#he spent the last two weeks helping her hobble around in her apartment
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can you write something where thena faints out of nowhere? some angst maybe?
love your fics, xoxo
Thena groans, waking up to the familiar feeling of an on-call bed under her. That shouldn't be right, though, because she's definitely supposed to be off by now. She's pretty sure she was headed to the parking lot.
A throat is cleared loudly.
Thena picks herself up, although she's dizzier than she expected herself to be. She sits up, though, looking down as she finds Gil's hoodie falling from having been laid over her. She looks up, and of course he's there. "Gil?"
He scowls at her.
Thena blinks at him. She's never seen that expression on him (at least not directed at her). "What happened?"
"You fainted, Thena," he informs her sharply, crossing his arms at her from the chair at the tiny on-call desk. "Just outright collapsed on the way to the parking lot. You're lucky I was loading up the bus when I found you."
Thena sighs. Not only is it embarrassing enough that she dropped like a fly, but also that she's sure everyone watched as Gil carried her back in here.
And that's besides him apparently being mad at her.
"I brought you back in on a stretcher, if you're worried about your reputation," he grumbles, taking his feet off the stool and slapping them down on the ground. "I wheeled you in because they're for people who are in need of medical attention."
Thena rolls her eyes, not one to take any sort of attitude lying down. "It's not a big deal, Gil. I'm sure they said I was perfectly healthy, no? Isn't that why we're in here and not in a room?"
"Actually, we're in here because I wheeled you here and asked Sersi to come check on you privately, so the interns wouldn't know."
Oh. That's...actually very considerate of him.
"And you fainted because you're barely cleared to come back to work, and you've immediately come into a 24 hour shift?" Gil glares at her--actually glares at her! "What were you thinking, Thena!"
"Well-"
"And I'm sure you haven't had enough to eat or drink," he looks at her, tilting his head to look at her as she holds the hoodie sitting piled on her lap over her blankets.
"I-"
"You're coming back from an injury, Thena--a serious one!" Gil stands now, apparently unable to take it any longer. "I mean, what if-"
"I'm sorry."
It comes out so small, almost like a squeak. Gil pauses in his anger and Thena is horrified to feel herself tearing up. She bites her lip.
"I know I shouldn't have," she admits quietly, toying with his hood in her hands. "But I...I couldn't take sitting around at home anymore. I couldn't take...thinking about it."
Gil softens, and he looks more like her Gil immediately. She looks at him and he nods, coming over and sitting beside her. He's nice and close, allowing her to absorb some of his warmth. "I think about it too. Nightmares?"
Thena shivers, "some."
He knows. He knows because he spent a good deal of time at her apartment while she was on leave. And while he was there, more than once he had to wake her up from a dream of being stuck under that car again. He'd had a few while sleeping on her couch.
Gil takes the hoodie from her hands, and her face flashes horror at the thought of him taking it away from her. He wraps it around her shoulders, though, pulling her to lean against him. "I'm sorry I yelled."
Thena allows herself the small moment, nuzzling her face against his chest. "No, I'm sorry. I remember how I felt when you came in from a run and collapsed right in front of me. I would never want to do that to you."
Gil holds Thena to him, kissing the top of her head as she threads her fingers through his. "Thena, that was the second most scared I've ever been in my life."
She leans her head up, pressing her forehead into his cheek, "I'm sorry, Gil."
"It's okay, Sweetie," he forgives immediately, because of course he does. He presses a kiss to her forehead and looks at her, "you're off rotation, you know. You should lie down for a bit. I'll take you home later."
She could just argue. She could tell him that they can't always be driving each other's cars to work. She could say that she just wants to go home and curl up in her own bed for another 24 hours. She could tell him her godforsaken leg hurts, for that matter.
Gil helps lay his hoodie over her again as she lies down, her head on his lap instead of the pillow. She drapes her arm over his knees. She has terrible sleeping posture for a doctor.
"You should sleep too, baby," she mumbles, already half asleep again.
Gil is in the process of just that, crossing his arms over himself with his back against the wall. At least his legs are stretched out. "Way ahead of you."
Thena tugs at the back of his shirt, then shakes the pillow she's abandoning in favour of his big strong/soft thigh. "'Hind your back."
Gil smiles, leaning forward and sliding the pillow up behind his back and neck as far as possible, trying to disturb Thena as little as possible. "Thanks, Honey."
#Thenamesh Doctor AU#a lover's quarrel?#just kidding not in my house#look#Gil just wants his precious (work) wife to take care of herself#he spent the last two weeks helping her hobble around in her apartment#and she is very much going stir crazy#as soon as she got a cane to help her walk#Gil is like honey did you go for a little walk after physio?#and she's like yep I went for a 5 mile walk#and poor Gil nearly coughs up a lung#these two own the on-call rooms#they're always locked when they're in there#and people are like#they MUST be fucking#and Kingo is like even worse...they're snuggling#and everyone is like we do not believe you#Kingo is that kid getting hit with the ball#something something the gift of prophecy#also#we love story beats#we love repercussions#we love reaction episodes#I just wanted a little more in here before the next big thing for them#I didn't want to just gloss over any of it#this is a big deal for them!
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Hi! I love your work and I’ve been binging it for a while! <3 I was wondering if I could have some angst and a broken heart since it seems I like to suffer. ;’) Can I have headcannon with an insecure adventurer reader who’s in a relationship with one of the Mondstadt boys (or just the dark night because I’m down bad since he didn’t come home). They are insecure because while they are a great adventurer, ever since the traveler came, they’ve been living in the traveler’s shadow with everyone, even possibly the readers lover, praising the traveler. The reader takes on increasingly difficult missions, even putting their life on the line since they feel as though they have to prove themselves. In an attempt to stop the reader, the Mondstadt boys tell the reader that they aren’t the traveler, but instead of the good intent behind it, the reader takes it as if their lover prefers the traveler and decides to try and give up adventuring since they realized that not once did their lover go on an adventure with them, but they did with the Traveler. This was long, I’m sorry, but feel free to reject it! Stay safe and healthy!
hey!!! a few little notes: i ended up going with just diluc and instead of hcs, i wrote a little one-shot. i hope you enjoy it and i hope i nailed your idea lol <3 enjoy! (requests are open)
also: u will pull diluc!!! and thank u for ur support :3
before reading: 1.8k words, little mentions of blood but nothing graphic, kinda angsty w feelings of despair (tw?? idk), under cut for length
The first time you realized you had fallen into Lumine’s shadow is when your weekly commissions are given to her. Jean didn’t give you much explanation when she sent you home for the day but you could only assume it’s because Lumine could do them better
The second time is when you were absent for a weekend to clear out Hiluchurls from Wolvendome and when you returned back to Mondstadt to share the news, everyone was preoccupied helping Lumine find her brother.
The third time is when, despite your tireless efforts to protect your hometown this year, Lumine was chosen as the Windblume Star.
You had gone from the Knights of Favonius' greatest knight to a mere shadow. Your accomplishments and achievements felt like nothing when compared to Lumine’s and you became desperate to be known again. You watched your teammates pick Lumine over you, choosing to accompany her on adventures, and your friends constantly chatting about how amazing she was.
And, well, she was.
Lumine was beautiful. She was delicate and soft and fought gracefully, while you often came home covered in dirt or blood. And she was kind - so, so kind. She offered her hand to you on multiple occasions, never once seeing you as the threat you saw her as. And beyond her looks, Lumine was passionate and strong and everything you were not. She had everything you had and more except for one thing.
Diluc.
But when you saw Lumine sitting at the bar in the tavern, sharing a daring story with your boyfriend, you became doubtful.
From your seat on the second level of the tavern, you had a perfect view of the pair. Diluc looked happy - perhaps even happier than with you - and your heart broke. Would Lumine be the end of an era between you and Diluc? You loved Diluc to death and all you wanted was for him to be happy.
The truth was, you were running out of patience, running out of fake enthusiasm and fake laughs and fake smiles when Diluc bragged to you about what Lumine did that day. The constant praises and compliments towards a woman who wasn’t even in the room tore you apart bit-by-bit. You were finding it harder to get through each day as Diluc slipped through your fingers.
When you finally broke your silence, you talked to Kaeya.
It was an accidental breakdown - Kaeya had made a cheeky comment about how his brother was spending an awfully lot of time with the traveler and you just broke down. Realizing the severity of the situation, Kaeya pulled you into his office and closed the door. He let you sit at his desk until you calmed down.
“What’s going on?”
So, you told him. You finally let out the bottled up despair and, frankly, jealousy you had been holding in for the past few weeks. You told Kaeya about how you went from ‘hero to zero’ and how you didn’t even deserve to be a knight anymore.
“If I’m not a knight, I don’t have a purpose,” You said solemnly. “I haven’t picked up my sword in a month, Kaeya.”
Kaeya makes a noise of acknowledgement and urges you to continue.
“And I can’t stand how she’s better than me! I’m the Revolutionary Knight - not her!” Despite your angered words, you’re suppressing panic deep in your chest. “She’s already taken so much from me and she’s going to take Diluc.”
“Diluc loves you,” Kaeya reassures you. You’ve never heard his voice this soft and serious before. “Nothing Lumine can do is going to make Diluc ever stop loving you.”
Deep down, you knew that. You knew that Diluc loved you and planned to marry you one day, you knew that. It was just hard to convince your heart of that. As you stared down at the floor, you heard Kaeya sigh.
“Maybe you just need to show him you’re just as good at Lumine.”
That night, you packed a bag before Diluc got home from the tavern and left for Liyue. You would fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring back Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would see your heroic nature and forget all about Lumine - they all would.
***
When Diluc came home that night to find your absence, he began to worry. You were never one to leave without saying anything so Diluc rushed to the Knight’s Headquarters quickly. He was fortunate that Jean and Kaeya were still there finalizing some paperwork.
“Master Diluc?” Jean asked, rising from her desk as Diluc rushed inside her office. “Is everything alright?”
“Y/N is missing,” He said quickly.
“Missing? Are you sure?”
“Yes! They never go anywhere without telling me,” Diluc continued. He noticed Kaeya avert his gaze and snapped his eyes over to his brother, “Kaeya, what do you know?”
“I may have told them to do something heroic to win you back,” Kaeya said, realizing his idea may not have been the best.
Diluc’s eyes widened, “Win me back?”
Kaeya sighed and explained what was going on with you. Diluc’s heart dropped into his stomach and he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. He should have been praising you, not Lumine. “They mentioned something about the Cryo Regisvine-”
Diluc didn’t let Kaeya speak another word before he took off. You couldn’t have gotten that far and when Diluc noticed the darkening weather, his feet picked up their pace.
***
A fierce gust of wind made you cover your face with your arms. Out of nowhere, it started pouring rain but you wouldn’t let that stop you. You pushed through the impending storm and made your way down into the cave where the ice monster lived. You gripped your sword tightly as the monster sensed your presence and unraveled, turning the downcoming rain into shards of ice that landed on your skin like needles.
Without much delay, you charged the Cryo Regisvine and landed three hits on its corolla before one of its leafy arms wacked into you, sending you hurdling backwards. Your sword was knocked out of your hand and you struggled to catch your breath.
More sharp icicles pierced your skin and a spray of freezing air coated your skin. Yet, you still managed to grab your sword and stand. Your hobbled toward the monster again and when the same leafy arm came towards you, you slashed at it.
The monster let out a screech and retracted itself before slamming it’s head down towards your body. You dodged the first hit but were caught off guard when the second hit knocked you off your feet. You barely had time to roll away when it slammed it’s head down a third time.
“Y/N!”
Diluc surged forwards, grabbing your arm and forcefully pulling you to your feet. Your sword became lost from your hold and the sudden movement caused the blade to scrape down your leg before clambering to the ground again. A nasty gash was left and you seethed.
He couldn’t even think as he pulled you away from the monster. You had never seen Diluc move so fast. He didn’t let you go until you were both far enough from the cave to feel secure. Diluc’s arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly and you were too stunned to say anything.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Your mind felt foggy. You tried to open your mouth and speak but no words came out.
“Do you realize how dangerous that was?”
“I just...Lumine…”
Diluc pulled back at this and stared in your eyes. You couldn’t quite match the emotion on his face. “You’re not Lumine!”
His words cut deep and you felt tears soak your eyes. Maybe if your head was clearer and you could actually hear your thoughts, you would have realized Diluc didn’t mean it that way. But the only thing consuming your mind was that he was right. You weren’t Lumine and you would never be Lumine. “I know!” You cried out suddenly, “That’s why I have to go and kill that thing! So I can give you a hoarfrost core and you’ll love me again!”
Diluc only looked at you. His hands ran down from your shoulders to your hands and he brought your left hand to his lips. You heard him sigh before kissing your knuckle gently.
Your wet hair was dripping water down your face in freezing cold droplets. At that moment you felt useless. You weren’t able to fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would leave you for Lumine and there was nothing you could do about it.
“You’re hurt,” Diluc said, motioning to your leg. In your desolate state, you had forgotten about the gaping wound on your leg that was pouring blood. “Come on - we’re going home.”
You were too upset to protest and let Diluc maneuver your body onto his back. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck and relished in the warmth his vision released. You held onto Diluc like it was the last time you ever would.
The walk back to Mondstadt was silent and when you two arrived at your shared house, Diluc let you down on the couch. You could only stare at your lap.
“I’m sorry,” You finally mumbled, “Next time I’ll finish what I started.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Diluc said sternly, “No way you’re ever going there alone again.”
Your face stiffened into annoyance. “I’m the Revolutionary Knight - I can do it.”
“No, you can’t.” His words seemed cold and unusual but they were coated in concern. Diluc reached up and cupped your face with his large hands. You tried to pull away but his grip was firm, “It’s okay.”
The situation was suddenly overwhelming and far too much to deal with. The tears you had been holding back tumbled down your cheeks and your words were choked between sobs, “Lumine is so perfect and I’m not...I don’t want you to leave me...I know I’m not good enough but-”
He stopped your rambling with a kiss. “Don’t ever think you’re not good enough,” He whispered, taking you into his arms. You hid your sobs in Diluc’s chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Eventually, your cries settled.
Diluc spent the rest of the night dressing your wound and laying with you in your bed. He didn’t stop comforting you until every horrible thought about yourself was gone from your mind. In the morning he would talk to you more but for now, his job was to make you feel strong again.
And it would take a while but one day you would come to realize that you were just as good as Lumine and no one could truly compare to you. Like the storm on that horrifying night, this too would pass.
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#diluc x reader#diluc#diluc ragnvindr#diluc ragnivindr x reader#genshin one shot#genshin impact oneshot#genshin self insert#genshin x you#diluc x you
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my little flower
pairing: dad!bucky barnes x mom!reader
summary: bucky’s daughter turns one.
warnings: angst, and fluff. probably canon errors but i don’t have the comics on hand sorryyyyy
a/n: just me expressing emotion through mr boobky boobernoobs. also the little letter the reader has written is what i have written for my daughters birthday. LASTLY i know i have a story for Henry Cavill and his daughters name is lavender and i was gonna change it but then it wouldn’t make sense so i just kept it yk. anyways, hope you enjoy.
Bucky glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
he was alternating between looking at the clock, his phone, and his sleeping daughter.
she turned one tomorrow, and he had no clue what to write. there were so many things he wanted to say, but he knew he had limited space on instagram captions to do so.
he wasn’t into instagram too much, but some how Sam and Wanda had convinced him to post for his daughters birthday. he had a few other pictures of you and her, and one or two of him on there already.
posting those seemed so easy for him. he took the picture, thought of a caption pre war Bucky would use, and hit post.
but when it came to his daughters birthday? the 106 year old was clueless.
he had asked you for advice, and you had just told him to remember what it felt the first time he held her, which was not helpful, because the first thing he felt was fear.
then, an overwhelming and crushing sense of love. like everything made sense. everything was clearer, because of the tiny little baby in his arms. he was terrified. more scared than he was when he was hanging on to that train for dear life, hoping he could just reach Steve’s hand. more scared than when he knew his memories of Steve and Rebecca and everyone in his past was fading due to Zola and Hydra.
a million times more scared than when he watched himself dust away in that beautiful Wakandan forest.
he was scared, but at the same time, he felt so safe. it was the same kind of safe he felt with you, but more intense. he knew that the little girl he was holding would never judge him for his past. all she would do is love him, love her Tătic.
Tătic. he had heard a Romanian child say it when he was seeking refuge in Bucharest, and he knew that’s what he wanted to be called. not dad, daddy, dada, papa, or any other versions of father. he wanted Tătic.
he felt safe, at home even, in Bucharest. yes, his apartment was rather shitty, but it was his. he had something materialistic and tangible that was fully his, after not having anything, not even his own body, to himself for over 50 years.
Bucky refocused his eyes on his phone, and decided to glance at what you had posted. he sighed as he realized that it was absolutely beautiful, and that nothing he could do would top it.
it was a video of all the firsts that Bucky had insisted on recording. he remembered sitting in his bed, in Bucharest, a few weeks after getting there. he had been thinking about Rebecca, and suddenly, a memory of her first steps came to him. he saw her little chubby body wobble before she took her first steps into their mother’s waiting arms. Bucky knew he couldn’t have been too old, but immediately started sobbing when he realized he’d never get to relive that moment. he didn’t stop sobbing for a good few hours. out of happiness, sadness, regret, he didn’t know. he had scrambled to grab a journal and wrote down every detail of that moment, before stuffing it in his go bag.
reliving it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about before, in 1945. there weren’t affordable video cameras, and there was no way to store them forever. so when Lavender came along, he insisted that every little first be recorded so he could relive it over and over again.
he watched as she took her first breath, rolled for the first time, crawled for the first time, said her first word (it was ‘plum’) and walked for the first time.
his eyes drifted down to the paragraph, and focused on reading the words.
‘lavender.
your name represents purity, silence, devotion, calmness, serenity, and grace. i gave you this name because i know you will represent all of those things. i named you after Lavender Brown from Harry Potter. Lavender was a beautiful, strong, and amazing character. she showered Ron with love, and adoration, which is all i have felt this past year of being your mama. you remind me of Lavender in so many ways. from the smiles i get to see in the morning, to the cuddles i get at night, to the way you, just this week, saw another child crying in daycare and went and offered your toy up without a second thought. you then hobbled away, and found a new toy. you never came to me to show you what you did, you never took another child’s toy now that yours was gone, you just did it. that is something Lavender did. Lavender gave everything to Ron without a second thought. she may not have been appreciated, but i will appreciate you and all of the little things that you do to help others, even at just a year old. you bring light and love to whoever is near you. you love with your whole being, which i adore. you’re only one, but you put your hands in the air and sing (babble, really) along to every single praise song, you dance, you sit quietly during prayer, and most importantly you love God with everything in your tiny little body. from the moment the nurses laid your even tinier body on my chest, it was just you, me, and your father. i had dreamed of that moment for years, but nothing compared to it. one year ago today, you were placed on my chest, a screaming red little bundle, and you instantly calmed down. i remember looking down at you and being so happy that i finally had my little girl. i remember thinking “God really sent me an angel in the form of a baby,” which is EXACTLY what he did. you are my sweet baby girl, and always will be. i will love and. adore you for the rest of my life. my sweetie pie, my Laffy Taffy, my love. my little flower, Lavender. happy birthday.’
how could he follow that?
he took another glance at the crib that sat at the end of the bed, and watched as his daughter sighed, and pushed her diapered butt up in the air before continuing to snooze.
he looked down at his phone, and decided to just follow his heart. let the words flow. it didn’t matter if it made sense, but he wanted the world to know just how much he loved her.
he took a deep breath, and began to type.
‘lavender rebecca barnes.
there are so many words that i could use to describe how wonderful, sweet, kind, adorable, and gracious you are, but even all of those could never fully express how much i love you, and how much you mean to me.
when your mom told me about you, i was terrified. i have done so many bad things in my life, why was God rewarding me with a tiny little human? i spent so many nights praying to God that i would never hurt you. that you would never see me as the world does. that you would never judge me for the things that i did.
but i didn’t have to worry. the second i saw your little face, all of those stresses and anxieties melted away. as i held you, i realized that you were mine. fully mine. having something of my own is something that i was deprived of for many years, and one day you will learn about that.
when i held you for the first time, i was petrified. you were tiny. the smallest, but most real thing i had ever held. you didn’t cry, you just gazed up at me. almost as if you knew i was your Tătic. that you knew i was your father.
your mother tells me that when babies are born, they don’t understand the grasp of ‘mother and father’, they more recognize who is a safe caregiver and who isn’t.
you, without a hesitation, recognized me as a safe caregiver, and have stood by that every one of these last 365 you have graced me, your mother, and everyone around you with your presence.
it has been a pleasure to watch you grow, and as much as it makes me sad knowing that one day you’ll know the truth about me, i know you won’t judge me. i know you will love me for me. the man who created you, who helped give you life.
you are such a special little girl, and i can only hope to show you just how special you are for the rest of my life.
i love you, lavender rebecca barnes.’
his thumb shook as it hovered over the post button, but he pressed it anyways. the screen brought up a loading symbol for less than a second, and then the post was there.
he shut off his phone, and placed it on the charger next to him, before getting up and walking to the crib.
he lifted her out, and laid her on his chest, before walking back to the bed and sitting down carefully. he gazed down at his daughter, a fact that still blew his mind, as she slept so soundly, even with the coolness of the metal arm probably seeping through the fabric of her white kitty cat onesie.
he glanced over at the clock, and didn’t stop the tear that rolled down his face when it hit 12:00.
“happy birthday, my little flower.”
#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes smut#mcu bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan angst#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan man you lookin good
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Rebuilding Family
Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
A/N: hello, my loves! i am a senior in high school so the next two weeks are going to be extremely hectic for me with final exams and other senior stuff. i will try to get out chapters when i can but they may not always be on time!
Masterlist
Chapter 30
You returned home to see Spencer at the kitchen table with his laptop out and a bunch of papers sprawled out in front of him.
“What’s all this?” you asked.
“So you know how we were discussing moving into a slightly bigger house to have room for the twins,” Spencer said, “I found us a realtor and I have been printing out different houses that fit our requirements all day. You can go through them and I’ll send the approved ones over to her so she can schedule us a tour.”
“Alright, let’s see them,” you smiled, taking the seat next to him.
His hand immediately found its way to your belly and began his rubbing motions.
“This one is close to Jo's elementary school but she will only be there for 2 more years but the twins will be going there eventually. It’s just a little bit of a bigger yard than we have here. But, it’s pretty far away from your work,” Spencer stated.
He continued to go through the contenders, thoroughly explaining every pro and con that you wouldn’t even have thought of.
“This last one has the biggest backyard of them all. It’s about 8 minutes closer to your work than here. It’s even got a little sun room we can use as a book nook! It is farther from Jo’s school but it’s about a 3 minute drive to JJ and Will’s so we could start a carpool with them,” Spencer spoke.
“I think that one is my favorite as of now. And, I’m sure Jo wouldn’t have any arguments about being closer to her best friend,” you giggled.
“There’s also one more thing we need to brainstorm,” you began, “Names for the little ones. I honestly spent the better part of the day trying to think of some but I just can’t.”
“I have an idea,” Spencer smiled softly, “Ophelia.”
It was Spencer’s favorite song on your playlist that you played in the car. He even sang along to it sometimes, he actually had a nice voice when he wholeheartedly sang without caring about potentially embarrassing himself.
“Heaven help a fool who falls in love,” you grinned, finishing the lyric.
“I’m stuck on a boy name though,” Spencer huffed.
Jo came strolling into the kitchen to get her afternoon snack.
“Baby J, do you have any name suggestions for your little brother?” you asked.
Her face lit up and she ran back upstairs. She came racing back down with two books in her hand.
“Daddy, remember?” she held up a picture book.
“That’s the story I read you last night,” Spencer nodded.
“Name him ‘Oliver’ like the little baby elephant in the book!” she exclaimed.
“I actually love it,” you grinned.
“Ollie for short,” Spencer added with a smile.
“And for sister, Pinkalicious!” Jo beamed, holding up the other picture book.
“Aw, baby, I’m sorry. I think we already decided on ‘Ophelia’ for sister but we’ll keep that in the back of our minds,” you told her, giving her a pat on the head before she went back upstairs.
“I don’t know Spencer, Pinkalicious Y/L/N-Reid has quite the ring to it,” you giggled.
-
Your maternity leave had officially begun the week before you were due. You were lounging on the couch watching a nature documentary with Jo when you felt the sudden urge to use the bathroom.
As you stood, you felt the rushing of warm water trail down your thighs, effectively soaking your leggings, followed by a searing cramping sensation.
You immediately sat down on the hardwood floor, cringing in pain and exhaling sharply.
“Jo,” you breathed out, “I need you to call Daddy and tell him the twins are coming and get me a towel please.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Jo nodded, hopping off the couch and grabbing your phone.
She pressed Spencer’s contact as she ran upstairs to get you a towel.
Spencer was in the checkout line at the grocery store when his phone started to buzz in his pocket.
He fished it out, seeing your contact pop up, “Hey, love. I’m already in line but if you need something, make it quick so I can go run and get it.”
“Daddy! It’s Jo,” Jo announced from the other side of the phone.
“Hi, Princess. Is everything okay?” Spencer asked.
“Mommy peed a lot,” she started to say.
Spencer then heard your scream of pain in the background.
“And she said the twins are coming,” Jo stated.
“Uh-um-okay Jo, tell Mommy I’ll be there in 10 minutes. And um call Auntie JJ to come pick you up,” Spencer frantically spoke.
“Next,” the cashier called out.
“Um hi, I just got a call that my wife is going into labor so I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
The cashier smiled, “No problem. I think your wife needs you a lot more right now than these groceries.”
“Thank you,” Spencer rushed out of the store, breaking every speed limit on the way home.
JJ was pulling into the driveway at the same time Spencer was.
“Oh good, Jo called you,” Spencer said, exiting his car, “Thank you for taking her.”
“It’s no problem. She can stay with us for as long as you need,” JJ replied as they both rushed into the house.
You were still on the ground, sitting on the towel Jo retrieved for you.
“Spence, it hurts so bad like really really bad. Worse than Jo,” you grabbed his hand with tears running down your face.
“I’m so sorry, love, that I can’t take some of that pain away but we’ve got to get you to the hospital with doctors and nurses who can help,” he spoke softly, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs.
You nodded and Spencer held out his arm for you to grab on to so he could help you up.
“Hospital bag?” you questioned.
“Already in the car, love. You’re doing so good, look we’re almost at the car,” he encouraged you.
“I’m going to ruin your seat,” you huffed out, motioning to your soggy pants.
“Love, that is the furthest of my concerns right now,” he assured you, helping you into the car and buckling you in.
-
“My wife’s in labor!” Spencer announced as he helped you hobble into the ER.
Immediately, a nurse rolled a wheelchair over to you.
“I called in the car. Dr. Collins is supposed to be on call,” Spencer said.
“Yes, right this way,” the nurse guided you to a room in the delivery wing where Dr. Collins was already waiting.
“Ah, the Reids! I guess the babies decided to come out a week early,” she smiled as Spencer and the nurse helped you into the bed.
“I’m going to check to see how many centimeters dilated you are. You can start pushing at 10,” she stated, “...and you are somehow already there. These babies are very eager to meet their parents!”
“I’m going to check the ultrasound real quick,” Dr. Collins rolled the machine over to you and scanned the wand across your belly.
“So unfortunately, we aren’t going to be able to have a vaginal birth today like planned. The baby girl is ready to come out first but she is in breech position meaning she is flipped the opposite way we want her. We’re going to bring you up to the OR for a C-section, okay?”
You looked at Spencer panickedly.
“Scared, Spence” is all you could muster.
“I can be in there with her, right?” Spencer asked.
“That is correct,” Dr. Collins nodded.
“Love, you are the strongest and bravest person I know. You can do this,” Spencer brushed your stray hairs back, “I will be right by your side the whole time and then you can finally have Ophelia and Oliver in your arms.”
“Okay,” you nodded, wincing as another contraction intensified.
“I love you so much,” Spencer kissed the top of your head as they wheeled you up to the OR.
The nurse handed Spencer scrubs to put on over his normal clothes, “Love, I need to let go of your hand for just a second to put these on but then I’ll be right back.”
Spencer continued to give you words of encouragement and promises of all the things you were going to do together as a family with the new babies to distract you from the discomfort throughout the c-section.
When you heard the first cry, you started to get choked up.
“Oh god, she’s so beautiful, Y/N. We made that,” Spencer sobbed.
You squeezed his hand, “Go.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer asked.
“Ophelia is crying for her Daddy,” you smiled through happy tears.
Spencer stood and was out of your line of vision but you could still hear his occasional sobs and him calling out the weight and other things to you from across the room.
You heard the second distinct cry. You could already tell your babies apart from just their wails alone.
“Ollie’s here, love!” Spencer bawled, “He’s just as precious as Ophelia.”
You were stitched up and brought into the recovery room as the babies were measured, tested, and swaddled. Spencer rolled two bassinets into your room with the biggest smile on his face and watery eyes.
“I can’t believe they’re here,” you wept, “How are they so cute?”
Spencer gently lifted up Ollie and placed him into your left arm and then Ophelia in your right.
You held the cooing babies in your arms, looking down at them in complete awe.
“Spence, can you take one of them?” you asked, “I mean I would love to hold them both forever but I’m thoroughly exhausted.”
“Ollie seems to be on the same page,” Spencer smiled at the little boy snoozing in your arms, “I’ll take Ophelia for a little walk and make some phone calls to our families and the team.”
Sleeping didn’t seem to be on Ophelia’s schedule as she was staring around the room with her big wide eyes, trying to take in the whole world.
“Ophelia, that’s your Dada,” you explained to her even though you knew she couldn’t understand.
“Yes, I’m your Dada,” Spencer beamed as he accepted the baby into his arms.
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#spencer reid fluff#dad!spencer#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer x reader#reid x reader#cm fanfic#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fic#criminal minds#cm fic
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All I Need
Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader
Words: 4512
Summary: Andy has been drowning his grief at your bar for weeks. You help him dry out after a particularly bad night.
Warnings: Major angst!, softish Andy Barber, slight AU (spoilers for Defending Jacob book), explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), descriptions of excessive drinking by adult of appropriate age, SMUT, 18+ only!
A/N: I have officially jumped on the love train for everyone’s favorite floofy lawyer. The sad!boi activated my caretaker instincts so this is pretty soft compared to my normal fics, and extremely angsty. Plus the smut kind of got away from me, I actually had to stop myself from writing even more!
Checkout my masterlist and join my taglist if your inclined!
“Shit!! Jesse!” you screamed over your shoulder towards the kitchen, grabbing the bat from under the register as you jumped over the bar to break up the fight.
You swore under your breath as you moved toward the two men who were brawling. The smaller one seemed to have the upper hand, but it didn’t seem like the larger man was putting up much resistance. Maggie just stood there watching them with bambi eyes as you heard your giant cook rumble behind you, ripping off his apron to lend you a hand.
“What the fuck happened, Mags?” You hissed at your bartender, trying to haul the men apart with little success.
“Neal just came over and said he was sorry, and he just lost it.” The poor girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. Granted, she probably wasn’t expecting to have to deal with brawls in downtown Newton at a lawyer bar, but Neal sure seemed to invite violent reactions whenever he opened his stupid mouth.
You lost your patience and smashed an empty glass on the floor next to the two men, shocking them out of it. Neal rose to his feet with a look of fury on his face, but you kept your eyes on Andy Barber.
He’d spent pretty much every night this week since the funeral at your bar. His face was pallid and he had dark rings under his eyes. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, and he smelled like stale bourbon. Now he was rolling around on the floor aimlessly like a slug.
“Get the fuck out of my bar, Neal.” You said exasperatedly, spying the mostly empty bottle of bourbon on Barber’s table.
“What, I didn’t do anything!” the giant whined at you.
“Really?! You couldn’t just leave the poor guy alone? Jesus Neal! I don’t wanna see you in here for a month.” You hooked your arms under Andy’s and dragged him to sit on the bench, his head lolling drunkenly on his neck as you tried to assess how far gone he was.
“Fuck you, bitch.” Neal spat at you as he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the front door behind him.
“Have a great night!” You called after him, sarcastically, flipping him off.
“You sure that’s a good idea, boss?” Jesse asked, his massive arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head at you.
“Who cares, I hate that smug asshole. Hey, Andy?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face and he slapped your hand away lazily, growling under his breath. “You sneak behind the bar again, man?”
“I swear, I didn’t sell him a bottle, Y/N.” Her chin was quivering as tears slowly leaked down her cheeks.
“I know Mags, he’s a sneaky bastard. Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re not in any trouble. Go to the bathroom and splash some water on your face.” You watched her scurry off to the bathroom and rubbed a hand over your face. “Fuck. I’m gonna call in Emma to give Maggie a hand. You ok locking up tonight Jess?”
“Sure, what’re you thinking?”
You just stared at Andy with overwhelming pity as he almost slid of the bench, forcing you to keep a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna take him back to his hotel and help him dry out. Wouldn’t feel right just kicking him to the curb.”
“You’re too soft, Y/N.” Jess chortled at you.
“Yeah, maybe. Can you bring me an ice bucket?” You hooked his arm over your shoulder and hauled him to his feet so you could make your way out to your car.
Jess got your bucket from behind the bar as you hobbled outside. You managed to get your passenger door open and you slid Andy inside. His head rolled on his shoulders as you buckled him in before shoving the bucket into his lap.
“Andy, can you hear me? Don’t you fucking puke in my car!”
He grunted in acknowledgment and wrapped his arms around the bucket, curling himself over to hang his head above it.
“You sure you shouldn’t be taking him to a hospital, Y/N?”
“No… mmph… no fucking hospital!” Andy slurred at you as you slammed the door closed.
“I’m pretty sure he’d jump out of the car if he thought I was taking him to the hospital Jess.” You murmured as you circled to the driver’s side. “Thanks for closing, you’re the best!”
You watched him wave in your rearview as you drove off, making sure to keep one eye on Andy as he groaned over his bucket.
You reached his hotel in 15 minutes, grateful for the short drive as the man was looking greener by the second. You dug your hands in the pockets of his coat, searching for the keys to his room and you thankfully found them quickly. You were relieved to see he was on the first floor, as you didn’t trust your ability to safely get him up the stairs.
Getting Andy out of your car was a deal harder than getting him in, as he slipped further into his alcohol induced stupor. You almost dropped him when you wrenched him out of his seat, and you basically carried him to his room.
You somehow managed to get the door unlocked and drag him inside right when you heard his stomach roil. You cursed under your breath as you scrambled to get him to the bathroom, shoving his head in the toilet just in time as he emptied his gut.
“Shit, Andy.” You hissed, your hands on your knees as you tried your best to breathe deeply and get accustomed to the scent of his alcohol-soaked stomach contents. Once you were sure he was relatively stable, you moved to the kitchenette and filled a glass with tepid water before returning to find him leaned back against the wall. “Drink.” You ordered, kneeling beside him and bringing the glass up to his lips.
His eyes locked onto yours as he chugged the water down greedily. No sooner had he swallowed the glass’ contents than he was lunging forward to throw it back up. You tutted worriedly as you rubbed a hand over his back and used the other to start the shower.
“Why the fuck are you here, Y/N?” He grumbled miserably, not bothering to lift his head as you dragged his coat over his shoulders and threw out into the living area.
“I couldn’t have you killing yourself in my bar, Andy. Where’s your phone?” His stomach seemed to have calmed down, so you drew him to lean back against the wall and started to tug off his boots.
“S’in my back pocket.” He slurred at you. You rolled him over and drew the phone out of his jeans to set it on the counter. “You could’ve let me do it here.”
“Nah.” You said. “If you quit coming around, what excuse am I gonna have to kick Neal out?” You rolled up your sleeves and thrust your hand under the shower’s flow, checking the temperature. “Hey, don’t you dare pass out on me!” You slapped him in the face as he started to doze off and you worked on getting him undressed. “I’m fucking serious, Barber, you don’t get to drink yourself to death on my watch.” You finally got his shirt off and started to drag his jeans down his legs.
“But why?” His eyes were boring into you now, pleading for some kind of answer to what possible reason there was for him to stick around as they welled up with tears.
You chewed your lip as you thought about it.
Andy had been a fixture at your bar for years. Always coming by for a celebratory drink after a win, or when he was working late on a difficult case. Even during Jacob’s trial, he’d stopped by with Joanna a few times to hash out details of the case. No matter how much stress he was under, you were always able to make him smile, and he always left a very generous tip no matter who was serving him. Your bar had been one of the only places he’d always felt welcome, and you had no qualms about kicking out anyone who wanted to give him a hard time.
Then the crash happened. He lost Jacob first; he was DOA to the hospital. His visits to your bar were more somber then. You didn’t try to make him smile, you barely even talked to him. But you’d drink with him in silence when he was the last patron in the bar, sitting across from him in his booth as the rest of the staff shut things down, occasionally placing your hand over his and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles in a comforting gesture.
They had taken Laurie off life support 2 weeks ago, and after her funeral was when he really started to spiral. Rather than nursing his usual three drinks, he was downing whole bottles a night. You had to instruct your staff to cut him off after 6, or he would end up like he was tonight. This wasn’t the first time you had caught him with a stolen bottle.
You couldn’t say why you cared so much. You weren’t even sure you were really friends. But through everything that happened, you seemed to be the only constant, an anchor point for him as his world fell apart.
“I dunno Andy.” You murmured as you drew off his socks before rolling him into the tub with a lurch, making him gasp as the cold water hit his skin. “I guess I’d miss you.”
He glared at you as he shivered under the shower’s stream, huddled around himself in only his boxers.
“Do I need to wash you, or do you think you can handle that on your own?” You asked, handing him a washcloth and some soap.
“I can handle it.” He hissed, snatching them from your hands as he braced himself against the wall and drew himself slowly to his feet.
“Good.” You started gathering up his soiled clothes. “Make sure to wash the vomit out of your beard.”
He ripped the shower curtain closed and tossed his boxers over the rail at you, grumbling the whole time. You bagged up his dirty laundry and set some clean sweats on the counter in the bathroom before you set to work on cleaning the rest of the hotel room, doing your best not to gag at the week-old takeout containers.
Andy staggered out of the bathroom 30 minutes later, rubbing a towel through his hair as he wobbled on still drunk legs.
“How’s your stomach?” You asked, stretched out on the couch and sipping a glass of ginger ale.
“S’better.” He murmured, stumbling his way to the bed and collapsing on it with a groan.
“And your head?”
“Fuck you.” He murmured with his face buried in the pillows.
You grabbed the garbage can from the bathroom and set it next to the bed. “Make sure you sleep on your side or your stomach. I’ll be on the couch.” You turned to leave and he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.
“No, stay with me.” He mumbled, peeking up at you through those stupid long eyelashes, his damp hair drooping over his forehead.
“You’re still drunk, Andy.” You scolded, snatching your wrist away from him. You couldn’t deny you’d thought about it before, but there was no way you were going to let him make a move on you after the night he had. “I’m just 20 feet away, here to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit overnight.”
You turned back to find him passed out, a thin trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes and turned off the lights before collapsing on the couch in a huff.
Andy woke up to the smell of sausage and eggs as you slammed the hotel room door, carrying some takeout from the greasy spoon down the road.
“Shit, I was hoping to sneak out before you were up.” You murmured as he rose up off the bed, his bedhead a sight to behold. “I got you breakfast.”
“What happened last night?” He groaned, his stomach churning as he inhaled the smell of the food you had brought in.
“Well, you stole a bottle of Woodford Reserve from my bar, drank more than half of it, then fought Neal.” You shoved a plate of food in front of him as he sat down at the island. “Then I brought you back here and held your hair while you puked your guts out.”
“Fuck.” He murmured, fighting the urge to gag as he eyed the plate in front of him. “How did I get in these sweats?”
“Don’t worry, I dumped you in the shower in your boxers, no looks at the goods. And even if I had, last night was decidedly unsexy.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He murmured, burying his head in his hands.
“Mmhmm. Eat.” You ordered, making him groan. “Suck it up, Barber, you’ll feel better after a couple of bites.” You watched him shovel a bite in his mouth and chew dutifully, taking a deep breath as you steeled yourself for what you wanted to say. “Are you talking to anyone, Andy?”
“’M talking to you.” He said around his second mouthful off breakfast, starting to feel a bit better.
“I mean like a shrink.” You said, seriously.
“What the fuck is this?” He threw his fork down on his plate, pissed. This was none of your business.
“Andy, you’ve been drinking yourself stupid every night for the past 2 weeks. It’s not healthy, and I don’t want to be responsible for you ruining your life.”
He gave you a snort of derision and rolled his eyes as he stood up to walk away. “Fuck off.”
“Hey!” now you were angry. “I care about you asshole! You think I enjoyed last night? I’m sick of it!” You followed after him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around sharply.
“It’s not your problem, Y/N.” He seethed at you, ripping your hand off his shoulder as he took a menacing step towards you.
“You made it my problem when you decided to use my bar as the stage for your descent to rock bottom, dick!” You were yelling now. “Y’know what, fuck this. Figure your shit out Barber. Until then, don’t step foot in my bar.” You stormed out, slamming the door behind you as you slipped your coat back over your shoulders.
“Fuck!!” Andy screamed before charging after you.
He managed to catch up to you as you were about to open your car door and he slammed it shut over your shoulder, pinning you against the driver’s side of your vehicle.
“I swear to god, Andy, I’ll mace you.” You hissed at him, turning as you dug your hand in your bag. He wrapped a massive hand around your wrist, stopping your turn halfway.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured, pressing his forward to yours as he leaned against you. “I need you.”
“Andy…” this was such a bad idea.
“Why’d you stay last night?” He muttered, bringing his hand down to cup your cheek. “You said you care about me.”
“I do care, Andy.” You sighed as he took another step into you, pressing his body against yours. “Fuck, what’re you doing?”
“Stay.” He whispered, dipping his face to catch your lips with his and sending every objection you had right out of your head.
You sighed against him as you wrapped your hands in his hair, rolling your body against his. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip before pressing it against yours, his hands moving down to your hips and drawing you into him. You let out a whine as you felt his growing erection grinding against you.
“Shit.” You hissed as you felt a rush of arousal soak your panties. “Andy, we need to go back to the room.”
“Right.” He muttered, deepening your kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he lifted you off the ground as he drew you away from your car and started to head back towards the room, thankful he had left the door ajar.
You kicked the door closed as he carried you inside, giving a small huff when he sat down on the bed with you straddling his lap. You slipped your coat over your shoulders and tossed it aside as his mouth devoured yours, lips molding to each other as your tongues tangled.
Andy slipped his fingers under the hem of your tee and drew it over your head, throwing it on top of your jacket before unclasping the front of your lacy bra and nuzzling himself between your breasts. He rolled the two of you gently until he was on top of you.
You sighed as Andy moved his mouth over the slope of your breast to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, sucking softly as he moved one hand to dip beneath the waistline of your jeans. He groaned against your chest when he found you sopping wet for him.
“God, I need you, sweetheart.” He mumbled against your skin as he worked at unbuttoning your fly, dragging your jeans and panties down your legs and flinging them aside before bringing his hand back up to cup your heat. “Need to make you feel good. Lose myself in you for just a bit.” He moved his lips up to brush against your neck as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick over your mound and making you gasp, your fingers gripping his massive biceps tightly as he teased you.
“Andy, please.” You whined, canting your hips into his hand, your clit throbbing with need as the pads of his fingers brushed against it.
He brought his face up to yours as he plunged one thick finger into you, a smile teasing his lips as he watched your face screw up in bliss. He dipped his lips to meet yours as he added another finger, swallowing your small cry.
“You feel so good, beautiful. So warm and tight.” He scissored his fingers inside of you, drawing lewd squelches from your canal as your arousal soaked his hand. “Fuck me, you’re perfect.”
You scrabbled your hands over the broad muscles of his back as he curled his fingers inside you, massaging that soft, spongy muscle deep within your canal. He buried his face in your neck, murmuring soft praises as you came apart beneath him.
You mewled as he inserted a third finger, your cunt clenching around him as you thrust yourself onto his hand, fucking yourself on his digits.
“You close love?” He asked, his thumb brushing against your clit before he started massaging it gently. Pressing soft circles into your core as you writhed beneath him.
“Oh, fuck.” You muttered. “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck……”
He felt you tense underneath him when he drove his thumb into your clit, hard. You choked on your tongue as every muscle in your body vibrated with pleasure, your release gushing over Andy’s hand and soaking him to the wrist. He felt your nails digging through his sweatshirt as you came.
He kept his fingers moving inside you as your rode out your orgasm, your body rolling in waves underneath him as your pleasure wracked you, leaving you breathless. Once you sagged back against the bed, he withdrew them, disconnecting from you reluctantly to remove his own clothes. Staring down at you, all he wanted was to press himself against every inch of you. Claim every slope and curve of your body for his own.
He gripped one ankle and brought it up to his mouth, skimming his lips over the jut of bone as his fingers skirted over your calf, pressing into the firm muscle there. His lips followed his fingers, searing your skin with each lingering kiss and brush of his tongue as he worked his way further up your leg. Your cunt clenched around nothing when he reached your thigh, his beard scratching at the soft skin between your legs as he marked you with lips and teeth. You tangled your fingers in the blankets and moaned when he bypassed your core, moving up the line of your hip as he claimed you.
Your breath was coming quicker as worked his way over your body. His lips swept against your abdomen now, his tongue dipping into your navel as he nuzzled over the midline of your torso. All you could focus on was the feel of his mouth on your skin, leaving a trail of electricity as marked you as his. He laved his tongue over first one nipple, then the other as you arched into him, pressing your thighs together as your pussy throbbed with need.
He moved to trace the curves of your shoulders, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed his way down first one arm, then the other. You were panting now, your thighs soaked as arousal seeped out of you. Andy traced his fingers over your torso, skimming over the slopes of your breasts as he moved to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking gently to draw light bruises as his hands moved lower, kneading into your hips. He drew your knees apart slowly, slotting himself between your thighs as he dragged his hard length through your folds, making you keen as he ground into you.
You were a mess, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his hips rocked against you. You were desperate for release, every inch of you tingling with need and when Andy’s cock brushed against your clit, you lost it. You threw your head back in ecstasy as your fingers scrabbled in the sheets, desperate to hold onto something to keep you anchored.
Andy just stared at you, one massive palm cupping your cheek as he watched you falling apart. He needed you so much, you were the only constant he had. The only person who didn’t make him feel like a charity case or a failure. He hated what he was becoming, what the secrets and the tragedy were turning him into, but he knew if you stayed with him, he could come back.
“Y/N,” He whispered as you relaxed and he stilled his hips, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as you slowly opened your eyes, gazing up at him through your lust blown pupils. “Promise you won’t leave me.”
“Andy,” a small voice in the back of your mind was trying to warn you, telling you not to commit to anything now while he was still drowning in his grief. But you were overwhelmed with the pleasurable assault he had subjected you to and when he pressed his lips to yours again, that little voice went away. “I promise.” You gasped when he released you.
He grinned at you as he lined himself up, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed into your eyes. You were so wet that he slid into you easily, bottoming out right away with a hiss.
“Fuck, honey.” He murmured against your lips as you whined, his hips setting a languorous pace as he pulled out halfway before thrusting back into you. “God, you’re so tight, you feel amazing.”
You couldn’t reply, you could already feel another orgasm building as you thrust your hips to meet his, mewling softly as the warm coil in your stomach tightened. You ran your fingers over his auburn beard before burying them in his hair, panting into his mouth as he brought you closer to the edge.
Andy brought one hand between the two of you and strummed his thumb against your clit, making you tighten your fists in his hair until it was painful.
“God, Andy, right there.” You sobbed, your cunt clamping around him as he moved to bury his face in your neck, nuzzling against the hollow behind your ear.
“Go ahead, beautiful.” He scraped his teeth over the edge of your jaw as he drove his thumb against you, and you screamed.
You fluttered around him as your body spasmed, multiple waves of pleasure rippling through you. Your knees gripping around his hips and squeezing as your torso rolled against his. You sank back against the bed with a sigh as your body relaxed, Andy still fucking into you and starting to pick up speed.
“I’m gonna move you, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you and rolled until you were on top of him, pressing you against his chest as he kissed you deeply. “Wanna watch you ride me.”
You gave him a smile as you sat up, bracing your hands against his chest as you ground yourself against him. He was seated in you deeper than anyone had ever been, his cock dragging against that secret spot inside you with each drive of your hips, making you groan. He thrust up into you and groaned at the bounce of your tits while you let out a cry at his tip hitting your cervix.
Andy dug his fingers into your hips as he took over, pistoning up into with increasing speed as your cunt clamped around him. Your head rolled loosely on your shoulders as you let go, eyes fluttering as you felt another orgasm gathering.
You gripped his hips tightly with your thighs as it hit you like a truck, sobbing with pleasure while your muscles shivered over him. Andy sat up quick and caught you before you could collapse back on the bed, wrapping one hand around the back of your neck and catching you lips with his as his hips picked up even more speed.
“Shit.” He murmured against your lips. You felt his cock twitch inside you as his hips faltered in their rhythm. “Are you on the pill honey?”
You nodded vigorously, unable to speak as Andy’s violent thrusts had knocked all the breath out of your lungs and you were gasping.
“Good. Fuck.” He nipped at your lips before shoving his tongue down your throat.
You felt warmth spread through your abdomen as he shot his release into you, his thick spend coating the slick walls inside you and leaking out over your thighs as he fucked you through it. He slowed his thrusts as you felt him soften inside you, groaning into your mouth as he came down and collapsed back against the bed, holding you close to his chest.
His chest hair scratched against your cheek as he breathed deeply, trying to slow his heart rate back down and rubbing his fingers over your spine as you panted on top of him.
Neither of you spoke for a while, content to lie in the comfort of each other’s arms. You made Andy feel safe, and he made you feel needed, and that was all the two of required for now.
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Video Killed The Radio Star - Chapter 6 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Hello! I’m sorry for being so inactive, I just started up college again this semester and it’s been a long week and it’s only Wednesday. I think I might try to update Sunday every week starting next week so we will see how that works out!
Warnings: Soft mention of drugs once again, They are just talking again and things are being put in motion.
Plot: Spencer and you have conversations and make some plans. You have a certain kind of dream.
Word Count: 2.1K
Spencer could feel his cheeks grow warm, a grin creeping its way onto his face. There was the pesky idea of fate repeating in the back of his mind. Spencer suppressed the idea, not wanting it to ruin the moment. He was too busy zoning out, thinking about how easy the smile on his face appeared when he heard your voice, not noticing the growing silence over the line. “Spencer?” your voice called through the phone.
“Yes, I’m sorry, I’m here!” Spencer laughed quickly, clearing his throat nervously. “Why are you up?”
He heard you laughing over the phone, nervous knots twisting in his stomach. “Spencer, it’s seven o’clock.” You giggled, feeling lighter than you had all day. You heard him laugh nervously at himself as he muttered an embarrassment, “Right.”
Spencer licked his lips, “Why did you call?” he questioned, trying his best to relax on his couch.
You felt the weight in your chest replace the butterflies, swallowing hard. You had kept it all in, it was hard to pick the reason for your call. You took in a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “Things have just been piling up, and I feel like I need some help.” your fingers pinched the comforter between your thumb and index.
“What kind of things have been piling up?” Spencer asked, straightening as he listened.
You pinched the comforter tighter, jaw clenching down. You didn’t want to cry with Dr. Spencer Reid on the phone. Maybe it was because you hated feeling vulnerable. You tried your best to relax and remember that he wouldn’t judge you, he said to call if you needed anything, and you did. “I don’t want to say something stupid,”
“You won’t,”
“Well, it kind of started when I left the hospital. I had a dream, a memory, one night. I could feel her, she wasn’t there, because she’s dead! Then,” you let out a calming breath, “Then, I was in my mom’s kitchen, and I saw this pink light. I was back there, like in the room, I could feel it, smell it.” You shivered, overwhelming anxiety dawning on you.
You felt safe with Spencer, you couldn’t explain why you did, but you did. Was it because he was the first face you saw that day? Or because he had come to check up on you in the hospital?
Despite your overwhelming feeling of trust towards Spencer, you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in the back of your mind that told you he thought you were crazy. Clammy hands rubbed against your pajama pants in a desperate attempt to dry them.
Spencer wanted to spew statistics, say something about how many victims experience post-traumatic stress disorder, but he stopped himself. He wanted to dig deeper, he wanted you to know you weren’t alone. He cleared his throat, trying to sound calm. “I know what it’s like, to feel like they’re still around. It seems irrational to think that a dead person is around, that getting saved was all a dream, but I know what it’s like.”
Your heart rate slowed at his words, closing your eyes as you chuckled gently. “You just have to say that because you're my federal agent,” teasing him softly over the phone.
“Hey, that’s Doctor federal agent to you.” Spencer joked, a tiny chuckle building up in his throat. “I’m saying it because I know,” he ruffled his hair as he tried to think about what to say, falling back into a silent panic. He wasn’t used to talking to people about it, especially people that he didn’t know. He tried to recall his emotions, trying his hardest to remember. He wanted to be a beacon of light for you, something to follow, something to trust. He swallowed hard, “About two years ago, I was kidnapped,”
“Spencer,” your tone was so soft, so sweet, he felt his chest pound. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” You heard a gentle protest on the other line, shushing him. “Spencer, really, it already means the world to me that you gave me your number. You didn’t even have to pick up and yet, you did.”
Spencer hesitated, wanting to insist that he was fine with talking about it, to insist that it didn’t bother him, but he kept his mouth shut. He knew that it wasn’t something he was comfortable with talking about and you were right. He didn’t even know you, but here he was trying to convince you that you were safe. That you weren’t alone. “I’m sorry,”
“For what?”
Spencer grinned, feeling lame as he searched for an answer. After a few moments of silence, you spoke up again, “Spencer, I’m not working right now and I’m always alone,” you trailed off, your cheeks flaring, “Well, I was wondering if I could keep calling you. As long as you aren’t busy,”
You were waiting to hear Spencer’s calming voice reject you, but you could hear the excitement in his voice as he answered with an enthusiastic “Yes,”
You felt your chest tighten, “I’ll call you tomorrow at eight?”
“Eight sounds good,”
“Okay,”
“Okay,”
You quickly said a nervous goodbye, hanging up after hearing Spencer bid you farewell.
---
It was night, cool breezes blew through your hair, as you looked up with a smile. Your arms wrapped around his neck, large hands holding your hips. You ignored the excitement shooting down your spine, your body feeling nuclear under his touch, your emotions being the bomb and his touch was the impact. You felt so wonderfully warm if something touched you, you were sure it would heat up in a second.
You felt his hands move away, pulling at his neck for a thick scarf, wrapping it around your neck delicately, pulling you closer by the ends of it. He laughed, peppermint filling your senses, leaning down quickly. You caught a glance of hazel eyes before you woke up in your lonesome bed.
A pit formed in the bottom of your stomach as you push yourself up on your bed, blinking as you registered who you were just dreaming about. You let out a whisper of a desperate no, dramatically falling back down onto the bed with a groan. Your hands rubbed your eyelids, trying not to picture Spencer leaning down, trying not to remember how he smelt of peppermint. How did you even know that? You scolded yourself as you got up, throwing on some semi-appropriate clothes and heading for the door with your crutches.
You needed some air, you knew he was in your dreamland of romance because he was the last person you talked to last night. After the phone call, you spent the rest of the long night on your bed with a copy of The Picture Of Dorian Gray. Why couldn’t demonic Dorian Gray live in your dreamland? You limped into the coffee shop, holding back a giddy smile as you gave Spencer Reid’s lips one last thought.
You had spent the rest of your day, doing mindless tasks; you read, you cleaned, watched mindless television, anything to keep yourself distracted. Your mind kept drifting towards darker ends, today seemingly worse than the last. Your body yearning desperately for numbing bliss, a gentle reminder that despite all of your romantic dwellings you were still living in an unbearable existence.
You were about to endure another episode of staring up at the ceiling when there was a gentle knock at the door. You welcomed the distraction with a grin, hobbling as fast as you could, over to the door. You opened it to see a delivery woman smiling back at you as she handed you a tiny package, you signed for it quickly and politely shut the door. You sat at your kitchen table, opening the package with a tiny struggle.
It was free from all the tape now, but you couldn’t stop the sick feeling from eating at you. What if you had another stalker? How stupid were you to just bring a package into your house? After everything that had happened, you cursed yourself for your carelessness. You swallowed a quick gulp of air, opening up the package slowly. You let out the air with a tiny gasp, seeing a tiny card on the inside that read Spencer. The note was right next to a box of peppermint tea and a small copy of Oscar Wilde’s The Nightingale and the Rose.
You tried not to let it get to you as fire decorated your cheeks, you opened the note quickly, reading messy handwriting.
Y/N,
Since you said you were always alone, let this keep you company.
-Spencer
You bit the inside of your cheek, heart racing as your stomach filled with the fluttering wings of butterflies. Before you could let your mind go any farther, you suppressed them, choking the life out of beating wings in your stomach. It wasn’t fair to him, to Spencer. He was too good and you were here in your apartment, yearning for a drug to satisfy you. He didn’t need that. He shouldn’t have to fix you and he wasn’t going to be your coping mechanism.
You stood up, grabbing the peppermint tea, slipping it into the cabinet with a dramatic huff. On your way back to the couch you grabbed the book, sitting down and letting it do the job of keeping you company.
After a cup of peppermint tea, you called Spencer’s phone. You felt a very familiar lump grow in your throat as you heard the first ring. Despite being in the good company of a good book, you couldn’t stop thinking about Spencer. It seemed that thoughts of him kept you more company than anything Oscar Wilde could produce. You let yourself be convinced that he was just a friend, that he was just someone trying to help you get through a rough patch. He was just someone who understood.
Another ring. You squeezed your eyes tight, the sudden urge to hang up the phone was becoming slightly overwhelming. You were about to hang up the phone at the third ring, but then you heard a very breathless “Hello?”
Anxiety exited your system, warmth replacing the void effortlessly. “Hi,” you chuckled, hearing a heavy pant on the other end of the line, “Did I interrupt a workout routine?”
“No,” Spencer let out a breathy laugh, relaxing at the sound of your voice. It was a welcome distraction from his day, they didn’t have a case, it was just a long day. “I was just cleaning up,”
“Is the doctor dirty?” you questioned, the word choice setting in as your cheeks became a light pink, stuttering to fix your mistake. “I mean, messy! Are you messy?”
Spencer didn’t think the question was all that odd till he realized that it could have been taken out of context and then he let out a tiny chuckle, shaking his head slowly. “No, I’m not dirty, just cluttered,” he answered, a smile on his lips. “Did you get the package?”
“Yes,” Your voice rising in volume with excitement, “I did, it was perfect. Thank you so much.” A tiny piece of guilt slithering into your mind as you stole a glance over at the book next to you. You were about to speak when Spencer cut you off.
“I was just thinking about what you said last night and thought it would cheer you up,”
Your guilty thoughts came to a halt, a blush creeping its way towards your ears as you let out a gentle, “It did,”
“I’m glad it did,”
You let out a soft hum, trying to come up with something to say. You wanted to ask him how his day was, or ask him how he was feeling. But all of those questions seemed weak. You could’ve told him that you wanted to be friends, but your emotions decided for you. “Would you be alright with going out, like as friends?”
“As friends?”
“I would like us to go out as friends, yes.” your voice shook slightly with anxiety as you waited for his response.
Spencer couldn’t fight back the laugh bubbling in his chest, chuckling at how nervous you seemed. “I would love to,”
“Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know, you might think I’m weird or something?”
“Y/N,”
“Yes?”
“I would want nothing more than to go out with you, as a friend, that is.”
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer x you#spencer x y/n#spencer x reader#Spencer CM#spencer Reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#Spencer reid x reader#Spencer Reid fic#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds imagine#criminal#Criminal Minds#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#mgg#Matthew Gray Gubler#femreader#Dr Reid#dr spencer reid#Video Killed the radio star
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E3: The One with the Wedding//F.W.
Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU.
Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Ron x Lavender, Romione
Warnings: Language, mentions of food, drinking (legal), mentions of sex, nudity
Summary: As Hermione hustles to interrupt Ron and Lavender’s wedding in New York City, Fred and Y/N have a heart to heart which quickly turns into something much more.
Word Count: 4.8k
A/N: This may or may not be 9 days late (my b) but it’s the 5th and final fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley !! The FRIENDS series will continue!
Message me to join the FRIENDS taglist or my general taglist
-Episode 1- -Episode 2-
~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~
May 2004
Previously on FRIENDS
“Hey Luna?” Hermione called from her bedroom. She and her friend had spent the day discussing her feelings for Ron and trying their best to help her get over him. Apparently recounting the horrors of their relationship was not helping in the slightest.
“Yeah,” Luna called back from the kitchen.
“Do you remember where the pygmy puff food is?” Her muffled voice sounded rushed and anxious, even more so than Hermione usually was.
“Yeah, it’s under the front counter of Fred and George’s shop. Why?”
Luna turned her head to see Hermione come flying into the room dragging a packed suitcase behind her. “Because I’m going to New York.”
The pregnant girl nearly had a heart attack at Hermione’s declaration. “What? What do you mean you’re going to New York?”
Hermione grabbed a few more essentials from around the apartment, rushing in order to catch the next flight. “Yeah, I have to tell Ronald that I love him. Now Luna, you take care, you don’t have those babies until I get back.”
“I--but what about all of the finding his flaws and burning his picture rituals we’ve been doing?” Luna asked, straining to stand up and chase after her friend.
Hermione easily moved past the slow-moving girl, zipping up her bag and heading to the door. “Yeah, that didn’t work. I know he loves Lavender but I have to tell him how I feel! He deserves to have all of the information and then he can make an informed decision.”
Phoebe shook her head and continued to hobble around the room. “No, Hermione, it’s too late, you missed your chance! I’m sorry, I know this must be really hard, it’s over.”
The other girl paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Y’know what? No. It’s not over until someone says ‘I do.’” And with that she took off out of the apartment and to the streets of Diagon Alley, on her way to another country to declare her love for Ron Weasley.
------------------------------
“Would you look at this place,” George sighed in awe, staring around at the beautifully decorated dinner hall. There were chandeliers hanging everywhere and everyone was dressed in clothes that looked like they cost more than everything the Weasleys owned combined. Fred and George twisted uncomfortably in their mediocre suits. Sure, they were successful businessmen with some money to spare, but they could never compete with this.
“Holy shit,” you said, coming up behind the twins. They turned around, startled to see you suddenly appear. Fred took a second to look you up and down, mouth hanging slightly open in surprise.
“Holy shit is right, Y/N,” he said. “You look bloody amazing!” You glanced down at your outfit, a slim fitting long dress that hugged your form perfectly. You smiled and did a little twirl for the boys who whooped and whistled at you.
“While I appreciate the compliment,” you said, “I was talking about the hall. How rich is Lavender’s family anyway?”
Fred shrugged. “Apparently loaded. I mean, it’s not like our family could ever compete with this. How Ron was able to pull someone this high up is a mystery to me.”
He and George picked at their clothes self consciously, trying to straighten their ties and smooth out their suits.
“Oh come now,” you said, “you two are perfectly successful. Who cares if the Browns could afford to buy all of London if they wanted to? Let’s just enjoy the night and eat all of the expensive food they bought!”
“Y/N, you’re my dream girl,” Fred said, putting his arm around your waist. “If you ever want to marry a Weasley, I’d be happy to oblige.”
“I appreciate the offer, Weasley, but I do think George and I would be a couple to be reckoned with.”
“Ha! Suck it Fred, I get Y/N and you’re stuck alone,” George said, kissing your cheek and stealing you away from his brother.
Fred was about to reply when a loud voice echoed through the room and everyone turned to see a short red haired woman come hurtling through the door.
“Mum!” cried Ron from across the room. He grabbed Lavender’s hand and they made their way over where you and the twins were standing, now accompanied by the latest arrivals, Molly and Arthur Weasley.
“Sweetheart!” Molly squealed, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh sorry we’re late, Muggle transportation is such a hassle, especially in this country. Your father spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to call a taxi and he wouldn’t stop asking the driver everything you could ask!”
“I still never got an answer to my rubber duck question,” Arthur grumbled before a warm smile appeared on his face. “Hello, Lavender, it’s lovely to see you again.”
“You as well!” she said before hugging Arthur and then Molly. “Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, here come my parents.”
Sure enough, two very wealthy looking people were walking over to join their daughter and future son in law.
“Hello, hello,” said Lavender’s father, shaking the hands of the Weasleys. “How do you do? Very nice to meet all of you.” He glanced over at his wife. “Darling, it’s the Weasleys.”
“Sorry, what?,” she said, finally looking up at the family, a hint of distaste in her gaze. “Oh, lovely to meet you.” Her snobby look never faltered, making the rest of the Weasley clan even more uncomfortable.
Arthur cleared his throat. “It’s great to meet you both. I’m sorry we couldn’t help pay for much of the wedding, but we hope that we can at least cover the cost of dinner tonight.”
“Yes of course,” said Molly. “We know how expensive weddings can be, besides this may be the last time I watch one of my sons get married.”
Fred and George rolled their eyes at their mother, who wouldn’t stop pestering them to settle down since Bill, Percy, and now Ron were all either married or close to it.
“We’ve heard the complaints, mum,” said Fred.
“But hey, at least we’re saving you money!” George said.
“And not giving me grandchildren,” she mumbled, but loud enough for everyone to hear.
You decided to jump in and defend your friends. “At least you’ve still got other kids who are starting their own families, Molly. And besides, do you really want to have these two bring little Fred’s and George’s into the world?”
Molly smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. “I suppose you’re right dear. They were, and still are, quite a handful.”
“Hey!” they both shouted, clearly offended.
You giggled and wandered off with Molly, telling her the latest stories of the many troubles the twins had gotten into.
------------------------------
Hermione, never one for athletics, was suddenly an Olympic sprinter, flying down the halls of the London airport. She reached the ticket counter, cutting off some very angry travelers, and threw her bags onto the scale.
After a few long seconds of leaning over and catching her breath, she finally muttered a “hi” to the ticket agent.
“Hello,” she replied cheerfully.
“Oh, umm, hello!” Hermione replied, mirroring the chipperness of the agent. “When is your next flight to New York City?”
“There’s one leaving in 30 minutes,” she replied.
“Oh, thank Godric,” she muttered, earning herself a few odd looks from passersby at her unique choice of language.
The woman behind the counter typed a few things into her computer. “The last minute fare on this ticket is twenty seven hundred dollars.”
Hermione reached around in her purse, fumbling with gold and silver coins. “How about galleons?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Nevermind,” Hermione sighed, sprinting off again to apparate to Diagon Alley and exchange her galleons for Muggle money. There was no way she was going to miss this flight.
------------------------------
“I’d like to make a toast!” Fred announced, standing up from his table with a wine glass in hand. “Ron and Lavender. Of course, my big toast will be tomorrow at the wedding, so this is kind of my little toast or Melba toast, if you will.”
He was only met with silence and you and George very visibly facepalmed.
“Okay…” he continued hesitantly. “I’ve known Ron for a long time. His whole life, actually. See I got the first two years of my life without my baby brother, but nope he’s always had me, and I know he’s so incredibly grateful for that.”
When once again there was no reaction, Fred decided it was time to up the performance.
“I remember when Ron was going out with his first girlfriend. And I thought things were going to work out for him. Until the day he over inflated her!” Fred winked at his little brother, whose face was redder than his hair. For the third time in the last minute Fred did not get anywhere close to the reaction he had expected. “Oh dear Godric…”
“How about I take over for you, Freddie.” George said, taking the microphone from his slightly older brother. “Everyone knows I am the more charming twin, isn’t that right?” He was met with some soft giggles and a whoop from one of the bridesmaids sitting a few tables away. Fred begrudgingly plopped down into his seat, leaning his head on your shoulder as he pouted for the rest of the dinner.
As everyone finished their speeches, you giving one about your friendship with Ron that even brought Molly to tears, you found yourself sprawled out on a fancy couch still consoling Fred.
“I was laughing,” you said while patting him on the knee.
“Out loud?” he asked, crossing his arms and shoving your hand away.
You looked down at your wine glass guiltily. “Well I didn’t want everyone to think I was stupid.” Fred groaned and buried his face in his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration that you knew went deeper than a few poor jokes. “Hey, how are you doing?”
He looked up at you questioningly, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t try to hide it from me, Freddie, I can tell when something’s bothering you, and I know it’s not just that your jokes sucked arse.”
“No, the audience sucked arse, I’m fucking hilarious.” You kicked him lightly, urging him to tell you. With a long sigh Fred sat up and turned to face you, his big brown eyes void of their usual cheerful gleam. “Mum’s driving me crazy! I mean, I get it, she wants me to get married and settle down and have kids, but she has 6 other children, two of them with kids of their own already! I don’t know, this whole wedding thing has just put a lot more pressure on me, that’s all.”
You tenderly rubbed his shoulder, feeling him relax slightly at your touch. “Don’t listen to her, ok? Marriage isn’t for everyone. Same with kids. You’re independent and carefree, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to settle down if you don’t want to.”
He mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to hear. “What?”
“I said…” he began slowly, “I said that it’s not that. It’s the complete opposite actually.”
Fred glanced across the room at his youngest brother holding hands with his fiancée and whispering something into her ear. “It’s just...he’s my younger brother. He’s Ron, for Merlin’s sake! How did Ron get a girl before me?”
“Aww, is Freddie jealous of his little brother?” you teased, knocking your shoulder into his. When he didn’t answer you tried to sober up, not used to seeing this side of Fred.
“I’m 26, Y/N,” he cried out. “And I know that’s not old or anything, but I just figured I’d have my life together by now. Maybe a long term girlfriend, or even--” he paused for a moment, continuing to watch Ron and Lavender. “--or maybe it would’ve been me walking down the aisle with someone I love.”
“Come here, love,” you cooed as you pulled Fred into your chest. “You know there’s no rush. Sure Ron’s getting married, but I think he found himself the only person in the world who’d ever date him and he had to tie her down quick.”
Fred shuddered into your chest with a small laugh, bringing his hands up to aimlessly play with your hair. “Yeah,” he said, “and we all know that the girls are lined up just waiting for me. I guess I’ve got time.”
“Exactly. And plenty of it.” Fred continued to play with your hair as you did the same with his, occasionally scratching at his scalp and listening to the quiet whimpers he would let out.
He shifted so he was looking up at you, mere inches away from your face. “Y’know, you’ve been acting strange lately too. What’s bugging you?”
“It’s nothing Freddie, I--”
“Uh uh.” He shook his head. “I poured my heart and soul out to you, the least you could do is do the same to me.”
Sighing, you checked around you to make sure no one would be able to overhear. “Promise you won’t tell Ron? I don’t want it to make anything weird in our relationship.”
Fred snapped his head between you and his younger brother, eyes growing wide as he jumped to the nearest possible answer. “You’re bloody in love with him, aren’t you?!”
“What?” you asked, laughing at the ridiculous accusation. “No! Oh, no no no, not at all! I’ve known him since we were 11, and trust me, watching young Ronnie throw up slugs will turn anyone off of him.”
Fred smiled down at you and breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you weren’t getting your heart broken by being at the wedding. “So what is it then? Promise I won’t tell, swear on George’s life.”
You rolled your eyes but snuggled up next to him, feeling much more comfortable with your best friend as close as possible. “Fine. You’re not the only one having to deal with parent problems. Like I said I’ve been friends with Ron since my family first found out I was a witch. My parents, being Muggles, immediately fell in love with your family, and Ron as well whenever he would come to visit over the summer. My mum has this whacked out idea that it should be me that’s marrying him tonight. She’s so disappointed, told me I’m passing up the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But he’s just Ron! I could never see him like that. He’s like a brother to me.”
Fred sat silently throughout your whole rant, rubbing small circles over your knuckles with his thumb. When it seemed you had finally finished, Fred had no idea what to say. He had never been the comforting sort and had always managed to make it worse. As he did this time as well.
“Do you see me like that too?”
You looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, trying to understand how he decided on that as a response.
“As a brother, I mean.” He stuttered through his words. “Am I just another brother to you?”
“‘Course you are, Freddie. I love you like family.” He gazed at you lovingly, wondering what he had done to have a friend like you in his life.
“How about this then?” he asked. “How about, since your mom wants you to marry a Weasley, if by the time we’re both 40 and still single, why don’t we marry each other?”
He looked so sweet offering this to you, so kind and thoughtful. You knew that the deal would benefit him as well, but to you it felt like he was doing this only for you. And you knew he would do anything for you.
“I appreciate the offer, but I actually only promised George the same thing,” you said, making Fred’s jaw drop and a scowl appear on his face.
“George! My own bloody twin? How could you, Y/N? I revoke my proposal.”
“I’m practically in tears,” you said stoically. Deciding it was time to go out and mingle instead of throwing yourselves a pity party, you grabbed Fred’s hand and made your way over to find George, only to be stopped by a very obviously drunk man.
He put a hand on your shoulder which made both you and Fred tense up. “I just want to say,” he said through slurred speech, “that Ron is a wonderful young man.”
Fred eased his grip on your hand a little bit, sensing that this man wasn’t going to do anything to you. You gave him a thankful look before turning your attention back to the hammered American. “Well thanks, we like him.”
The man stepped closer to examine your face, his booze breath going straight up your nose. It took all you had not to throw up because of it.
“My God!” he exclaimed, “you two must’ve been teenagers when you had him!”
You and Fred both stared straight ahead, insecurities and doubts increasing tenfold at the misunderstanding. You gritted your teeth and held back from slapping the man, who luckily made his way to another table to insult someone else.
Fred turned you to face him and gripped your shoulders tight, leaning down so he was eye to eye with you. “The guy was hammered, okay? There’s no way that you look like Ron’s mum. Nor I his dad for that matter!”
“Then why would he say it?” you grumbled, pushing Fred away from you and going to get rid of your sadness by gorging on some food.
“Because he’s crazy!”
“Oh, my mother’s right. I’m never going to get married.”
“Ahh, you know what?” Fred touched the small of your back softly, turning you around to face him, his breath growing heavy in exasperation. “This is...who wouldn’t want you?”
------------------------------
The next morning, the biggest day of Ron’s life, he was racing down the hallways practically bouncing off the walls. He was getting married. After a failed relationship with Padma years before, Ron had finally been able to heal and pour his love onto someone else. Lavender Brown.
Sure, the relationship had moved fast. Really fast, actually. They had only been together for a few months before Ron popped the question, to which a very ecstatic Lavender happily agreed. He knew it was unorthodox. He knew it was impulsive. But he didn’t care. Because someone loved him.
He shot through the door of Fred and George’s hotel room, making Fred jolt awake with a start.
“I’m getting married today!” he screamed. “Whoo-hoo!”
Fred scrambled around in the bed sheets for a few seconds before scowling at his brother. “Morning, Ron.”
“I’m getting married. To-day!” he said, ignoring the annoyed looks Fred was shooting him.
Relaxing a little Fred smiled. “Yeah you are!”
Ron jumped around and sprinted out of the room, screaming as he ran down the hall to announce his feelings to all of the other hotel guests.
The bed in which Fred was sleeping shifted once again, but it wasn’t Fred’s doing. You shot up from under his covers, holding the blankets to cover your naked chest and panting heavily in worry. “Do you think he knew I was here?”
Fred slowly shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with you. He shifted in the bed, his leg accidentally brushing yours. You yelped and he quickly moved away, apologizing profusely.
After a long awkward silence, Fred finally spoke. “Well, I’ve--I’ve never done that with you before.”
“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’ and sinking down further into the bed, trying to disappear.
“So, ahh, how are you?” he said slowly. “You okay?”
You nodded, clutching the sheets so hard that your knuckles were turning white. “Yep, yep. You?”
“Yes, yes, uh huh. You?” The two of you finally made eye contact, faces equal shades of vermillion. “We did you. I did you. I--umm, sorry not the time.”
It got quiet once again. You let out a long breath, wondering how you were supposed to move on from sleeping with your best friend. You wanted to blame the alcohol from last night, but neither of you were drunk. You’d only had one glass of wine, just enough to make you a little more confident than normal. Apparently that was enough to do the trick.
“Well… I’d better get going,” you told him, starting to sit up before remembering you and Fred were both naked under the sheets.
“Oh, yea yea, absolutely,” he stammered, gesturing for you to leave.
“Could you not look, please?”
“I don’t want to look.” Fred covered his eyes, not even pretending to peak through them. It was uncomfortable enough as it is, he really didn’t want to be joking around at the moment.
You slowly slid off the bed, taking a moment to let what had happened last night fully sink in. Had you ruined your friendship with Fred? Was it going to be this weird from now on? You hustled to grab your clothes from yesterday, ready to complete the infamous walk of shame. Thankfully, your room was just down the hall so any chances of you being caught were slim. All you had to do was put on a happy face for the wedding, pretend to enjoy yourself, and forget any of this ever happened. Yeah, that would work. Right?
------------------------------
Lavender’s eyes went wide as she took in the scene around her. The wedding hall was absolutely gorgeous, decorated in elegant fairy lights and flowers hanging from baskets on the ceiling. It was like she was a princess in her own personal fairy tale.
She spun around in her wedding dress, not even caring about the weird looks some of her parents’ friends were giving her. She never cared for them, or the family status, anyway. She just wanted to live her life as her own person, taking each step with someone she loved holding her hand.
“Hey.” Lavender was interrupted by the voice of her lover, standing bashfully a few feet away with his hands in his pockets.
“Ron!” she chastised playfully. “You’re not supposed to see me in my wedding dress, it’s bad luck!”
“I think we’ve had all the bad luck we’re going to have.” Lavender grinned and jumped into Ron’s arms, giggling as he swung her around. He finally put her down kissing the top of her head as he did so. “I’ll see you in a few hours, when you’re finally mine forever.”
“It can’t come soon enough.” The brunette was then distracted by Parvati calling her name, so she bid Ron goodbye and skipped over to her maid of honor.
She didn’t notice the unexpected guest standing at the end of the aisle, listening to their entire conversation. Or maybe if she did, she chose to ignore it. After all, her and Ron’s bad luck was over. She was finally getting the one thing she wanted most in life. To be loved.
Ron stared longingly at the girl he loved so deeply talk to her best friend, before the same unexpected guest that Lavender hadn’t noticed caught his eye. “Oh Merlin, Hermione!”
He ran up to her and kissed her on the cheek, ecstatic that his friend had decided to come to New York for his wedding. “You’re here. I can’t believe it! What happened? Why are you here?”
Hermione took a quick glance over at where Lavender was standing. She had seen everything. Heard it all. She knew how much they both cared for each other, and who was she to stand in the way of their love? She had missed her chance with Ron, but Lavender hadn’t.
“Well I just came…” She touched his chest right near his heart, tears threatening to spill. “I just needed to tell you…”
She couldn’t do it. It wasn’t fair to either of them. Hermione took a deep breath and put on a fake smile. “Congratulations.”
Ron grabbed her tightly and hugged her with all of his strength, tears of joy pooling in his eyes. Tears continued to grow in Hermione's, but for completely different reasons. Today was the day everything changed. Today her chance was gone. Forever.
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If the chapel was beautiful before, it was even more extravagant with all of the lights lit up and the band playing soft, romantic music. Any normal day you would’ve enjoyed the site, wishing that someday you could have a wedding just like this. But unfortunately the only thing on your mind was the events of the previous night.
“Ready?” George whispered to you, getting ready to walk one of the other bridesmaids down the aisle. He could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to push you. You nodded your head, sending your friend a thumbs up before it was his turn to make his walk.
“Ready?” asked a nearly identical voice to the one before. Fred stood behind you, his hair styled for once and his clothes neatly pressed and cleaned. He did clean up well, you had to admit. But, not that you would ever say this to anyone, you quite liked it better when he wasn’t wearing anything at all.
“I’m ready.” He linked his arm in yours, guiding you slowly down the dimly lit aisle.
Fred couldn’t help but steal a few glances at you. Your eyes were focused straight ahead, refusing to look at anything except the alter at the end of the walk. If you just made it to the end of the walk, everything would be ok. Everything would be over. But maybe Fred didn’t want everything to be over, just not yet. He sucked in a breath and decided to take a chance.
“What he did last night,” he whispered, slowing down as to elongate the conversation as much as possible.
“Stupid,” you muttered.
“Totally crazy stupid!” Fred got a few rude glances at his loud volume, so he checked himself before continuing. “I...I’m coming over tonight though, right?”
Your breath hitched in your chest. You were so close to the end of the aisle. You could ignore him and ignore whatever was going on between the two of you. It could all go back to normal, just a few more steps.
But your heart took over, and you said something that you knew future you might regret, but you didn’t care. It was worth the risk.
“Oh yeah, definitely.”
Fred squeezed your arm as you made your last steps to the front of the chapel, separating and taking your places in the rows of wedding participants.
You scanned the crowd, seeing Hermione fidgeting nervously in her seat. You felt awful for what she must be going through, but proud that she decided to accept it. Hermione was tough, that was for sure. She could handle anything.
“Friends. Family. We are gathered to celebrate here today the joyous union of Ron and Lavender. May the happiness we share with them today be with them always. Now Lavender, repeat after me. I, Lavender.”
“I, Lavender,” she said with a grin so big it looked like it would jump right off her face.
“Take thee Ron,” the minister continued.
“Take thee Ron.”
“As my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.”
“As my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.”
She giggled and squeezed Ron’s hands tighter, mere seconds away from being united with the one she loved oh so much.
“Now Ron,” said the minister, turning to the groom. “Repeat after me. I Ron…”
George winked at him and Fred gestured for him to speak. No matter how much they teased their little brother, they were so proud of him for finding someone to spend the rest of his life with. “I Ron…”
“Take thee, Lavender…”
“Take thee, Hermione…”
Gasps filled the room. You covered your mouth and looked out to the crowd at Hermione, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. Fred and George started whispering frantically to each other and Molly seemed as if she was about to either faint or slap Ron into another country.
But nothing compared to Lavender’s reaction. She stood there, frozen, hands going numb in the grip of the person she thought loved her. The one who only thought of her. The one who chose her.
“Lavender!” Ron corrected, nervously chuckling in order to hide the growing humiliation. “Lavender.”
The minister looked between the bride and groom, having no idea where to go from there. “Uhh...shall I go on?”
Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off of Ron. He had just said her name. Her name. Not Lavender’s. Hers.
What was supposed to happen next?
Tag List: @fandomhideout @amourtentiaa
#abby’s week of weasley#fredweasley#fred#friends#fred weasley x reader#george weasley#hermione granger#ron weasley#fredweasleyfluff#harrypotter#fred weasley x y/n#fred x y/n#weasleys wizard wheezes#fredweasleyseries#fredweasleyimagine
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Golden Nights: Part 8
Warnings: swearing, masturbation mentioned, sexual thoughts by both Bakugo and Y/N, Me writing embarrassing Y/N, Kirishima being an ass
⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+⚠️
Word count: 2098
You woke up the next morning with a throbbing pain in your knee. Nibblet was staring at you from the coffee table as he slowly blinked his eyes.
You reach for you phone but can't find it. "Shit" you say silently as you shift off the couch throwing the blanket to the floor. You hobble to the kitchen hoping you have some pain reliever somewhere. You found some, take two and down a glass of water. You look at the time.
"Holy shit it's 2pm!"
You gasp as you turn quickly feeling a sharp pain in your knee. "Why didn't you I wake me up asshole" you stare at Nibblet. He never let you sleep. Not this late! You look on the counter to find your phone and keys.
Wait how did you door lock if your keys were still inside? You begin to panic checking the bedroom making sure nobody was there. You saunter over to your phone and unlock it.
Taya: Babes text me when you get up! I bought your phone back last night and gave it to Dynamight. He asked me to lock your door before I left
Thank god you think to yourself. You slowly move to the bathroom grabbing onto whatever you can to help you maneuver through your apartment. You take off the wrap and notice your knee. It's swollen, black and blue. It hurts like a bitch but at least it's not broken. You noticed a few scrapes on your hand from the floor but nothing major.
You quickly took a shower, doing your best to not put pressure on your knee. You decided to wear your light grey shorts with your "Property of Dynamight" t shirt. It was limited edition and you stood in line 4 hours to secure one. It was your favorite shirt and showed. You brushed your hair and threw it into French braids. You figured you could wash it another day when you were properly able to stand. You make your way to your couch and turn on the TV. You don't watch much TV normally, just checking local news and watching am occasional travel show. Soon you hear your phone ring.
"Hello" you answer.
"Babes! How are you? Are you feeling OK? How is your knee?" Tony ran through the questions faster than a lightening around of jeopardy.
"Hi Tony. I'm ok. A little sore but nothing a couple days of rest can't fix" you sigh as you await his response.
"A couple days? Try a week babes. That's how long I'm banning you from the club" Tony said pleasantly.
"Tony really Im fine, please! I need to work!" You sob as Tony signs.
"I'm sorry Y/N but you were hurt here. I need you to take sometime off. I need my top doll in top form" Tony says encouragingly through the phone.
You sign knowing you wouldn't win. You disconnect the phone without even a goodbye and begin the sulk.
"Well what the fuck do I do with an entire week off?" You sign.
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Bakugo rolled over checking his phone.
2:30pm.
Shit, had he really slept that long. He looked next to his phone as he saw your note. He smiled to himself wondering how you were doing. He didn't want to bother you but at the same time, he was concerned. He spent his drive home replaying the events that happened at the club.
Why had he acted like that?
He acted like you were his to protect. Not that he shouldn't have protected you but he was furious. He let his emotions get the best of him. He felt vulnerable with you and it scared him. He had never felt this way about another person. Sure he cared and loved others, his friend and family, but you, you were different. He signed looking at the note.
Maybe it's best if I let her reach out to me he thought. Hell he didn't even know if you had a boyfriend! Surely if you did you would have said something? What if you were just being kind? "Fuck" he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. Im just going to wait. Yep I'll wait.
Waiting was such a bad idea. Bakugo couldn't think straight. His days off had been wasted worrying about you. Sure he could have texted you but you could have texted him too right? Fuck this is why he doesn't do relationships. Too many uncertainties. Well at least they wouldn't have to go back to that nightclub. His night patrols were done for another month thankfully and he could work the day shift for a few weeks.
He drove his car to his agency and got out. He walked in greeting his secretary with a nod.
"Oh sir, you have an appointment waiting in your office" she said "they called this morning early and requested to meet with you".
An appointment? Who the fuck could it be? It couldn't be the commission, nope his reviews were just finished. It wasn't an officer. The officers usually made the heros come to them. He reached for his door, opening it slowly. His eyes widened.
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You spent Sunday and Monday resting. By Tuesday, you were over it. The swelling had gone down thankfully and just a bruise remained. Your knee still hurt but not as bad as the previous days. You did light stretching, practicing basic moves to stretch your legs out. You wanted to text Katsuki but what would you say?
Hi it's me Y/N, the dumbass you saved from despair at the club the other night you thought rolling your eyes.
"Ugh this is why I don't bother with relationships Nibblet" you shout as you throw your phone on the couch. Then, it hit you.
YOU NEVER THANKED KATSUKI FOR HELPING YOU.
Oh my God how dumb am I? You feel asleep while a man was in your apartment and then you don't even say thank you? Fucking hell Y/N! You beat your head with your fist.
I guess I could text him you think. Nah too impersonal. You decided you needed to thank him in person. Tuesday morning came as you got ready for your appointment with Katsuki. You hoped you weren't intruding in any way but you felt the overwhelming urge thank him in person. You put on a light blue cropped sweater with a black miniskirt and black flats. Your hair is half down, half up in a top knot.
Cute you think as your stare into the mirror looking at your banged up knee. You call for a cab and get in. You arrive downtown at Katsuki's agency. You walk in taking the elevator to the 11th floor. You are greeted with a smile by a beautiful receptionist. She already knows your name and proceeds to direct you to Katsuki's office. "He'll be her soon sweetheart can I get you anything while you wait?" She smiles.
"Oh no thank you very much" you smile as she walks outside. You look around Katsuki's office, noticing all his awards and achievements. The man was amazing you had no doubts about that. Soon you hear the receptionists voice talking to a man. You turn as you hear the door open.
Bakugo doesn't know what to do. He just stares.
"Umm hi, I'm so sorry I'm late, I hope I didn't keep you" he smiles scratching the back of his neck.
"Oh no not at all! I'm sorry for dropping in so suddenly" you smile.
God you look amazing. Your outfit is perfection on your body and smile lights up his office.
"It looks like your knee is better?" Katsuki says as he points to your knee.
"Oh gosh yes! Tony gave me the week off to relax but I'm not very good at 'relaxing' so here I am" you laughed.
"Actually I wanted to thank you for the other night. You saved me" you trail off looking at the floor "I'm usually not a scared person but in that moment I felt true fear. I dont know what I would have done if you hadn't st-"
Bakugo cuts you off "Y/N listen to me, please don't thank me for doing something that I should be doing. You were in danger and needed help. I'm not going to let some scum bag disrespect my-" he freezes "I mean you". He catches his breath.
He almost said "my girl" oh shit shit shit!
You smile looking at the floor. "Listen I'd like to say thank you properly. Could I treat you to lunch perhaps?" You look up from the floor directly into his eyes.
His cock twitches. Fuck baby you look so innocent he says in his mind. He can't help but stutter.
"Y/N I'd love to however I insist on paying" he looks to you with a smirk.
"No! Please let m-" you start to speak as Bakugou walks in front of you.
" I insist Y/N" you freeze.
Your heart is in your throat.
Oh my god hes right in your face! Stay calm, cool and collected. Remember your Y/N you need to stay calm. Fuck that you can't stay calm!
"Oh sure, if you insist..." you say meekly.
"Good girl" he says turning away.
WHAT IN THE FUCK DID HE JUST SAY??
Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you can still feel it.
Break my back please sir I beg you think to yourself as you struggle to speak.
He goes to sit in his chair "but instead of lunch, let's make it dinner. Tonight" Bakugo says.
Where is this courage coming from? Wherever it came from he's running with it.
"Dinner? Tonight?" You gasp.
Wait is this a date? Do the number 2 pro hero Dynamight just ask you in a fucking date?
Bakugou laughs "yes dinner. Tonight. Unless your busy?" He looks questioningly at you.
"Nope no plans" you practically scream at him.
Fuck smooth it over Y/N, chill out.
He smiles, you melt. "Ok well how about I pick you up at 7? I know a nice restaurant we can go to" he's staring straight into your eyes at this point.
There is no avoiding this. "Sounds amazing! I'll see you tonight" you say as you turn walking straight into his office door.
Smooth Y/N, real smooth
"Sorry who put that there?" You chuckle awkwardly as you rush out of the room. You bid the receptionist fair well as you run to the elevator.
God you are so embarrassing!
Bakugou can't stop smiling. He sits down after you left and signs.
"Fuck yeah" he screams a little too loud as he hears a knock on his door.
His receptionist walks in "you did good boss, she's gorgeous" she winks as she sets a case file on his desk. He smiles and begins to work through the case file for the drug bust.
He can't figure it out. Someone is moving the quirk enhancers underground, he knows that much but where are they being distributed? There has to be a centralized location. He continues to search the files over and over. He can't find any clues. He looks at the clock. 4pm already? Damn today was flying. He hoped the flying wouldn't extend to your date tonight. He wondered what you would wear. You looked amazing in anything so it wasn't really an issue. But he sure as fuck hoped you'd wear a dress. He began to imagine your gorgeous body pressed up against his as he stroked your thigh. God the thought was making him hard.
Every night since he first met you, he went home an masturbated. He couldn't help himself. Your body, your face, that smile, that fucking laugh. God it turned him on so much. His thoughts drifted as he startles from his chair.
Clearing his throat, he says "yeah come in". In walks Kirishima with a shit eating grin.
"You know I just heard the most INTERESTING gossip" he says placing his hands on Bakugo's desk and tiltling his head to the side. Bakugo scuffs. "Ok and? You know I don't care for that Ei" Bakugo states matter of factly.
"I heard a certain grumpy gills had a date tonight" Kirishima sings.
"IM GOING TO KILL YOU" he screams as laughter erupts from his receptionist and Kirishimia.
"Oh knock it off man. We are fucking happy for you. And you should know by now I can't just not say anything" Kirishima laughs as he walks out from Bakugo's office.
Bakugo groans "what in the fuck am I doing?"
#bakugo katuski#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#my hero acadamy#my hero academy fanfiction#anime#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x y/n#bnha bakugou#pro hero dynamight#pro hero bakugou#goldennights#my hero academia
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Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.2
hell is empty, and all the devils are here
Chapter One
This is the second chapter in my new ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.
Last Chapter: Spencer's disordered and depressed thoughts were introduced, he was shot, Foyet stabbed Hotch, and Spencer ended up alone in his apartment :(
In This Chapter: we get to see Hotch's view of the events of early season five.
TW: aftermath of violence, recovery, spousal death, grief/mourning
Word Count: 3.4k
RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3
AARON
All but mariners plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, then all afire with me: [he] cried, 'Hell is empty and all the devils are here.' — William Shakespeare, The Tempest
The team is working on the case.
Aaron tries desperately to remember this when the fear starts to rise in his chest again, squashing his lungs and pressing violently against his already groaning heart. The team is working on the case, they always solve the case, and he trusts them with his life because, at the end of the day, that’s what’s at stake here, isn’t it? Haley and Jack are all he has in this world; he absolutely cannot lose them.
The team is working on the case.
Frustration builds as he lays in a hospital bed, completely incapacitated during the most important case of his life, and it’s only made worse by the knowledge that Spencer is hurt, too. He was absolutely furious when he eventually found out after asking his whereabouts on his third day of hospitalisation, having realised he hadn’t seen him once at the hospital.
Rossi had deliberately omitted Spencer being shot from his account of the case. Why, he had no idea. Did he not think it important that one of their own was seriously injured? Aaron hopes not. Did he think he was unable to handle the information at that point? Certainly more probable, but still infuriating.
It was all exacerbated by the guilty expression on JJ’s face when he asked who’d been visiting him. She’d told him that there hadn’t been time, that they were working on the case 24/7, that Penelope had heard from him and he was fine, but it wasn't enough to satiate his rising anger. Aaron doesn’t quite understand the blistering fury he still feels when he thinks about Spencer injured and alone, abandoned by his team, but he expects it’s because he still feels protective over the youngest member of the team.
That’s almost definitely it.
He takes a month off from work, but he has no idea what to do with himself, especially once he's discharged from hospital and returns to a lonely apartment in which he was brutally attacked by the FBI’s Most Wanted Serial Killer. He’s miserable without seeing Jack regularly and fearful of the length of time he’ll have to wait until he can see him and Haley again as he tries desperately not to think of the possibility that he may never see them again.
A lot of time is spent touring his DVD and box set collections and passing the time by cooking and exercising as much as his healing body will allow him. Every functional moment, every spare shred of brain power he has to spend, though, is directed at the Foyet case.
Finding Nemo is playing on the TV when there’s a knock at the door a week into his stay at home — admittedly, his collection is not all that large and he’d exhausted the more age-appropriate films far too quickly — so he turns it off and peels his exhausted bones off the couch. Most of the team have dropped by at various points, bringing food and gifts and comfort in the worst time of his life, so he’s expecting Emily or Rossi or JJ, but instead, it’s Spencer standing on his doorstep.
He doesn’t have the time to school his expression so his surprise is written all over his face, and Spencer must see it because he immediately cringes and deflates, as though suddenly doubting whether showing up out of the blue was a good idea after all.
“Hi.” Aaron smiles welcomingly to try and counter the negative thoughts that are almost certainly worming their way into Spencer’s mind. “Come in.” He steps aside and allows him to hobble awkwardly into the living room, his crutches dragging slightly along the carpet, the telltale sign of someone not quite accustomed to them yet.
“I hope it’s alright I came,” Spencer says shyly, almost apologetic. “I should have texted but I dropped my phone under the sofa and I can’t get down on the floor to retrieve it.” He blushes at his admission but gratefully accepts Aaron’s invitation to sit down.
Aaron smiles as warmly as he can manage, joining him on the couch. “You're fine, don't worry; it’s not like I’m up to much. I’m just happy to have some company.” He almost confesses that he was watching a children’s film before Spencer showed up, but decides that’s perhaps revealing just a little too much. “How have you been doing? I did message you, but I suppose your phone gathering dust under a couch explains the lack of a response.”
“You did?” Spencer’s eyes meet his and he looks utterly bewildered for some reason, seemingly surprised that Aaron would do such a thing. “Sorry, I— yes, that would be why, uh.” He looks down, clearly trying to gather himself as he plays with his fingers. “I’m fine, though. Obviously, the leg is a little sore, but. I’ll be back to work on Monday.”
“Good,” he replies, though he knows a gunshot wound will still be more than a little sore only two weeks after the initial injury. “How long do you have that?” He gestures vaguely to the brace around Spencer’s left leg.
“Not really sure,” Spencer says, looking sort of bemused by the contraption. “It’s pretty inconvenient, so I hope it isn’t too long.”
Aaron can’t help but smile at the small grin on Spencer’s face as he looks down at the brace. It looks… genuine. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to contemplate why that’s so endearingly surprising. “Are you looking forward to going back?” he asks, settling back into the couch cushions as he feels his muscles protest against his strained position.
Spencer seems to struggle for a response, unsure how to answer him. If he wasn’t so damn exhausted he might try and figure this slightly odd behaviour out, but the inherently complicated puzzle that is Spencer Reid feels like one too many right now. “I’m looking forward to not being quite so bored,” he eventually replies with a short, self-deprecating laugh. Aaron almost flinches at the sound, so foreign for Spencer’s gentle soul.
He’s fiddling with his crutches and the profiler in Aaron is screaming at him to decode what’s going on, but he forces himself to push it to the side. Spencer is a capable man. He’ll be fine. Aaron, on the other hand, needs to try and save his energy for his family.
“I can understand that,” Aaron says diplomatically, careful to not reply too emphatically one way or another. “The boredom’s crippling sometimes. Thankfully, the team coming round has been saving me from having to watch too many movies.”
Spencer seems to sort of shutter down as the words leave his mouth for reasons he doesn’t know or comprehend, but he does know that the resulting silence is awkward and he feels like he’s stuck his foot in his mouth by saying something totally innocuous. Has he had a falling out with someone or something? Is it something to do with not having many visitors in the hospital? He wouldn't blame him at all if that's still a sore spot.
“I’m going to have a coffee, I think,” he says, getting up carefully from the sofa and heading towards the kitchen despite the pain in his torso begging him to sit down. “Do you need anything?”
Spencer’s head snaps up, suddenly back and engaged. “Uh, no, I’m alright,” he says, and he sounds almost… choked up? “I should probably get going, anyway.”
“Oh, uh, okay,” Aaron says, a little surprised. His mind is too foggy with pain and grief to process the microexpressions and endlessly odd behaviours Spencer is exhibiting. He knows how much Spencer appreciates his company usually, so his leaving so soon is just wrong.
He doesn’t want him to go, he loves spending time with the younger man, and even if he is acting a little strangely, he’d much rather Spencer be with him than away from him, especially when the world seems so much more personally dangerous than it was before. At least if Spencer is close to him then he knows he’s safe, and that’s all he deserves, really. To be safe.
“Say hello to the team from me,” he says, fumbling with the door handle and awkwardly making his way out. He briefly turns back, “bye, Hotch,” before he’s closing the door behind him. Aaron can hear the plastic click of the crutches on the linoleum of the corridor as he hurries away from the apartment.
Before he can think much of it, though, he’s drawn to the couch, exhaustion overtaking his body. He’s asleep in seconds.
Eventually, he goes back to work and for a small amount of time, things seem like they’re going to be okay. Emily picks him up and takes him in, Penelope gives him homemade cookies — not that he didn’t already have an ample supply of the fruits of her kitchen waiting to be eaten in his fridge — and sure, he’s a little stressed and abrasive throughout the first case, but no-one holds it against him. It’s a little tricky when he doesn’t manage to stop Darin Call from shooting his father, but he’s calmed down by the time Emily walks him back to his apartment.
“He’s not alone,” she says as they stand in his small living room, talking about Call but looking rather pointedly in his direction. They both know what she means.
Penelope and Sam, the marshall looking after his family, help him see Jack again on his 4th birthday — granted, over one of her many computer screens — and he has to swallow down a sob at the sight of him swinging in the park, looking happy as ever. He tries to be furious at Haley for uprooting Jack again, causing them to move to a halfway house because of a few phone calls to her mother, but there’s nothing left in him. Anger at the inevitable takes energy he simply doesn’t have. It’s why he simply accepted it when the money for the counter-surveillance against Foyet ran out. Fighting seems pointless.
He does manage to get angry, though, when he finds out Spencer lied to him by telling him he was cleared to travel when he wasn’t. He’d put himself at risk for deep vein thrombosis or other complications, so he calls him out as soon as the initial debrief ends. He looks sort of relieved to be staying behind with Penelope, which is a little strange since he’s always so eager to be in the thick of the action, but he brushes it off and they get on with yet another case.
Of course, it’s significantly harder to deal with when the Bureau questions him as Unit Chief of his beloved team. He takes a step back for the sake of the team, and he’s glad he does, but things don’t feel quite so good, quite so positive. He’s suddenly following Morgan’s directions instead of giving them, no longer a leader, and it’s… humiliating.
Still, he trusts Morgan. He trusts the team in general, and they still solve cases, and they still gel together like a well-oiled machine. Things are okay. There’s still hope.
But then.
Then Karl Arnold sends him a message.
Then he agonises, fights, wrestles, swims against the current to try and save his family in time.
Then Haley dies.
🌧
Aaron thanks every god he doesn’t believe in that Jack is too little to really understand what’s happened. He knows Mommy isn’t around anymore, he knows something bad happened, that Daddy is sad, but beyond that, he has no real comprehension of the situation.
In the first days after Haley’s death, he spends a lot of time cuddled up in bed, holding Jack as close to him as he can, hugging close all he has left of his ex-wife, desperately gripping onto the one person he loves more than anything else in this world.
Once he’s cleared by the Bureau, he can at least breathe a little easier in knowing his job is safe; he can provide for his baby boy. What follows, however, is less pleasant than job security.
Watching his team cry at her funeral and seeing Haley’s family in pieces almost does him in. He’s not usually the kind of man to show emotion, but he can’t help swallowing a choked sob as he tells everyone gathered just how incredible Haley was, how lucky he and Jack and everyone who knew her were, and just how much he loved her.
“If Haley were with us today, she would ask us not to mourn her death but to celebrate her life. She would tell us… she would tell us to love our families unconditionally, and to hold them close because, in the end, they’re all that matter.”
As he reads his speech, he can’t help but think of his team. For years, they've been his second family — arguably, as much as it pains him to admit it, the family he prioritised the most — and now, they're all he and Jack have. All of them have reminded him of that over the past few days, between helping with funeral arrangements and making food for them both, constant check-ups and distractions and messages of love and support. Having his back in the moment that mattered most.
“Okay, you can go ahead,” he murmurs to Jack as he lifts him up onto his hip, the last two standing at her coffin. He watches as his son places his white rose on his mother’s coffin before following suit, stomach constricting with grief as he does so. “Blow Mommy a kiss.”
And he walks, his son clutched desperately in his arms, towards the wake.
(The team leaves the funeral, called to a case that — despite everything that’s happened — he can’t help but long to be a part of even if he knows he’d be no use right now, lost in the haze of grief and the massive life change that is suddenly being a single parent, the sole carer for his son.
He uses the time off to pack Jack’s things and move them into his own flat, trying as hard as he can to keep life as normal as possible for a little boy who just lost his mom. Actually having time to be with Jack feels like the only possible good thing to come out of this situation, and he tries to be present in the moment as much as humanly possible, grateful for every second he spends chattering away with him about the dramas and dilemmas of being four-years-old, or playing dinosaurs with him, or stroking his hair while he falls asleep.
Strauss visits, says hello to Jack, and then offers him early retirement. With a heavy heart, he promises he’ll think about it.
Jessica offers to stay with Jack while he’s away. He calls Strauss, and he declines.)
Almost as soon as the team gets back from their case in Tennessee, Spencer shows up again. This time he’s only leaning heavily on a cane instead of awkwardly wrestling against two crutches, and his brace is gone.
“Hi,” he breathes, smiling hesitantly at Hotch. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced again. This time I don’t have a dusty phone to use as an excuse, I just wanted to come as soon as possible and see how you and Jack were doing.”
“It’s fine, Spencer, don’t worry,” he says reassuringly, opening the door wide enough to allow him into the sitting room. Truthfully, he’s glad he’s turned up. Spencer’s a soothing presence; innocent, almost, in his openness and honesty, how trusting he is of everyone around him despite how hurt he’s been in the past. And while the others always scoff and groan at his academic and overly factual rambles, he’s rather fond of them.
“I don’t know if you heard,” he says as he takes a seat on Aaron’s sofa again, “but we solved the case.” His leg is clearly bothering him still: he’s subconsciously rubbing it through the fabric of his trousers and his facial expressions are showing subtle indicators of pain.
“I never doubted it,” Aaron says, face soft and open, happy to have Spencer here. He joins him on the couch. “How is it, working cases with the injury?” He wonders whether asking about work will have the same response as before, but he seems slightly calmer this time around. He hadn’t noticed anything amiss when he’d gone back, though he had, of course, been a little preoccupied; there's plenty he could have missed.
Spencer considers for a moment, looking marginally more subdued than the last time he’d sat on his sofa. “It’s… not easy, but I’m sort of used to it now. I don’t mind sitting out the fieldwork too much; besides, I get to talk to Penelope more.” He looks like he’s not saying something, averting his eyes as he talks but Aaron doesn’t push. He doesn’t want Spencer to bolt, but he makes a mental note to keep an eye on him when he eventually gets back to work again. “I heard through the grapevine that Strauss offered you retirement.”
He looks up at Aaron with wide, hesitant eyes and for a moment, his heart clenches tightly, a rush of some emotion he can’t quite place flooding his chest and squeezing the breath out of him. It’s only for a second: the moment’s over before he can actually process it, but it leaves him floundering for a response.
“I— ah, yes. She did,” he affirms, nodding his head, “but I declined.”
“You did?” Spencer asks, suddenly looking far brighter and another flash of that feeling flares in his chest.
As such, he can’t help the fond, private smile that spreads across his face. “I did.”
Spencer looks like he’s about to say something else but he’s interrupted by Jack dashing into the room, flying his toy plane around the room. As soon as he spots Spencer on the sofa, he dashes over, eager to show off his toy.
“Wow, that’s amazing, buddy,” Spencer says, looking as interested in a wooden replica of an aeroplane as an extremely well-educated adult possibly could. That’s probably because, Aaron thinks with a smile, he actually is.
Before Aaron knows it, he’s watching him be dragged towards his son’s new bedroom to inspect all his other toys. Jack has always loved Spencer and Spencer has always loved Jack, sharing a bond over an interest in all things scientific and mechanical, albeit at vastly different levels.
He hadn’t noticed how dull Spencer’s been looking until he brightens so considerably as soon as Jack is engaging with him, and his brows furrow. Trusting Jack to keep Spencer well entertained for the next few minutes, he fills a glass with water and leans against the counter of the kitchen, sipping it quietly as he thinks it over.
Now that he considers it properly, Spencer has seemed rather downcast and far quieter than usual recently. Not that he’d had the energy to address it, or even really clock it, the last time Spencer had turned up at his apartment, but his weird, abrupt departure was clearly triggered by discussion of the team. He starts to get some food out for lunch as he resolves to keep a much closer eye on things when he gets back to work.
He only thinks it over for a few more minutes before Spencer emerges into the kitchen, one hand clutching his cane and another gently holding Jack’s. He’s still bombarding him with questions about planes and trains and cars, but Spencer fields them expertly, managing to actually get an answer in before another question takes its place, a skill Aaron has yet to master. His chest clenches for the third time in the small period Spencer’s been in his flat as he watches the two together.
“Would you like to stay for lunch?” he offers, taking in Spencer’s small frame and dark eye bags; he can’t help the protective desire to feed him and make sure he’s happy and healthy.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Spencer says, looking pleased with the offer, mouth twisting into a little smile. Aaron probably shouldn’t feel quite so delighted at his acceptance, but he brushes it aside and turns to face his son, who is watching them curiously.
“Hey Jack,” he says, crouching down to face him, “how about we get you some lunch, yeah? You can continue asking Spencer some questions while we eat. How does that sound?”
Watching Jack’s face light up as he nods happily and looking up to see Spencer’s small smile still firmly pasted on his face makes him feel, for the first time since Haley died, like there’s a future for him. A good one.
Chapter Three
If this chapter brought anything up for you, hotlines are in the endnotes of the AO3 version of this fic. Bigger countries are listed and a link is included if you live somewhere else in the world. I love you all, see you next Saturday! <3
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @marvel-ous-m @oliverbrnch @sbeno22 @aaron-hotchner187 (taglist form)
#my writing#rct#rct 2#criminal minds#cm#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner#spencer reid#jack hotchner#hotchreid#aaron hotchner/spencer reid#aaron hotchner x spencer reid#spencer reid/aaron hotchner#spencer reid x aaron hotchner#heid#hotchreid fic#hotchreid fanfiction
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airport part 1
pairing: samuel drake/reader (m/f)
genre: smut
warnings: graphic sex, dirty talk, car sex, daddy kink
words: 1,819
summary:
You pick Sam up at the airport late at night. He missed you and has no patience.
A collection of smut with Sam in different situations.
note:
Part one of my Sam smut series. The whole thing is here!! Enjoy!
You stood in the waiting area at the airport at 2:30 a.m., waiting for Sam. It was practically empty, save for the few airport employees and an elderly man. He hobbled over to where you were sitting.
“I'm waiting for my wife,” the old man smiled fondly. “She went to visit her sister in Brazil.”
“Are those flowers for her?” You gestured at the rather large bouquet in his arms.
“Yes, my Daisy loves daisies,” he chuckled. “Who are you waiting for at this time?”
“My…” What was Sam to you? Your business partner? Your boyfriend? The man you were sleeping with?
“My friend.”
“Must be a good friend for you to be waiting for them at this hour.”
You chuckled. In honesty, you thought about not picking Sam up at all and just asking him to get a cab, but if you were really being honest, you missed him and you couldn't wait to see him.
“Well, he means a lot to me,” you nodded.
At that moment, looking people started pouring out of the arrivals gate, and the man stood up excitedly.
“There's my Daisy!” He exclaimed.
An elderly woman wearing a floral dress under her gingham coat appeared from the gate. It was 2 a.m., but she had the reddest lipstick on and she looked more awake than everyone else. You watched as the old man walked up to her and kissed her as he gave her the bouquet.
It was sweet, and you imagined having that future with someone even for a moment. You weren't the marrying type, and Sam sure wasn't. Not that you were thinking about marrying him.
Not yet, anyway.
Sam finally came out of the gate. Thankfully, he didn't have a black eye this time, but he still looked exhausted.
“Sam!” You called out and he gave you a lopsided grin as he approached you. To your surprise, he dropped his duffel bag and hugged you.
“You're a sight for sore eyes.” His voice was soft and tired.
“Did you have a good trip?” You looked up at him.
“Yeah,” he shrugged
He leaned over and gave you a kiss. You couldn't help but kiss him back, your hands sliding from his chest to the fuzzy sherpa around his neck.
“God, I missed kissing you,” he muttered as he pulled away. “I don't know what you did but I just couldn't stop thinking about you.”
“Wow, you need sleep,” you laughed.
“What are you talking about?” Sam smiled. “I slept like a baby on that cramped seat.”
“Don't you miss Sully’s seaplane?”
“Hmm, but then I won't have the privilege of having you picking me up at the airport.”
“You're such a flirt.” You gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Come on, let's get to the car.”
Sam picked his bag up again and wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you walked out. The elderly man gave you a warm smile as you passed him and his wife.
The parking lot was kind of full when you parked earlier, but almost everyone had left and now it was empty and dark. You were glad Sam was with you because empty parking lots usually gave you anxiety.
“It's kinda cold,” you said as you fumbled for your keys. It was deep inside your bag and you cursed yourself for not putting it in a more accessible place.
“Here,” Sam took his jacket off. “You'll get cold.”
His jacket smelled like him. It was an earthy mix of nicotine and sweat, and you liked it. Without the jacket, he had a simple black t-shirt and jeans on.
“What about you?” You turned to him.
“I'll be fine,” Sam shrugged.
You put a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble that had started to grow out. There was a tenderness in the way he looked at you as he leaned over and kissed you.
“What gives?” You laughed.
“What?” He leaned his forehead against yours, and you felt his hands on your waist.
“Why are you being so sweet? The beautiful strangers in Brazil didn't satisfy you?”
“Apparently not,” Sam kissed you again.
The kiss deepened and he pushed himself flush against you on the car. You sighed as his lips moved down your jaw to your neck.
You cried out as Sam left marks on your neck and collarbone. His hand slid under your skirt to your thigh and you pushed him away in surprise.
“Wait, now? Here?” You whispered.
“There's no one around,” Sam wrapped his arms around your waist again. “Besides, I just can't wait anymore, baby.”
His hands slid into your panties, his eyes dark as he looked into yours. You closed your eyes as you felt his finger on your clit, rubbing small circles.
“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Sam vigorously fingered you.
You nodded in reply, moaning softly.
“I really wanna hear you say it,” he pushed further. “Say it or I'll stop.”
His fingers slowed down and you whimpered.
“I-I missed you!”
You grabbed onto his shirt as Sam continued to finger you. He pushed against you again, kissing your neck. It was almost too much for you and you were gasping out his name as you came.
“That's my girl,” he had a smug look on his handsome face. “Do you wanna keep going?”
Your legs felt like jelly and you were still trying to catch your breath but you nodded. Sam took your hand and bent you over the hood of the car. It was cold, but Sam’s hands were warm when he lifted your skirt up and pulled your lacy white panties off.
His slid two fingers inside of you, stroking just the right spot.
“Oh baby,” you whimpered.
“You look so good with my fingers inside of you.”
He pumped his fingers faster until your legs were quivering again. You purred out his name over and over until the knot in your stomach released and you came again.
You flipped over on your back to pull Sam in and kiss him. His hands wrapped around your waist under his jacket. The tent in his pants was hard to ignore as he started grinding against you.
“Show me how much you missed me,” he said in your ear.
You hoped there weren't cameras around in that parking lot as you slid off the hood. Sam fumbled with his jeans and you helped him unzip it. His cock popped out and you started stroking his shaft.
“Like what you see?” You blinked up at him.
“Yeah, but I think you can make it just a little better.”
“Like...this?” You took his cock in your mouth, keeping eye contact with him as you sucked on the tip.
“Perfect.”
You moaned softly as you bobbed your head back and forth on his shaft and he grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your drool dripped on your chest as Sam continued to fuck your mouth.
“God, you're beautiful,” Sam groaned.
He pulled away and you squealed as he pulled you up on the hood.
When he kissed you again, you bit his lip, earning a gentle slap on your ass. His cock was poking at your entrance, and Sam pushed you back on the hood while you lay there with your legs spread out.
“Ready?” He gently cupped your cheek.
“Please,” you nodded.
Sam intertwined his fingers with yours as he pushed inside you. He groaned at the sensation that he missed the last few weeks and it didn't take him long before he was pounding into you.
“Oh, Sam! I missed you so much!” You cried out. You wanted to touch his face or grab onto his hair, but he had your hands pinned down against the metal of the car.
“I couldn't stop thinking about you,” he panted. “Your voice, your face, the way you feel. God, baby, you're so fucking sexy.”
Sam was desperate to cum as you were, and he knew he had to be fast in case someone walked by or decided to park in a dark, empty lot. His hands moved to lift your shirt up over your chest and he grabbed your breasts.
“Yeah, that's it, daddy,” you purred. The pressure in your stomach was building up again and the faster Sam moved his hips, the more you could feel yourself get closer to climax.
“Cum for me, princess,” he coaxed. “You're so good.”
He pulled out entirely and roughly thrust back inside of you. In that instant, you came undone. There were stars in your eyes and you weren't sure if they were from your third orgasm or if they were the stars in the sky behind Sam.
Sam threw his head back and groaned deeply as he gave one last thrust deep inside of you. The warm liquid slid down your ass and you hummed in delight.
He kissed you one last time then you fixed yourself up and got into the car as if nothing had happened. Sam made some conversation, asking you what you've been up to and telling you about how beautiful Brazil was. It was usually like this after you had sex with him, but you felt a little confused because he was so sweet before all that happened.
You glanced over at Sam who had drifted off, wondering what he actually felt about you. He got into your pants more than you could remember, but can only count on one hand the times he'd cuddled you and spent the night over.
You stopped in front of Sam’s apartment and gently woke him up.
“Hey, we’re here,” you said softly.
“How long was I out?” He yawned.
“Not too long.”
“You going home?”
“I think so.”
“Stay the night,” Sam took your hand in his.
“I don’t know. I think you should get some rest tonight.”
“Who said I won’t get any sleep?”
“I don’t wanna disturb you…”
You closed your eyes as Sam leaned over to kiss you softly.
“You won’t.” His voice was low and he looked at you with such fondness that it caught you off guard. “Please stay.”
“As long as you promise you’ll sleep.”
“I promise,” he made a little cross on his heart, making you laugh.
Sam had dropped his duffel bag near the door, kicked off his boots, and crashed onto the mattress on the floor. You weren’t sure if he’d passed out yet, but you locked the door behind you and shrugged his jacket off before crawling in next to him. His arms instantly wrapped around you.
He was warm and his sheets smelled like fresh laundry. If you weren’t already sleepy, you instantly felt your eyelids get heavy and you didn’t want anything more than to just drift off. Sam kissed the top of your head as you snuggled into him.
“Thanks for picking me up,” he whispered.
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11. Centaur Indruck (maybe specifically Duck) rating up to you
Here you go! I went with SFW, and a western theme just for fun.
It’s only May, but the desert air is hot and dry, will only get more so as the summer spreads across the mountains. The sun drives Duck to the stream running down the hill, it’s banks shaded by cottonwoods. Pa Newton sent him in search of flowers for the table; it’s Ma Newton’s birthday, and her husband is determined to make it perfect.
“I only get so much time away from the mines, best make the most of it.”
Duck knows just what to pick. Lupines and Daisies will make the perfect bouquet. He spies a clump of daisies, lowers himself to the ground, taking care not to crush too many as he sits. There’s a scuff of rock as grey-brown dust lands on his shoulder. He looks up, expecting a jackrabbit or maybe even a deer, and finds a human staring down at him.
The boy must be about his age, his pale hair falling about a face that’s as skinny as the rest of him. His clothes look fancy, which is at odds with the tear in the knee and smudges on his cheeks. Brown eyes are watery as they stare back at Duck, and he suspects his hands are over his mouth because he was crying and didn’t want Duck to hear him.
“Uh, howdy.” He waves. Instead of waving back, the boy seems more alarmed.
Maybe he’s never seen a centaur before?
Duck tries again, “You lost? I’m goin back up to town real soon, and if I can’t help you, my folks can.”
The boy sniffs, “I’m not lost. I’m hiding.”
“From what?” Duck gathers up his daisies, spots lupine near the rock where the boy is perching.
“Other boys in town. I hate it here, hate how hard it is to breathe, hate the dust, hate how there’s odd things like centaurs and cactus cats out here-”
“Hey!”
The boy winces so intensely Duck regrets yelling, “Apologies. I just, I wish we’d never left the city.”
That explains the clothes. Duck, at eleven years old, knows very little about the town economy. But he knows that while the silver is found in the mines around his home, the money runs down hill to Carson City.
“How come you did?”
“Father got a new job at the bank. Why are you here?” He cocks his head.
“‘Cause my family’s lived in these parts for six generations.”
“No, I meant by the water.”
“Oh. Uh, pickin flowers for my mama.”
“Don’t let the other boys see you. If they broke my glasses for drawing flowers, I don’t think they’ll be too kind to you.”
Duck shrugs, “I ain’t scared of them. And there ain’t nothin wrong with drawin flowers.” Bouquet finished, he stands, the boy’s eyes widening as he registers the differences in their shapes.
“You wanna walk up the hill with me?”
“Yes, please.”
As the trek back to the dusty streets of Virginia City, he learns the human is called Indrid, and that he’s much more talkative than his initial reticence implied. They’re mid discussion of the caterpillars Indrid is raising when they reach a fine, three story house. Indrid bids Duck good afternoon. Duck asks him to wait, takes a lupine from the bouquet, and tucks it safely into the buttonhole on his jacket.
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“Want some?” Duck holds out a biscuit from his lunch pail. Indrid takes it, scarfing it down in one go.
“Hungry?” Duck teases, sipping from his canteen.
“Enough to eat a horse.” Indrid grins as his friend clutches his sides, laughing. He’d used the turn of phrase accidentally two weeks ago, then tried to cover it with a joke about only if the horse was willing, which only made his friend guffaw and wheeze harder. Now, whenever one of them needs to crack the other up, they mention eating horses.
They’re fourteen, and have spent the better part of the summer working on the Newton Ranch. Duck’s father, after a very close call in the silver mines, decided to extend his time above ground by running an egg and dairy supply for the town. Indrid convinced his father that it was good for a young man to earn a living with his hands during his youth, as it would make him strong and healthy. Mr. Cold, with a little assurance from Mrs. Newton that she would make sure the boys didn’t loaf about, agreed.Mrs. Newton is a woman of her word. Here he is wind-burnt and tan, sweat running down his back and callouses forming on his hands.
He’d do double the work if it meant staying near Duck. Duck’s parents seem to suspect this, and some combination of them wanting their son to be happy and wanting to earn the good graces of a wealthy family leads them to give the boys time to rest or wander about the farm after dinner before sending Indrid on his way.
It’s during one such evening circuit, on the far edge of the property, that Indrid finds a chipmunk burrow with his foot. The pain in his ankle sends him to the ground.
“Ow.”
“Shit. Can you stand at all?”
Indrid tries it and sits right back down, “No. I guess we’ll have to go very, very slow on the way back so I can hobble, and pray another hole doesn’t take out my left foot as well.”
Duck flicks his tail, “I mean, if you wanna take all night, sure. But, uh, what if I give you a ride?”
Indrid blinks at him in the twilight. Riding a centaur is Not Done; the centaurs find it insulting, and humans view it as scandalous.
“You won’t get in trouble, I promise, and I’ll go slow.”
He nods and the centaur kneels, the human clambering awkwardly onto his back.
“Duck? Where do I put my hands?”
“Huh. Around my shoulders, maybe? Yeah, that don’t mess up my balance none.”
Indrid presses himself to Duck’s back, marveling at the strength in the muscles moving beneath him.
“You know” he murmurs into Duck’s hair, “I’m awfully tempted to say giddyup or some such nonsense.”
“You do and I’ll buck you off and leave you for the coyotes.”
“You can buck me anytime.”
Duck calls his bluff by giving the world’s smallest buck. Indrid yelps, then cackles into his shoulders as Duck trots forward, the two of them laughing into the desert night.
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“Blasted mosquitos” Indrid waves his sketchbook in the summer air. At sixteen, he’s taken to wearing red spectacles and black clothing. This style, combined with the sharp angles of his face, leads more than a few people in town to say he looks sinister.
Duck thinks he’s dashing. Not that he spends much time looking, not at all. Indrid is such a constant in his life that he hardly notices the changes as they age. Except when Indrid smiles at him in a secretive way or when, as he did yesterday, he strips down to nothing for a swim in the river.
“Maybe they’re mad you ain’t drawin them.” Duck reaches into the cool water, picking up several stones just right for skipping.
“But I have. I used my magnifying glass to make a detailed sketch of one last week.”
“Jesus, ‘Drid, is there anythin you ain’t drawn at this point?” The stone skips five times
“Well….I haven’t drawn you.”
“You’ve drawn me plenty.” Six skips this time, not bad.
“I mean in the, ah, traditional sense.”
Ker-plunk
The stone sinks in one as Duck looks over at his friend.
“You already have your shirt off. Even with the wrap gone, I, ah, I couldn’t see, that is, only if you want to.” He sighs, “I’m not expressing this well. What I mean is that you have the finest form of any human or centaur I know. I would like to capture it, try to do it justice. If, if you’ll let me?”
Duck stands, grabs the strap of the wrap covering his lower, “You’re hard to say no to, ‘Drid.”
“You can if you...need...to.” Indrid follows the fabrics path to the ground, then fixes his eyes on Duck as he lowers himself into a comfortable position.
“This good?”
“Extremely.” The human’s gaze fights to stay clinical as it scans him, rough outlines of his body forming on the paper. Soon, Indrid is engrossed in the illustration, though whenever they lock eyes or he glances at Duck’s chest or hindquarters, he goes pink.
Duck whistles, tracks the songbirds hopping from tree to tree. His friend doffs his jacket, rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up as sunbeams scatter through the trees.
“You really are handsome.” Indrid murmurs, “you know that, right?”
“Heard as much from folks now and then. But you sayin’ it is a, uh, interestin development. Almost like you’re tryin to tell me somethin.” His voice catches between teasing and earnest, afraid moving too far one way or the other will scare his friend away.
“I...I need to get closer, to capture some details.” He slides off the rock to sit on his knees near Duck’s chest. The half-finished drawing peeks out from the paper, it’s perspective too far away for Indrid’s current examination to be of any use to it.
“What details are you hopin’ to capture?” Duck pushes pale hair out of Indrid’s eyes.
“I, ah, the dapples just here, and this line, oh to hell with it.” He lunges into a kiss, so eager he nearly knocks Duck sideways. The centaur snickers, cups his face as ink-stained fingers thread into his hair. Indrid licks into his mouth, messy and unpracticed. Duck holds him there tames the frantic exploration down to something more refined but no less hungry. By the time they separate, Indrid’s face is bright red and Duck’s lips are sore.
“‘Drid?” He brushes their noses together, runs his palms soothingly up and down a rumpled white shirt.
“I’ve wanted that for so long.” Indrid sighs, curling closer in spite of the heat. Holding him like this, able to inhale his sweat and aftershave and feel his heartbeat, Duck understands there’s no going back. There is no pretending not to know, not to see the way Indrid looks at him. Which is fine by Duck; he loves Indrid Cold, and he doesn’t plan on stopping any time soon.
-----------------------------------------------
Duck is twenty years old when he learns that joy and heartbreak can exist in one body without ripping it apart. This is a pity, since he’d prefer bifurcation to the sorrow on Indrid’s face.
“I’m sorry, Duck. I have to stay here and take over the bank, even though following you west is all I want to do.”
Two months ago, a friendly man stopped while Duck was tending the garden outside city hall and chatted with him for the better part of an hour as the centaur worked. The man turned out to be a millionaire with a massive estate mid-way up the California coast, including parts of a forest he wished to maintain but keep wild. He offered Duck the role of head gardener and arborist, and the contract was signed a week ago. The centaur assumed, from his active encouragement and celebration, that Indrid was coming with him on this once-in-a-lifetime chance.
“I’ll send a wire, tell ‘em I gotta back out.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“Seems to me you don’t get a say in that.”
“Duck, please” Indrid sets his left hand on his shoulder, right clenched at his side, “please do not cast your future aside on my account. Just because I have to stay here doesn’t mean you do.”
“Why do you have to stay at all?”
“I’ve been groomed to take my fathers’ place for years. I’m not sure there’s a way out of that, not one that I can see. Sometimes, fate is not in our favor.”
“Fuck fate.” He stops his front hoof.
“Here, you might need this out in California” Indrid lifts his fist, intending to give what it contains back to Duck, as the centaur placed the item there not even five minutes ago.
Duck stops his hand, wraps his own around it, “No. I know the man for me is right here.”
“As do I” Indrids voice is tight. When his face drops against Duck’s chest, it’s damp with tears.
“Then he better write to me to let me know how he’s gettin on. And if he” Duck swallows around the painful possibility in his throat, “if he ever changes his mind, all he’s gotta do is send it back to me in a letter.”
Indrid slips his hand into his pants pocket, “Understood.”
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“Duck!” Leo, one of Mr. Greenbanks two bodyguards, hails Duck from the mansions’ patio, “come on in a second, someone Mr. G wants you to meet.”
The centaur wipes his hands and trots briskly up the path to the house, droplets of fog strung through his hair. Most days he likes the peace and quiet of his work, but today he’s not in a contemplative mood; Indrid’s last letter was two weeks ago, when they usually come once a week if not more. Illness doesn’t stop him, he simply asks a friend in town to take down and post the letters.
Once he’s certain he won’t track mud into the house, Duck makes his way towards the voices in the parlor. He must be more heartsick than usual today, because that voice sounds like-
“Ah, Duck, here you are. This is Mr. Indrid Cold, a talented young artist who will be illustrating my various scientific writings. And,” Mr. Greenbank winks, “will have the honor of being in charge of any artistic endeavors at the Academy of Sciences.”
Indrid extends his hand. Duck kisses it out of habit, notes his employers' perplexed expression an instant too late.
“It’s a, uh, an old, uh, centaur custom--no, fuck, it’s-”
“We are well known to each other.” Indrid smiles his most genteel smile.
“Splendid! I’m hoping to draw up extensive records of my arboretum, so it’s good you two get along.”
“Indeed.” Indrid tips his head, then turns his attention away from Duck, “where would you like me to unpack my things?”
Duck leaves them to their logistics, stunned. Indrid not only being here, but acting distant after six months apart raises so many questions that he wants to lay down in the flowerbeds and holler until someone answers them.
He busies himself among forest wildflowers instead, wondering why Indrid never mentioned he was applying for that position.
“I hope this explains the gap in my communication.” Indrid, shivering near a tree-trunk, pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his glasses, “I didn’t want to tell you my plans for fear they’d fall through and make you all the more disappointed. Also, the journey here was rather chaotic due to an attempted train robbery. All that is to say I’m sorry if I caused you any distress.”
“Yeah, you did” Duck sets down his tools, “but it was so fuckin worth it.” He yanks the human into an embrace, kisses him until his glasses are all askew. Indrid moans, slipping his fingers under the hem of his work shirt to stroke the band where skin meets fur.
“What happened to fate?” Duck nips his jaw.
“As someone I know so eloquently put it: fuck fate.”
“Smart fella.”
“He is.” Indrid pulls back, mapping Ducks’ body with his hands, “And I also have something for him.” The human tucks a sprig of Lupines-- weighed down with a silver engagement ring--into Duck’s shirt pocket.
“You said sending it with a letter meant the end of things. By that same token, delivering it in person signals their beginning, yes?”
“Yeah.” Duck kisses him, soft as the lifting fog, “guess we better tell Mr. Greenbank he can just let you stay in my cottage.”
“Indeed. May I, ah, see this lovely abode?”
“Right this way. You want me to give you a ride.”
Indrid shakes his head, simply takes Duck’s hand and falls into step beside him, “No. I suspect there will be plenty of opportunities for, ah, riding later. After all, I’m here to stay.
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Steve//i can see a better time, when all our dreams come true
hey! last part! i just want to say thank you to everyone who’s read, liked, reblogged and supported this series! you all mean the absolute world to me. i know this is gonna sound cringey or whatever, but this series is more than just that. i was originally supposed to write and post this last christmas. but something that i can’t really remember stopped me and i was so disappointed in myself. then this hell hole of a year happened and i had a major mental health crisis (something i am still recovering from) meaning i couldn’t do anything but watch the same three tv shows and scroll through instagram for about 3 months, as well as a bunch of other awful things. i thought it would be a miracle to just start writing requests again, but then when i was going through a notebook, i found this idea and remembered how much i loved it and how upset i was that i hadn’t done it. so i thought i’d try and do it, and after many, many days and nights of me stressing about the littlest things and driving my girlfriend absolutely insane by only talking about this (sorry, i love you!), i’d done it! and i am so proud of myself! i know its not the biggest achievement of the year, but it’s mine. so again thank you to not only everyone whose read this series, but also thank you to everyone who has read and supported everything i’ve done this year. i really do hope that next year is a better one for all of you! happy new year my loves!
They say that time moves in different ways depending on the situation.
For example, the day you spent hours driving to the beach with Steve and Robin felt like it was over in five minutes. But the time stuck under ground in a really crappy elevator with them felt more like a week.
From the time it takes Steve to take his bandana and goggles off and to walk the three steps to you, it feels like days and seconds all at once. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight to him and the two of you let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for the past week. Finally you feel like you can breathe again, and finally the weight on Steve’s chest shifts a little.
Your hair is matted, your clothes dirty and torn and there’s a cut on your cheek, blood slowly trickles down your cheek, staining your face and your t-shirt red. But you’re you, and you’re alive and you look like you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” You’re the first to speak, your words stumbling over each other. A chuckle mixed with a sob passes your lips as you hug him again, you hold him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, it feels like his ribs are being crushed but he doesn’t care. He just presses a kiss against your forehead, and runs his fingers through your knotted hair.
Hot tears land on the top of your head but you don’t feel them, you’re too busy crying into his shirt and the two of you stand like that for a few minute, thankful and very overwhelmed that the other one is alive and well.
“I think I do.” He sobs and you let out a short laugh. “I love you so much Y/n. I am so fucking sorry. I’m such an idiot.”
“No, no. It’s fine.” You cup his cheeks. “I was overreacting and I shouldn’t have stormed off. It’s fine.” You say and press a quick kiss to his lips, they’re salty because of the tears but neither of you care. “I love you Steve.” You finish and he breathes deeply, his shoulders sagging and the only thing that keeps him from falling is you.
“I thought you were dead.” He cries.
“Nah. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” You try, nudging his shoulder but he doesn’t smile.
“I thought I’d never see you again. I thought...I thought.”
“I’m fine.” You cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “Look. I’m good.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” He teases and you stare at him offended.
“Rude. You do know that I almost died right?”
“You’re so dramatic.” He rolls his eyes and yours widen.
“Excuse me? I’m sorry who came all the way into an alternate dimension just to save me? Oh right. You.”
“I only did that because I had nothing better to do. You know after boxing day things got a bit boring.” He shrugs and you slap his shoulder.
“Asshole.” You mumble making him laugh. “How did you find me?”
“Do you really think I’d forget the place we first met?” He replies, sending you a look and you squint up at him, the light from his torch blinding you slightly. “Sorry.” He mumbles and quickly turns it off.
“I thought given the circumstances you would have at least tried.” You shrug, staring at the floor.
“Nah. Surprisingly it was the best day of my life.” He confesses and it surprises not only you but himself. That’s something he never thought he’d say.
He thought Halloween 1984 would be a day that always hurt to think about. And yeah, thinking about what Nancy said to him still stung, but then he remembers you.
You, in a costume he didn’t quite get. Your expression full of irritation that only softened when you saw him crying. You who asked what was wrong and stayed with him until he decided he wanted to go home. You who the next day found him to make sure he was okay.
“Will you marry me?” He asks and your eyes widen.
“What?” You splutter and he stares at you hopefully.
“I love you more than I have loved anything ever. You’re my favourite person ever, you make every day brighter. On days where I think I can’t do anything, when I think my dad is right about all the the shit he’s said and that little nagging voice in my head is shouting, you’re always there to tell me I’m wrong. You’ve helped me when I’ve been broken up with, beaten up and drugged. You fought a Russians for me and beaten up creatures from another dimension without even knowing what it was. I’ve never felt safer or happier with you by my side. I know I’m an idiot, but still...will you marry me?”
“Steve.” You gasp, tears roll down your cheeks mixing with the blood and goo. “Yes. Yes I will marry you.” You reply and he lets of a sigh of relief. “Although, you didn’t get on one knee, and I don’t see a ring.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.
His hands cup your cheeks delicately, he ducks his head down and presses a gentle kiss against your chapped and sore lips.
“Steve? Steve? Are you okay?” Robin’s voice crackles through the walkie-talkie and you jump apart, suddenly remembering where you are. A loud crash comes from just outside and you and Steve freeze and stare at each other.
Thunder booms so loud it rings in your ears for a few seconds after and Steve feels the weight come back, only this time its shared with you too.
“I’ve got her.” He says slowly and eyes the bathroom suspiciously. “If you’re not already at the portal, go now. We’re on our way back...over.” He says and you hear a collection of relived sighs.
“Yay! You said it!” Annie cheers and Steve rolls his eyes.
“What she means is we’re glad you’re both okay. Now get your ass back.” Robin adds and you and Steve don’t need to be told twice. Steve grabs the bat he dropped on the floor and reaches for your hand. He starts to pull you but is instantly stopped when he hears your cry in pain.
“What? What’s wrong?” He’s in front of you instantly, looking you up and down for any injuries, and then his eyes land on your leg, and you watch him pale.
“Stupid ugly thing got me.” You mumble and glance down at it, you cringe at the sight of the now brown blood, and inflamed scratches. Yeah, there is no way you’re going to be able to get that stain out.
“Can you walk.” He asks and looks around for anything to help.
“I’ll be fine Steve. I just need to get used to it.” You reply.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You nod. “Come on. I don’t want to be in Tina’s bathroom anymore than I already have been.”
“Same.” He huffs and wraps his bandana around you.
“What about you?” You ask while he puts the goggles on you.
“I’ll be fine.” He waves you off. “It’s only a bit of dust.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Now come on.” He says quicker and wraps an arm around you. The two of you hobble towards the front door, tripping on a few vines and branches.
Steve helps you balance against the wall and the front door creaks as he pulls it open.
“Okay.” He nods and looks back at you. “Nothing is waiting to kill us so I think we’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.” You smirk and he rolls his eyes at you while helping you walk again.
As soon as your outside, the door slams closed making the two of you jump. Wind rushes around the two of you and brown and black works its way into the cracks of the sky. Buildings tumble down around you, almost as if an invisible force is stomping on each of them. You and Steve share a look as the chaos seems to get closer and closer to you.
“Shall we go then?” Steve asks, his eyes wide with fear and you quickly nod.
“Yep.” You reply. “I hate parties anyway.” You say and a small smile twitches on your lips. Steve returns it and the two of you make your way down the steps and onto the street.
Thankfully, Tina doesn’t live that far from you. In the past that was something you hated because it meant you couldn’t get out of parties, this time however, you’re very grateful for the closeness of your homes.
In an ideal world, it means you’ll be able to get back to the right and semi-safe world in less than twenty minutes. However, if the past seven years have taught you and Steve anything, it’s that you don’t live in an ideal world. You live in the opposite in fact.
Like you said, the habitants of The Upside Down, don’t care much for cleaning, and it’s only made worse now that the entire things seems to be collapsing around you. Either it’s doing it on purpose so none of you can escape, or all of you just have some really bad timing.
“So this whole place is dying?” You ask and look around. It certainly looks like it’s dying. It has done since you woke up and its only gotten worse. You also thought it was strange that you hadn’t been eaten by now.
“Yep.” He replies. “Apparently all those times we thought we’d won but hadn’t. Did actually do something. It just took a while for it to feel the affect.”
“And I’m in here because?”
“Annie said that whatever dragged you in, was probably looking for anything to eat.” He replies and you think about it for a few seconds.
“So why didn’t it eat me?”
“How the hell am I suppose to know.” He says. “Do I look like the scientist here?”
“Furthest from actually.”
“Exactly.” He smiles.
“So what’s the plan?”
“We get out as quickly as we can.”
“The more detailed plan?” You roll your eyes.
“Dustin and Lucas got a bunch of explosives and fireworks. We’ve dumped them in here and as soon as we get out, El and Will’s going to explode them!” He says proudly and you look at him impressed.
“Wo-Watch out!”
You and Steve narrowly miss being hit by a falling tree, only to trip over some sort of decaying monster.
“Gross.” You huff and look down at your hands, now covered in blood and guts. “Are you okay Steve?” You ask while trying to stand back up.
“No.” He mumbles and you frown as you turn around to face him. He’s hunched over in the middle of the road, dry heaving and your eyebrows furrow as you watch him.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, however instead of answering you’re just met with a groan. “Steve? We haven’t got all day.”
“It went in my mouth!” He exclaims and turns around, throwing his hands up in the air. “That things guts were in my mouth. I can taste blood. Oh god. I’m gonna die. Or turn into one of those. Y/n, if I turn into anything like that please just kill me. You have my permission to take a baseball bat to my head...just please, bury me somewhere nice.” He rambles making you snort a laugh. “It’s not funny Y/n.”
“It kind of is.” You reply and he glares at you.
“It’s not.” He mutters and slowly walks towards you. However he freezes when he notices your eyes widening. “What?” He asks. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t move.” You whisper and he feels his blood run cold.
“What?” He squeaks and watches you slowly limp and pick up the bat lying on the floor.
“Oh god. It’s happening isn’t. I love you Y/n. Tell Robin it was me that broke her Walkman. I told her it was Dustin, but it was me.” He closes his eyes, expecting the worst.
Something scratches at his legs and he breathes in, this is it. He’s going to die, so are you and everything is going to be for nothing. He wants to reach out for you, to hold you close and then at least you’ll be together, but he can’t he’s frozen.
And then he hears a thud, a small whine and your heavy breathing. Slowly he opens one eye, expecting to see some sort of toothy monster staring back at him. But instead he’s met with the back of your head. He watches you drop the bat, the noise echoing into the darkness and slowly he looks down.
He’s not entirely sure what tried to kill him, it’s unrecognizable now that’s been beaten into the ground, but it looks scary anyway.
“It’s the same fucker that dragged me in here in the first place.” You look over your shoulder and wipe your forehead.
“I love you so much.” He stares at you in awe. “That was hot.”
“Shut up.” You huff but wink at him anyway. “Are you okay?” You ask and glance at his leg.
“Oh, yeah.” He shrugs and looks at the small scratch. “I’ll be fine. What about you?”
“I’ll live.” You shrug.
The two of you stumble around the corner and into the forest and you watch as your friends climb through the glowing doorway to the real world.
“Guys!” Steve shouts making everyone freeze. The kids have already gone through, leaving just Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Annie and Joyce behind. Tears form in your eyes as you stare at your friends.
“Hurry up!” Jonathan shouts.
“I’m trying! It’s a bit difficult though with my leg hanging off!” You shout back and watch as Jonathan pushes Nancy through the goo before running towards you.
“Jonathan!” Joyce shouts, her voice can barely be heard over the wind. It blows through your ears and makes you shiver. Trees move wildly around you and you watch as the sky starts to fall away.
“Well that can’t be good.” You gulp and walk a bit quicker. Jonathan stands on the other side of you, holding your waist and the three of you stumble towards the portal.
They let go of you and push you through, you land on the forest floor with a loud thud and small groan escapes your lips.
“Y/n!” The group shout and everyone moves to help you stand. You’ve never been so happy to see everyone. Robin and Annie pull Jonathan, Steve and Joyce through. And as soon as Joyce is stood up, El and Will press the detonators. There’s a loud bang that makes you all jump back, and you watch as the portal vanishes, leaving the brown of the tree trunk behind.
“Is everyone here?” Joyce asks and scans the group.
“It’s a bit late if they’re not.” Robin replies. “But yes...I think we did it. We actually did it! Yes!!” She cheers and jumps up and down. Everyone shares a look before looking back at her and even Annie looks a little concerned.
“I can’t believe you all came for me.” You pull the goggles and fabric off of your face, and tears roll down your cheeks.
“Of course we did.” Dustin hugs you.
“You didn’t think we’d leave you in there did you?” Nancy asks also wrapping you up into a tight hug. The res of the group follow and soon you’re in the middle of an eleven people hug...not that you’re complaining though.
“Jesus Christ. How long were we in there?” Steve asks and looks at the now dark sky.
“Who the fuck cares. Let’s go home.”
Fireworks crackle and explode above your head. The sky lights up with red and oranges, leading the way home for the 12 of you.
The residents hope that the bright lights will keep the darkness at bay, but from now on, they won’t have to.
“Happy New Year love.”
“Happy New Year Steve.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things#stranger things imagine
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Cruel Dreams (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}
Title: Cruel Dreams
Rating: PG-13
Length: 2800
Warnings: Angst
Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set November 1991. Set directly after Stircrazy.
Summary: Reader has a dream.
@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @beccaplaying @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex@ham4arrow@plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts@synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper@awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy@cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen@arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn@cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato@coredrive @pascalesque@theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou@yespolkadotkitty @fleetwoodmactshirt @seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie @jaime1110@katlikeme
Sometimes your dreams were cruel. Sometimes your dreams took you back to your childhood, to evenings spent hiding from your mother, summer days in the park with your father… Sometimes you even dreamed of Lance, which almost always filled you with a sense of regret, because you used him to fill a hole you knew he couldn’t fill. He fell for you and you were just passing the time.
But the worst dreams were the ones that were about Javier. Because those weren’t fragmented dreams of past follies — they were almost always dreams about what could have been. A better world than the one you lived in.
There had to be something wrong with you. You kept dreaming about him and it did nothing to help that deep sense of longing you felt for him.
“You asshole!” You shouted with a laugh as you swung open your apartment door, relieved to see him waiting on the other side for you. “You gave me a fucking heart attack.” You informed him as you hobbled forward, without hesitation, and threw your arms around him.
Javier hesitated for a split second, before he curled his arms around her, running his hand up and down the length of her back. “Hey, hobble horse.” He murmured, leaving her feeling warm all the way to her core.
“Oh, fuck you.” You laughed, punching him in the arm lightly, trying to shake these new feelings you felt.
“How are you feeling?” He questioned, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
“Better now,” You pulled back, grinning up at him. “Much better now.” It had been three days since you’d last spoken to him — he hadn’t called like he promised.
“Yeah?” Javier mirrored your grin, his gaze flickering to your lips for the briefest moment, before he shoved his hands into his leather jacket and stood awkwardly there in the hallway. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Come in,” You offered, grabbing ahold of his arm at his elbow, guiding him inside your apartment. “Sorry about the mess…” You scrunched up your nose as you gestured to the empty beer bottles and the take out boxes sitting on your kitchen counter.
“You got shot, baby… No one’s expecting you to clean your apartment for the likes of me.” Javier assured you, keeping a hand at your back as he helped you over to the sofa.
“Just don’t tell Steve… he’ll tell Connie that I’m drinking with my meds and…” You pushed your fingers through your unbrushed hair, “Well, I’m not taking the Percocet.”
Javier nodded his head understandingly, “You taking anything?”
“Ibuprofen.” You shrugged, adjusting the pillow on the coffee table as you lifted your leg and carefully placed it there. “It works well enough.”
“As long as you’re not in pain,” He said, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he sat down in the chair across from you. “So… how is it really?”
You laughed breathily, rubbing your hand over a spot above the bandage. “I’m miserable.” You admitted. “I miss work. I’m constantly tired, no matter how much sleep I get.”
Javier frowned, “When do you think you’ll be back in the office?”
“Probably after New Years.” You shrugged, rubbing at your forehead as you sank back against the sofa. “I’ve got some PT in a couple weeks. I’ll probably have a week or two of desk duty, but I’ll be back eventually.”
Javier scratched at the back of his neck, “Murphy’s great and all, but… The office fucking sucks without you.”
“I’m flattered,” You grinned. “I’m officially more important than Steve, but still not important enough to call.”
“Fuck.” He breathed out, leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs, staring at a spot on the ground. “I know.”
“Three days and only Connie has called.” You informed him, shaking your head. After waking in the hospital with Javier there, you had stupidly convinced yourself that this had been the precipice of something else. That all these stupid feelings you harbored for him would come to a head… but that meant, he had to reciprocate them, and maybe he didn’t.
Javier dragged his fingers through his hair, exhaling heavily. “I haven’t got an excuse, baby. I know I fucked up.”
“Big time.” You retorted, pursing your lips. “You’re also too far away.” You gestured to where he was sitting. “Is my hair that bad?”
He arched a brow.
“I haven’t washed it since I got home,” You admitted with a grimace. “I’m sure there’s an aroma.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“Well, I’m not supposed to get the bandaging wet and I only have a shower.” You shrugged. “I could do the kitchen sink trick, but my balance isn’t the best currently.”
Javier nodded his head, resting his palms against his knees as he stared across the room at you. His expression was unreadable, but it made a heat bloom in your lower belly that you were quick to tamp down.
It was a Friday night and he was with you.
“I could help.”
“Help me shower?” You snorted. “You’ve gotta buy me dinner before you get me naked, Javi. Sorry to break it to you.”
Javier’s eyes widened and he laughed nervously, “Your hair.” You caught the way his tongue darted out over his bottom lip, the way he shifted in his seat. “I could help you with your hair.”
Fuck.
You smiled warmly at him, “I’m gonna take you up on the offer. My hair is driving me crazy.”
He rose to his feet then, shucking off his leather jacket and tossing it into the seat of the chair. “Shampoo in the bathroom?”
You nodded, “The two-in-one.”
“You’re one of those people?” He snorted, giving you a look before he headed down the hallway to your bathroom. “I don’t know if I can be friends with a two-in-one user.” He remarked as he returned with the bottle and a towel draped over his shoulder.
You flipped him off, “I like the smell.”
Javier popped the lid open, sniffing it. “Smells like cherries.”
“Precisely.” You retorted as you peeled yourself up off the sofa, “And it’s cheap.”
He offered you his arm, letting you lean on him as you limped your way into the kitchen.
“Don’t get shot. It’s not pleasant.”
“I’ll try not to,” Javier chuckled humorlessly as he sat the bottle on the counter beside the sink. “It’s not pleasant seeing your partner bleed out either.” He sighed, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he glanced back at you.
You ran your hand from his forearm, up to his shoulder, “I can’t even imagine.” You whispered, letting your fingers stray higher so you could casually brush them against his cheek. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your quick thinking.”
Javier smiled a little, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
Your lashes fluttered as you let your hand fall away from his face, turning towards the sink. “Try not to drown me.”
“I won’t.”
You reached out and turned the faucet on, holding your hand under the flow as you waited for it to get to the right temperature. “Thank you for this.”
“Whatever you need, baby.” He drawled out as you leaned forward beneath the water, gripping the edge of the sink to brace yourself, taking some of the weight off your leg.
Javier stood beside you, cupping his hand beneath the faucet to splash some water onto the hair at the nape of your neck, fingers playing through your hair, before he squirted some shampoo onto your head.
It felt like heaven. You should’ve prepared yourself for the sensation of Javier’s fingers playing through your hair, the way warmth fanned through every limb, making you ache in a distinct way.
A soft moan escaped you as he massaged his fingers into your scalp. It felt ridiculously good to be touched like that. You managed to stifle the sound — at least you hoped you had.
Javier worked his fingers through your hair, lathering it up before rinsing it clean. You mourned the loss of his touch the moment he shut off the faucet.
You leaned your weight against the edge of the counter as you lifted your head, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your hair. “Now I won’t be an offence to your senses.” You teased lightly as you turned to look at him.
Javier was painfully close to you — so close you could practically feel his breath on your skin. You exhaled shakily as you kept one hand gripping at the counter.
“Javi—“
“We—“
Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. “Am I crazy Javier? I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just…” You closed your eyes for a moment, “Humor me for a moment. Pretend I’m still drugged up, that I won’t remember any of this and just…” You met his intense gaze once more. “Is this all in my head?”
“You’re not crazy.”
You leaned in to him, “I thought I was going to die in your arms and… I was glad it was you.” You admitted, “And then you were there when I woke up and I felt like maybe something had changed.”
“Nothing’s changed.” Javier told you and he reached out to curl his hand around your hip as you shrank at that admission. “I’ve always felt this way about you.”
You inhaled shakily as you looked up at you, “This isn’t just because I almost…” You swallowed your words. Didn’t people feel something profound for the person who was there with them when they almost died?
Javier gave your hip a squeeze as he leaned in closer. His nose brushed against yours, lips so close to yours that you were certain he was going to finally kiss you.
How many times had you pictured kissing him? How many times had you dreamed of moments just like this?
“We shouldn’t.” Javier whispered, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “Work—“
You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Screw work.” You tilted your head, letting your lips gingerly brush against his. It felt like sparks were tingling through your veins.
Javier canted his head to the side, his lips dragging over yours. Your arms slid over his shoulders as you rose up on your toes and sank into the moment.
He pulled you towards him, supporting your weight for you as he kissed you with a quiet desperation that made you wish your fucking leg wasn’t cramping up on you.
“Fuck—“ You tore your mouth away, grabbing at his shoulders for support. “I’ve been upright for too long.”
Javier stole another kiss, before he swept you into his arms, “I’ve got you, baby.”
You pressed your face against his shoulder and laughed as he carried you back into the family room, your wet hair dripping all over his shirt, turning the pink fabric red.
“You’re not going to run now, are you Javier?” You questioned as he helped you get comfortable on the sofa, propping your leg up on a pillow.
Javier hesitated, “Do you want me to stay?”
You gave him a look, “If you know what’s good for you, you should stay.” You patted the sofa beside you. “Please.”
Javier scratched at his jaw, hovering above you for a moment before he sank down onto the sofa beside you. “I don’t know how to do this.” He admitted, rubbing his hands together.
“I mean, it’s not like I’m going to be in the office for the next two and a half months.” You remarked, scraping your teeth over your bottom lip as you studied him. “What do you want?
Javier cleared his throat, his eyes flickering towards you, “You.”
Your heart skipped a beat, “Good.”
“I don’t…” Javier sighed heavily as he reached out and curled his fingers around your hand, rubbing his thumb along the side of your hand. “You know I’m not a relationship type, baby.”
“Did I say anything about a relationship?” You arched a brow. “But I’m not going to keep pretending that I don’t have feelings for you.”
He squeezed your hand. “Yeah?”
You grinned at him, nodding your head. “I don’t need a relationship, but I think we should atleast see what’s here.” You gestured between you.
Javier’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, “I think I can do that.” He rubbed at the side of his neck, shifting on the sofa. “It’s why I didn't call. I didn’t know…” He looked away, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “I clammed up.”
“Well, no more clamming up.” You laughed softly, trying to mask a grimace of pain as you shifted yourself closer to him, turning your leg wrong. You turned towards him, brushing your fingers over his jaw as you nudged him to face you. “No one has to know.”
His eyes searched yours for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed you again. That first kiss hadn’t been a fluke, you felt like every nerve in your body was reacting to the feel of his lips against yours.
You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, practically crawling into his hold — it was awkward and uncomfortable, but worth every second of it.
Javier reluctantly pulled away, breathing heavily as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You’re hurt.”
“I know.” You brushed your thumb over his bottom lip, grinning at him. “But if you only knew how long I’ve waited for this…”
“I bet I could guess.”
“Oh?” You snorted. “Try me.”
He gently dragged his knuckles over your cheek, meeting your gaze, “Records room… after you broke up with Lance.”
Your brows shot upwards, “Then why didn’t you kiss me?”
“We were at work… Steve was right there,” He shrugged a shoulder. “And you were sad and it felt like… I didn’t want to take advantage.”
You rolled your eyes, “You are a good man, Javier.” You told him, stealing one more kiss before you readjusted yourself so you could lay back against him. “I think you’re sitting on the remote.” You told him.
“Sure you don’t want me to leave and give you a call instead?” He teased as he fished the remote out from beneath him, turning the TV on. “What’s been on?”
“The Past Does Not Forgive has been on every night.” You told him, tilting your head to look back at him, “I’ve been dying to hear your thoughts on it.”
“Last time I checked in, I thought Esteban should cut his losses and get the hell out of that situation.” He curled his arm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You turned your head and kissed his cheek, “He’s a fool blinded by love.”
“Aren’t they all.” Javier murmured, nuzzling your shoulder. “This feels right.”
You rested your hand over his, sliding your fingers in between his. “I don’t know what took us so long…”
A phone started ringing, preventing Javier from responding to you. Jarring you awake.
Awake.
You groaned as you pulled yourself upright, your neck aching from the awkward position you’d been laying on the sofa.
You twisted around and grabbed the phone off the cradle, pressing it to your ear, “Hello?”
“Hey—“
“Javier.”
“Did I wake you?”
You grumbled, “Yeah. It’s fine.”
“You should sleep.”
“I’m awake now.” You snapped, squinting your eyes as you looked across the room and glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost midnight.”
Javier cleared his throat, “Yeah…”
“Asshole.” You huffed. “Did you have fun?”
“No.” He sighed, “Went for a drink and came back home.”
“At midnight.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You pinched at the bridge of your nose, “Nothing. I’m just jealous that I can’t go out.” In reality, you felt a spike of jealousy go through you that was centered around the idea of anyone else being the one to kiss Javier.
That dream had done a number on you.
“Are you coming over tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
You rolled your eyes, tucking the phone between your shoulder and ear. “Maybe.” You parroted back. “Can’t give me a definite?”
“I’m gonna try.”
“Alright.” You wished it didn’t come off so harshly, but the undercurrent of annoyance was there. Your stupid dream had left you wanting something you couldn’t have.
There was nothing you wanted more than to be curled up on your sofa with Javier. To spend the next few weeks recuperating with his arms around you. Stealing kisses, savoring moments, and having what you wanted.
You stuffed those emotions back into the box they belonged in.
“Sorry.” You offered gently.
“It’s all good, baby.” Javier murmured. “I’m here for you.”
You smiled to yourself, “I’m here for you too.” And maybe you wouldn’t always be, but at least you were right now.
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the way it was - chapter 32
summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.
rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply
read on ao3
1914
yes you'll be in my heart
from this day on now and forever more
The day the newest member of the Mustang household was born into the world started out just like any other.
Riza, exhausted before it even hit nine o’clock in the morning, hurried their easily excitable daughter to get ready for school as quickly as possible after Roy left for work. They made it to the school gates just in time for Riza to give Mia a quick kiss and for Mia to give Hayate a scratch behind the ears in farewell.
Chuckling, Riza turned away from the school once Mia entered the building. Hayate was whining quietly, sorry to see his best friend disappear for the next few hours.
“Come on, Hayate,” she ushered, signalling for him to walk.
Despite his vocal despair, Hayate obeyed but kept looking behind him to see if Mia would suddenly appear. It had been years, but this was his behaviour every time. Riza didn’t want to see her dog suffering, however it was amusing and warmed her heart to know they shared such a strong bond. Nothing would ever tear those two apart and Riza was grateful for it.
They walked along the pavement towards the centre of town to the large park. It was slow progress. Most days, Riza felt like she was moving through honey, but the doctor assured her that walking was still good exercise and an activity she should be partaking in as much as possible. It may also move the baby on further, which Riza was completely in favour of. She loved their child and didn’t mind being pregnant in the slightest, but she wanted to meet them already. Her ankles weren’t too sore thanks to Roy’s foot rub that morning. However, the pain still plagued her and they were almost always in constant pain in the evenings. Her back pain had finally eased a little, thankfully. Instead of it being short and sharp it was a constant dull ache. Headaches became her most prominent gripe, but Riza felt that was more manageable. As least she could move around more easily with a sore head, compared to back ache.
If Riza could bend down comfortably and let Hayate off the lead, she would. She winced as she twisted, feeling a light cramp in the muscles of her stomach so opted not to push her luck. Instead, Hayate had to walk dutifully by her side on his lead, which he didn’t seem to mind. He wandered and Riza let him, sniffing the edges of the path and foraging through piles of old dead leaves that hadn’t quite disintegrated yet in the winter cold. He never once pulled.
He’s such a good dog, Riza thought fondly as she watched him stop and wait for her to catch up. Once she did, he continued onwards, and this happened throughout their walk like clockwork. Riza enjoyed watching his antics. She loved their little pup.
Once home, Riza sat down on their couch, spent. That discomfort in her stomach was still present but it came in short bouts. As time moved on, the bouts prolonged further, but it was probably just the baby shifting. She’d been warned that would happen as she reached her fortieth week of pregnancy, and the same had happened with Mia as well. Until the pain came, Riza would try not stress herself out too much.
It was really nice, Riza realised, not to have coursework to go through while Mia was at school. After achieving her certification, her days opened up completely. Riza didn’t know what to do with herself having so much free time. She’d need to find something new to fill her focus, but while waiting on Baby Mustang to be born, she allowed herself a break. Once the baby arrived it would be all hands on deck and she’d probably not sleep properly for months. Roy reasoned with her to enjoy the peace while she could.
The first contraction hit, waking Riza from the light sleep she’d fallen into on the couch. It was uncomfortable, the sharp pain lasting only a few seconds. Heart thudding inside her chest, Riza pulled herself off the couch just in time for her water to break.
“Uh…” Never had a more eloquent sound come out of Riza’s mouth in that moment as she stared down at the puddle of water on the carpet. “Oh… Shit.”
That was quick.
Hayate looked down at the puddle. Riza was afraid he’d come over and sniff or drink it. Then he looked up at her, cocking his head to the side.
Another contraction hit, painful and leaving her breathless. Clutching her abdomen, Riza breathed through it while Hayate whined at her feet. His ears pulled back as he stared up at her, distressed by Riza’s current state.
“It’s all right, boy,” she panted. Sweat trickled down her temple, making her swipe at it irritably.
He was hot in her heels as Riza hobbled over to the phone.
“Colonel Mustang,” Roy greeted professionally once Riza had made her way through the process of the operator.
“Roy,” Riza greeted. She opened her mouth to continue when another contraction hit. Riza gasped as a sharp pain shot through her. The timing was ‘perfect’ and she rolled her eyes before they squeezed tightly closed and grit her teeth.
“Riza?” He was instantly alarmed, proving Riza’s assumption correct. She would have liked to get out what was happening to her first before Roy heard her groan in pain. It would only make him fret.
“I’m fine,” she choked out, clenching her jaw hard. “I’m all right. It’s the baby, Roy. My water just broke.”
“Holy shit.”
Riza burst out laughing but it quickly turned to a hiss of pain.
“Oh, shit, um… Right.” He was flapping on the other side of the phone, flustered after her sudden announcement. Just like Riza had predicted.
“Roy, I’ll get you at the hospital,” Riza told him.
“What?” He squawked at her, horrified at her suggestion. “I’m coming home to get you!”
“I’ll get Chris to come. She’s closer,” Riza reasoned.
They’d already had this conversation, which Roy agreed to. When faced with the sudden appearance of his child Roy was freaking out. All sense of reason had gone out the window.
Riza’s breathing finally evened out as the wave of pain passed. Her shoulders sagged in relief. Riza tried to catch her breath as she leaned against the wall beside her heavily.
“Riza –”
“Go to the hospital,” she urged him, stressing the importance of that command. “I’ll see you there.”
“Riza!”
“Roy, for God’s sake, just go!” Riza cried. “It makes no difference who takes me!”
“But –”
“Go,” she almost growled. “You being there is more important than making me wait longer for you to pick me up.” There was a short, sharp stabbing pain once more. Her fingers dug into the skin of her stomach as her eyes squeezed tightly closed. “At this rate, the kid may be born here if you don’t stop arguing with me and get off the phone.”
“Right. Okay.” He sounded calmer now that he had direction. It also sounded like he was psyching himself up to make the journey. “All right. See you soon. I love you.”
“Love you too, Roy,” she smiled, hiding her gasp behind a harshly bit lip until she heard the click of him hanging up. Once he had, a loud groan of pain left Riza’s lips, but she still reached with shaking fingers to dial Chris’ number.
“Chris? My water broke,” Riza panted into the phone.
“On it,” Chris barked, and there was the sound of movement. “See you in ten minutes.”
She hung up.
Quick and efficient, that’s what Riza needed.
* * *
Riza batted her eyes open and was greeted with the sight of a hospital room. Every muscle in her body felt sore, strained and fatigued after the few hours of labour she’d endured. There wasn’t much strength left in her to lift her head off the pillow, so she rolled it in place, moving from one side of the room to the other.
In the chair by her bedside, Roy was snoring gently. He looked as exhausted she felt, head tipped over the back of the chair with his nose pointed straight up to the ceiling. He would probably have a crick in his neck when he awoke. His legs were sprawled out, hanging wide open, the muscles completely relaxed. Arms were hung over the sides of the chair.
Their new-born child rested in the tiny crib beside Roy. One of his hands gripped the railing of the crib as he dozed, desperate for that connection between himself and his son.
Son…
Riza smirked tiredly, remembering the mop of black hair she’d seen on her son’s head before he was whisked away to be cleaned up by the nurses. Their little one had given her such a hard time after her water broke, that once he was born, meeting him was a blur before quickly falling asleep in her exhaustion. The last thing Riza remembered seeing was their child resting upon her chest as Roy looked on, tears in his eyes but a massive grin on his face.
Throat dry, Riza cleared it, feeling a scratch of pain. Smacking her lips, she thought about how desperate she was for a glass of water.
Roy snorted, sitting upright and blinking tiredly. He muttered her name, still looking half asleep before eyes fluttered closed once more. A deep sigh left his lungs as he settled back into the chair with an uncomfortable grimace.
Unable to help herself, Riza laughed. However, her throat was so dry and irritated, it caused her to break out into a coughing fit.
“Riza?” Blinking blearily, Roy forced himself to focus on her.
Offering him a tired wave Riza silently reassured her husband she was fine.
“Riza!” In a flash, Roy was upright and leaning towards her. He grasped the hand closest to him tightly, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her palm as a comfort. “What do you need? Is there anything I can get you?”
“Water,” she requested.
His warmth left her hand as both reached towards her head, but off to the side. On the bedside table, apparently there had been a pitcher of water left. Riza hadn’t even noticed or seen it. Not that she had enough strength to turn her head that far to see.
It dribbled down her chin, pooling in the hollow of her neck, but it was cool and refreshing nonetheless. Roy wiped away the excess liquid carefully and settled back into his chair, a tired, yet immensely proud smile on his face.
Riza took in his appearance. Her labour had been relatively quick compared to Mia’s. Within a few hours she’d birthed Baby Mustang and brought him into the world. Still, Roy looked drained and Riza had expected as much. Upon her arrival, he’d been flapping again, both stressed for Riza and frantic on her behalf. It was his first time going through it so she still worried. He’d been working himself up into a frenzy as Riza rode out her contractions. Chris managed to keep him calm when Riza couldn’t which she was thankful for. She thought he might faint in the delivery room, but Roy didn’t. He managed to keep himself upright and present for her, patting the hand that was holding him in a death grip.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” Riza answered, cracking a smile, “but I’m happy.”
“Me too,” he beamed.
“Where is he?”
“Right here, Riza.”
Roy wheeled the crib over to her bedside, moving it between himself and the bed.
Her head wouldn’t lift for long off the pillow, causing Riza to huff in frustration. But, after a quiet chuckle from Roy, he stood and leaned over, supporting her had as she gazed down at her child. Easily, he slipped in behind her and the pillows, taking all her weight. Riza’s abdominal muscles ached but she pushed through. Her child was more important than her pain.
Baby Mustang was perfect. His face and body were tiny. His little fingers were gathered into his palm, resting up by his face against his rosy cheek. His smallest finger twitched, elongating for a moment, before curling back in with the others. Riza’s entire body melted at the sight of him. That mop of black hair stuck up on end with static as it rubbed against the sheet in his crib. The white swaddle was tight against his tiny body, making him seem so much smaller than he was.
“He’s amazing,” Riza choked out. She laughed, wiping away a tear as she groaned.
“What?” Roy laughed along with her, tears in his own eyes as he gazed lovingly down at her and rubbed her upper arm affectionately.
“With Mia I was a sobbing mess after giving birth,” Riza chuckled. “It seems it will be happening again,” she sniffed.
Roy laughed. “You’re allowed to be, I think,” he murmured. “He’s worth crying over…” He trailed off and Riza watched as Roy stared down at the baby, completely in awe of what he was seeing.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Riza whispered, moving her eyes so she was staring down at Baby Mustang too. Her head tipped to rest against Roy’s cheek. A tight pressure on her fingers distracted her for a second.
“Me too,” Roy whispered, eyes shining as he lifted her hand to his lips. A hard kiss was pressed to the back of it.
“What shall we call him?”
They’d discussed names. One stuck out for Riza the most, but she wanted Roy to admit it and accept it completely himself before she pushed the idea. It was fitting, naming their son after their late friend, Riza thought. A lovely homage. Whether Roy committed to it or not, Riza wanted to see. She hoped he would because she knew how much it would mean to him.
Roy swallowed thickly as he gazed down at their son. He was silent, struggling to come up with his answer. Patiently, Riza followed suit and simply stared at Baby Mustang so she could marvel at his tiny fingers and nose, giving Roy all the time he needed.
“I know what you want to call him,” Roy whispered.
“Is it so wrong?”
Roy shook his head. “Not wrong. Not at all,” he reassured. “But…”
“What, Roy?” Her prompt was gentle. Before the birth she purposefully hadn’t brought it up because she didn’t want to upset him. However, they needed to get to the bottom of it before it was too late. Riza didn’t want there to be any regrets.
“I don’t know if I can name him after Maes,” Roy admitted quietly.
“Why not?” She was genuinely curious. What were his reasonings?
“It… I don’t know,” he admitted in defeat.
“You can tell me,” Riza urged.
“I know but…” His breath sounded strangled before he cleared his throat. “I don’t know… It feels like it’s too much,” he mumbled.
“We named Mia after your mother,” Riza reminded him.
“I know,” he admitted. “So it’s your turn to choose who we name him after.” He was trying a different tactic.
Riza shook her head. “There’s no one in my family worth naming our son after.”
Roy huffed.
“It will be a lovely homage to your brother,” she whispered. Riza gripped his fingers tightly to give them a quick squeeze.
Roy cleared his throat, his spine straightening. He blinked the tears from his eyes and sighed heavily in acceptance.
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I’ve ever been,” Riza nodded.
Roy glanced at her out the side of his eye.
“I’ve known this would be what it would boil down to if we had a son,” Riza admitted. “I have no issue at all with it, so long as you're happy with the choice.”
He tried to cover up his tears by clearing his throat again. He shifted, gripping onto Riza tightly as he stared down at baby Maes. A choked sob left him, which Roy also tried to hide, but the second one was impossible to restrain. Soon, tears were falling down his cheeks.
Riza grinned at him.
“Welcome to the word, baby Maes,” she cooed quietly as Roy sniffed and nodded in agreement beside her. He was unable to speak.
* * *
“He’s named after Uncle Maes?” Mia’s voice was barely above a whisper as she gazed down at Maes in his baby carrier. Her eyes were wide as she tried to take in every detail of her baby brother. She’d already stated his tiny fingers were her favourite thing about him.
Riza nodded. “He is.”
“That’s so cool… Was I named after anyone?”
Roy cocked his head then grimaced. “You were,” he replied carefully, “but I’ll tell you all about that once we get Mum and Maes settled.”
Announcing that she was named after her grandmother would confuse their six-year-old, so Riza understood Roy’s hesitation. According to Mia, Chris was her grandmother and had been for her entire life. It wasn’t worth confusing her just now without an opportunity to explain properly so Mia would understand.
“Okay!” Her grin was back on her face as she skipped after her father. Since meeting Maes she hadn’t ventured far from his side, desperate to keep her eyes on him.
Vanessa helped Riza inside the house, grasping her elbow lightly for support just in case. She’d been too tired to reassure that she was fine and could walk by herself, so let her sister-in-law guide her inside.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” Vanessa looked at Riza expectantly, awaiting direction.
“The couch is fine,” Riza answered. She wasn’t quite ready to leave her family just yet.
Mia meeting Maes was one of the most adorable things Riza had ever seen. She’d gasped so quietly, creeping over to look at him, silent as a mouse, afraid to disturb him. Riza melted as she watched on, feeling tears prick the corner of her eyes. She was so considerate of him already. Now that they were home, she was hovering over his baby carrier once more in the centre of the room. All she did was stare at him in wonder.
“Need anything Riza?”
She shook her head before shooting Roy a grateful smile.
“Would you like a coffee?” Roy extended the offer to Vanessa.
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
Riza was eased onto the couch with the help of Vanessa. Once she was seated, her sister-in-law flipped her hair out of the way before looking expectantly back at Riza.
“Do you need anything? Any more cushions?”
“No, I’m all right. Thank you though, Vanessa. For all your help.”
“Of course,” she beamed. “It’s no problem, you know that.”
Vanessa had stepped in to help them home from the hospital. It was no secret that Venessa and Riza had ‘become’ friends during their time frequenting the Ladies Night at Christmas’ Bar. It would raise no suspicion if a friend helped Riza and Roy make their way back home from the hospital. Chris had left after meeting Maes. Riza was sure she’d seen tears in the gruff woman’s eyes but didn’t announce it. Secretly, Riza grinned to herself with the observation. The woman loved her grandchildren very much.
Mia was silent as the adults talked in the room, completely focussed on her brother. But Maes started to fuss quietly as Vanessa was finishing off her coffee and Mia started to worry.
“Mum?” Her voice was full of fear as she stared wide-eyed down at him.
Maes swiped a hand at his cheek after he yawned, face screwing up as he made tiny noises of discomfort.
“I got it,” Roy answered immediately, standing from his armchair. His mug was placed on the floor as he strode over, crouching down beside Mia.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing bad, Mia,” Roy reassured with a light laugh. “He’s maybe a little uncomfortable.”
“Can I help?”
Vanessa cooed in the background.
“He might need to be changed, or he might be hungry. I’ll go and find out what he needs,” Roy explained. “Thank you for offering though, Mia. That’s very kind of you.”
Lifting Maes into his arms, Mia watched on, wringing her hands together.
“She’s adorable,” Vanessa leaned over to whisper.
“She is, isn’t she?”
“Mia Bear loves her brother,” Vanessa giggled. “Your kids are so adorable.”
Riza beamed.
“He needs changed,” Roy announced. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Mia walked to the door with her father but stopped on the threshold. Roy continued onwards to head up the stairs to Maes’ room.
“Mia?”
She turned, biting her lip.
“Come over here,” Riza beckoned, opening her arms.
Mia clambered onto the couch as her Aunt Vanessa scooted over. She cuddled into Riza’s chest, her hands clinging onto her shirt.
“What’s wrong?” Stroking her forehead always managed to calm her, so Riza brushed her fingers across her skin to try and ease Mia’s fears.
“I’m worried about Maes,” Mia admitted in a whisper.
“Why? He’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with him.”
“But he’s so tiny!” she exclaimed. “And he looked upset. I don’t want him to be upset.”
“Babies cry, Mia,” Riza explained, cuddling her daughter close. “Maes will be doing a lot of that from now on. He can’t speak yet so that’s how he tells us something is wrong.”
“Did I cry a lot?”
“You did,” Riza grinned. “You woke us up through the night all the time.”
She pulled away, horrified.
“That’s what babies do,” Riza shrugged. Lifting a hand to her hair, Riza reorganised Mia’s mussed up fringe and smoothed it down. Her hand trailed down to cup her cheek, the other booping her on the nose. Mia giggled, squirming away.
“Do you think he’ll wake me up?”
“We’ll try very hard to make sure he doesn’t. Maes will be sleeping in our room for a little while so hopefully he doesn’t. If he does, Dad and I will help him. You can just go back to sleep,” Riza reassured.
Nodding in acceptance, Mia relaxed against the cushions. Fondly, Vanessa patted the top of her head, running her hand through Mia’s ponytail. It was reorganised on her back, trailing down her spine. It had grown longer since her birthday, falling in between her shoulder blades now.
“Mum and Dad will do everything to make Maes happy, just like they do for you,” Vanessa reassured cheerily.
“They do make me very happy,” Mia agreed, assuring her aunt that was the case.
Riza laughed. “I’m glad, Mia Bear. You and Maes make us the happiest people on the planet.”
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The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes
Chapter 67: A Promising Future
A glare coming from the window beside him might have been the saddest sight he'd ever seen in his entire life. Hiding the dagger had been freeing. Yesterday, the day that followed, had been wonderful. Last night had been exquisite. But this morning, mere hours ago, had been quite possibly the happiest moment of them all. And she'd missed it.
He'd woken to use the bathroom, asked her politely, and managed to stir her enough so that she would roll over for him. When he returned, he settled back into the bed, glanced over to her, whispering her name so that she'd know he was there and ready for her again…
And then it happened…
He caught a flash of her brown hair on the pillow, her bare shoulder poking out from under the sheet. And then she turned, revealing her face to him, her head rested on his shoulder as it always did, her arm wrapped around his chest. Without giving himself permission, while feeling utterly bewildered already, he reached down to grab her hand, checked that she was still asleep, and saw her smile. A familiar smile. One that he knew…because he'd seen it before.
This was the vision, the one that had tormented him for years before he'd seen the second half of it. The woman in his bed with brown hair…he'd convinced himself that one time he'd seen Belle's face in it had been a dream, a fantasy. But it played out now just like it always had. It was the outcome he hadn't expected but always wanted. The best thing he could have hoped for, and as she stayed quietly asleep on his chest, he felt himself clutch her tighter to him while he began to cry.
This was what was always meant to happen, what the Seer had seen and told him about ever since he'd acquired her powers of foresight. A woman that was meant for him and him alone. Beautiful, stunning, the only one that he wanted.
He wanted to marry her.
He wasn't even sure where that thought or that desire came from. It had come on so quickly. There were a million reasons he should have rejected that notion, a million reasons he should be convincing himself that he couldn't let her make a commitment like that to him, and yet…he wanted to marry her. He wanted this. All his life. Forever. Every day and every night, he wanted to wake up with her folded into him just like this. He wanted to call her his wife. He'd never wanted to call a woman wife in all his life. Not until now. He wanted to put the best ring he had in his shop on her finger, wanted to have one himself that announced to the world that he belonged to her.
Not today. Now wasn't the time. There were other things he wanted, other things he needed to do, like test his potion and find Baelfire, before he could ask her to marry him. But he wanted to. And somehow, he knew, one day he would. One day he would ask her to marry him, to make him a husband again and give him the chance to do things right, the way they were supposed to be done. Maybe they'd find a way to break his curse now that the ties he'd put on it were stronger. Maybe one day they'd have that baby that he'd imagined in her arms all those years ago.
But not today.
The room lightening indicating that morning was approaching, called him out of his thoughts. Baelfire called for him. As much as he wanted to close his eyes, go back to sleep, and live these last couple of days all over again, he knew that he couldn't. To begin with, there was too much going on in town. With the murder of the cricket and Regina on the run, he'd need to check-in, to take stock of what was going on. And as much as he loved spending time with Belle, Bae still needed him. He'd spent enough time indulging in the two of them; his son needed attention too. Besides, if they stayed in bed like this together forever, at some point, it would lose its attraction. Although he was sure they could go on for a week or two, it was best to save up their energy. It would feel just as good the next time they got to do this as it had over the last few hours. He hated it, but he had to go.
"Beautiful Belle," he whispered against her. She stirred, but only just barely. Enough for him to know that she was in the shallows of consciousness when she curled around him. He recalled how possessive she'd been the last time this had happened. She was going to make this difficult again.
"It's morning, Sweetheart."
"Don't leave yet," she muttered against her.
He squeezed her tight and kissed her head. She was going to make it hard indeed.
"I don't want to go either. But want and need are two very different things. And if I don't go now, I don't think I'll be able to leave you later."
He expected more argument. He braced himself for the way she might cling tighter to him or engage him again in an activity she knew he wouldn't refuse. But instead, she sighed heavily, gave him a small squeeze of her own, raised herself up to kiss him again, and then rolled over to the other side of the bed, releasing him from her grasp.
She turned her back and practically clung to the edge of "her side." He would have thought that she was upset with him, but he understood the motion. If she didn't get away from him, she was likely to roll over and pull him back to her. And if he didn't get up now, he was likely to roll over and hold her close again, taking another day from Baelfire. No, it was time to go.
He picked himself up and hung on the side of the mattress, trying to locate the place his blasted cane had landed. There, by the foot of the bed, after they'd showered yesterday and climbed back into bed. He hobbled over, grabbed his cane, and went about fetching what he needed. He drank a glass of water, started some muffins for himself and later for her. He turned on the water in the shower and struggled through a shower as hers wasn't equipped with a rail to hold himself up with his injury, acknowledging that showers were a lot more fun when they were doing it together. Then again, everything was more fun when they were together. Maybe, later, she could drop by the store, and they could spend some time together as he worked, then he wouldn't be missing anything. He didn't have to choose between Bae and Belle.
How was this going to work? How was he going to be Bae's parent and put him ahead of everything when she was so close by, and he just wanted to spend all his time with her? How did men do this naturally? How did they master the ability to be father and lover all at once? Hell, how did they manage to be fathers, lovers, friends, brothers, sons, and a million other things all at once?! He was haven't enough trouble with two!
He stepped out of the shower and quietly moved around the room. Not that it was necessary to be quiet. She was awake, her eyes were heavy with a deep desire for sleep, but she was still watching him as he moved, removed the baked muffins, and dressed in one of the suits he'd brought over yesterday. Maybe he should bring more over. He sure as hell wasn't going to let her spend nights here alone, knowing what was going on with Regina. Besides, he liked the little apartment. It was close to town, it was simple, and it was enough for the two of them. Hell, the only reason he liked having a big house was for its status. He'd trade having her in her tiny apartment for his empty house any day of the week. And he liked having clothes here.
"I'm happy you stayed," she whispered into the room as he buttoned his clean shirt.
"Not as happy as I am," he muttered back, turning up his collar. He felt clean, but he'd take that sweaty thick smell of sex and a day with her over feeling clean and fresh any day of the week. She rolled and grabbed something over his side of the bed, rewarding him with a tempting view of the small of her back before he saw what she'd reached for. The tie he'd been wearing a couple of days ago. It hadn't wrinkled, miraculously, and it would look better than the one he'd chosen for this one. He slid the vest on over his shoulders as he hobbled over to join her on the bed. He sat down, and she sat up, placing the tie around his neck as she might a scarf or a crown. He was trying not to notice her breasts. Or the fact that she didn't feel the need to drag a sheet up over herself anymore. He did the easy, but unknown to her, knot to tie the tie, and she smoothed it over him before buttoning the vest over it.
"Thank you," he muttered, amazed at how good it felt just to have her help him dress instead of undress. Maybe they were there. He allowed himself to reach out and place his hand against her cheek, then over her shoulder and down her arm to reach for his hand. She held it tight between her own and smiled regretfully and longingly as she looked him over.
"You still look tired," she pointed out.
"I am," he admitted. "But if I don't leave now-"
"I understand," she whispered. Still, the idea of being away from her even for an hour or so after these last few days was painful. He didn't like it.
"Can I see you tonight?"
"I promised Ruby I'd meet her at the diner tonight," she muttered sadly. "Archie's funeral is tomorrow."
He nodded, realizing that she was right. His sense of the last few days was off. Hour after hour blended together with only memories of her and him and-
"But, maybe…maybe when all this madness with Archie and the Evil Queen is over…maybe the two of us could go up to the cabin again?" she suggested, cocking her head to the side as if hoping he'd say "yes." "Maybe we could go for a long weekend?"
"Maybe a week," he offered, shocking even himself as she broke out into a smile.
"I would enjoy that."
"As would I." Taking a day or two off was one thing; a week was an entirely different affair, but…for her, he'd do it. He'd do it and enjoy it. But a trip like that would have to come after he had Baelfire back after he found him. At least it was something to look forward to if finding his boy didn't turn out as he hoped. There was always her.
"But we should talk about it later," he urged, realizing it was growing late, and she was looking nearly as tired as he felt. "You still look tired too."
"I had a busy day."
Even he blushed at that comment, of the memory of saying nearly those very words to her when he'd excused not leaving her side yesterday morning. A busy day and two nights, time together they hadn't had for what felt like an eternity. His mouth went dry as he looked at her, as he took in her lack of dress and the tousle of her hair, the way the last thirty-six hours hung in the air between them and tempted him to pull off his jacket, yank back the sheets around her waist and-
He was kissing her before he knew it, pulling her closer, letting his hands wander over her body. The way she pressed into him would have made it easy to give in for yet another day, but the memory of her tired face managed to work its way into his mind and urged him away from her. She needed rest before she went out tonight. And he needed to get to work if he ever wanted that week in the cabin to come. When it did, they could have an entire week of this, of never leaving their bed.
"Later," he managed to promise himself sadly.
"Later," she confirmed. What a wonderful reward it would be. And until then…
"Lay back," he ordered firmly, bracing himself for the sight before she listened and worked her way back into the bed. He covered her, first with the sheet, then when blankets, and finally with her comforter, tucking her in while her breathing evened and her eyes grew heavy again. Finally, he leaned down and kissed her one last time, something she returned lightly from her place on the edge of sleep.
"Sleep well, my darling Belle," he whispered. He could have sworn she nodded before he left.
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Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 46)
Title: Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 46)
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader
Author: @sheerfreesia007
Words: 1,403
Warnings: None? There’s mention of pain but not much else.
Tags: @synystersilenceinblacknwhite, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @randomness501, @sevvysaurus, @paryl, @fioccodineveautunnale, @talesfromtheguild, @secretsihideinside
Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711
Author Notes: I struggled with this one. :/ I didn’t have the drive to write for a few days and I feel like this isn’t the best it could be. It’s a filler chapter so not much happens but we get some more Tequila time, which is always nice. :) I hope you enjoy it. (Also that Comic Sans font post that’s floating around tumblr is true I used the idea to help me write this.)
Gif Credit: Google
Huffing softly you grimace in discomfort as your knee twinges in pain. You’re on your knees hovering over a plastic tote filled with all of your holiday decorations and you’re trying to stretch your right knee out in front of you. Hissing in pain you sit back on your ass and your hands immediately move to your knee. Massaging the skin above it first you huff softly trying to breathe through your nose like your physical therapist taught you.
Your apartment door opens and you watch as Tequila enters only to stop in the doorway with a furrowed brow. He then moves quickly to crouch down next to you with concern filled eyes.
“How can I help?” he asks softly holding his hands above you wanting to help but not knowing how to.
“Massage the muscles on the top of my calf while I massage these.” You explain as you show him your hands. “It’s cramping on me.” You say softly.
Tequila does as you tell him and begins to massage the muscles at the top of your calf and you groan in relief. His larger hands are much better at digging into your muscles and the relief is almost instantly.
“Fuck, that’s good.” You hiss softly and Tequila chuckles. “If this whole secret agent gig doesn’t work out go into massage therapy you’d make a killing.” You said half seriously and Tequila laughs loudly.
“Sure thing Cur.” He says good-naturedly. “Why don’t I get you situated on the couch and you tell me what else needs to be packed up?” Tequila suggests lightly as you slowly stop massaging your muscles. Nodding your head you hold your hands out to him and he slowly lifts you to stand on your feet. He hands you your cane and you hobble over to the couch before sinking down into it.
“Most of it is packed up Whiskey helped me with most of it the past few weeks but there’s still the kitchen I have to finish cleaning out. I was saving that for last not knowing if I would be staying here or at Whiskey’s ranch.” You explained and Tequila nodded before grabbing some moving boxes and newspaper that you had saved up from everyone at HQ. You got to taping the boxes and setting them out in front of you as Tequila began bringing in the glassware, dishes and glasses.
“Doesn’t Whiskey have all of this stuff at his apartment in New York?” Tequila asked as he sat next to you and began wrapping plates in newspaper.
“Yeah, but his stuff is much older than mine so he wanted to donate his stuff and use mine in New York. Besides he likes my glasses better than his.” You explained as you held up your rounded cups and Tequila laughed shaking his head.
“Of course he does.” He murmured softly. “So are you all done with your doctor appointments here now? And you’re just going to transfer to your new doctor in New York?” he asked.
“Well I’ve got a few more therapy sessions to get through before I’m done with those. But I’ve only got one more visit to the knee surgeon and only a handful more physical therapy appointments.” You answered easily shrugging.
“And it’s all healing up nicely? I’ve seen you around HQ with the cane and I gotta say you wield that thing like you did the frying pan the last time we were on a mission.” He said jokingly and you laughed nudging him in the shoulder.
“Yeah the doctor has said he’s pleased with my recovery and the physical therapist is brutal but it’s helping. I’ve only had one or two bad days this week with my knee and that’s much better than where I was a month ago.” You say as Tequila nods in understanding.
“Well that’s good. I’m glad you’re healing well. We all miss you at HQ and we’re sad to see you go.” He said somberly and you turn to look at him feeling the hairs on the back of your neck starting to rise. You had a twisting feeling in your gut as you watched him suddenly wary of him. “Ya know Ginger is real sorry about the mission-“ he began to explain when your hearing cut out.
You felt your lungs start to constrict and you balled a fist against your left thigh at the mention of her name. You were instantly transported back to that alleyway where Alexi had his beefy arm wrapped around your neck and you stared into Ginger’s scared cowardly eyes. Your whole body suddenly felt chilled and frozen as you remember the feeling of dread overcome your body as you watched her turn and run from the alleyway. The feeling of Alexi’s hot breath ghosting over your skin as he laughed darkly in your ear was still there on your skin and you flinched away from Tequila on the couch.
It was that flinching movement that managed to pull you out of the trance like state that you were flung into, as your knee twisted in agony and you moaned softly gripping it with your hand. Tequila was instantly on his feet hovering around you and you just held your hand up to ward him off.
“I’m sorry I didn’t-“ he began to apologize but you cut him off with a hard glare.
“Why would you bring her up?” you snapped at him angrily and he looked at you in surprise. “You know I don’t trust her, can never trust after she turned and ran leaving me for dead.” You hissed as the anger inside of you began to rise.
“Cur, I didn’t mean-“ Tequila began to explain and you cut him off again.
“I don’t care what you meant to do Tequila.” You said coldly as you glared at him. “I still have nightmares because of what she did. I have nightmares that she’s on their side helping them torture me. I don’t care if she’s sorry or not for what she did. I never want to see her or talk about her again, understand?” you stated firmly and Tequila stared at you in shock.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve known you wouldn’t want to talk ‘bout her. I’m so sorry.” He said softly and you nodded your head watching as he sat in front of you on the floor. “You still have nightmares?” he asked softly.
“Last one was the night before. They’re worse when Whiskey is gone.” You said sullenly and Tequila nods his head. “I can never trust her for what she did Tequila. She left me at their mercy and they almost broke me. I would never wish what they did to me on anyone. I trusted her to have my back in the field and she didn’t.” you explained softly and Tequila nodded his head.
Tequila came up to sit next to you on the couch and scooted as close as he could to you before wrapping his arms low on your waist. He hugged you close to his body and you sighed softly as you fell into his body taking the comfort he was offering.
“I’m sorry. I won’t bring her up again until you say it’s ok.” He said softly to you and you nodded your head against him as the two of you leaned back into the couch just relaxing in the silence in your apartment. “It’s gonna hell without you here.” He said softly and you smiled solemnly as you turned into his chest and wrapped your arms around him.
“I’m gonna miss you.” You said softly almost sorrowfully. Tequila instantly picked up on your tone and tightened his arms around you.
“I’m just glad you’re going to be with someone who will make sure you’re okay and will take care of you when I can’t.” he said softly. “Plus now I get to come and visit you in that swanky New York apartment more.” You burst out into delighted laughter at his words and shook your head as you smiled at him.
The two of you didn’t get much packing done that day as the two of you just relaxed in each other’s arms on your couch for most of the day just taking some time to just exist in each other’s presence. It was probably the most wholesome and bonding time you had ever spent with Tequila.
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