll always need her," he shook his head in frustration, running his hand through his hair. "i-i said that because i realized how much i needed her. i realized how much i love her and it terrified me. i was just scared of those feelings, morgan. sh-she can't go. i can't lose her, derek," spencer cried, tears streaming down his face as he admitted his feelings for the first time out loud.

"well you sure have a funny way of showing it, reid," morgan rolled his eyes before sighing in compliance. "if you really love her, show her that. she's traveling alone right now, thinking you hate her and thinking that you don't want her in the world right now," morgan shook his head as he stood up to hand some files in to hotch.

"i know. b-but what should i do?" the boy genius wondered.

"go to her, dumbass. let her know how you feel and how much of a dumbass you are," morgan said as he walked off to hand his files in.

spencer ran to penelope's lair in hopes to track where you were.

"garcia!" spencer said upon entrance.

"reid. what do you want?" she asked in a monotoned voice.

"garcia, please just listen to me. you have to hear my side of the story, please," he begged. she turned around in her chair to face spencer, raising her eyebrows to entice him to finish the story. "i love her," he ripped the band-aid off. "i'm in love with her, and i only realized it when i thought i might lose her forever. and that feeling... it-it terrified me. so, i pushed her away. i couldn't... i couldn't go on knowing that she didn't feel the same, so i ruined our friendship."

"spencer..." penelope sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead in an attempt to not explode on the man in front of her. "she was absolutely devastated. she went to the bar that night and... she drank. you know that she never drinks, spencer. not since her dad was in that car accident. she was distraught because you knew her past. you knew and you still yelled that at her..." penelope looked at the tears in his eyes, realizing how much he truly felt for you. "but i guess i can help you. although i promised her i wouldn't tell you anything!" she chastised. spencer ran over and hugged her tightly.

"oh thank you so much, garcia! thank you!!" he exclaimed excitedly. "i'm gonna go tell hotch i need a week off to visit her!" he said before running out of garcia's office.

penelope had gotten the information he needed from tracking your work phone, and gave it to him. spencer was approved to leave abruptly by hotch, him being understanding of the direct of the situation.

truth be told, hotch had a suspicion reid was the reason you left. he had noticed the tension between the two of you after they got you back from the unsub, and just came to a conclusion after you asked for time off.

so of course he let spencer have time off. he hoped he would try to fix things between the two of you. hotch was a bit worried you might leave the into if things weren't resolved, so whatever would keep you with them would work.

spencer figured you'd choose to go to the place you were most excited about last. you always wanted that kind of flare, the buildup to the most beautiful sight you'd see. when penelope told him where you were after tracking your phone, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

he ordered the first ticket to upstate new york, and reserved a room at the hotel he found you had been staying at after garcia tracked your credit card purchases.

"morgan, i just finished packing," spencer said while on the phone with his friend, putting his suitcase into the back of a cab so he could get to the airport.

"good. don't forget to have flare, reid. women love that stuff," morgan chuckled.

"not y/n, morgan. she wouldn't want that attention," spencer practically scoffed at him while shutting the trunk, now stepping into the back of the cab.

"right, right. my bad," he raised his hands in defense in spite of spencer not being able to see him.

"aright, i've got to go now," spencer announced.

"let me know how it goes, alright?" morgan requested, still feeling a little eager at the entire situation going down.

"of course," spencer accepted. "bye."

spencer sighed as he gave the cab driver the address of the airport. he wasn't sure about him confessing his feelings for you, but that's the only way to show you how sorry he was, and how he didn't mean a word he had said to you.

he hated the past three weeks without you. without your gentle touch, melodious laughter piercing his ears at one of his crummy jokes. without the sight of your beautiful smile, or the way your voice sounded while mindlessly singing as you attempted to teach him how to cook.

he found himself watching videos he had of you and him together, scrolling through your pictures.

some were silly, goofy pictures you had taken of the two of you. some of the pictures were of you and him in formal wear at rossi's, him looking at you in your dress like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen... mostly because you are. some are of you asleep on his couch cuddled into his chest and gripping onto him in the midst of your dream, your smile signified that it was a good dream, at that.

he didn't know when he fell in love. all he knew was that he had fallen. hard. he didn't even care enough to figure out when the exact moment was, and he might as well have not tried.

he fell in love with you over time.

because over time you would reveal a little bit more of yourself to him that he found himself admiring. at first it was the way you secretly had a crush on james t. kirk. then it was that you snort when you truly laugh... something you were insecure about but he found even more adorable.

then it was about your dad.

it was about the car accident that ensued after a drunk driver slammed into him.

then he understood why you were so protective over the team when they went out together. you never drank, and always drove the girls and morgan home when they drank too much. you took the responsibility because you couldn't stand the thought of losing them like you had your own father years ago.

his death is what made you question everything, including your own existence. you didn't understand why he was gone, and left you behind.

on the anniversary of his death, you and spencer had gone to his grave to mourn him. he held you while you cried, and helped you eat the picnic you had brought with you.

so no, there wasn't a specific moment where he could pinpoint where he fell in love with you. this was merely because there's so much love he has for you that he's pretty sure he'll never stop falling in love.

once the plane landed in new york, he took a cab to the hotel you were both staying at and got everything ready. he remembered everything you were doing that day, and decided to surprise you at the one place he knew you were going to love the most.

niagara falls.

he got dressed in jeans and a white button up shirt. he put a brown sweater vest overtop the button up, and wore his black converse and satchel.

he had stopped by to get your favorite flowers. he got a mixture because he knows how you hate only being able to have one favorite - marigolds, daisies, asters, lilies, white tulips, and lilacs. you love the mixture of the colors together.

he planned to stop by your room and give you the flowers, begging for your forgiveness and admit his undying love for you. no problem.

then the time came.

his palms were sweaty, he could practically tell his voice would crack upon his admission to you. worst case scenario, you say you hate his guts and never want to see him, transfer out of the team, and he never sees you again. that's something he can't let happen.

best case scenario, you return his feelings and let him see this one last place with you as a truce. he gets to tell you the facts he learned just for this experience, and you live happily ever after.

he really hopes it's best case scenario.

meanwhile, you were looking through your suitcase. you had realized the last sweater you brought with you was spencer's, you just didn't realize it upon packing. you felt the tears pricking the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

you could throw the sweater away, and just wear one of your other shirts. or you could bask in his scent one last time before christening your life from him.

that decision had to wait, because there was a knock on your door.

you threw a robe over your shirtless body, and ran to open the door. your face fell upon seeing who was there. you were confused, shocked that you saw the man you thought hated your guts at your door, with flowers nonetheless.

"s-spencer?" you questioned, squinting your eyes as if he was someone else.

"h-hi, y/n," spencer swallowed. your eyes widened upon this revelation before you scoffed and swiftly slammed the door shut.

you ran to get the sweater on and over your head, but spencer had thought you were shutting him out. he thought you were turning him away before he even had a chance to express his feelings.

"please let me explain, y/n!" he exclaimed, banging on the door before you swiftly opened it again.

"yeesh, smartypants," you joked as you used to, a small smile playing on your lips. "i was just putting a shirt on," you said before moving out of the doorway, signaling him to come inside.

"i uhm... i got these for you," he handed you the flowers after you shut the door behind you.

"thank you," you pulled your lips into a tight lipped smile before sighing. "why are you here?" you bit your bottom lip softly, trying to refrain yourself from crying just at the sight of seeing him.

you sat down on the edge of the bed, patting beside you for him to sit down. you began twiddling your fingers in your lap, avoiding his gaze.

"i'm about to say something, and then i'll explain something," he said slowly, forgetting every single word he had practiced before coming into your room, seeing your face in person, viewing your smile, noticing you still wearing his sweater... giving him a glimmer of hope. "when you got caught by the unsub... i broke. i broke like i never have before, and i didn't know why," he sighed. "until i did," he reached his hand over to grab yours gently. "i'm in love with you."

your face shot up, finally looking him in the eyes, confusion displayed in yours.

"i've been falling in love with you for... who know how long. all i know is that i thought i had lost you, and crumpled without you. i can't do anything without you. i can't live without you. i need you," he said, tears filling his on eyes as you placed a hand on top of his.

"so w-why'd you tell me that..." you trailed off, your eyes gazing downward in fear.

"because," he used his free hand to grasp your chin softly, pulling it up to meet his eyes, "i was terrified," he moved his hand to cup your cheek. "i was scared about our friendship being ruined because i loved you, and because i was scared i pushed you away. i know that's no excuse, and nothing can excuse what i said to you. ever. but i'll spend every second of my life trying to make it up to you. please... just say you'll let me make it up to you," tears were now streaming steadily down his face.

"spencer," you took you hands out of his, leaving his hand on your knee, and wiped his face with both of them.

you leaned in slowly, looking him in the eyes to see if he understood what you were about to do. he met you somewhere in the middle, connecting your lips together in a frenzy of sentiment, longing, and passion. it was build up of every emotion the two of you have been harboring for as long as either of you could remember.

his hand on your face remained there, pulling you into him a little more. his other went slightly higher on your knee, now meeting your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze as your hands moved to the back of his neck.

when you opened your mouth for his tongue to enter, it met yours tentatively, slowly exploring every crevice, you doing the same. neither of you fought for dominance, allowing there to be certain kind of harmony to the moment the both of you have been dreaming of for so long.

you slowly pulled back, being sure to look in his eyes to see nothing but admiration and endearment in them.

"i love you too, spencer," you grinned softly. "but that doesn't mean i can just forget what you said..." you said before he wrapped you in his arms.

"i absolutely understand, of course," he sniffled. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. "don't leave, please," he begged as you embraced him by his neck, pulling his face down into the crevice in your neck.

"never again," you complied, feeling his smile against the skin on your neck, a slight chuckle leaving your lips at the sentiment. your hands found their way to his hair, running them though the locks gently. "wait!" you said as you jolted off of the bed to stand up. "how did you know where i was?"

"well..." spencer stood up and made his way back to you. "garcia helped a bit, and i realized that out of all of the places we talked about visiting, you haven't been to your favorite one yet. and because you're you, you saved the best for last," he finished as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him.

"penelope!!" you huffed, your arms locking behind his neck. "i swore her to secrecy an you broke her!" you exclaimed. "oh well, she lasted longer than i expected," you shrugged before leaning in to give spencer another kiss.

"yea, i had to confess my love for you to her first so she'd tell me," he whispered before leaning in with you slowly, you pulling back a bit at what he revealed.

"how many people know?" you questioned, playing with the hair on his neck and brows furrowed.

"well derek knows, garcia knows, i'm pretty sure hotch has a suspicion, so at this point most likely everyone on the team," he bent down to begin kissing your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"oh?" you asked as he mumbled a 'mmhmm' against your skin.

you're breathing slowed down as he began to suck on the soft spot on your neck, a warm feeling rushing straight to your core you tugged gently on his curls, a soft moan leaving the both of your lips.

"spencer..." you quietly called. "i have to be there in two and a half hours," you trailed off, your hand now running through the top of his hair, all the way down, feeling the softness of his locks between your fingers.

end of part 1 ;)

#spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid #angst #hurt/comfort #criminal minds #spencer

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404gendernotfound · 3 years

Text

Jealousy (Kaeya x Reader)

Summary: You decided to stop by the Angel’s Share before going home when you witnessed Kaeya drinking alone and looking depressed. You manage to convince him to stop drinking and let you take him home. As you take him to bed you see a new side of him you had never seen before. Maybe Kaeya being drunk wasn’t so bad after all.

Contains: fluff, jealous Kaeya, a little bit suggestive

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 4,1 K

Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

I was on my way back home when I was about to walk past the Angel’s Share. Since it wasn’t that late yet I decided to quickly say hi to Diluc before going home to get a decent amount of sleep before going on the next mission again tomorrow. As I walked through the door, I could already hear that the tavern was really lively already this early in the evening. Diluc spotted me from behind the counter and slightly smiled as he waved me over. I sat down and leaned on the counter.

“Looks like here’s a lot going on today”, I said and started to look around the tavern.

There were a lot of familiar faces from the adventurer’s guild and some lonely members of the Knight of Favonious. As my eyes spotted a certain someone I turned back to Diluc with a confused look on my face. Kaeya was sitting at the back of the tavern on a table all alone wearing not his uniform but just a white shirt, a corset belt and his usual navy pants. With this outfit of his usually all girl and guys would be all over him, chatting and flirting like there was no tomorrow but now he just looked sad and lonely from this point of view.

“Why is Kaeya drinking by himself?”, I asked him pointing over to the somehow sad looking boy with his glass of wine in his hand.

“I have no idea. Ever since he walked in here he looked like that. He didn’t want to tell me what was going on. He just kept ordering drink after drink”, he explained to me while a little bit of concern was coating his voice.

You usually wouldn’t notice if Diluc was feeling worried about someone but when it came to his brother, he couldn’t hide his feelings all the time. As soon as he was concerned about Kaeya there was something seriously wrong.

“Did something happen at work today?”, Diluc added and handed me a glass of water.

“Not that I can think of anything. We did our usual commissions, cleared out a hirlichurl camp outside the city and then returned to the headquarters. I can’t think of anything that would make him so upset to get himself this drunk by himself.”

“Maybe you should go over and talk to him. You’re his friend after all”, he suggested.

“Yeah. Maybe”

As I was about to stand up, I already noticed that Kaeya stood up from his table and started walking over to the bar. He sat down on the stool right next to me and gave Diluc his empty glass. As he leaned over the bar to grab one of the full bottles Diluc smacked his hand away.

“I think you’ve had enough”, he said before he placed a glass of water in front of him.

Kaeya groaned in frustration and looked to his right where he seemed to only have noticed my presence now.

“Why are you looking at me like that? What do you want?”, he asked, his voice sounding a little bit broken and tired.

“I want to know what’s wrong. You look awful right now”

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear from you”, he mumbled and took a sip of the water.

Diluc looked at me signaling that I shouldn’t give up this easily.

“I’m serious. Did something happen that upset you?”, I continued.

I just wanted to know if I did something wrong and he was upset because of me or if there was something else going on.

“It’s none of your business”, Kaeya said and looked at me with such a lonely expression it almost made my heart break.

“I thought we were friends. You can tell me everything and if I did something wrong then you have to tell me so I can fix it. I don’t want to see you look this sad and lonely”, I explained and watched as his expression softened a bit and he sighed.

“Do I look that bad?”, he asked and I just nodded.

“You should leave”, Kaeya added and looked at his glass of water to avoid looking at me.

“I’m only leaving if you promise me to stop drinking and go home”

“I promise”, he whispered almost barely loud enough for me to understand.

“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you”

He sighed and looked at me.

“I promise. I’ll go home. I don’t feel like drinking anymore anyways”, he said, this time loud enough for Diluc and I to hear.

He was about to stand up when he lost his balance and had to hold onto the bar to not fall over. He looked at me and without saying anything I already knew what I had to do.

“I’ll take you home. Don’t worry”

We both finished our water before I walked over to Kaeyas side and helped him stand. I put his arm around my shoulder and put mine around his waist to keep him steady right next to me. As we stumbled towards the entrance Diluc had to shake his head. I waved him goodbye before we left.

“Do you think you can walk on your own or do you want me to carry you?”, I asked him as we arrived outside breathing in the fresh night air.

“I can walk…I think”, he mumbled and we continued to walk towards Kaeyas apartment.

As I noticed that he was struggling to walk on his own I let go of his waist for a second to get in front of him and lift him onto my back. He complained about him being too heavy as he cautiously put his arms around my neck to keep himself on my back.

“Don’t worry about my back. I’m fine. You’re not that heavy and I don’t want you to collapse on the way.”, I explained and playfully squeezed one of his legs.

“You’re too kind”, he whispered and placed his head on my shoulder.

I had to smile. The next 10 minutes felt like they passed by in slow motion. The night breeze was refreshing and even though Kaeya started to get a little bit heavy on my back it still kind of felt nice to have him this close to me. Usually we weren’t this close. Working as a Knight of Favonious under his command wasn’t always easy since he would sometimes start to flirt with people mid battle even if our life depended on it. He became a good friend of mine and even if it did feel weird sometimes to have this casual relationship with the person that was technically my boss, I wouldn’t want to miss working alongside him. It seemed like he had fallen asleep on my back since it took some time for him to react after I had asked for his keys. He rummaged through his pockets until he finally found them. I took them and opened the door. After closing it behind us I looked around to see where his bedroom was. Even though I was working everyday with him I had never been to his apartment before. As I found his bedroom I walked in and let him down gently onto the bed. I turned towards him just to see how he was trying to take off his shoes almost falling over.

“Let me help you take them off”, I said while already getting on my knees and helping him with his high boots.

“You don’t have to help me. I can do it by myself”

“You can barely keep yourself on the bed right now. Just let me help you this once.”

He stayed silent after that and just watched me as I took off his shoes. He was about to lay down when I stopped him.

“Don’t you want to at least take off your belt? I bet it’s uncomfortable to sleep this restrained”, I asked and watched his cheeks turn a light pink as I stepped closer to him.

“No…I mean…maybe…I don’t know”, he mumbled sleepy.

“I’ll help you. Just stay still”

I leaned down and reached out to grab the strings that were keeping the corset belt together. I untied the knot and carefully loosened it before pulling the string out and removing it completely. I could almost see how much better Kaeya could breath right now. Just now I noticed that the shirt he was wearing was only buttoned at the bottom revealing half his chest. I had to look away since I noticed my cheeks heat up a little bit. I had to admit that Kaeya was a really attractive man and that I might have developed a little crush on him but I shouldn’t be thinking like this right now while he was this drunk. I put the corset onto one of his drawers and walked back to the bed.

“Can you help me with these too?”, Kaeya asked his cheeks a constant light pink as he fumbled with his pants trying to get them off in his drunken state.

“S-sure”, I slightly stuttered as I reached for his pants and helped him undo them.

“Can you lift your butt for me?”, I asked and he nodded.

He lifted himself up from the bed while I pulled his pants down. Kaeya sat back down and seemed to sober up a little bit while I carefully folded his pants and placed them right where his corset was now. As I turned back around he was still sitting on his bed, his shirt now pulled down so half of his thighs were covered and his fingers fiddling with the ends of it. It was different seeing him like this, looking all vulnerable and shy suddenly. If he would have been sober, he would have never let me do this to him or he would have made one inappropriate comment after the other. But he seemed to be too drunk to even think about making a flirty comment or maybe even form a proper thought. I walked back to the bed and softly pushed him onto it so he would lay down, but instead of letting me go after his back had gently hit the mattress, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto the bed with him, making me land right on top of him. I had to regain my composure as I tried to get off of him without touching anything that he didn’t want me to, but he stopped me just by reaching out and placing his hand on my cheek. I was startled about this sudden intimacy that I froze and just looked down at him. My eyes instantly scanned his appearance and I never regretted doing that more in my entire life than right now. His hair was a little disheveled but still looked beautiful as it was laying on his chest like a beautiful blue scarf. His shirt had opened even more now revealing not only his chest but also his entire left shoulder and the soft look on his face as he began to stroke my cheek so softly that it almost felt like a feathers touch made my heartbeat speed up and my thoughts run wild, making me almost incapable of thinking a single straight thought.

“Kaeya”, I whispered, my arms threatening to give up on me as I looked down at his beautiful face right under me.

“Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”, he asked almost sounding like he suddenly sobered up completely while he had that daydreaming look in his eye.

“I don’t know. Maybe in one of your flirtatious attempts”

“Then I’ll have to tell you right now. You are absolutely gorgeous”, he said, his hand still stroking my cheek as his other hand moved to grab one of mine and place it on his heart.

I almost gasped audibly as I felt his heart hammer against his chest maybe even faster than mine right now. I didn’t know what to answer after he complimented me like that. My natural reaction was just to turn beet red and wanting to hide for eternity. As he noticed my hesitation to answer he moved his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me down and closer to him. I could almost feel his breath on my skin and it was already driving me crazy.

“If I asked you to kiss me…would you?”, he whispered, his eye focused on my lips.

Did I just hear him right? He couldn’t have asked me that. It was probably just the alcohol speaking but somehow he looked as if he desperately needed to hear the answer to this question.

“I mean…I guess. Yeah”, I whispered back, mainly because I was fearing my voice to give up on me mid sentence.

A small and hopeful smile appeared on his face as he pulled me even closer.

“Kiss me”

His words were still ringing in my ears as I was fighting against my inner demon figuring out if this was a good idea. Since he was this drunk maybe he wouldn’t remember what happened here anyways. But I would and I wasn’t sure if I could continue working with him side by side if my heart kept racing when I was close to him thinking of the kiss. Even though my brain was telling me that this was not a good idea, my heart was screaming and almost begging me to fulfil his wish and maybe just give into that desperate need to feel his lips on mine. I leaned in but instead of going for his lips I placed a soft kiss on his cheek instead. As I moved back and looked at his face there was disappointment and maybe a little sadness written all over it. I felt a little bad but at the same time I was proud that I didn’t completely gave in to temptation.

“You don’t like me like that, do you? You already have someone, right?”, Kaeya asked more to himself as towards me since he couldn’t keep eye contact.

“What are you talking about?”, I asked confused about his sudden assumptions.

“I saw you with Bennett today. I already had a feeling that you were close…but when he hugged you that tight, I just knew that I had no chance anymore”, he continued to talk and removed his hand from my cheek.

Wait! Was this the reason he was drinking all alone at the tavern? To forget that Benny hugged me after our mission?

“So you thought that Benny and I are a couple?”, I asked and watched as he slowly nodded.

I couldn’t help my heart from skipping a beat before a smile creeped onto my face. I couldn’t believe that the Kaeya Alberich, cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonious had gotten jealous over Benny hugging me after our mission was completed. Since Benny and I were friends at the adventurer’s guild before I joined the Knights of Favonious it was just natural for me to hug him when we were parting ways again. Now that I thought of it, I never hugged anyone else than Benny because he was my only and closest friend beside Kaeya.

“Is that why you were drinking?”

Kaeyas cheeks turned a darker shade of pink and I couldn’t help but reach out to stroke his cheek this time.

“There was no need for you getting jealous over Benny. He is my closest friend and since we both have so much to do, I never know when I’ll see him again. That’s why I hug him every time we part. There is nothing between us. We’re just friends”, I assured him and watched how his expression turned a little bit softer.

“But why didn’t you kiss me then?”, he asked, worry still coating his voice.

“Because I don’t want you to forget. Who knows if you’ll remember any of this in the morning.”, I explained.

Kaeya still looked as if he was doubting what I said so I leaned down, removed his hair from his forehead and placed another soft kiss there. His eye instantly found mine again as I moved to my original position.

“I promise there is only one person that can make my heart race”, I said smiling down at him.

“Pinkie promise?”, he asked and held out his pinkie.

“Pinkie promise!”

I hooked my finger with his and had to laugh as he started to smile. He moved his arms around my waist and pulled me down onto him, making my whole weight rest on his body. He buried his head in my neck and I could feel his smile on my skin.

“You’re mine now”, he whispered and sighed as if a heavy burden was just lifted from his chest.

Hearing these words come out of his mouth made me happy and sad at the same time. I was really hoping that this wasn’t just the alcohol speaking and this cute and somehow shy Kaeya wouldn’t disappear in the morning. I remembered that we had an important mission in the afternoon so we both should definitely rest now. I pushed myself up from Kaeya and the bed and looked down at him from where I was standing.

“We should sleep. Tomorrow is a big day and we can’t afford to lose any strength.”

Kaeya nodded and instantly yawned after he had laid down properly on the bed as if the sleep suddenly hit him after his head touched the pillow. I made sure to tug him in so he wouldn’t freeze at night and was about to go to sleep in the living room when he stopped me.

“Y/n? Can you stay with me?”, he asked.

“I’ll stay her until you fall asleep. Deal?”, I responded while kneeling next to the bed and reaching out to softly stroke his head.

“Deal”, he whispered sleepy, already closing his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of my fingers running through his hair.

It didn’t take long until he had fallen asleep. I stroked his head one last time before I leaned over the bed and softly pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight, my captain”, I whispered, silently giggling at the nickname I gave him.

I stood up and quietly left the bedroom, not fully closing the door behind me since I feared the clicking of it would wake him. I sneaked through the apartment to the living room and quickly found what I was searching for. After placing the just found blanket on the living room couch, I grabbed a few pillows from the couches and laid down to sleep. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but I could sleep here for a few good hours.

I woke up the next morning as the sunlight started to shine directly into my eyes. I was a little disoriented as I looked around to room remembering what happened yesterday. I stretched after I got up and walked to the kitchen. Since I was sure that Kaeya would have a murder headache as soon as he woke up, I prepared a glass of water and some painkillers I found in one of the kitchen cabinets before I sneaked into his room. He was still sleeping as I arrived so I quietly placed the glass and the pills on the nightstand beside his bed before I sat down on the floor next to the bed. I started to watch him sleep and I had to admit that my heart was really beating faster for this man. I never wanted to admit it before but maybe my crush on him was more than that and had been like this for some time already. Last night really had opened my eyes about how I felt and of course about Kaeya as well. I noticed that he started to move and changed into a kneeling position so I could look at him better. As he opened his eyes still sleepy a small smile appeared as he noticed me.

“Good morning”, he mumbled and moved his arm from under his head towards me.

“Morning, Kaeya. Did you sleep ok?”, I asked and softly grabbed his hand.

“I slept ok. Would have slept better with you though”, he joked with a smile.

“I see you’re back to your old form. I guess the cute and shy Kaeya disappeared from existence again”

I giggled as he rolled his eyes. He must be remembering everything that happened yesterday since his cheeks turned a light pink.

“It is a privilege to see me vulnerable like that, so feel honored. That won’t happen that often”, he explained.

I moved from the floor to the edge of the mattress and sat down as Kaeya sat up on the bed. He instantly held his head and I grabbed the glass and the pills and gave them to him.

“Take these and you’ll feel better”

“Thanks. I really did get drunk for no reason after all. This is my punishment, I guess”, he said laughing before he downed the pills quickly and emptied the glass of water.

“You really did. But there is something for you to look forward to”, I said scooting closer to him.

He tilted his head and looked at me confused. “Promise” I only mouthed silently and watched as his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. Seeing Kaeya flustered like this was really something I could get used to. He looked away for a second before his gaze landed back on me.

“Can I maybe add a request to the promise?”, he asked and I nodded.

“Sure”

“Can I hug you?”, he asked with the most sincere look I had ever seen on him.

I had to smile at his request. It was such a simple task but it still made my heart beat faster. Before I answered him I had already climbed onto the bed and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. I could hear his heartbeat and closed my eyes just taking in his warmth and scent. As I looked up at him, Kaeya had the most beautiful smile on his face I had ever seen. He looked down at me and pulled me up a little bit so both our faces were on the same height.

“Will you please kiss me?”, he asked, his hand moving to my cheek to softly hold it.

“With pleasure”

I connected our lips and almost instantly melted in his arms. The kiss was soft and a bit shy but just as beautiful as I imagined. As we separated both of us had a huge smile on our faces.

“I can’t believe I had to get drunk because of jealousy to be able to make you mine”, he mumbled which made me laugh.

“You could have avoided all that by just asking me instead of assuming things. It would have been way easier. But I have to admit that I wouldn’t want to have missed seeing you get shy as I undressed you. It was a very pleasant sight”, I said and earned a playful hit against my shoulder.

“Don’t remind me. I’m still embarrassed that I couldn’t undress myself”, he complained with a slightly awkward smile on his face.

“I thought it was very amusing. I could get used to that side of yours”, I admitted.

Kaeya lifted one of his brows and looked at me a little bit confused. He then lifted me onto his lap and let his hands rest on the side of my waist as he looked at me.

“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”, he asked and I shook my head.

“I’m not. You looked really cute with your cheeks all red and shy about me undressing you”, I said while I moved my hands to cup his cheeks.

Kaeya blushed a little bit as I stroked his cheeks. He tightened his grip on my waist a little bit and sighed.

“So you’re telling me I can let me guard down when I’m around you?”

“Of course, only if you are comfortable with it.”, I added and leaned forward to kiss his nose.

He closed his eyes for a second before he pulled me into a tighter embrace than before. He buried his face in my chest while I placed my head on his.

“You have to take care of me from now on”, he mumbled.

“I will. I promise.”, I whispered leaving a soft kiss on his hair.

#kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #drunk kaeya #jealous kaeya

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