#same with doctors and jobs and friends I’ll never have shit! I’ll just suffer and suffer and suffer until I die!
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I’ll never get the right medicine or right therapist for my problems, I’ll never heal. I’ll get worse and worse until I kill myself.
#same with doctors and jobs and friends I’ll never have shit! I’ll just suffer and suffer and suffer until I die!#bpd#avpd#bipolar 2#borderline personality disorder#bpd feels#npd#ppd#unspecified personality disorder#cluster a#cluster b#aspd#cluster c
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Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley
IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.
Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff
Words: 8k
A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.
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Masterlist
There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.
A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.
Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.
“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.
Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.
“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family.
The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.
“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.
You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.
“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”
“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”
“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.
“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.
Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.
“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.
It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped.
“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.
“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”
Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.
“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.
“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.
Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family.
“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.
“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”
You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes.
“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.
“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.
“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”
“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.
“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.
“They’re safe.”
“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.
Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.
“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.
One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.
At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”
Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”
“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.
The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”
Each word broke Bobby more and more.
“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”
“Y/N-”
“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.
Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.
You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.
Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.
Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.
In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles.
Los Angeles, 2020
As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.
You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.
“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.
Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”
The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.
“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”
Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”
“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”
“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.
“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.
“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.
“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.
Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”
“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.
“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.
He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you.
“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”
Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.
“Is-”
“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.
“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.”
“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.
There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.
“Where are you and your partner staying?”
“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”
The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”
“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”
“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”
“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”
Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.
“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”
A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.
It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.
“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner.
It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.
“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.
“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.
“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.
“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.
“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.
“Did you ever see a shark-”
“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.
“But-”
“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.
“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.
“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”
“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.
“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.
“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.
“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”
Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.
“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater.
Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.
“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.
“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”
Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.
“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”
Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.
“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.
“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”
Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.
“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”
“I just was-’
“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.
“What I did-’
“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”
A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.
“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.
“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”
“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.
Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.
“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.
“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.
A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.
The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.
“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.
The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.
A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.
“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”
“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.
“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”
For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.
“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.
“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”
“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.
Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.
“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.
“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.
Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”
“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.
“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.
“How many dead-”
“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”
“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”
“Oh-”
“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”
“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.
“Sorry for getting dark there.”
“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.
Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option.
“There’s nothing there for me.”
Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.
“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.
Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.
“Here.”
A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.
“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.
“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”
“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”
The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.
“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”
Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.
“How far along are you?”
Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”
“You’re pregnant, right?”
“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.
“You should tell Buck-”
“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.
“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.
“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”
“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”
As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas.
“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”
“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”
“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”
Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”
“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”
Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”
Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.
“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”
“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”
Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”
“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”
Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.
“I can take her.”
Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.
“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”
“I couldn’t put you out.”
“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”
“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.
“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”
Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.
The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide.
Ultimately it even led to a test date.
“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.
“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.
Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.
“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.
“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.
“How is Poppy?”
“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.
“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”
A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.
Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.
Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.
“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.
“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.
By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.
“Now one with all three of you.”
Present
“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.
“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.
“You didn’t wear puka sh-”
“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”
“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.
Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.
“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”
“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”
Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”
“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.
Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.
“Has your water broken?”
You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”
With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.
“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.
Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.
“What is it?”
“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.
“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.
“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”
Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.
“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.
“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”
“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”
“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.
“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.
Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.
“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.
“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination.
“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.
“Seriously?”
“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”
“He would have liked you.”
The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.
“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”
That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.
Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother.
“Your parents spoil Poppy.”
“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”
“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”
“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.
“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”
Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.
“Think they’d take the rascal?”
“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.
“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”
Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.
“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”
“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.
“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.
“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”
“Hm. Can we see Dada?”
Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.
“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.
Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience.
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After reading your TenSimm human AU prompt, do you think you’d write a full sized fic about it? It’s such an interesting concept and your writing is so good I know you’d do it justice!
Aaw, thank you! 😊 Well, I'm definitely concentrating on finishing TLV at the moment, so for now I won't promise anything beyond that. But it is an AU I've thought about before, so you can have some further elaboration if you like:
Harold Saxon is the current Minister of Communications, but is running for PM. (He does not run a clean campaign. There’s a ruin of wrecked careers in his wake, although you wouldn’t know it for the veneer of friendly charm he wears like a second suit. At least he’s popular with the people, if not any of his own colleagues.)
A big part of his campaign is the promise to reform education funding. He wants to flog that horse one more time before general election, hence the on-air interview he’s agreed to with some ragtag group of whining teachers. There’s certainly no way that can backfire spectacularly.
Donna Noble is his long-suffering PA. (She started as a temp in his office, and it was only ever supposed to be filing and coffee runs. In no way did she intend to sign on to be the unofficial babysitter of a sociopath politician just because she was the only one too stubborn to flinch every time he walked into a room.)
She’s never been particularly impressed by the whole ‘Iago with a Blackberry’ vibe he has going on, and isn’t shy about giving him shit for it. What’s he going to do? Blackmail her? She’s never done anything important enough to bother hiding. Fire her? Fine, she’s a professional temp, she’ll have something else by Tuesday. Bribe her? He’s already paying her more than she’s ever made - and way more than Neris is on, which is the most important thing.
John Smith is a high school Science teacher. (He’s actually massively overqualified for the job. The original plan was to be a professor - he has a doctorate and everything! - but there was a bit of academic quibbling over his thesis on theoretical time-travel, since apparently his so-called peers don’t have a visionary bone in their bodies. Anyway. Turns out teenagers are far more receptive to the wonders of scientific innovation. If you catch them on a good day.)
Clara Oswald is the English teacher at the same school, and his best friend. (Although they’d had a rocky start, initially. She’d been sceptical of his excessive qualifications and the arrogance he didn’t bother to hide, and he hadn’t liked her standoffishness. Neither of them know quite when the bickering and cheap shots turned into solidarity, but it’s a sharp-edged friendship that works for them.)
When Minister Saxon descends on the school, intent on filming an ego-stroking interview with a selection of teachers, they’re both reluctantly pulled in to the whole affair. (It does not go as well as Minister Saxon had hoped.)
I like to imagine chaotic-irreverent-teacher-John-Smith and corrupt-manipulative-politician-Harold Saxon take a pretty instant dislike to each other, and also, quite inconveniently, fancy each other rotten.
Maybe more than you banked on with this ask, sorry! 😅 I got a little carried away.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever sit down and write a full story for it, so if anyone else wants to play in that sandbox please feel more than free, I’d love to hear any ideas for it.
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The Miracle Question-Bucky Barnes x Reader
(GIF credit to @sebastianruinedme)
Summary: When Bucky doesn’t tell (Y/N) that he missed his appointment, nearly getting into trouble with the government, she becomes furious and upset with him. She demands to have a session with him, wondering if their relationship is as stable as they thought it was, and if it’s actually making Bucky worse. To add to her anger, the new ‘Captain America’ decides to step in.
Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic), John Walker x Reader (acquaintances), Lemar Hoskins x Reader (acquaintances)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
(Y/L/N)=Your last name
Warnings: Mentions of therapy, arguing, slight violence, fluff
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Why would he do something like this and not tell me? He was doing so well with his appointments, and although I knew he wasn't enjoying them, at least he was going so he could get them over and done with. We hardly spoke of them, he was never the one to bring up the topic, it was always me; I just wanted to know how he was doing, I cared for him so much, and it was hurting me to think he wasn't able to open up.
"Sam." I got his attention as I briskly walked into the police station.
"Hey," he could see I was upset, immediately using a calmer tone,"he's alright. His therapist is here, she's got everything sorted."
"But why did it take me watching a video on twitter of my boyfriend being arrested to know about this?"
No one had called. Surely I was one of his emergency contacts? And if I (bizarrely) wasn't, why hadn't Sam called me?
Sam sighed."He didn't want you to know. He missed an appointment he had to go to and-"
"Didn't want me to know?!" I raised my voice, not caring if I grabbed the attention of anyone around us.
Sam held up his hands, trying to quieten me."Look, I'm not getting involved with your personal matters. That's up to you two. Just keep your voice down, we are in a police station."
I scoffed in disbelief."Why didn't he want me to know? He knew I would be angry, but I would never argue about it with him, or make him feel bad about it. I would support him."
"I know you wouldn't, and so does he. Bucky is still getting used to opening up, even with you. He just doesn't want to hurt you."
“Sam,” an older woman interrupted us,“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Doctor Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”
They shook hands.“It’s so nice to meet you.”
Raynor put her attention on me, also shaking my hand.“You must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the girlfriend. I’ve also heard a lot about you.”
“You have? Oh, didn’t think he would talk about me that much.”
“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam quickly interjected.
“Oh, that was not me.”
“Christina!” another voice called out.
We all turned to see who called, and I almost rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. John Walker, the new ‘Captain America’, was headed our way, almost swaggering. People immediately wanted pictures which he agreed to, and although I know Steve might have done the same in some cases, it wouldn’t be a priority for him, nor would he look like was was enjoying it. Although I didn’t want to judge others before knowing them, America had given the title to some random man, forgetting that Steve was not only a hero, but a friend and family to people like us.
“It’s great to see you again.” Walker said as he shook someone’s hand.
“You gotta be kidding me, you know him?” Sam mumbled.
“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.”
“Heard you were working with Bucky so I thought I would step in.” he said as he approached.“Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”
“We haven’t finished our work. Who’s authorised this?”
“Um...” he smiled as he gestured to himself.
Who was he to come in here and change everything? Bucky was doing well in his therapy sessions...or at least I assumed he was, we never spoke about it. And I hated the way he called him ‘Bucky’; only close ones were allowed to call him that.
A loud buzzer sounded throughout the station, and I whipped my head around, relieved to see Bucky walking out with two police officers. I no longer listened to Walker, running towards my boyfriend. He easily caught me as I threw my arms around him, not caring that the policemen escorting him out were watching.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, seeming both worried and annoyed.
“Bucky, you got arrested! I had to come see you, make sure you’re OK. Why didn’t you get someone to call me? Also, why did you miss your session anyway?”
“It’s a long story. And it’s not worth telling.”
“What are you talking about?”
Bucky’s eye line was now on Walker as he shouted over his shoulder,“I’ll be outside.”
Before I could say anything else, Dr. Raynor spoke,“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam and (Y/N).”
“That’s OK. I’ll be out here with-”
She interrupted Sam.“That wasn’t a request.”
Bucky was silent as he slid away, reluctantly following the doctor. I tried holding his hand, but he was making it difficult to even grab it in the first place. My heart sank at the thought of Bucky not wanting me there, not even wanting to be comforted. When these sessions first began, he would come home and want to be held, be comforted; sometimes he asked if he could hold me, just to ensure that I was there with him, that I could feel safe in his arms. That was happening less and less now, it scared me to think he didn’t want this relationship anymore.
We were sat in an interrogation room, Dr Raynor on one side and two chairs on the other. She told Bucky and I to sit first, and that she would deal with Sam later. Nerves suddenly washed over me, petrified of what sort of answers Bucky was going to give.
“OK, so we can all sense a lot of tension in this room. And although I’m going in a slightly unprofessional route, I feel that we all need to do this to ensure you are all OK, that is my job after all. So, who wants to go first?”
She looked between me and Bucky. Part of me wanted to get the confrontation out of the way, perhaps that would make things go quicker and we would get out of here sooner. But my fear held me back.
“No volunteers? Wow, that’s surprising. Okay. We’re going to do any exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what sort of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”
I nodded.“Yes.”
“No.” Bucky answered at the same time.
“OK, it goes like this. Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?”
Shit, that was deep. There’s a million things I could think of that I wanted with Bucky. We used to talk about it all the time. He wanted security in knowing that I wanted a life with him, and I wanted the same, hoping that one day it would happen. Glancing at him, Bucky was slouched in the chair, staring at his hands folded together on his lap. It didn’t look like he was going to be saying anything soon, so I took the first step.
“Um...” I started, unsure how to word this.“I would want to take away any suffering Bucky has gone through, so that he could have a somewhat normal life, and didn’t have to force himself through things like this. No offence doctor. That way he wouldn’t have to feel pressured into opening up and he would tell me anything that was on his mind.”
“That’s a good start.” Raynor slowly said.“And it’s a very sweet sentiment, but it’s what you want, (Y/N).”
“That is what I want. All I want is for Bucky to be happy, I love him.”
“Again, very sweet, I know you care about him very much. But let’s try looking at it a different way. You want your miracle to be that James opens up more. That he lets you into the side of his life you don’t get to see in person.”
“I...I guess.”
“You feel left out of the equation, because James won’t express how he’s feeling?”
“Yeah, when you put it like that, that’s what I want. I want my boyfriend to be able to feel like he can tell me anything, no matter how gruesome, traumatic or even little it is.”
“Right. Glad we got there in the end. OK James, your turn.”
I watched in anticipation for Bucky to speak. What if I had messed things up? What if that was the opposite of what he wanted?
“My miracle would be...not having you involved in that side of things.”
He didn’t even look at me as he spoke. He also didn’t look phased by his answer. So his miracle would be to not have me know about a huge part of his life? He was a hero for god’s sake! Why was he shutting me out? What had I done to deserve this? Had I hurt him in some way that made him feel that he couldn’t talk to me anymore?
“What? Bucky, have I done something to upset you?”
“I just think it would be easier for both of us.”
“You know I’m always here for you, right? We’ve spoke about this before, I don’t understand why you’re only expressing this now.”
Raynor tried to get us back on track.“Alright you two, I think we need to dissect this-”
“I’m sorry doctor but I would like Bucky to elaborate more on this matter, because I’m not fully understanding.”
“What’s not to understand?” he finally looked at me, but I hated this expression. It was as if I had asked the stupidest question in the world.
“Bucky, why are you being like this? You used to tell me about everything, what’s changed?”
He didn’t answer. I just scoffed, hastily grabbing my handbag and coat.
“(Y/N), please sit down.” Raynor asked.
“I can’t. I can’t sit here and wait for an explanation that I’m not going to get. Just focus on the two heroes, I’ll find out about all of this never.”
I rushed out of the room, breathing heavily as I tried not to cry, but my eyes were already watering. Ignoring looks from people in the waiting room, I couldn’t stop myself from starting to cry. Although I had every reason to be upset that my boyfriend wasn’t communicating with me anymore, I also felt slightly guilty for just storming out of there. Maybe we would have resolved it.
“Miss, you OK?”
Oh, I did not want to deal with Walker right now. He would only piss me off.
“Do you need help? We can provide assistance if you need it.”
Although I had wanted to walk away, I knew I should have, my feet were already leading me towards him. I was embarrassed that I was still crying, but I tried to block that from my mind by now. He was leaning against a police car with his friend, who’s name I hadn’t bothered learning.
“You don’t look so good, shall we get a cop to drive you home?”
“Who do you think you are?!” I snapped.
“Well, I’m Captain America-”
“No, you’re someone who thinks they’re anything close to what Steve was. He didn’t go around introducing himself as Captain America, He didn’t care about the title. I understand you’re under a lot of pressure Walker, Steve has a huge legacy to live up to. But don’t you dare come waltzing in expecting those two amazing men to immediately work alongside you like nothing has changed.”
“You got all of that out of your system?”
My eyes widened at him.“Are you serious right now?”
“Look,” his friend butted in,“we just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get mixed up in this. We’re dealing with something major here, it could effect the whole world.”
“Sorry, but who are you?”
He rolled his eyes.“Come on man, how many times? It’s Battlestar.”
My face remained emotionless.
“Lemar Hoskins? You know, the new Captain America with his-”
“I don’t think she cares.” Walker explained.
“You think I don’t know anything about trying to save the world? My friends are part of the Avengers, my boyfriend fought against Thanos. He disappeared in the Blip and I was left by myself wondering if he would ever come back. I’ve been targeted, I’ve seen aliens close up. Nothing could effect me now.”
“Well, I’m sorry you’ve had to endure that.”
“Do you two just not listen to anyone but yourselves?”
“(Y/N), listen,” Walker dared to put his hand on my shoulder,“you’re a normal citizen like us. No super powers, no hidden strength, yet here you are with a super soldier that’s over a hundred years old! I mean, do the maths here, you could have walked away from all this danger. And yet, here you are, by yourself at a police station, whilst your boyfriend cares more about his ‘job’ than making sure you’re safe.”
That was it, the last straw. I slapped his hand off of me, preparing to punch him square in the face, when someone pulled me back.
“No (Y/N)!” Sam raised his voice as he made sure to distance me away from Walker. He quickly stood in between us.
“What did you do, Walker!?” Bucky quickly stormed over.“Did you touch her?!”
Sam was desperately trying to diffuse the situation, knowing that people could be watching.“Bucky, calm down.”
“Did he do anything to you?” Bucky asked me quietly, his hands cupping my face as he looked over me.
My heart raced at the gesture, forgetting for a second that I was upset with him. I shook my head with his hands still on me, and they slid down my arms, one wrapping around my waist to keep me close to him.
“I didn’t touch her Bucky, I was just trying to....you know what, it’s not even important. Can we talk, privately?”
“(Y/N) is staying.”
Walker sighed.“Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”
“So what do you got?” Sam said.
“Well the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”
Lemar spoke up.“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”
“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker added.
“Well, there are a lot of those all over the planet since the Blip.” Bucky pointed out.
“Hundreds probably.” I said.
“So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”
Walker smirked.“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?”
“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”
“No, we don’t know, Bucky.” Walker was agitated.“It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”
Bucky had to push his buttons even more.“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”
Sam came to stand between us and Walker.“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorization you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”
Sam and Bucky turned away, Bucky guiding me with him. Walker called after us.
“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”
I instantly became defensive.“What the hell is that supposed to mean-”
“It’s OK.” Bucky reassured me, making sure I didn’t go back. Frustrated that Walker got the last word, I hesitantly followed my boyfriend.
“Hold up,” Sam stopped us,“I think you two need a quick chat before we delve into anything else. You both know that this is something big, we don’t know what we’re fully dealing with yet or how to fix it. Before we do all of that, you two better resolve whatever happened back there. I’ll be waiting Buck.”
We both watched Sam walk away, unsure how to start this conversation. He clearly showed that he still cared for me back there, but should I still be worried that our relationship was headed in a rocky direction?
“You OK?”
“Honestly? No, not really.”
“(Y/N)-”
“Do you realise how much you hurt me back there? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t speak to me anymore. And about me not being involved; what do you think the last years have been like? I know everything, you’ve expressed so much to me, opened up about your past. Why has that suddenly changed?”
“Because we have a chance now. The world is...relatively back to normal. I got an opportunity to make sure you’re safer, keep all of these nightmares away from you, not pass on my torture to you.”
“Bucky...what have the past years been for? Nothing needs to change. Just because things are getting back to how they used to be, it doesn’t mean we need to forget about the past. If I don’t know what’s going on with you, how can I look after you? How can I help you?”
“You shouldn’t have to do this-”
“I already made that decision when I knew I wanted to be with you. But we can’t revert back to how it was Bucky, not after all the work and effort we put in.”
“I’m sorry. I really thought I could make everything better.”
I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand.“They already were. I know whatever you’ve got yourself into is big, but I’m here for you Bucky, I always will be.”
“I’m sorry again, I’ll make sure I keep opening up to you. That’s the least you deserve.”
I went on my tip toes to kiss him, still worried despite everything he had said. Bucky was still fragile, but now he was on another mission. I wasn’t sure if it was the best thing for him, something for him to focus on. Or it could send him in a spiral, and I wouldn’t know anything about it. I had to stay close to this mission, even if it meant I was in danger. Though what would change there? I had to keep an eye on him, I had to make sure he was OK. I loved him too much to let him slip back into the dark.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes one shot#james buchanan barnes#winter soldier#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier imagines#winter soldier one shot#winter soldier x reader#the falcon and the winter solider spoilers#the falcon and the winter soldier
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𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸, 𝗻𝗼 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆 | 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗼
mobile masterlist | web masterlist
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Jaebeom + Female!Reader
𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: Corporate AU, Mature, Smut, Angst, Enemies to Lovers
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Cursing, sexual content, mentions of trauma
𝗦𝘆𝗽𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: You don't like to think of the word "workaholic" as an insult, but rather as a title of prestige. Everything you have accomplished in your career has been reflected as a glimmering treasure in your trophy case that doted on your work ethic and undying tenacity to put your best effort in everything you have involved yourself in. When you're transferred to what feels just a step away from a demotion, rewritten as an opportunity to "help" the new CEO, you find yourself in a predicament when you realize he's an unbearable nuisance.
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 10,072
𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: This chapter took forever to write, for literally no reason at all.
[ chapter one ]
The coffee tastes like water.
What you noticed about pondering is that it somehow took all the energy from everything else and redistributed it for its own selfish purposes, in this case you were left wandering your snapshots of last night while your tongue savored liquid that was mute. You wouldn’t necessarily call your behavior appropriate but it was concocted not from pleasure, rather delivered from revenge. It was resentment that fueled your desire — sexual gratification could not fulfill this hunger — it was about power. It was about control. It was seizing back every ounce of pride you let your good for nothing chief of executive operations put out like a lousy cigarette on the ground after you had offered humility. These murky thoughts were the reason you felt no regret for your actions, but you were still subjected to the over seasoned yet tasteless rice balls and the coffee that emulated muddy rain water on your tongue. You felt like shit, essentially, but in the complexity of things you had won. Grinding the ball of your foot into the pavement as rock scraps rolled beneath your sole, you slouched into the backing of the bench while listening to the sprinklers douse the grass, quietly piecing together what you were going to do.
What were you going to do?
Now without a job from a company you bent backwards and jumped through flaming hoops for, your mind raced with the anxious reminder that you were going to have to build your way back up. Convincing yourself it wasn’t so bad because you had attempted, and succeeded, was becoming a struggle every passing second. The flood of contemplation had you wondering if you should have accepted the offers that were given to you while you were being scouted by other companies who wanted to poach you from the market. Had you known you’d be assisting a living piece of shit, you may have resisted less.
Honestly you always wanted to live simply, at least amongst the standards of society. A small one bedroom apartment in the city but not on prime real estate, a middle manager job at a branch of a main company with opportunities, a stray black kitten turned cat, and you, the whole of these extensions. You always did your best and prided your perception off these little views into the whole reflection of you, regardless of what the outcome was because in reality, you expected only this much. This was simple and humble living, and this is all you wanted. You worked hard and you minded your own business, so what kind of karma did this entail exactly?
Pushing yourself off the bench, finally grappling with the sore result of your body, you felt the weight sink to your ankles as they balanced between carrying you and keeping poised on your heels. The walk of shame carried a different meaning to you, and it was that you were unemployed for the first time since university started. Discarding the remnants of your tasteless excuse for a breakfast, you brisked through the park and back towards your neighborhood where you could finally wash yesterday down the drain and start over, perhaps through job hunting. Just a block away from your building, you practically planted into the ground at the sound of your mobile phone as it erupted in your purse. Fishing it out, you squinted at the unknown number and somehow between the second you saw it and the second you answered, you hoped it was a pleasant coincidence that maybe someone you knew was looking to hire. Or perhaps a friend of yours recommended you and someone was reaching out to see if you were interested in a new career path? Better yet, that friend opened a company and needed you on the team for a start-up. Anything, desperation chimed, anything.
Anything but the sound of Mr. Im’s voice that oozed with impatience, instead, surfaced into the canal of your ear, “Why aren’t you in office?”
To say you were shocked was an understatement, completely in disillusion to the point where you pulled the phone away from you just to check if you were starting to hear things all on your own. After a brief pause, you curtly responded, “…Because I was terminated?”
There’s silence before a sarcastic laugh sparked from the receiver, “I don’t have any official documentation of that, you need to work until we find a replacement.”
A long pause, “Or did you not know that.”
The last comment was made to be a complete fucking asshole, you knew he was provoking you. Inhaling deeply, assuring not to allow the noise of frustration earn the exact reaction he was seeking, Mr. Im spoke once more, “I’ll see you in fifteen.”
And the line cut off.
Sometimes, you had a habit of taking too shallow breaths and you spoke to a few doctors to which they deliberated that you may have had some form of anxiety that lie dormant between the physiology of your being. Mostly because during these questionnaires, you had a bit of trouble answering honestly and it wasn't that you weren't aware of what you were doing, but you couldn't bring yourself to say the words that were on your mind. Instead you vaguely referred to them, like a directory more than an explanation. You assume the psychiatrist you met with saw through this, but knew how to communicate without causing a catalyst to exacerbate the symptoms. Besides, it wasn't abundant enough for medication but it wasn't quiet enough for you to go through your day to day without feeling a stammering worry that plagued every atom of your body. You remembered reading some time ago that there was a man who had some disease — common or not — and he committed to these breathing exercises that extended his life expectancy tenfold. That was what you wanted, right now in this moment, just to breathe enough to survive this because you were not going to crumble here, not when you were going to prove a point.
Turning on your heel, you started charging back towards the main street only to halt to a stop. But why should you return? It was already decided, just moments ago, to start anew. Right? You had made your resolution the second you slipped your clothes back on and disappeared from the room you shared with Mr. Im that you were going to rebuild this but better. There was no reason to go back to that fucking office to suffer the berating existence that it was to be a secretary of someone who had very little respect for you. There just wasn't. You barely realized how tensed your shoulders were until you exhaled deeply, feeling your muscles release your bones.
I'm going home.
But you can't seem to move because somewhere in the depths of your overthinking, riddled with holes and passages that descended down to nowhere, labyrinths of darkness that encased your every motive you wondered, what if he screws your entire career? What if, being a heavy hand in your industry, he crushes every possible pathway for you and you're left with nothing? Because he knew how much this whole thing meant to you, if it wasn't enough that you were willing to miserably put up with his shit the day before, then at least your work record could prove that much. The worry filled your being, as if someone was pouring water and it was already at your knees. Before you know it, you feel the water climb up your throat and now you're sprinting through the subway as you bite back your tears of frustration because you had never, not once felt that you lacked this much control in your entire life.
Entering the building, the embarrassment crashed into you like a flood, your head hung as you balled your fists up, creating crescents of your nails into your palms, wearing the same navy chiffon dress that adorned you the day before. The several years of pride that you built on your appearance, work ethic, and upstanding quality were crashing down onto you in just a matter of days and you could barely bring yourself to take the elevator up to your floor, the brief glances of your peers and coworkers feeling as if you were scrutinized — regardless if they had noticed your disheveled appearance or not. You're absolutely disgusted as you dropped your things at your desk, no time to even peer at yourself in a mirror, and threw Mr. Im's door open, not bothering to knock.
"Great, you're on time," he doesn't even bother to look up, but you're not surprised. Parting your lips to speak, he finally lifted his head and you could feel his revolting gaze scan over your appearance, causing you to feel nauseated and hold your speech which allowed him to interject first, "You didn't even bother to change?"
There were no words that you could find, or at least, no single formed sentence to use that could have described the frustration that coursed through every vein in your body. Your breathing turned shallow again, reflecting on how your superior had cleaned up — hair slicked back and a freshly dry cleaned suit, the collar of his shirt starched and ironed perfectly to press against his neck. The piercing and judgmental gaze gripped your lungs, forcing you to keep your composure, "...I didn't have time this morning. I had assumed—"
"Your affairs outside of the office aren't my business," sneering your name, you could see half a smirk appear on his lips as he continued, "but it seems you must have had a long night if you were irresponsible enough to show up...Like this."
Leaning back in his chair, you have to program your nerves not to let your jaw drop from his comment. The back of your neck warmed instantly, creating a trail to a migraine as you repeated to yourself breathe breathe breathe because you could feel your throat closing up quicker now.
"My apologies," through gritted teeth, you managed to surface a cruel smile, "I promise it won't happen again."
Rather than wait for his direction, you turned and slammed the door behind you before striding towards your desk, dropping your weight into your chair while quietly gasping for air. I shouldn't have come back, head tilted back as you attempted to ease into steady breathing. As childish as it was, you wanted to blame the whole of this on Jaebeom, every last fucking bit of it. But you can't and perhaps that's what created even more friction, because you knew that this wasn't his fault, at least not entirely. You created this situation yourself, and had you not selfishly decided to seek revenge for something as egotistic as pride, perhaps you could have walked away with your hands clean. This worked in tandem with the arrogance of your boss, of course, but he didn't do anything that was outside of your expectations. You earned this and so you attempted to recenter yourself by focusing entirely on work. There would be no time for your wandering thoughts and regrets, so long as you did what you did best and that was to work. Surprisingly, this is successful, and you managed through most of the day without feeling the combustion of frustration you had that morning, even avoiding Mr. Im as he had several clients to see to that day — all of which did not line up with your schedule, to your relief.
Just as the last two hours of your work day were resolving, greeting you every hour closer to your escape, you suddenly saw one of the sales associates frantically dart towards your desk with a heavy binder in her hands. It's a long explanation you can barely fathom through her shaky sobs, but you managed to piece together that a backorder she had placed had an exponential amount of quantity in contrast to the original form and she wasn't sure where to redistribute it. Apparently she heard you were a savior for these sort of situations at the branch, and now you were her only hope. Perhaps you pitied her tear stained face, and how could you possibly let her be fed to Mr. Im after he put you through the wringer this morning? Assuring her you would fix the mistake, you sent her home and began revising her work. Overtime wasn't new to you, but you hadn't thought this would to be a commitment as someone who was only an assistant. In some ways, you were relieved you were still seen as helpful, and that was honestly the ego boost you needed.
The office was empty, Mr. Im long gone due to some client meeting, the only sounds were your nails clacking away on the keyboard and the hum of the air conditioner every so often to keep the printing room cool. Occasionally, you'd hear the ice maker in the break room, but otherwise you were savoring the paradise of peace you were draped in while you began sorting the order. The work wasn't difficult but tedious, as you sent several notices to the global order management team, making them aware of certain changes you needed to override and why it was so sudden. The familiarity of work offered a sense of comfort to you, so much so, you didn't realize the figure hovering near your desk, "You're still here?"
The recognizable tone rekindled nausea as you focused on your screen, not bothering to look at the owner of the voice, "Yes, why are you here?"
"A meeting got moved and I thought I'd work on something..." the tone is flat and suddenly your vision blurs, fingers cold and unmoving, wondering why he's still looming before he suddenly grabbed the bottom mount of one of your monitors, turning it towards him. The silence indicated to you that he's probably reading, and you prepared yourself to hear him blast you with his uninvited criticism.
"...You know for someone who was at your managerial level, but unable to delegate, it's no wonder why you're a secretary now huh?"
"Excuse me?" Turning your head to look at him for the first time, you felt your blood pressure spike, "You do know you're in charge of overseeing the sales associates right?"
"It's not my job to clean up someone else's blatant mistakes, and it isn't yours either," turning the monitor back, he spoke his words firmly, "But someone who can't create a boundary on what their job title is..."
Sucking in a breath between his teeth, he folded his arms across his chest, "Certainly will do the work for them, huh?"
"Maybe, if you knew how to do your job better, they could follow," folding your fingers together, you leaned across the table, offering a sickeningly saccharine grin, "That way there wouldn't be any mistakes to clean up, don't you think, Mr. Im? You are only as strong as your weakest link."
"That's why you have to learn to strengthen those links, not baby them and do their damn work for them," leering at you, head tipped down, you have no other comments to make and there isn't time for it, because Mr. Im took his leave almost immediately after. It takes everything in you not to throw the monitors out the window behind you, use the computer itself to break through Mr. Im's door to trash his office, light the chairs and shelves lining the walls as a starter for a fire that would burn the building to a crisp. It takes everything in you not to boil over and cry every tear you had been holding in all fucking day. You pace back up to speed while continuing your work, still struggling to breathe.
A mug is delivered onto your desk by the devil's spawn, and you can't help but offer only disgust as he sips his own coffee. You dream a hundred different ways to splash the hot beverage at him as he lies in waiting, you assume, for you to take a sip, "Please tell me you put poison in it."
"You really think too highly of me."
"Trust me, I don't," rolling your eyes, you scanned through the worksheet, scrolling down towards a row in question.
"Drink it."
"No."
"Drink it and don't show up looking like you did again this morning."
Glaring at him, you begrudgingly took a sip before slamming the mug back down on the desk, holding your eye contact. If he was anyone else, you wouldn't have been so aggressive, stubborn. You would have certainly expressed your gratitude, but because he wasn't anyone else, you would never let him hear a single thank you for the rest of your life. It's close to midnight when you finish, and you depart without saying anything, letting the blur of catching the last train and of how you get home consume you through the sticky night air. You can't even recall a hint of how you washed up and got into bed, so drained you don't even notice when you fall asleep.
Water is the most pure and present representation of neutrality, a concoction that occurs only as a reaction. Though many physicists would argue otherwise, its state is a result more than a stable initiator. The temperature of water is adjusted due to exposure of heat, an outside conductor, its movements are recorded through the tectonic plates that grapple against one another hidden beneath the earth’s surface, another outside conductor. With the ability to control small increments in the human hand, it can also be a significant abundance and in mass amounts, water could flood whole cities, countries. Water brought life just as easily as it swept it away and as you float in an endless sea that had no horizon, blended to reflect the ash sky above, you wonder just how much of this is a reaction to you.
Though you were never particularly good at swimming, you could at least float. Fingers parted while exploring the viscous space, head bobbing just above the surface, the water that filled your ears and kept you recording your breathing in silence, soft licks of waves creeping beneath your inhales. Your body must have acclimated to the temperature since there was no particular differentiation when it came to heat and chill. Dipping down as you closed your eyes, you held your breath but soon realized while being under just slightly and seemingly too long, there was no reason to be doing so. Soft dancing bubbles escaped your nostrils as you looked up to see the dim light cadence against the reflective surface, glimmering for your return.
Instead, the urge to sink into the dark abyss intrigued you while you curled up and felt your weightlessness create some form of mass that drifted your being down. Lulling your eyes closed, the shadow depths began to creep over your skin as the gentle shifts in the water turned and rocked you at its will. Each breath you drank let no salt touch your tongue as you listlessly floated through limbo, no particular attention towards anything yet all things, all at once. Opening your eyes once more just to observe how far you fell, now in utter darkness. A deeper smudge of obsidian seemed to cloak your vision the deeper you descended, something stained the water, and what was once faulty oxygen in your lungs surged as you observed the surface growing closer before you broke through the ceiling. Gasping suddenly as the flesh of a palm cradled you in its confines, you were horrified to watch as the fingerprints began to unravel, skin coiling and peeling back. The nails decayed in slivers and crumbled into the water, ribbons of the epidermis effortlessly withering away as the imagery instilled panic — not because you would revert to sinking once it had completely peeled apart but the rotting flesh itself was enough. Ready to abandon ship, you felt your ankles locked in place as the vibrant crimson began crackling in desperation, forming vertices through the bone structure before dying the boards of a small paddle boat to carry you in. It happened so rapidly, vividly, your unease became a beacon of confusion once more as the vessel gently turned in a counter clockwise motion.
Suddenly, you're shivering. You weren't the least bit cold earlier, but between then and now, there's a draft. Craning your head back to peer up at the sky for clues, you notice not even a change in the cloud's structure has budged. It's as if air had no presidence here, not a requirement for you and certainly not present. Left without an oar, you clenched your teeth and leaned over the edge of the boat before scooping water towards the direction the head of the boat was pointed in an effort to escape. Hands cupping the frigid liquid, as if freshly melted ice had made its home in your hands, you continued to part your way before seeing a dark object in the distance. It swayed heavily and must have had some weight to it, creating its own ripples that licked at the bottom of your boat. Flicking the water off your hands as best you could, you squinted while shielding your fingers around your eyes as the vessel drifted closer. It's sinking now, whatever was peeking at the surface began bobbing lower and lower, circumscribed by the buoyant surface of the sea as it swallowed up the mass. When it finally broke the pendulum swing, it sunk and the fibers of protein that warped as the clear reflection finally imprinted on your gaze had you fully forming the inference.
It was Jaebeom, and he was sinking.
Humans like to think — in a hopeful sense — that we could independently peruse this lifetime without a need for others. It's the selfish and human thing to do. But in reality, we all pour from our cup, to another's cup, to another's cup, and to another's cup. We pour a little of our responsibility, our support, the love we share, our sanctity, and humanity all in different people's cups whether we like to acknowledge that or not. In a way, no matter how selfish an individual is, there is somehow a rift created from them that inherently has helped someone else, and that's the beginning and ending of it all. Because of this human response to how we accept the traumas that we experience through others, it really is no surprise that you didn't hesitate for a moment as you stood at the edge of the boat and screamed his name.
Im Jaebeom.
There's no sound. Gently reaching your frozen fingers around your neck, you amplified with what you could, kicking your diaphragm up as you felt your throat quiver in desperation. Still no sound. Panicked, you plunge into the water on a whim, swimming with what clumsy form you could remember — what your body could remember — as your fingers grasped through the intangible material with haste. Every time you reached to propel yourself forward, you realized that the image of Jaebeom would crystalize and somehow turn into fragments before resorting into one whole piece. At first, you assumed it was the water that was claiming your vision, but it wasn't, it was as if his entire existence was shifting before you. With each paddle, his physical being was disintegrating. As you grew closer, seeing the unconscious body drift lower and faster, you reached forward in an attempt to grab him as your mouth opened and struggled to claim any kind of volume you possibly could.
But somehow every time your fingertips drew forward, he was reeled backwards just as far. Kicking your feet faster, harder, aggressively attempting to bring yourself closer, you continued to desperately shout into the abyss, no water and certainly no sound departing or returning. A shadow from above began to cloak over as you watched the onyx shade creep up from behind the descending form in front of you, screaming even more frantically now.
Wake up! Wake up!
Every nerve in your body jolted forward as you sprung from your mattress, awoken by the perilous screeching of your own voice before desperately gasping for air. It was just a dream, but that doesn't comfort you as you felt an overwhelming chill bite at your skin while your alarm ripped through your bedroom walls.
Were you appreciative that you were still employed? Sure. Were you desperately looking for a way out? Absolutely. Wanting nothing more than to escape this reality you had little to no control of, you decided on your commute that you would create a deadline for yourself that would shape the rest of your time as Mr. Im’s assistant. That is, if he didn’t throw some fit and cut your contract short. Though confident in your work and abilities, on the off chance you could not make your way out, you would leave when the allotted time was up. It was a way for you to look forward to something, anything. Settling in your chair as your rolled it towards your desk, one of the sales managers strutted towards you, her elated but professional grin painted on her lips. Though you couldn't recall her name, how could you forget the most gorgeous employee at the main office? A stunning beauty, you were half surprised when you were introduced and told that she was responsible for many of the large trades and shipments that were from overseas; she looked more like an actress or movie star than another one of the pencil pushers here, like yourself. Residing with the top numbers for countless months, she was easily one of the top sales managers after her training period.
Resounding your title and last name formally, she gently placed a hand on your desk as your gaze followed her beautifully glazed nails up her neatly ironed dress, engaging in her glance finally as she spoke, "Is Mr. Im free today? I would like to discuss something with him."
Typically, you recited — like some kind of voicemail message — that he would be unable to take any appointments and you'd have him take a look at whatever was the subject of said request when he was free and return the documents or inquiries after the fact. This was, of course, full of shit and he really just didn't want to meet with anyone and especially not a woman one on one. After what happened the other day, you couldn't really blame him. But you could blame him for the past few hellish days where you listened to his condescending tone beat into your skull and insult any sort of work you did that didn't follow his organization — which you realized was a lot more picky than you initially suspected. With a saccharine grin, you beamed at her, "I am sure I can find some time for you. What did you want to discuss and when would you like me to pen you in?"
The expression that plagued her every feature was priceless, absolutely appalled that it was that simple because in the past, you were sure whoever was the makeshift scheduler refused to have anyone meet the CEO without obstacle and challenge. Leaning into your desk, a patient and friendly smile masquerading your expression, you tilted your head as she stuttered through her words, something you never imagine you'd witness, "...It's just some numbers with a new brand we're working with, just to double check."
The end of her sentence faded into the air similarly to how her tone wafted away, an almost sheepish grin now forming on her lips. It was made clear that she may have had a crush on your boss, how funny. This would make for an interesting meeting, you began jotting down buzzwords that held seemingly more importance than what she was spouting about. Nodding vaguely while she spoke, you peered up at her, "He's free in an hour, if you're available, I can have you meet with him then?"
With that, she fervently thanked you before departing back to her desk. What could you say? You told Mr. Im you were good at you job, which included but wasn't limited to, helping him grow and supporting him. If that meant you were going to help him through his phobia — or condition? Whatever it was — why wouldn't that be considered growth and support? Chuckling to yourself, you mentally began the countdown to your most exciting encounter of the day.
Or so you thought.
Somehow — and you had a feeling that the sales manager must have let that elation loosen her lips — you had a ton of inquiries from every female identifying human in the building to see Mr. Im. What a surprise. You let them come in and deliver him tea, host meetings with him in person and not over e-mail or some poorly streamed video, bring his mail to him personally, and even do their presentations in his office. The rest of his week was fully booked with more or less, mundane and useless appointments with the women of the office who wanted to court him. The current quarter was always notoriously slow, so it's not like you were sabotaging anything of importance. Rather, you filled his time with your very own unpaid therapy and for that, he should be thankful.
By the end of the week, you could tell he was on his last leg, his expression depleted of energy and yet somehow it roused with rage and frustration you knew was targeted at you. Feigning innocence, you went by each day carefully avoiding him in spaces where he could scold your behavior, even going as far as having your lunch out in the courtyard. You were as close to paradise in hell as you possibly could have experienced, as if you had begrudgingly crawled through a desert — famished and dehydrated — and somehow the mirage in the distance had fabricated into a tangible scenery, why hadn't you decided to floor him earlier? Forget fucking him, this was a hundred, no ten hundred, times more satisfying.
Honestly, you expected him to call you into his office at some point, though you were surprised how patient he seemed since he picked Friday and right before you were about to clock out. This may have been his own oversight though, based on the fact that he knew he'd be dipping right into your weekend. Just to add to your misery, why would he not eat up your time?
"Are you insane?"
"...According to my health records, no, not clinically," pausing, you let your eyes wander a bit as you hummed, creating an illusion as if you were thinking through something. Scoffing in response, palm resting at the edge of his desk, you watched as his fingers curled around the margin. Gripping the furniture, you wondered just how agonizing his week had been while his knuckles surfaced an alabaster tone that was wreathed by a rush of blood beneath his skin. Honestly, you only complied to the last minute meeting just to have him relive his entire week through the festering wound you created, "You have got to be fucking crazy."
"Well you aren't a doctor, are you? So what do you know?"
He shot you a look as you smiled at him sarcastically.
"I didn't tell you all of that in confidence, but I didn't think you'd act smart with me," wedging his lip between his teeth in frustration, he finally released the desk as you barked out a laugh. It's the first time either of you hear this curdling trill, and it's rather frightening because you never once imagined that you'd be laughing in the presence of Mr. Im and he certainly never thought he'd be hearing it either.
“...You know, for someone who’s got some kind of issue around women, you seem to know how to fuck them,” lulling your head languidly to the side, you eyes traced over the features on his face as they contorted into a strange expression, “…I said I didn’t know how to interact with them, not that I didn’t know how to have sex with them.”
“All the more reason you should thank me for helping you,” shrugging your shoulders, a smile graced your lips, implying directly that you did him a favor. Which he obviously did not consider. Exhaling a halfhearted laugh, one that does not fill its full resonance, he grit his teeth as he spoke, “Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?”
“Do you have any idea how stupid it sounds that you know how to have sex with women but not talk to them?”
Silence. Because it was stupid.
"...It makes a lot more sense than you imposing your so called help onto me," folding his arms over his chest, he narrowed his eyes while glaring at you, your smile never leaving your lips. You learned, in a matter of days, your actions held more weight than your words. It started on the very first day and his impression of your preparation, it was as if he complimented you when he arrived at expressionless silence. And it also didn't help that the language you both used seemed to be littered with spite alone. It was how you adjusted his schedules so he wouldn't constantly be parked at his desk for twelve to sixteen hours a day, or how you knew that he liked to stand on the right side of the elevator when you accompanied him to meetings. Even how you arranged his pens and documents in the morning to suit his left handed preference, all these little actions that created a warped way of understanding that held no flames to how you responded to him or would call him by his first name as an insult. It's how Jaebeom worked.
"I'm here to guide you Mr. Im, don't question my methods. I'm supposed to be both your support and mentor," placing a hand at your chest, fingertips gently grazing your necklace as you played victim, your sarcastic tone dug right into him as he sneered.
"You're doing a shit job at it."
"Well, I haven't been terminated yet have I? So I might not be so bad," wandering towards the bookshelf beside him, you peered at the generic picture frames that were made into partitions before glancing over your shoulder.
"Well don't get too comfortable," Leaning into his desk, arms still crossed tightly, his stoic expression reeked of rage as you mimicked his stance arrogantly. It really was all about action with him, and it had a lot to do with how well he read others. Watching his eyes roll as he exhaled yet another frustrated breath, your gaze incidentally found that his condition was acting up. Forcing your laughter back down your throat, you decided on a whim to instead, provoke him first, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You really have to ask? Don't get comfortable where you're at."
Realizing that his exasperation to your behavior must have circumvented any other physical response, the receptors in his head simply overworked by the onslaught of cortisol it must have been pumping this whole week, you discern that he had no idea he was straining in his slacks.
"...Speak for yourself," a stride forward, and you impetuously tucked a finger into his belt before pressing your other palm up against his very obvious erection. The sudden tension that plagued his face leaked down every feature until it dripped down his body, his skin instantly searing beneath your touch, "You're getting a little too comfortable, don't you think?"
The impulse trip kicked up again as you squeezed him through the fabric, guiding yourself just a breath closer. Just as you inhale, you captured the blunder of tobacco and pepper cease your senses before feeling the familiar hand grip at your hip, his thumb finding the slope of your protruding bone.
"...That's your best apology for the bullshit you did this week?"
But, that's how Jaebeom worked, his actions were always alluding to his true intentions. One curved revolution and your positions were reversed, your back creased along the edge of his desk as he trapped you with his hands along the margin. Unflinching, your pupils must have been flooded as you locked your gaze with his, fingers gliding up his silk tie before you gripped the fabric and yanked him a little closer, "That's the best you're getting from me."
In one deft motion, he hoisted you up onto the edge of his desk while dipping forward, the perimeter between the two of you filled with only anticipating breaths. It was as if you were both expecting the other to give in first, a quiet war that sparked a flint that was igniting a swarming fire that could be used to burn the other. But in some ways, you were the guilty verdict, and you took that as a victory rather than a loss. Palms settled behind you, you were ready to recline as you abruptly felt Jaebeom's hand press into your spine to restrict your movement, "As much as I'd love to watch you crack your head on the edge of one of my monitors, I'm not really in the mood to clean it up."
It half surprised you that he read your motion even before you committed to it, but he was always a little too observant anyways. Narrowing your eyes at him, the grimace on your lips deepened when he drank in your expression, his fingers gripping the plush of your cheeks as your mouth rested at the valley between his thumb and index. Crooning in the most unbearable tone you had ever heard, you rolled your eyes at him while he spoke, "Don't be a brat, aren't you supposed to be apologizing to me?"
A brat? Wrinkling your nose, you sneered at him, "Takes one to know one, huh?"
Forcing his thumb into your mouth, you were half tempted to bite down — you heard that all it took was the pressure of splitting a small baby carrot with your teeth to detach it from its joint. You decide against it belatedly as you heard sharp droplets littering the wooden surface before rolling onto the plush carpet, peering down at the lost buttons of your blouse, you groan in displeasure before using your tongue to push out his finger, "You fucking idiot, how the hell am I supposed to go home?"
"Not really my problem," shrugging, a shit eating grin plastered over his mouth, he continued his own handy work as he dove into your shoulder while reaching up to cup your breast in one of his hands.
"You're such a fucking jerk."
"Mhmm," savoring the way your jasmine infused perfume clung to the cotton of your shirt, he reached around and unclasped the hooks of your bra as the garment fell. Pushing the sleeves of your shirt away and discarding your bra along with it, you begrudgingly yanked on his tie — harder this time — as you drew him in and pressed your forehead against his, "Are you really not going to apologize for ruining one of my favorite blouses?"
"I don't remember you apologizing to me yet," and he sealed his sentence onto your mouth as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, causing you to freeze up, brows furrowing, "...I told you not to do that."
"I told you not to schedule anyone without my permission."
"It was important."
"You want me to believe you thought it was that important?"
Lies were always a struggle for you to vocalize, they just never seemed to fall from your lips without some sort of awkward contradicting action, and even now you were fumbling with the silk fabric around Jaebeom's neck as you tried to pull it loose, "It could have been."
Sliding his index finger into the knot, he pulled the loop with one swift movement before grabbing ahold of your chin to induce eye contact, "But it wasn't, was it?"
"...I wouldn't know, I wasn't the one meeting with them."
The snarl you heard blossom in his throat had you flinch, Jaebeom taking advantage of your staggered movement by gripping your wrists and bringing them to his belt as he began carefully slipping the buttons of his shirt through their respective holes, "Then I can assure you, they weren't. So no more scheduling useless appointments, right?"
The tone he used put you off, and your decision to push him came into fruition almost immediately when your thumbs simply line the leather and silver plated buckle of the logo, as if memorizing the design. You weren't so keen as to drop your hands, but they certainly were not moving at the pace of his impatience. With your jaw in his hold once more, the empty eye contact held your silence between the two of you, as he articulated with more emphasis, "Right?"
"...Right."
Rather than succumbing — much to his desire — you instead only respond to give him the answer he was seeking, because in all essences, you were the one in control. If Jaebeom wanted to create an opulent fantasy where he could overrule your decision, he certainly had not learned about you the way you had learned about him. Pressing the hook through the hoop as the plate and metal hinge knocked against one another — the only sound that seemed to be reverberating between the short and shallow breaths you both shared — the belt came apart in your hands, a touch of fabric against the suede lining whistling in your ears as you let it descend. The dull thump of the heavy buckle hit the carpet as you kicked your heels off along with it, struggling to shimmy out of your own slacks before feeling your weight lifted up. Tucking you against his sturdy frame with one arm, he effortlessly helped you out of your pants before setting you back on the desk unceremoniously, "You're slow to undress, even this time."
"...You just always know what to say, don't you?"
"I'm rather good with my mouth," the smart comment instantly invoked a heavy desire of wanting to redress yourself and leaving without a single word more.
"Are you? Jokes are only funny when you're not lying."
"Do you think I'm lying?"
You weren't sure what your initial intention was but that was a threat, you were sure of it. But a threat you were tempted to see through. There was a prominent suggestion swirling in your mind as you contemplated whether to guide it into vocalization or to simply continue and slice through his ego, perhaps gaining a more intense result if you committed to the latter. The performative action of how you uncrossed your legs decided for you, "I don't believe things until I see them."
"Since when did your apology turn into me doing you a favor?"
Mouth agape, you feigned shock, "A favor? Mr. Im, it's only a favor if it's good."
And you receive the response you were eager to be in through the presence of a brute and concise expression of competition that riddled the perimeter of his whole face. Though he seemed to be composed, you realized early on that Im Jaebeom was a competitive bastard and a few carefully plucked nuanced words were all you needed to get his ignition going. You also realize, in the few moments where you let him finally rid you of the last garment on your body, he doesn't know how to take a joke the same way he delivers them and when he flattens his tongue ardently against your bundle of nerves, you suddenly realize what they meant when they said there were 8,000 of these endings in the clitoris alone. Dipping backwards, you winced as you felt Jaebeom yank your hips closer to him, skidding along the smooth wood and his teeth sinking into your inner thigh as he spoke into your skin, "I told you to be careful your hard head might crack one of the monitors."
The only noise you could utter in response is a groan as he stiffened his tongue back against you, causing an instant slur of moans to escape your lips. As much as people liked to credit the heightened experience of alcohol induced sex, there honestly was no comparison to sobriety, not when you felt every fervent breath between the calculated way Jaebeom used his tongue against you. Even the gentle brush of his teeth against your skin caused you to squirm in absolute delight, feeling yourself drip over every lick you received. Pure euphoric noises passed your lips as your fingers threaded through his hair the moment he slid a finger into you, and even he noticed how hard you were clenched around him. The labored breaths that sunk your lungs was his indicator that you weren't going to last, unraveling at his hands as he pulled away, timed perfectly before your uncoiling. Gasping desperately, you peered at him with a dazed expression as the words fell out on their own, "Why did you stop?"
"To check if it was good."
The violent desire of having his mouth meet your fist was all that roused your thoughts as your hazy expression began to take a tumble, absolutely speechless at his childish action. But he reassured you that he was simply the same asshole, nothing quite so new, you thought he was when he cleared his throat, "...If it was, you can tell me, and I can finish the job."
"So you got a praise kink, now?"
Earning yourself a deadpanned eye roll you can't help but expel an amused laugh, watching him hover over you with an acrid and unimpressed expression, "I mean, I wouldn't be surprised...What with you being an only child, mommy and daddy showering you in all their attention, right?"
There was a fleeting spark of something that crossed over his eyes, just for a moment, and if you had not been staring directly at him you may have missed it. It was a strange chill that emulated an emptiness you had not felt in ages, but you don't address it as he readjusted the banter back towards a boundary you had not meant to cross, realizing you may have not learned all you thought you did, "Call it whatever you want, but unless you say it, you're going to be the one dealing with your own mess."
"Mess? At least when I put my pants on, it doesn't look like I have a weapon on me."
"...So you think it's that big?"
Sucking in your lips, you held them in place with your teeth, a tight line bit down desperately when you realize your words were getting clumsier the more you spoke. Though he wouldn't be lying, you weren't willing to disclose that information with him just yet, "...You did good."
"That's it?"
"Very good," your eyes turned like a dial as you nudged your knee at him, "Are you going to let me cum now or what?"
"I don't know, it doesn't feel as convincing when you say it..." The provocation is supported by a warm growl that you recall from several nights back, a sound that easily caused a kindling and lust filled response. Typically, he spoke with a natural timbre and tone that even the occasions when he cleared his throat to speak during presentations caused your mind to stray and wander far from your reality. You let him win the round, "Could you please? You were right, your mouth is not just for talking shit."
You couldn't help the latter, honestly. But instead of taking offense he bellowed a laugh of disbelief, "Are you seriously begging and insulting me in the same breath?"
"Will it get you to go down on me again?"
"If it was that good, I thought you'd be more desperate."
Pride in humans was such a complex concept that molted and formed where it needed to, and it found a home between your legs at this moment, your knees kissing to relieve some of the tension you had pent up inside you, "...I need you to do it again, please? It was good, and I honestly don't know if it will feel the same if I try and get myself off."
The words jumbled when you attempted to feed them back into your own ears, the sound of distance in your own voice causing confusion in the strange tone and desire that lost to your human will. But the moments you have to feel any last shred of embarrassment is dispersed as soon as you felt Jaebeom's grip on your thigh, spreading your legs once more before continuing his ministrations. Pleasure instantly washed over you as he worked his middle finger back in, lips encapsulating your swollen bundle of nerves as he worked in tandem to let you meet your peak once more. Convulsing as your abdomen tightened, your fingers card back through Jaebeom's messy hair as you gripped hard and bucked your hips forward. When he referred to how apparent your arousal was by calling it a mess he should have simply referred to you instead, your reaction was intrinsic but your movements and inherent being were falling apart before him. A final exhale and you choked out his name while a high pitched moan managed to gather and release from your tongue.
The moment you found to steady your breath is the same one that Jaebeom used to turn you over on his desk, your chest against the wood surface as he propped your knee up at the edge. Hissing as you attempted to adjust for comfort, he selfishly began pressing against your overstimulation as your arms gave out from your position, "Why are you always so impatient?!"
"Can you not comment once in a while, I let you cum already."
Your hips react differently to the way he lined his tip up and down your folds as opposed to your tone, back arching to meet his touch with wanton abandon as you shuddered when he finally entered you. If you were still in the mood to tease him, you liked to think you would have turned around and retorted some well thought out remark, but even then that could have lost to the possibility that the results would be the same. You had him inside of you recently, but somehow it felt like the first time again, the stretch sudden but coercing adrenaline in a way that blinded any initial soreness by raw pleasure. Fervent fingertips traced up your hips and finally to your waist, you plant one hand to pitch you up on the desk but the other curled around his bare wrist — if you grabbed his watch, you knew you'd leave a bruise on him with how tightly you're holding — giving it a squeeze. With no surprise or hesitation, Jaebeom took his cue and pushed his length entirely into you as you moaned.
The pace is slow for only as long as you can sneak a respiration, but his rhythm easily picked up to suit his impatience, and the string of obscenities that left your lips was growing in volume and length. Dousing the back of your neck with his breath, your sensory overload had you losing the last bit of control you had, submitting even your pleasure over to him as he thrust into you with perfect strokes, back and forth. The only focus you had left was to not cum too early and give him new ammunition to use against you, because he seemed to take pride in what he could manage to squeeze, whether that was a reaction or a way to beg him to fuck you, you now learned.
Without intention, you managed to complete his request of not commenting, simply relinquishing noises of delight and pleasure. Reaching for your neck with his free hand, he gently wrapped his fingers around your throat as you felt your skin blister from anticipation — it was sick how much he must have paid attention the first time if he noticed that you got off with how he choked you. Refusing to react, you simply pushed your hips back at the same rate he fucked you against the desk before his grip fused against your skin, pressing the column of your throat to capture your breath. You quietly thanked him for having turned you around because you weren't sure what kind of face you were making, lost in bliss the way every inch of his cock stretched you and how his rough hands were keeping the last bit of controlled ownership to himself.
Stifled moans are the last emission you can manage as you feel the quick snap of your core, completely unwound as Jaebeom crashed his hips into yours. By now, he knew exactly what you felt like when you were cumming, clenched around him and he'd be lying if he said there wasn't an insatiable desire that caused him to chase it every time. Not slowing his pace, he released your neck while pulling you closer towards him, his warm skin greeting your own while you rode out the last bit of your orgasm with soft whines, "You've cum twice and I still haven't gotten an apology."
There it was. But you don't have the energy to argue rather, you languidly reached around and draped your hand over his neck while catching your breath, peering up at him, "...I'm sorry I let all the nice and pretty girls in the company bother you this week. Don't be too mean, they just think you're cute."
Your words snuck between labored breaths as your half lidded eyes shut, your body still drowning in a post high you weren't quite sure you would come down from. There isn't any effort from you as he continued to thrust up to meet your hips, a smudged bout of laughter leaving his throat, "Never thought I'd hear you actually apologize."
"Then why'd you mention it."
"Just to mess with you."
"...You're such a fucking jerk, you know," while you mumbled, he moved his fingers that were originally inside of you against your lips, allowing you to taste what was left of when you soaked his skin and it's enough to make you want to cum against his cock again. You still hadn't figured out why he lasted so long and you decided it was because of his reverse erectile dysfunction, it had to be. When you managed to finish catching your breath, reality no longer lapsing you between a euphoric lust led fantasy, you alternated between how tightly you squeezed him with each thrust — hoping this would usher him to his end, but he doesn't react how you expect, instead his hands traveling over every inch of your skin and causing you to shudder.
It wouldn't be right to cum again, you keep telling yourself, but the way he's groping your breasts or how his fingertips were dug into your thigh was convincing you otherwise, "...I'm gonna cum."
You think the admission is at least better than not mentioning it at all, now for the third time, but you decide it's much worse once his lips pressed against your neck — just below your ear — and he whispered in a tone so gentle that the way he said it probably was what caused you to unravel rather than the way he fucked you, "Go ahead, cum."
Instant gratification was at his disposal as you leaned forward, only held in place by Jaebeom's arm around your waist as anything below your hips grew hot then numb, your toes curling in response to your body's reaction. Mentally you chant and beg for him to finish because you can assure yourself you're not going to be conscious for much longer, and though he could read others well, you started to wonder if he pretended he didn't know your intent especially when you felt his finger against your clit, "Wait!"
The yelp is instant as you shivered against him, torn between a mix of succumbing to every pleasurable desire you ever had being fulfilled or stopping to catch up with how your body’s reaction. Jaebeom, of course, ignored your request as you puddled out moans from your throat. Teeth in your shoulder, the onslaught of sensations were overwhelming every one of your receptors because it really did feel that good yet you couldn't savor any particular moment because it happened all at once.
Lost in a haze, your body felt as though it no longer belonged to you, every extremity inherently detached from the organic state and so heightened by pleasure and tension that they were simply extensions hanging from a frame. If begging could get Jaebeom to finish, you would have done it but you didn’t have the slightest idea how to coax him to cum. What was so intricate about the male physiology, anyways? Yet, through contradiction, you were the one spent over and over. The sudden rough grip on your breast forced you to hiss as the erratic tempo of Jaebeom’s thrusts offered a possibility of an end — finally — while your eyes pooled, festooning your cheeks with tears that were gifted from overstimulation.
The ragged breathing into your skin was your relief as you felt his sudden pull, but in your panic — especially from his disorganized way of spilling and leaving behind his mess — you gripped his wrist, “Just cum inside.”
“What?” A disgusted expression plagued his face as he seemed to lose his rhythm, “You really are fucking cra—”
“I’m on birth control so get over yourself and it’s gonna get on the carpet and your desk,” narrowing your eyes at him, you spoke quickly through your breathy pants. With a contorted expression, he rolled his eyes as he simply nodded, and not a breath later you could hear his painstakingly elongated growl. Shivering at the tone and how he held your hips in place, you finally released a sigh of relief before reaching over the desk to grab the tissue box near his keyboard. While his grip loosened, you secretly savored the warm and viscous feeling of how he filled you.
Watching your fingers tremor as you carried the cardboard container, you realized just how tense you must have been the entire time. Focused on gaining a proper grip back, you witnessed a flash of white as Jaebeom snatched several sheets and did the cleaning himself — much to your surprise and a tinge of embarrassment. You'd mostly expected to have done it on your own, and though this was already the second time you were allowing yourself to be completely naked and blissed out from being fucked by him, something about this action had induced some form of shyness. Gentle swipes over your skin and you listened to him discard the sheets as you whimpered while removing your knee from the desk, a heavy red mark along your thigh and your hip searing with initiated soreness.
The marks and fatigue would fade into an ephemeral glimmer, the same way your high would only last those fleeting moments more, but now in your sobriety you were left with an impression you weren't quite so sure would emulate the same transience. Several nights ago, you barely remembered how you managed to get your dress back on, how you purchased your breakfast, or even how you ended up at the park. Now, with full clarity, you were pulling on fabric over your skin with amplified sensory, listening to how every zip and clasp reattached itself in utter silence. It left your mind to wander once more, why you let this second time even ensue, better yet with your initiation. Two for two, right? You hadn't felt such a deeply mortifying realization until this moment as you awkwardly attempted to figure out how to wrap your blouse so you wouldn't be committing some form of public indecency.
How the hell were you supposed to get home?
all work, no play series masterlist
#got7#got7 scenario#got7 scenarios#got7 imagines#got7 jayb#got7 jaebeom#jaebeom scenario#jaebeom scenarios#jaebeom imagines#jayb scenario#jayb scenarios#jay imagines#jayb smut#jaebeom smut#smut#got7 smut#got7 fanfic#got7 fanfics#got7 fan fic#got7 fan fics
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New discoveries
Summary: The tables have turned to your advantage but new problems lie ahead...
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader x Mobster!Steve
Characters: Peter Parker, Peggy Carter, Dottie Underwood, Tony Stark
Warnings: angst, language, mentions of death of a loved one (drowning), pregnant reader, sassy reader, sweet Peter, tension, fingering, a hint of fluff
Credits: Divider by @firefly-graphics
<< Part 3
Ours to keep masterlist
“Doll, please,” Bucky grunts, pressing his erection into your ass. “I didn’t get off in two months. I have this sexy pregnant girl around and she won’t let me have her.”
“Whose fault is that?” You smile to yourself when Steve scoots closer to rub your belly. “If you wouldn’t be such assholes, we could have an awesome sex life. I liked you both.”
“God, does she make you as hard as me,” Steve looks at Bucky, not hiding his painfully throbbing cock. “This is torture.”
“This is Sparta if I want it to be,” you retort, glaring at Steve. “You know, the women didn’t take shit from their husbands either. Did you see the movie? Leonidas, the king, looked at his wife for confirmation first.”
“We are not in Sparta, doll. Now be good and at least tell us who will become a father. We were good, weren’t we?” Steve whines, looking at your belly. “Please, baby.”
“I can look at you for confirmation too if you tell us about the babies. Please let us know. We allowed Peter to only do legal stuff and be around of you all the time,” Bucky husks against your pulse point, a smirk on his lips when you squirm in his embrace. “Doll…”
“Fine, I’ll tell you but I have conditions you must fulfill first,” the dark grin on your lips let Steve’s features darken but he agreed to ‘play nice’. Bucky and he made a pact to at least try to be good ‘boyfriends’, even though, you refuse to let them call you their girlfriend. “I want to work again. You will tell Peggy and Dot you are the fathers of my babies and that you are in love with me.”
“You’re such an evil mastermind,” Bucky grinds his cock into your ass, groaning as you push back onto him. “I’ll do it if you are a good girl and let me slip my hand into your panties,” you shiver, even feel your core ache but you decided to let them suffer a little longer.
“No sideline, Barnes. Take the deal or leave it,” Steve’s eyes roam your body, and you swear, he just undressed you with his blue orbs. “This goes for you too, Rogers.”
“You will take Peter with you, no discussion. If we tell anyone you are expecting our heir, you’re in danger, doll. It would be wiser to not tell anyone,” Steve places one large hand onto your belly, slowly rubbing it again.
“They always made fun of me,” you whine, sounding like an angry toddler. “I want them to see I can have what they didn’t get. Not even a taste,” Bucky’s face buries into your neck. He’s nibbling at your skin whilst his hand creeps toward your panties.
“Let me make you cum and we’ll do anything you want us to do,” Steve doesn’t like his friend’s plan, but he nods, eager to at least watch Bucky pleasure you. “Just a bit.”
“Deal,” you gasp feeling Bucky’s hand slip into your panties to toy with your swollen nub. You swear you can feel the smirk against your pulse point when he feels wetness coat his fingers.
“Our girl is so wet for us, Stevie,” Steve smirks before he dips his hand into your panties too. “True, Buck. Now let’s decide who slips his fingers inside and who will play with her pearl,” your eyes roll back feeling two thick fingers slip inside…
“Ah, the infamous pregnant girl returns,” Dot snickers, watching you and Peter walk into the library. “Look, Pegs’ she brought her bodyguard.”
“This is Peter, he’s a good friend and, you got that part right, my bodyguard,” your voice confident, you snap your fingers to watch Dot’s face fall when Steve and Bucky walk into the library. “You already know Steve and Bucky, my boyfriends and fathers of my babies.”
“Fathers?” Peggy looks at Steve who places his hand onto your belly, confirming he’s the father. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Does she pay you for that brilliant lie?”
Dot’s laugher dies when Bucky wraps one hand around her throat to slam her into one of the shelves.
“Listen, hussy. That girl is ours. We made her our girl, filled her with our heir, and if she agrees, we’ll marry her one day,” Bucky grunts, pressing his thumb against Dot’s windpipe. “I want you to be very nice to Y/N from now on. If she or Peter tell me otherwise, I’ll be back.”
“Let me warn you, sweet cheeks, you don’t want Bucky to come back,” Steve smirks, seeing the fear in Dot’s eyes. “We went on a date with you to get information about our girl. Buck and I, we said something stupid and it ended in a fight with Y/N.”
“Now be good, do your job and shut up close to my girl,” Dot coughs when Bucky finally let go of her throat. She looks at the mobster, fear is still written all over her face.
“Peter, our girl is your responsibility now. Pietro and Clint are only one call away,” Steve whispers into Peter’s ear. “If anything happens, even if only a moth coughs, call them. Nothing can happen to Y/N.”
“Got it, boss. Nothing will happen to Y/N on my watch,” Peter nods at Bucky who still doesn’t like the idea of leaving you alone.
“Tonight, we want to know, Y/N,” Bucky points toward your belly, narrowing his eyes. “Or they will be no orgasms for you in the future…”
Only a two hours are left when Bucky strolls back into the library, carrying a huge bag with food.
“Delivery for my hungry girl,” the mobster smirks, placing the paper bag onto your desk. “We have your favorite roasted chicken, salad, bread, pudding, fruit salad, and something for Peter Parker.”
You nod, while you suppress a smile. Bucky bought all your favorite food and did not forget to bring something for Peter too. Engrossed in checking on the food Bucky get’s out of the bag you hear the door open once again.
“Bucky,” Steve grunts, walking into the library, a bag with food in his arms. “I thought we agreed it’s my turn to bring her food. I even bought something for Parker!”
“I’m hungry too, let’s just share what you bought,” Bucky smirks when your eyes drift toward the food Steve unpacks.
“Uh-he got unhealthy stuff. Look at this Buck,” you squeal, grasping for a Twinkie. “I hate and love that disgusting stuff at the same time.”
“I know my girl,” humming Steve watches you stuff the Twinkie into your mouth, rather choking on it than chewing. “Slow down, doll. I got more than enough.”
“Give me that peanut butter monstrosity,” grumbling Bucky stuff a Twinkie into his mouth only to retch. “That's too sweet…eek,” mumbling the mobster scrunches up his nose.
“It’s not that bad, Barnes,” you scold, inhaling the scent of your roasted chicken deeply. “I always loved to eat something sweet before lunch. Odd, I know. Most of the people eat the sweets after lunch or dinner.”
“You’re crazy, I like it,” Steve steals a mouthful chicken, grinning when you glare up at him. “Bucky said we will share.” He defends he stole food from you.
“Your stuff, not my roasted chicken. Keep your hands off my food or your son will kick your ass,” you gasp, acting as if you did not just drop one of your babies is Steve’s.
“Doll, is the other mine?” Bucky scoots closer, poking your belly with his finger. “Please tell me, Y/N.”
“Fine,” you throw your hands up in surrender, sighing deeply. “Both of you are going to be a father. Don’t ask me why, but the doctor said it’s possible.”
Bucky grins, looking at your baby bump again. His chest puffs and you swear, he looks like a peacock when he gets a cigar out of his jacket to hand one to Peter and another to Steve.
“I knew that my boys made it,” Bucky snickers, ignoring you throw a Twinkie at him. “They can swim.”
“Mine too,” Steve wants to light the cigar when Peter clears his throat. “Sir, not at a library and not close to a pregnant woman.”
“You should learn some manners, Rogers,” lips pursed you point toward the cigar. “Maybe Peter will give you lessons…”
“Finally, out of the house,” you groan, resting your head onto your desk. “I swear since they know both are going to be a father, they do not let me out of sight. I couldn’t go to the toilette on my own, Peter.”
“I know they seem to be overprotective, but their profession is not the safest. I can assure you; Mr. Rogers wants to keep your safe,” Peter gives you a soft smile, warming your heart for him even more. “I would never let anything happen to you, promised.”
Peter must’ve seen the worry in your eyes when you looked at him. You never thought much about Bucky and Steve’s kind of business. It’s not as if you didn’t know that they do illegal stuff, but you never thought it would affect your or your babies’ life.
“I know Peter,” you smile, still fear is creeping into your thoughts. “I don’t want to sound paranoid but there is that guy again, right next to the shelf with books about modern art. He comes to the library almost daily but never stays longer than a few minutes.”
Peter nods, taking a book from your desk to act as if he thumbs through the pages. His eyes drift toward the man and his blood freezes. “Why did I never see him before?”
“He always comes here when your shift is over. Before Pietro arrives, the man is gone. I don’t know why he’s still here today,” you whisper. “Do you know that man?”
“Unfortunately, yes. That’s…,” gasping you must watch the man stalk toward you and Peter. At the same time as you begin to panic, Peter remains stoic. He dialed Pietro’s number minutes ago, knows Clint and the others are on their way.
“I guess the cats out,” the man smirks, eyes roaming your body. “Name’s Stark, Tony Stark,” his eyes never leave your belly when he holds out his hand. “I must admit, I never thought Barnes and Rogers had it in them to keep a girl.”
“Sir, I must ask you to stay away from Ms. Y/L/N. This is a neutral zone,” Peter’s voice is strong, but his heart pounds in his chest. “I know you want to get to know the girl in Mr. Barnes's life, but this is not the time nor the place for it.”
“Peter Parker, all grown and tough now,” Tony smirks, glancing at his hand which you never shook. “Shame you didn’t agree to work for me back then. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks for asking. Just like my aunt,” Peters teeth grit and you wonder what happened back then. “I will ask you one last time to leave, Mr. Stark.”
“Or what, boy?” Tony’s smirk vanishes when the door flings open, revealing two angry mobsters and their men. “Guess times up, sweetie. We will see each other again. I hope to get to know you even better.”
Tony waltzes out of the library, tapping his hat before he snickers. “Have a great day, Ms. Y/L/N.” Your legs are about to give in when Steve rounds your desk to catch you.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t know he was here over the last days. Y/N said he sneaked in when Pietro came to take over his shift. It’s my fault he got that close to her,” Peter sighs.
“No, no…you protected me,” you gasp holding tight onto Steve when he picks you up in bridal style. “Steve, he protected me.”
“I know, doll. He did everything he could to keep you safe. We are here now, you are unharmed. Nothing else matters,” Bucky strokes your cheek, giving you a once over.
“No more working here. Stark knows who you are to us,” there is no room for arguments when two mobsters hold your life in their hands. “Clint, Pietro, pack Y/N’s belongings. Peter, Sam, you will come with us,” you lean your head against Steve’s chest, for once giving in to his commands.
“We’ll bring you somewhere safe, Y/N,” concerned Bucky pecks your lips, places his hand onto your belly before he looks you all over again. “No one hurts our girl.”
“She’s holding that odd picture to her chest for almost an hour,” Steve whispers, watching you press the photo Clint got from the library for you to your chest. “What shall we do?”
“Sir, if I’m allowed to give you advice,” Peter clears his throat, pointing toward the picture in your hands. “The photo, it’s important to her as it’s the last one her mother took of her brother. They were at a lake, vacation and all…” Steve nods, glancing at you. “Her brother liked to scare people, to make bad jokes, and well, catch a frog to watch his mother scream.”
Bucky chuckles, smirking at Peter’s words. “I guess that guy was a great little brother. I wish we had the opportunity to meet.”
“Y/N, she told me that her mother screamed and dropped the camera. She wanted to take the picture after she calmed but Y/N’s brother opened his hand only to reveal the frog once again,” Peter chuckles, wiping a tear off his cheek. “Their mother got so mad as he scared her twice using the frog but Y/N, she defended him.”
“A good big sister,” you kiss the picture before you place it onto the nightstand, a soft smile on your lips at the memory of your brother. “What happened later?”
“As I said, their mother got mad and insisted they must drive home that night. If not, the boy might be still alive. The next night he sneaked out of the house to put the frog into the pool. Y/N always assumed he wanted to scare their mother again.”
“We know the rest,” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. “I bet, Y/N’s mother felt guilty for cutting their vacation short and blamed Y/N instead.”
“According to the coroner, Y/N’s brother must’ve slipped. He hit his head at the edge of the pool and drowned.” Peter swallows thickly, hoping his bosses finally see you need someone to care for you, not own you.
“Stevie, we should check on her. Natasha and Clint keep an eye on Stark. Tonight, we can’t strike back…”
>> Part 4
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Danger Days - Chapter seventeen: “Falling into pieces”
Word count: 7,8K
Summary: Joey talks with Matthew for the first time ever since breaking up. Gerard opens up with Mikey about his true feelings for Joey.
Warnings: Cursing, angst, mention of sexual assault.
A/N: Do you think Matthew is gonna be excited to be a dad?
Masterlist
Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |
--
Matthew kept asking his mom what time it was. He had been doing the same ever since he woke up around ten in the morning. He was anxious. His whole body hurt; he was suffering from several wounds, but still, what hurt him the most was not being able to talk to his girl.
- "Hey"- Paget whispered as she walked into the room with two cups of coffee- "Hello Marilyn, I brought you this."
- "Thank you, honey"- the two women hugged for a second, then the actress walked to her friend.
- "How do you feel?"
- "Like I was in a car crash, literally"- he answered and smiled- "I'm ok. My knee is still in place, which is amazing. I thought I was going to return to the crutches for another six months."
- "You are very lucky, your car is smashed... I can't believe you don't have a scratch."
- "I have many, many bruises, doesn't that count?"- Matthew whispered, still in pain.
- "I think it does"- his friend joked- "I got you these"- Paget opened a bag and put on the bed all the stuffed animals the young man had made- "I took all the stuff from your car, I had the feeling you might need these."
- "Thank you"- he softly smiled and looked at the handmade toys.
- "Everybody says hi"- Paget tried to take Matthew away from any sad thoughts he had- "Do you know when you will be discharged?"
- "No, the doctor said a couple more days."
- "Again, a car crash."
- "Yeah..."- Matthew smiled at his friend, and she smiled back- "Thank you for being here."
- "That's what friends do... hey, can I get you something to eat?"
- "I'm ok."
- "I'm not coming until tomorrow, so I'm gonna go get you some candy for later"- Paget turned around and left the room for a few minutes.
- "What time is it, mom?"
- "It's noon, baby"- she answered and walked to him, kissing his forehead- "Try to sleep a little more, I'll wake you up when she calls, ok?"- he nodded and closed his eyes. He really couldn't wait anymore.
Gerard looked at Joey warming up at the other side of the room, her eyes closed, her headphones on. He sighed, thinking she wasn't in love with him. She had never been. Not like he was, at least. She wasn't going to be his. Not without a fight. Could he win a battle against Matthew? He was a cheater, but Gerard was married. That made him a cheater too.
- "Hey!"- Mikey's hand smacking his arm took him from his thoughts- "Why are you staring at her?"
- "I was just... thinking about... nothing, I guess."
- "I'm starting to think maybe Frank is right"- and Gerard turned to his younger brother pretending to be insulted.
- "Don't be stupid."
- "Then stop drooling. You are not fooling anyone!"
- "Come on, kids! It's showtime!"- Jeffrey walked in clapping his hands- "Joey! You too!"- he yelled, and the girl took out her headphones.
- "What?"
- "Show, now! Come on!"
- "Sorry"- the girl smiled and sprinted over the band. Frank's arms locked around her as he stood in the hallway next to the stage and kissed her shoulder upon her Megadeth t-shirt.
- "Take care"- and the drummer rolled her eyes.
- "I'm gonna be sitting moving my arms. I don't see the danger."
- "I'm just saying"- she smiled, and she leaned to kiss his cheek.
- "You make it so hard to hate you, Jersey."
- "That's what my wife always says."
- "I love your wife so fucking much."
- "I love her too"- he chuckled- "Have you ever noticed our conversations always end up being weird?"- and she smiled.
- "That's 'cos you are so fucking weird, Frank"
Joey couldn't help but laugh in deep joy for a second. She loved her job and her bandmates. She was finally where she always wanted to get as a drummer. Her personal life was a mess, though. Was that the price to pay to be successful? Getting a shitty love life and a whole mess in your head?
- "I finally get what happened with Andy, in Devil Wears Prada... I hated that fucking movie, but shit, I feel just like her now."
The kids at that show were on fire, which helped the weary band perform better. It was getting harder and harder to keep on playing after all those months of touring. They all needed to get a few days off to sleep and do nothing. Traveling was exhausting. Joey had never thought about that until this leg of the tour.
- "Danke Germany!"- Gerard yelled, and the crowd yelled right away. Mikey turned his back to the kids and looked at Joey smiling. She looked happy when they were on stage. That's why he always kept an eye on her when they were performing.
- "Give me all your fucking money!"- Gerard shouted, announcing the next song- Well, are you ready, Ray?
- "Yeah!"
- "How about you, Frank?"- and Iero made the weirdest noises on the mic
- "How about you, Joey?"- and the girl widened her eyes smiling as Gerard stood in front of the drum, reaching out the mic to her.
- "Yeah!"- and Gerard grinned.
- "How about you, Mikey?"
- "Fucking ready!"
- "I think I'm alright! One, two, three, four!!"
It felt for a minute like she wasn't the supporting drummer but one of the band. And it felt incredible.
The hospital was busy. Nurses and doctors walked outside in the hallways. Matthew was trying to concentrate on anything, but he couldn't take his eyes off his phone. They had brought him lunch already, but he wasn't hungry- and Paget had left him an obscene amount of candy- so he left the tray untouched. He only had the jelly. And only because his mother forced him.
He was weary though, he felt hurt, physically beaten. He was taking it like a champ 'cos he didn't want to scare his mom, but in reality, he was shocked. He had never realized how short life could be. He had never had any kind of experience like this before, and this one showed him one thing: the important things in life are the simplest. The ones you take for granted.
- "What do I love the most in life? My family, watching my nephews grow up, my mom... Yami, my Yami's smile, her voice... everything about her"- Matthew's eyes were stuck in his cellphone's screen as he thought about everything that had happened in the last days- "If there is one thing I need every day for the rest of my life is having her next to me. I'm not gonna let her go, no matter what".
If he could travel in time and slap himself, he would. He would also kick himself in the nuts and never go to that party at all. But he couldn't. And he had to live with it. Somehow.
Joey yelled goodnight to her friends and ran out of the van to her room before anyone could say anything to her. On the ride back to the hotel, they had all been briefed about the next day. They were leaving at seven in the morning. They had to meet in the lobby. They had press and a radio interview in Copenhagen at one. And Joey had the chance to stay at the hotel and rest. Everybody told her to do so. And she didn't argue with that, she wanted to rest, and most of all, she didn't want to be at any interview or close to Gerard.
- "Goodnight, kids!"- she yelled and waved as she ran to the elevator. Gerard looked at her with a sorry glance, and his brother caught it right away.
- "Are you ok?"- Mikey asked and raised an eyebrow.
- "What? Yeah, I'm just tired"- the Way brothers looked at each other, both of them knowing the oldest was lying.
- "Sure... just don't let your exhaustion get in the way"- Mikey stated and walked away.
- "Wait, what the fuck?"- Gerard asked, making the, most likely, wrong decision to follow his younger brother.
- "Come on, Gerard! Stop denying it! You have a crush on her"- and Gerard groaned, exhausted from the same conversation. Mainly because he was running out of excuses to prove people wrong.
- "So do you! So does everybody! 'Cos you are all telling me the same shit over and over again when I don't!"- the brothers got into the elevator on their own and continued arguing.
- "I fucking know you! And I can't believe I didn't see it before! You are fucking drooling all the time! You look like a fucking teenager!"
- "Oh! shut up!"- Gerard frowned and crossed his arms on his chest- "I don't have a crush on her. I am a happily married man! Just because you have been obsessed with her ever since you met her doesn't mean so am I!"
They stayed in silence for a couple of minutes until the door opened on their floor, and both stepped out of the elevator.
- "Have you tried to get anything with her?"- Mikey asked and followed his brother to his room.
- "I don't wanna talk about this"- Gerard simply answered.
- "Which means yes."
- "No, I haven't 'cos I don't like her! I have no feelings for her!"- stains of red hair dye were on Gerard's neck as he scratched it, tired of the conversation, and at the same time tired of denying the truth. One part of him wanted to tell his brother, to have someone to finally open up.
- "I don't want you to hurt her, Gerard."
- "Thank you for being concerned about her the most, instead of your brother"- Gerard snorted and opened his door, followed by his brother. He took out his shoes and laid on his bed like a dead man.
- "I care about her, and if you have feelings for her, you are fucked up!"
And suddenly, it was just too much for Gerard.
- "I know"- the singer whispered, and his brother's chest tightened at those words- "Do you think I want this? It's fucking agony! She stays as far away from me as possible, and she rejected me when I told her how I feel"- Gerard chuckled at his words- "Can you believe that? It's high school all over again! She keeps pushing me away each time I try to get closer to her, ever since the beginning."
Mikey widened his eyes, listening to his brother's confession, as he stood in front of him in shock.
- "You told her you like her?"
- "Yeah"- Gerard whispered and sighed, defeated. It was useless to deny the truth anymore- "I told her I loved her from day one."
- "Did you try to... kiss her?"
- "I succeeded, actually. After months of longing and thinking about it, I kissed her...."
- "What did she do?"- Mikey was whispering, not believing a word. Had Joey kissed his brother?
- "She stopped, told me to get away from her... and when I tried again, and she kissed me back. I thought, "Shit Gerard, you nailed it, she likes you too!" but then she called me Matthew"- Gerard's voice shook, and his brother looked at him, nearly shocked. Was he going to cry? Was he that affected by the drummer?
- "When did you..."
- "After the show in Valencia."
- "You sick bastard! She was drunk!!"- the youngest Way nearly yelled and kept walking across the room, brushing his hands against his face and making a serious effort not to hit his brother- "What the fuck Gerard?! She was intoxicated, and you tried to kiss her?"
- "I didn't try. I told you I succeeded! It was so good, it felt so fucking right"- the singer made a pause and wiped off the few tears that fell from his eyes.
- "I can't believe it! You abused her when she was drunk!" - but Gerard ignored the accusation and continued talking.
- "She wasn't drunk the first time, by the way"- and Mikey frowned.
- "You kissed her more than once!"
- "Yeah, that day you left me alone with her... it was so sweet, so tender..."
- "She was fucking depressed, crying, and affected by her boyfriend!! Gerard! What the fuck is your problem!! It's the sickest shit I've ever heard you do!"
- "Don't you think I feel like the shit too? I know I fucked it up! I just couldn't help it! I love her! I can't stand the fact she is suffering for an asshole who cheated on her! I need to fix her! I needed to..."- but Mikey didn't let him finish.
- "You are married. You don't have the moral to judge Gubler for cheating!"
- "I know"
- "And you love her? You are married! Don't you love Lynz anymore?"
- "I love her so much, Mikey! That's what's killing me too! 'Cos I love both of them! I wanna be with both! I need to have them both!"
- "Dude... that shit is sick!"- Mikey was shaken.
- "I know! That's the worst part. I know what I feel is wrong! I can't love Joey. I can't mess things with her 'cos she works with us and is fantastic as our drummer. But at the same time, it's like she is a magnet I can't keep away from! Like she is my earth, and I'm her moon, orbiting around her!"
Gerard sat down and started crying.
- "I don't know what's wrong with me! From day fucking one! I looked at her, and I knew she was going to be the end of me! And I've been dealing with this all along..."
Mikey had no idea what to do. He was in shock. Sure, he knew Gerard was weird around Joey, but he never thought it would be this bad. He always thought he didn't like her. And it turned out to be the complete opposite.
- "Until this morning, I was sure she was going to leave, not only for her stupid boyfriend but because of what happened..."
- "That's why she had been giving you the cold shoulder"- Mikey whispered, thinking out loud.
- "And I deserve it, I guess. I kissed her and told her I loved her... what the fuck is my problem?"
- "I don't know, but you really fucked it up"- Mikey nodded in silence at his statement and finally sat next to Gerard. His older brother brushed his hands against his face and wiped off the tears.
- "I feel I love her, you know? Like... a fucking piece of my heart I never knew was missing just appeared, and I need to keep her close, no matter what, 'cos if I don't, I'm gonna die."
- "Well, you are gonna have to learn to let that part go, 'cos there is no way, and I mean it, no way she is ever going to be with you."
Mikey was brutally honest, in part 'cos he was mad at Gerard, but mostly because he knew it was the truth. Joey wasn't in love with him. And even if she was, she would never let him leave his wife for her.
- "I know... and yet, I can't stop trying"- Gerard made a pause- "I hated you so bad for being so close to her... you are all so fucking close to her."
- "I always thought it was weird you were so distant."
- "I didn't know how to act around her. She smiles, and I have no fucking clue what to say."
- "You are fucked."
- "Yeah"- the two of them made a long pause.
- "You are gonna have to get rid of your feelings, Gerard."
- "I know... any clue how?"
- "No..."
- "And knowing right now she is talking to him, that shit kills me"- Mikey sighed. That was killing him too. But he didn't say a word.
The computer was on the bed. Joey sat in front of it, FaceTime was open, but she still couldn't find the guts to press "call." She just stared at the screen and sighed. She wanted to know about him, she was worried about his health after the accident. But she didn't know how to deal with it. With the whole "you broke my heart" part of the conversation.
- "Ok, let's do this. And you are not talking about any feeling, just about his health. It's gonna be a short call."
And not thinking about it again, she started the video call.
- "Hello baby!"- Marilyn's face filled the screen, and Joey's body shook with fear, anxiety, and excitement.
- "Hi! How are you?"
- "Great! How was the show?"
- "It was amazing! The kids were nuts today!"- and Joey yawned- "But I am dead, sorry. I just showered and put on my pajamas."
- "That's ok..."- there was a silence, Joey knew what was gonna happen, and she decided to treat it like a band-aid
- "And how's Matthew?"- she just ripped it off, pretending it didn't hurt
- "He is right here. He has been waiting for your call all day."
- "Mom!"- he whined, embarrassed. Joey had to bite her lips not to smile as she heard his voice somewhere near the phone. She felt her body shaking at that sound.
- "I'm gonna let you two kids talk. I'll be outside, bye honey!"
- "Bye Marilyn!"
Joey waved at the screen and noticed all the movements when the phone left the woman's hand. Two seconds later, Matthew's face filled the screen, and her heart stopped. He was bruised. He looked severely hurt. And yet, he had a massive smile on her lips as soon as he saw her.
His heart started beating so fast on his chest as soon as he laid eyes on her, he was sure one of the machines around him was going to start beeping. Neither of them said a word for a moment. They just stared.
- "FaceTiming him was a mistake. A normal call would have been so much better,"- Joey thought and took a deep breath before saying- "Hey, how do you feel?"
- "Good... I'm good. It looks worse than it is, maybe 'cos I get bruised a lot... 'cos I'm so white and... I'm a peach"- Matthew started rambling.
- "What happened?"- Joey stopped his rambling 'cos she knew he could go for hours.
- "A truck missed a red light and hit my car, but I'm ok, really... not even a broken bone."
- "What about your knee?"
- "It's still in place."
- "Now that's a miracle!"- Joey chuckled and regretted it right away, she was melting, and hearing Matthew's laughter like a cascade of joy didn't help either. Her heart kept racing, and her palms were sweating.
- "Yeah! I thought I was gonna have to spend another year in those crutches."
- "It's a good thing they are still in your closet."
- "A part of me knew I was stupid enough to injure myself again"- the actor smiled and shrugged. However, that movement hurt, and he involuntarily winced in pain.
- "Are you ok?"
- "Yeah, I just... forgot that hurts"- Joey nodded and looked at him. She wanted to end that call before she would burst into tears, which was about to happen any second now.
He was the father of her child. They were having a baby together, and he had no idea. All the thoughts spinning around her head were too much. It scared her to think about how everything was going to be when it came to the moment to talk about it, and she was sure that the moment wasn't that one.
- "Well, you should rest. I just wanted to know if you were ok, and..."- the girl started saying, but Matthew stopped her.
- "Wait, no... don't hang up yet"- his voice was a plea, and desperation came from each word he spoke, even his eyes looked at her with sadness and longing- "Please talk to me."
- "We are talking. You are clearly in pain. Maybe you should rest."
- "Please, don't go. I needed to talk to you for so long."
- "No, Matthew."
- "I need you to listen. I need you to forgive me."
- "No, Matthew, I'm tired; I don't wanna do this, not now, not ever. I just called to know if you were ok. I can see you are not half as bad as I imagined, which makes me happy. But I don't wanna talk about us."
- "Fine, that's ok, we don't have to talk about us, let's talk about anything else."
- "Matthew"- Joey knew just talking to him about the weather was a threat. Why? 'Cos he was charming, and she loved him. She didn't want to forgive him, and seeing his face wasn't helping in keeping that resolution.
- "Please, tell me, how was your day?"- she sighed and looked away, locking her eyes in her nails- "How was the show?"
- "It was good"
- "When do you leave for Denmark?"
- "Tomorrow at seven."
- "It should be a long drive from Hamburg"- Matthew was honestly desperate to make conversation, and the subject made it obvious.
- "Jeffrey said four hours, time I plan to spend sleeping."
- "Are you doing any more press with the band?"- at that minute, anything that came through Gubler's head that could help him keep her in line was a good subject.
- "I hope not, at least not tomorrow"- Joey kept staring at her nails, avoiding his eyes. Matthew couldn't stop staring at her, sitting on her bed, in pajama, obviously exhausted but still talking to him. That was a good sign, right?
- "You looked gorgeous at the Valencia show"- he sort of whispered and saw her cheeks turning red of embarrassment- "I told you that was a great outfit."
- "Yeah... I remember"- she sighed and looked at him, raising an eyebrow- "So, did you actually watch it? I thought you would be working at the time."
- "I stopped everything and forced them to watch you play"- Joey chuckled at those words, and Matthew felt he was a tiny baby step closer to win her back- "I wasn't going to miss it. It was my chance to see you live, and you kicked ass."
The girl felt the blush in her cheeks as she looked at her fingers again, playing with them on the blanket of the bed.
- "Thanks..."- Matthew stayed quiet for a moment, just looking at her.
- "You look so beautiful tonight"- but she raised her eyes and frowned
- "Don't"
- "Sorry"- he whispered and sighed- "So... Paget came to see me today"- that was the only thing that came to his mind
- "How is she?"
- "Good, she bought me so many candies I'm gonna have a sugar rush until Halloween"- and he chuckled.
- "I'm jealous. Mikey took away all my candy today."
- "Why?"- the boy frowned.
- "He said I can't have that much sugar"- and Joey bit her tongue. She couldn't eat that much sugar being pregnant. She was pregnant with Matthew's baby.
- "What is he? The sugar police?"- and the girl slightly smiled.
- "Yeah, I guess he is."
- "How is he?"
- "He hates you."
- "I guess everybody hates me, I hate me... mom hates me."
- "I surely doubt it."
- "Believe me, she does."
- "Anyway, we are not talking about that..."
- "Are we ever going to talk about that?"- and Joey knew the answer to that - "Yes, I guess we will... we have to talk, "But not about what you are thinking, cheater."
- "Good, great, yeah, awesome, we have to talk, I need to..."- but Joey stopped him again.
- "Not now, not today. When I come back to Los Angeles, we can meet, have a coffee and talk about it."
Matthew nodded. He didn't have another choice but to agree with her terms. He wanted to talk to her, and he had to go along with her flow to win her back. Not along with his desires.
- "Do you want me to pick you from the airport?"
- "No thanks, I can take a cab."
- "You are gonna bring a million bags..."
- "I can handle it, don't worry"- her voice was so serious. Matthew knew he shouldn't insist.
- "Ok... how's your mom and dad?"
- "They are ok. They miss me."
- "I miss you too, so fucking much."
- "Ok, gonna hung up now."
- "I'm sorry, I just.... needed to see you."
- "And you saw me, and I wanted to know if you are ok, and now I know you are, so... I guess we are both..."- but no word came from Joey's lips for a second. She just zoned out, looking at Matthew- "I guess I should go, I have to get up real early, and I'm tired."
- "Of course, I don't wanna keep you up."
- "I'll call you when I get to Los Angeles."
- "Yes, please, let me know you are ok."
- "Do you know when you'll be discharged?"
- "In two days."
- "Good"- she nodded and bit her lips- "Ok, so, talk to you in a few days."
- "Yes... well... would it be ok if I called you sometime?"- she didn't know what to say- "Or text you, or something... just to make sure you are alright."
- "I'm alright."
- "I still get worried about you... traveling and all"- she looked at him, there was so much sorrow in his eyes, in his words.
- "You can text me if you want"- and a sigh of relief left his lips.
- "Thanks... now go to sleep."
- "Yeah, I will."
- "I love you"- he said, knowing those words might upset her, but he wasn't able to keep them in his chest any longer- "And I swear I'm gonna do whatever it takes to show you how sorry I am for fucking things up."
- "Bye, Matthew. Take care and say hello to your mom from me"- Joey ignored his last words and watched him for a few more seconds.
- "Talk to you later"- he murmured, fighting the tears that kept coming to his eyes
- "Bye"- Joey hung up and shut down the computer. In less than a second, she started crying, her heartbreaking and beating filled with love at the same time. Seeing him, hearing him. It was all too much.
- "How can I stop fucking loving you?! How on earth can you stop loving someone?!"
And as odd as it might be, Gerard was asking himself the very same question a few rooms away from her.
::: Denmark, March 15th, 2011 :::
Ray's arm felt numb underneath Joey's neck. But he didn't want to move it and wake her up. They were at the back of the bus, probably an hour away from Copenhagen. The girl had slept most of the trip after puking breakfast. The two of them had spent the whole journey there, with Mikey, mostly sleeping. They were all exhausted.
- "Hey guys!"- until Frank walked in and woke Mikey and Joey up- "Sorry, I didn't know you were sleeping"- he stood at the door with a sorry glance- "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to do the setlist now, 'cos we have been playing the same one for the last three shows, and it would be nice to make a few changes"- Ray nodded as Joey sat down, yawning.
- "Are we there yet?"
- "Not yet, Bug"- Ray smiled and moved his arm, feeling numbness and tingling- "Do you feel ok?"
- "Yeah, I'm hungry."
- "Here"- Mikey quickly grabbed a bag and gave her a cereal bar- "I got you healthy snacks when we stopped a while ago"- and he smiled, showing her a paper bag- "We've got everything you need to keep my nephew growing healthy."
- "Thanks"- she whispered, feeling awkward still just talking about her pregnancy like a common thing. She still didn't (or couldn't) believe she was pregnant.
- "So, setlist"- Frank sat next to his friends and started writing. They were halfway there when Iero turned to Joey and smiled- "Bug, pick a song"- and she frowned.
- "Why?"
- "We've been shitty friends. We never ask you what you wanna play."
- "That's 'cos I... you know, that's not my job, you are the band, you choose your songs."
- "And I choose you, like a Pokemon"- Frank grinned- "What would you like to play?"- Joey scratched her eyes and yawned again.
- "Vampires."
- "Done!"- and Frank wrote it down- "What else?"- the girl thought about it for a second
- "House of Wolves"- Ray smiled.
- "Loving your choices."
- "Thank you"- Joey finished her cereal bar and smiled- "Thank you, Mikey."
- "You are welcome, Bug"- a hum on the girl's phone caught her attention. It was a text from Matthew.
- "Hope you are having a nice trip"- and her heart raced, her cheek blushed, and her friends frowned.
- "Are you two in better terms?"- Ray asked, knowing neither Mikey nor Frank was going to ask without insulting Matthew.
- "Let's say I'm wrapping my mind around the fact I have to tell him he will be a father. I talked to him about his health, and that was it... nothing about us."
- "But he is texting you"- Mikey pointed out the obvious.
- "Yeah... but we are not back together. And I don't want to forgive him, so I'm ok"- the all nodded- "I just know I'm gonna have to deal with the whole baby thing with him, and I don't know if I wanna be mad at him the whole time"- they all nodded again- "I don't know what I'm doing"- she whispered.
- "If you want, we can say it's my baby"- Frank said with an honest smile- "I give them my last name. Matthew won't have a reason to be close to you, and everything will be awesome"- Joey chuckled at the idea.
- "You are so funny, Iero."
- "I wasn't joking. I can convince Jamia to go through the whole thing."
- "Shut up!"- Joey punched softly Frank's arm and smiled.
- "She wants to talk to you, by the way. Jamia"- the guitarist said and kept writing down in his notebook, avoiding making eye contact with the girl, just in case she would get upset.
- "That's cool."
- "I mean about your baby, in case you need any help... if you want to ask her things... she is there"- Frank finally looked at Joey and bit his lips- "I'm sorry I told her about that"- he made a pause, and Joey shook her head.
- "It's ok. I love Jamia... and I'm sure I'm gonna text her with a million questions in the next nine months, so... thanks"- the girl smiled and messed with Frank's hair. The four of them stayed quiet. Mikey was stuck at his book, Frank looked at the setlist and Ray at their schedule for the day.
- "Where's Gerard?"- Toro asked and looked around. Joey turned to the window, Mikey's eyes stuck at her. He was dying to talk to her about what had happened with his brother. He wanted to know her side of the story.
- "He is at his bunk"- Frank simply replied- "He has been there since we got into the bus."
- "Good, stay away from her,"- Mikey thought and went back to his book. Maybe his brother was doing the right thing for once.
It was three in the morning, and Matthew woke up for the hundredth time that night. It was hard to sleep at the hospital. There were many noises all night long, and nurses that came to put an eye on him. Just two more days, and he could go home. That idea made him happy. Six more days and Joey was going to be back in Los Angeles. The hum of his phone took him from his thoughts, and a smile lodged on his lips immediately.
- "Already in Denmark"- Joey had answered his earlier message.
- "How was the trip?"- he quickly typed and waited, staring at the screen. Joey looked at her phone and held her breath. She was lying on her bed, knowing she wasn't going to get any sleep. The tv was on, the sound in the background of her room made her feel a little less alone.
- "I slept most of the way"- she simply replied and closed her eyes. She felt like a schoolgirl talking with her crush. Decided to avoid her phone, the girl surfed channels for a while. But an incoming text took her complete attention. She wanted to read it so badly, but she didn't want to want to read it. If that made any sense at all.
- "I'm jealous. I can't sleep in this hospital,"- Matthew wrote and sighed. He looked around his room and his eyes laid on the stuffed animals still on the couch by his bed. The ones he had made for her. He just hoped she would like them.
- "Hospitals sucks,"- Matthew chuckled. He could almost listen to her voice saying that as he read it.
- "Food is the worst. I've been living on Paget's candies,"- but that message, Joey didn't reply. He waited for at least ten minutes, but no answer appeared on the screen. He closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't want to push things too fast, but at the same time, he couldn't help it, he needed to talk to her for hours, like before.
Joey was curled in bed, surfing channels, her phone hidden underneath a pillow. She knew talking to Gubler was a bad idea 'cos she loved him. So instead, she hid her phone from her and glued her eyes to the screen. Bad luck for her, "The Aquatic Life with Steve Zissou" was on. It was like life wasn't helping her at all. Matthew was everywhere. Including the movie she watched.
- "I should go get something to eat,"- she typed, giving up at the temptation. Gubler opened his eyes. It took the girl over half an hour to reply.
- "With the guys?"- he wrote quickly
- "No, I'm alone today, they are doing their band shit"- she sat on the bed and put on her shoes- "Talk to you later"- and finished the conversation.
- "Take care,"- Matthew answered quickly. He smiled and closed his eyes, sighing- "Baby steps, Gubler. Baby steps."
- "What the fuck are you doing, asshole?!"- Joey slapped herself mentally- "Stop giving him hopes. You are not getting back together."
Mikey wasn't himself that day. He wasn't mentally there at any of the interviews. His brother was in love with Joey. The thought of Gerard trying to kiss her was hunting him. It was sick. And when she was drunk, when she was sad. He even felt guilty for leaving her with him. Like he was responsible for his mistake.
- "And why the fuck didn't she tell me?! This is huge?! Doesn't she trust me? Isn't this important? I thought we were brother and sister! This is something you share with your brother!"
- "Mikey?"- Frank moved his hand in front of the bassist's face and frowned- "Are you here?"
- "Sorry, I spaced out... what is it?"
- "The interview is over; we can go"- Mikey looked around. He was the only one still sitting at the radio studio.
- "Right."
- "Are you ok?"
- "Yeah."
- "You are quiet."
- "I don't usually talk a lot in interviews."
- "Touché"- Iero chuckled and tapped on his friend's back- "Tired?"
- "Weary"
- "Just a few more days, hang in there"- Mikey nodded and walked with his friend. Gerard looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He didn't reply, not even with a gesture. Mikey just continued walking. He knew what he had to do. He just found it weird.
- "Hey"- he whispered, making sure his brother wasn't going to overhear his conversation and held his cellphone close- "Are you feeling good?"
- "Yeah"- Joey rolled in bed and sighed- "I already had lunch half hour ago, and it's still in my stomach, so I guess I'm awesome"- Mikey smiled.
- "Were you sleeping?"
- "No, just rolling in bed and coloring mandalas from time to time, watching tv."
- "We are going to the hotel now."
- "Great! Are you gonna nap?"
- "I wanted to hang out with you."
- "Great! Bring candies."
- "I'll bring healthy snacks for my nephew"- Joey sighed at those words. She wasn't ready to start talking about her baby.
- "A tiny little Snicker, for Christ Sakes. For your niece."
- "I'll think about it."
Joey watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, trying to wrap her head around the fact she was going to have a baby. Sure, she always thought about it, but not at twenty-six. Yes, she wanted to have a baby with Matthew, but not under those circumstances.
- "I guess I'll have to make the best of it"- she sighed, rubbing her belly sweetly- "You are gonna have Halloween every day, I swear"- Joey whispered- "I'm gonna make sure you've got everything I never had. Your dad is gonna go nuts when we tell him... I still don't know what kind of nuts, but I guess we'll have to figure it out."
She made a pause, thinking about Matthew telling her he wanted to fill their house with babies. Maybe he was going to be excited after all. Maybe.
- "Your uncle Mikey is gonna spoil you, that I am sure about"- the knock on the door took Joey from her conversation with her belly. Mikey stood at the other side, smiling and holding a fun size Snicker bag.
- "I'm going to give you one every day. That's gonna be your only candy, ok?"
- "Thank you!!"- Joey walked in, jumping in excitement, making her friend chuckle. He was slightly mad at her, but still, he couldn't be mean to her- "How was work?"
- "Boring, I think I fell asleep during most of the interviews"- the girl chuckled and sat indian style on her bed- "I can see you are watching kids movies already"- the bassist raised an eyebrow staring at the screen.
- "I happen to love this movie... I'm a Halloween kind of girl."
- "Yeah, I know"- Mikey stood in front of Joey, chewing a Snicker.
- "Aren't you going to sit down and watch this masterpiece with me?"
- "I need to talk to you about something first."
- "Shoot"- but Way didn't know how to start that conversation. He thought about it the whole morning, but he still had no clue. So instead, he mumbled some unintelligible words- "What is it?"
- "I just..."
- "Is it because I've been wearing a lot of your hoodies? I'm sorry, the ones I brought are Matthew's, and I don't feel like wearing his clothes."
- "No Bug, it's not that."
- "'Cos I'm wearing Frank's too... which is pretty weird 'cos he is my size..."
- "No, Joey. It's not about that."
- "Then why are you so serious?"
- "'Cos you never told me you kissed my brother"- and Joey's face fell.
- "Did he tell you?"
- "Clearly... what the fuck?"
- "I don't know!!"
- "Why didn't you tell me?!"
- "'Cos if I never told anyone, I could pretend it never happened! And I wish that never happened!"
- "What the fuck was that about?!"
- "I don't know, I felt like the shit, he kissed me, I didn't stop him right away..."
- "Do you like him?"
- "No!"
- "Do you love him?"- Mikey was serious about his questions- "'Cos he is sure he loves you."
- "I don't love him, Mikey. We both know there is only one shitty person I love"- Joey laid back on the bed and covered her face with her hands.
- "Do you think I'm proud? I should have never done that! and I definitely shouldn't have let him get to the point he got"- Mikey frowned.
- "What?"
- "So he didn't tell you he wanted to fuck?"- the girl simply replied- "When I was drunk... we kissed, at a certain point we made out, but I wasn't very conscious of what he was doing... I just... in my intoxication... I thought he was Matthew."
- "What the fuck?"- Way wide opened his eyes and turned to his friend in shock.
- "Yeah, it was sick..."- she whispered, embarrassed.
- "Joey, that's abuse!"
- "What? no!"- the girl gasped.
- "Joey, my brother tried to abuse you"- Mikey yelled- "You were drunk!"
- "Yeah, but..."
- "You were nearly unconscious, and he tried to make out with you?"
- "No! No! I mean, a part of me knew what I was doing. I just... didn't know who I was doing it with."
Honestly, that didn't sound like an excellent explanation of the facts. Joey was in denial of how bad things had gotten with Gerard.
- "Bug, that's not right! He knew exactly what he was doing, and he shouldn't have done that to you if you were drunk!"- Mikey's words resonated in Joey's head.
- "He didn't try to rape me. I mean, he stopped when I realized he wasn't Matthew... and honestly, I'm not trying to defend him, but I was pretty disgusted by my actions right away!"
Joey stood up and looked at her friend right in the eyes. At that moment, she decided the best she could do was take the pushy scene from the story, when Gerard didn't want to let her go. It was better to forget that moment and pretended it never really happened.
- "The first time he kissed me, I thought making out with your brother was the perfect revenge against Matthew, mostly 'cos he was always saying Gerard had a thing for me"- the girl sighed and pouted at her friend- "Who was ever going to think he was right?"- Mikey wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of your head- "I just didn't know that one kiss made him think we could do it again when I was drunk."
- "Please don't do stupid shit like this again"- she nodded
- "Your shirt stinks"- she joked, making her best to stop the serious conversation 'cos she couldn't stand arguing with Mikey, and less talking about that subject.
- "Sorry, I ran out of clean clothing 'cos I've got a friend who keeps wearing everything I own"- he chuckled, and Joey smiled, letting him go slowly to go back to the bag of candies- "I said just one a day."
- "Can I get an extra one today? Please?"
- "No, you are grounded, 'cos you did something incredibly stupid"- they stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, until Mikey smiled- "Fine, but only today"- she girl smiled and landed a kiss on Mikey's cheek.
- "Thank you. Besides, Ray is the only one who can ground me around here."
- "Right"- Joey chewed her Snicker and laid back in bed, tapping the spot next to her- "There's still one more thing."
- "Oh shit! I don't want to have more serious conversations. We've had enough of those already."
- "He claims to love you"- Mikey just said, and Joey closed her eyes, wincing.
- "I know! And I find it as stupid as false! We've barely talked this whole time! He has no idea who I am, what I like, or anything! He is just talking with his cock!"
- "And what are you gonna do about it?"
- "Stay as far from him as possible"- Mikey laid next to Joey and held her hand- "Do you think the others suspect anything?"
- "Frank, for sure. He has been arguing about it for days now."
- "Shit!"
- "But hey, hey, don't worry"- Mikey tapped on Joey's hand- "It's gonna be ok."
- "Bróðir"- the girl made a pause and never unglued her eyes from the screen- "I'm gonna have to leave."
- "No!"- his voice sounded serious and certain- "You don't have to!"
- "I'm nothing but trouble! This tour is more a soap opera than a job at this point! Breaking up with Matthew and having all of you taking care of me, now I'm pregnant, your brother claims to love me."
Joey turned to Mikey and cut him a shy smile.
- "Face it, if you had hired a male drummer, you would have had a quiet tour. Nothing to worry about, not all this fucking drama to deal with."
- "If we had hired anyone else, I would have had a miserable tour"- Mikey simply replied and messed with Joey's hair as the two of them returned to watch the movie- "So stop saying nonsenses."
- "I'm so sorry..."
- "Knock it off"
- "And I don't want you to be mad at your brother."
- "I'm not mad"- Joey raised an eyebrow and looked at Mikey- "Fine, I hate him right now, 'cos he has been acting like a fucking crazy jerk, and honestly, he nearly abused you, Joey!"
- "Don't hate him... let's pretend none of that weird shit ever happened, which is what I'm planning to do."
- "Fine"
- "And don't get all weird."
- "Fine"- Mikey sounded a little annoyed.
- "And don't make a fuzz if I stay away from him."
- "I'll support you, I'll even stay away from him myself."
- "Don't. He is fucked up. Maybe if he opened up with you, it's because he needs company or someone to help him overcome this... madness."
Mikey turned to Joey again and sighed. He disagreed with her, and he was planning to stay away from his brother and keep him away from Joey as well.
- "And how was your talk with Matthew?"- Joey's heart raced just by hearing his name- "The red cheeks are giving you away."
- "It was... ok, I guess."
- "And now you are texting"- she sighed and huffed.
- "I'm gonna have a baby with him, Mikey. It's hard."
- "And you love him."
- "Not the point... and that's all I'm saying about that subject."
- "Ok"- Mikey wrapped an arm around Joey's neck, and she rested her head on him- "Let's watch the movie before we have to leave for the arena."
Mikey wasn't mad at Joey. He was scared she might consider leaving the band. He loved having her there. She was honestly his anxiety shield, and he couldn't deal with that tour without her. Not at the moment. He was alone. He felt alone, and she was the one with him always. Ray had Christa, Frank had Jamia, Gerard had Lynz (and it was now obvious: he also had a stalking problem).
Mikey had Joey. At least when they were on the road. Hiding in their friendship and brotherhood was the only way he could handle loneliness. Or to avoid it.
**
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#gerard way#Mikey Way#Matthew Gray Gubler#Frank Iero#frank iero#ray toro#babymetaldoll writes#mgg fanfic#mcr fanfic
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Heather
Inspiration: The song Heather by Conan Gray
Pairing: Kuroo x Reader, Kenma x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Insecurity, Toxicity, my shit writing😀
Word count: 4.8k
A/N: Hiya!! Honestly not sure how I really feel about this one. It was definitely self indulgent bc I’ve been OBSSESSED with this song lately. The ending went a little different than I intended. I hope you all enjoy <33
P.S ~ I tried really hard to make this gender neutral so if I missed anything or slipped up somewhere please lmk and I’ll fix it right away!!
You still remember that night like it was yesterday. It was the 3rd of December. You were in your first year of college, Kuroo in his last. Kenma was there too. But he was being his usual quiet self and even left early that night.
You all had gotten into The University of Tokyo coming out of Nekoma. During your first year at Nekoma High, you were asked to be the manager of the boys VBC. Having played Volleyball in middle school but suffered from a knee injury your doctor advised a break from any sports, you quickly accepted, still wanting to be involved with the sport one way or another. That’s where you met the odd pair. It took you by surprise that the intimidating looking VBC captain was actually a big ol’ softy and that his best friend was none other than the quiet and antisocial setter, Kenma Kozume.
You were like their baby sibling. Always needing their protection whether you wanted it or not. Nothing much changed when the oldest graduated. He would always meet up with the 2 of you after classes, often walking you home. When it was just you left at Nekoma it was still the same thing. The two boys would meet you at the gates of school and walk you home before heading back to the campus dorms.
The day you graduated the 3 of you celebrated with a trip to Miyagi to visit your friends from Karasuno and party. A few of them had gotten into The University of Tokyo themselves and would soon become your classmates instead of rivals.
Fast forward back to December 3rd of your first semester of college. It was Thursday night. Tradition stood that you, Kenma and Kuroo always spent the afternoon/evening after a long week of classes together. You were all fortunate enough to be supported by your parents so you didn’t have to worry about part time jobs.
It was a chilly night, more so than you expected it to be. Kenma had just left, mumbling something about needing to edit and post a video to his YT channel. You and Kuroo bid the gamer a goodnight but stay out. Neither one of you were quite ready to call it a night just yet. Spending time alone with just Kuroo had always made you a bit nervous. You didn’t know why, you had known the man for almost four years now. It’s not like his company is a foreign concept to you, it was just usually accompanied by Kenma. In all honesty you really knew what it was but you never let yourself entertain the idea.
But that night was different. The moment Kenma left the whole vibe changed. The aura went from light to tension filled. You immediately began to wring your hands together as the two of you sat on a bench at the park closest to the dorms and Kuroo’s apartment. There was supposed to be a meteor shower that night. You had seen a handful of shooting stars but nothing tremendous yet. You were starting to feel disappointed after looking forward to this all month and still not getting the shower you imagined. I mean you’re an astronomy major for God’s sake. You get extra credit in 2 of your classes if you come into class next week with proof you watched the meteor shower.
You huff as another wave of shivering wracks through your body. Your shivering doesn’t go unnoticed. Kuroo has always had a sharp sense for little details and your shivering was no exception. He took a glance at you from the corner of his eye, trying to be as subtle as possible. You’re wearing a long sleeve thermal and a thin jacket.
“Baka, why didn’t you wear more layers?” Lucky for you, Kuroo, under his hoodie and thicker jacket, was wearing a thermal under a long sleeve. So he didn’t mind shedding a layer to share it with you.
You pout at the rooster haired man with a red nose and chattering teeth. “I- d-didn’t realize it w-was gonna be thi-s cold-d.”
Kuroo pulls off his old VBC hoodie that has the word “captain” and “Kuroo” right underneath written in small lettering on the breast and hands it to you. You stare at it for a moment too long. “C’mon. Take it. You need it way more than I do right now.”
You huff but take the sweater anyway. Kuroo chuckles.
“Thanks.” You mumble while taking off your jacket and pull the sweater on. It’s warm from Kuroo’s body heat and it smells of cinnamon, like him. You sigh in satisfaction as you put your jacket back on. “Thanks, Tetsu.”
“You already said that. Plus, it looks better on you than it does on me anyways.” He shrugs but the blush that creeps onto his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed by you. You’re a little stunned by his words. Sure, Kuroo has complimented you before but never on your appearance. That always seemed to be something that he steered clear of and now you know why. Your heart skips a beat before quickening from his simple yet loaded words.
You look at the large man with shining eyes and mouth slightly agape. When he looks back at you he swears the whole earth stops turning for a moment. He could cry from how adorable you look in his sweater. Practically swimming in the large piece of fabric. He doesn't know what it is about you lately, but he’s been noticing that ever since you graduated, maybe even a little before that, there was something about you that made you a constant thought in his mind. He finds himself thinking, more often than not, about how soft your lips look or how you would feel in his arms.
Those very thoughts were flooding Kuroo’s mind at that very moment in time and he realized a little too late that he had been leaning in closer to you while thoughts of you ran rampant in his distracted mind. You had noticed it. His slow descent to close the space between the two of you. The way his head dipped so that you two were eye level, the slightly glazed over look in his hazel orbs meaning he was overthinking something.
You let your voice squeak out in the form of a question. “Uh… Kuroo? What’s wrong?”
The large man snaps out of his reverie and stares shocked at just how close you are. He licks his lips, mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Then he makes a split second decision, he’s going to indulge himself and his thoughts for once. He’s going to be impulsive, not think about the possible consequences of his actions.
“Can I try something?” Kuroo’s deep voice comes out low and breathy.
Your heartbeat quickens for the second time tonight and you can’t seem to find your voice, so you simply nod your head. At your silent permission, Kuroo cradles your jaw into his large calloused hand. His face moving further to close most of the space left between your lips. You can feel his warm breath fan over your features. A nervous knot forms in your stomach but your chest is bursting with excitement.
“ ‘M gonna kiss you. That okay?” Hazel meets e/c. He patiently waits for your permission once again. You nod but the cat-like man shakes his head.”I need to hear you say that it’s okay. Please.”
You swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat and clear it away. “Yeah. I- I think I would like that, Testu.”
Kuroo didn’t need any other confirmation. He leaned in the rest of the way and your lips met. The kiss was sweet. It wasn’t long or particularly passionate. But… it was nice. His lips were slightly chapped from the cold weather but still soft and warm. He knew how to apply the right amount of pressure too, just enough to let you know his actions were meant. When it’s over you barely separate from each other. Surrounded by a cloud of your warm breath, Kuroo Chuckles.
You hum dazed, waiting for him to say something. “Didn’t realize I wanted to do that so bad. I hope that was okay?”
You steal a glance into Kuroo’s eyes. His gaze is steady and earnest. But still, somehow, something feels slightly off. “Neither did I.” You mumble in response.
The rest of that night was spent in each other’s arm stealing kisses and glances from one another. It was almost perfect.
Almost.
After that night, the two of you spent more time together alone. Kuroo would casually kiss you on the lips or even makeout with you here and there when you two were in situations where Kenma wasn’t there,when you were alone. But if Kenma was there he would keep his distance. This went on for the rest of your first year.
You let the seed of hope that was planted that first night you kissed, grow into a certain type of adoration that was held only for romantic partners. You cared for Kuroo in a much deeper way now than you had before. You had always found the large man attractive sure, but you found your other best friend, Kenma, attractive as well. You were never directly attracted to them. Until now. It felt like your attraction to Kuroo coursed through your veins and traveled throughout your entire being. Each day you spent alone with him brought you closer to thinking the two of you could be more than friends.
Second year of college was when everything changed. You and Kenma had a computer science class together. You were minoring in it. You wanted to create programs that tracked the stars and planets and you knew that if Astronomy didn’t work out, as it often didn’t, computer programming was an easy career to get into and something you actually quite enjoyed.
Lucky enough Kuroo had a class next door to yours at around the same time as you two so you all decided that you would walk to and from that last class of the day together. It was the end of the first day of classes that you saw the shift. You and Kenma were let out of class early for the first day and sat directly outside, waiting for Kuroo. His class was let out early as well so you didn’t have to wait long. You watch the students all shuffle out, eagerly awaiting the presence of your point of attraction. When his tall frame finally appears in the doorway it was accompanied by a much smaller one.
She’s smiling at Kuroo with brilliantly white and straight teeth. Her lips are full and naturally pink. Her stunning smile reaches her large blue eyes, which are sparkling with genuine interest. Her cheeks are dusted with a rosy tone, letting you know that she’s interested in Kuroo. Then you notice Kuroo. His smile is wide and there’s this look in his eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. The two stand off to the side, not even noticing the pair waiting for the dark haired student. You observe them as the girl laughs at something Kuroo said and her whole being lights up brighter than the blue sky. Your stomach drops when her hand lightly falls onto Kuroo’s shoulder and a blush creeps onto his features.
You feel sick to your stomach. How could you compete with someone like that. She was stunning, gorgeous, beyond pretty. How were you supposed to compare to someone like that? You couldn’t. There was no competition in your mind, she was miles above you and no amount of time would ever allow you to be on the same level as her.
Kenma was doing some observing of his own. He had been for the last 6 plus months. Kenma isn’t stupid and his time playing volleyball as a setter proved that he was actually very sharp and extremely observant. Kenma had seen the way you had started acting around Kuroo and it pissed him off because it was obvious that whatever was going on between the two of you, was one sided. Kuroo had no intention of taking things further with you, at least not anytime soon. But still, the large man was spending a lot more alone time with you than he had previously in your 4 year long friendship.
Kenma watched with his blood boiling as your heart began to crack and it made him want to punch Kuroo right in his face. The idiot still hadn’t noticed the two of you. He was in his own little world with this strange girl. He was totally oblivious to the shattering of one of his best friend’s hearts.
Having had enough, Kenma calls out to the rooster idiot. “Kuroo. We’re leaving. You can come if you want but I’m sick of waiting.”
Kuroo gave you two a look of shock, it was clear that he was just noticing you two for the first time since walking out of his classroom. “Ah. Uh- yeah. Just give me one sec, yeah?”
Kenma crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance but doesn’t move. You both watch as numbers are exchanged between the two classmates. Then the girl turns to the both of you. “Sorry for stealing your friend from you. I didn’t realize you were waiting for him. If I had, I would’ve cut the conversation short. Thanks for being so patient. Bye Kuroo. I’ll talk to ya later. Bye Kuroo’s friends.” With another heart stopping smile and wiggle of her fingers the stunning girl walks off.
Kuroo watches her form disappear before granting you his attention. He didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. He smiled widely but you noticed very quickly that he wouldn’t meet your gaze. For the rest of the day Kuroo spoke about his new friend and didn’t once look you in the eye.
Over the next few weeks Kuroo found every excuse to either bring Kenma along to hangout with the two of you or to not hangout at all. He wouldn’t shut up about the girl in his class. You had learned that her name was Heather. She was studying abroad from America but her father was born in Tokyo, Japan and lived here until he was 18 years old. So she spoke fluent Japanese with little to no accent. She was also very sweet and as much as you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.
Heather became a constant after that. She was now a friend too. Kenma got along with her but he was still reserved around her for your sake. In all honesty Kenma didn’t care for her. But he knew that she had to be special to Kuroo if he was willing to do whatever it is he did to you for this Heather girl. So, Kenma forces himself to play nice. The gamer has always had an extremely soft spot for you. He couldn’t quite explain it, he’s never been very good with emotions but he did know that you were extremely special to him.
Everything came to an all time low a few months after adjusting to life with Heather in it. You were all meeting up at Kuroo’s for a movie night. You decided to go a little early to get some things off your chest with Kuroo. You missed the friendship you had with him before everything and wanted to at least clear the air so he could stop avoiding you. You knocked on the door softly and waited a few minutes before knocking again, a bit louder this time. You heard a noise come from inside. Worried for your friend you fish out the spare key he gave you for emergencies and enter his apartment.
A big mistake. The second you enter, the whole apartment is filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin and strangled moans of Kuroo’s name falling from a familiar silky voice. Heather. They were here, in Kuroo’s apartment, having sex right before movie night. You’re frozen in place with your hand still stuck on the door handle. You’re slow to process what’s happening but the second it all settles in you feel the familiar sting of tears welling up in your eyes. You refuse to let them fall until you get the hell out of here. Quietly leaving the way you came in, you cross the threshold of Kuroo’s apartment leading to the hallway of the building. It takes everything in you not to slam the door shut. You don’t want to alert the couple that someone had heard what they were doing.
The moment you have the door shut you run. You almost make it to the entrance without encountering anyone but then you run into someone, causing you to lose your footing and fall on your ass.
“Y/N?” Kenma’s soft voice breaks through the fog of your brain.
You look up at faux blonde as you finally let the tears stream down your cheeks and neck. “Kenma-”
You sob. Unable to get any other words out you reach out to him like he’s your lifeline and he takes you in his arms. “Let’s go.” It’s all he needs to say. He leads you to his car, knowing full well that you walked here from the dorms less than a mile away. Trusting Kenma 100%, you stay silent and let him take you to wherever it is he’s going, assuming his apartment.
Your assumption is right as you pull into the familiar parking garage. You pull out your phone which has been buzzing with messages in your pocket. You check and see it’s Kuroo, Heather and Kenma in the groupchat.
You hadn’t realized while reading, Kenma had gotten out and went around the car to open your door for you. The second he sees your screen he sighs. Gently, he takes your phone from out of your grasp and tucks it into his pocket. “You don’t need to read that right now.”
He’s right of course. You’re still a mess. You have tears streaming down your face, your nose is red and runny, and your eyes are puffy and red. Your sweater sleeves are wet from rubbing away your tears. You can’t even imagine what other people would think of you if they saw you right now. Crying over a guy that was never really yours? How pathetic. You think to yourself.
Kenma tugs you out of your seat and shuts the car door behind you. The gamer doesn’t let go of your hand until you get into his apartment. Even then, he only lets go of your hand to hold you in his arms on his bed while he lets you stain his sweater with fresh tears. You’re not sure how long you stay like that but it’s dark out by the time you calm down.
Kenma was furious. At one point he began to cry himself. Words could not describe what Kenma wants to do to Kuroo for causing this. The two of them were supposed to protect you from heartbreak like this. Yet here you were sobbing, pouring your broken heart and soul out in the form of tears, because Kuroo had strung you along and tossed you aside when he’d found something he liked better.
You whimper a few times before going silent. Your face is buried in Kenma’s now very wet chest while you fist his sweater pocket. You let yourself just breathe a few times before forming coherent thoughts. The first words to stumble out of your mouth are raspy and barely audible. But Kenma hears them nonetheless.
“ ‘M sorry.” It’s slurred and you hiccup immediately afterward, drunk from the dehydration caused by your prolonged crying.
Kenma’s grip on you tightens. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
You whimper in response. He’s right of course. Logically, you shouldn’t be the one apologizing. But in your mind it was your fault for letting yourself fall for one of your best friends in the first place, when you felt- knew- nothing would come of it.
Kenma sighs sadly. “ You need to eat something. I’ll order a pizza while you take a bath. It’ll help. You can borrow one of my hoodies and a pair of underwear. I’ll wash what you’re wearing so you can put it back on in the morning. You know where everything is.”
You nod your head and slowly make your way to the bathroom. Kenma was right, funny enough, a bath is exactly what you needed in that very moment. You wash away the now crusted over salty tear stains from your eyes and cheeks and mucus stains from under your nose. Your eyes are tired and still pink rimmed and puffy but other than that, you look much better than you did when you first entered the bath. You take a moment to just relax in the steaming hot water before getting out and towel dry yourself. You wrap the towel around your body to keep your modesty and exit the bathroom. You can hear Kenma ordering food in the living room. You're thankful that he was giving you your privacy. Not even chancing the sight of you in a towel.
Luck for you, Kenma has a surplus of oversized clothes. He’s always expressed how oversized hoodies and shirts just make him feel more comfortable in his skin. You pull on a pair of Kenma’s boxer briefs and let yourself get swallowed by what you thought was a plain black hoodie. At second glance you notice the white B on the left sleeve cuff and the hood. You smile to yourself. Grateful that your longtime best friend has been so successful in life. This hoodie being a reminder of that very success.
You keep the hood up and trudge over to the living room where you find Kenma quietly sitting on the couch, hands clapped together with his cell in between them. Kenma is slouched over with his elbows resting on his knees and chin resting on his fingertips, he seems to be in deep thought. You clear your throat and Kenma’s eyes immediately shoot up to you.
“Sorry. Was just thinking ‘bout something. Pizza should be here soon. How was the bath? Made you feel better?” Kenma still seems distracted but his attention is on you.
“Yeah. The bath was nice. Thanks for letting me borrow some clothes. What were you thinking ‘bout?”
“What happened with Kuroo?” Kenma takes a deep breath almost as if he’s calming himself down. “And I don’t just mean today. I mean what’s been going on the 6 months before Heather that led to what happened today.”
You sigh. You let a few moments pass to gather your thoughts before spilling everything to Kenma. You tell him about the first night, after he had left. Then what had been happening the 6 months after. Kenma listens intently. He feels himself becoming increasingly angry with himself and with Kuroo. They both let this happen. Kuroo directly and Kenma indirectly by not saying anything.
“I thought we… I thought there was something there and then Heather just wedged her way in. I-I can’t even bring myself to hate her, Kenma.” You send the faux blonde a sad smile while smoothing your hand over your head and let it rest at the back of your head. “She’s just so sweet and perfect. She’s such an angel. But then again, kinda wish she were dead. And that makes me feel like shit. I’m such a terrible person for feeling like that. The worst part is she hasn’t even done anything to me. It’s not her. I should be mad at Kuroo. I should hate Kuroo. But I jus-”
You breathe in a shaky and shallow breath before continuing. “I can’t. He’s one of my best friends but I feel like I'm losing him even as a friend. I get it. I get that we weren’t meant to be. I’m fine with that. The thing is he’s been acting so cold towards me ever since she came into the picture. I don’t know what to do! He won’t even let me talk to him! I went over early today because I wanted- needed to talk to him! I needed to clear the air between us! But instead I walked into his apartment and heard him having sex with Heather!” You wipe at your eyes with the sleeves of the sweater Kenma has loaned you. You become increasingly irritated with yourself. Why did this have you so worked up? You weren’t even that broken about it anymore. You truly thought you were moved on from this. But the thought of Kuroo being intimate with someone else without so much as just talking with you snapped something inside of you.
“I thought… I thought he respected me more than that. I get that I’m not even half as pretty as her. I get that I’m not as good of a match for him. I get that he’ll never be in love with me. But before whatever the fuck we had going on started, we were friends. As his friend I deserve to be respected. Right, Kenma? Am I wrong?” You feel desperation rising up from your chest like bile. Your word-vomit spewing out without reason. You’re not even paying attention to what you’re saying. But Kenma is. He’s holding on to every word like his life depends on it.
You’re ready to continue but Kenma can’t bear the thought of you voicing any more doubtful thoughts you have of yourself, so he faces you completely and carefully but authoritatively holds your face in his hands. “Ken-”
“Stop. I- just stop. Kuroo is a dumbass. We’ve known that for years. But this a new level of idiocy. And you. Stop that, stop putting yourself down. You’re the most beautiful human being I have ever laid eyes on and Kuroo is intelligently inept if he can’t fucking see that. She is not prettier than you, she is not smarter than you- Hell she’s not even as good of company as you are.” Kenma didn’t expect to be this affected by your words, but he was. He couldn’t stand the fact that you thought you were inferior to anyone because that’s not at all how he sees you.
“Kenma…” You whisper. You had never in your 4 years of knowing him hear him speak this way. He was always reserved, calm and quiet but right now he was the stark opposite. He was tugging on his hair, voice raised, and eyes wild with desperation.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything about you and Kuroo. I just let it happen. I should’ve done something or at the very least been there to support you. And god I wish I was better with words, I wish I could tell you- show you how I see you because in my eyes you’re the one that makes everyone else look inferior. You’re the one that has the brightest smile and eyes. The one that has a personality to rival.The one that I… I adore.”
Suddenly it hit you. You knew what Kenma was trying to tell you but didn’t know how to quite express it. How did you not see it? Kenma was always so kind to you and treated you with the utmost respect. To you that was just Kenma, that was who he was, but it really wasn’t. Kenma is blunt and won’t tell you what you want to hear but what you need to hear. Kenma doesn’t like people but he likes you. He frequently bashes Kuroo but frequently compliments you. All the little things he does for you suddenly feel huge coming from Kenma because.... He doesn’t do that for anyone else.
You stare incredulously at your successful friend. He’s blushing and won’t meet your eyes. “Kenma- I never realized…” You laugh nervously and that catches Kenma’s attention. “ I guess I shouldn’t have been so focused on Kuroo this whole time. Am I too late? Did I mess it up?”
Kenma chuckles softly and takes your face into his hold once again, this time a lot softer. “No. You didn’t mess anything up.”
You smile genuinely for the first time in months. “Good. I might need a little more time and to speak with Kuroo, for closure, but if you're willing…” You gaze up at Kenma through your lashes silently pleading with him.
“I’ve waited for you this long, What’s a little more time?”
#hq#haikyuu#hq!!#haikyuu!!#heather#song fic#hq song fic#hq kenma#hq kenma kozume#hq kozume#hq tetsuro#hq tetsuro kuroo#hq kuroo#kenma#kenma kozume#kozume#tetsuro#tetsuro kuroo#kuroo#kenma x reader#kenma kozume x reader#kozume x reader#tetsuro x reader#tetsuro kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader#tam writes#katsuki-bakuhoee writes
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Pairing: dark!Sebastian Stan x Reader
Warning: yandere, swearing, some non-con implications towards the end.
Words: 2069.
P.S. JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAVE I DONE I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON I HOPE NO ONE WHO REALLY MET SEBASTIAN GONNA READ THIS
ghjdfyjdfds I’m so sorry guys
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“I asked for a vanilla latte with extra milk, not caramel cappuccino.”
You rolled your eyes at his irritated remark. You knew Sebastian wasn’t in his best mood this morning and expected him to make your day nastier just because he felt like it.
“Sorry, but I’m sure it was caramel cappuccino. You asked for some cinnamon on the top, remember?”
“No, I didn’t.” He snarled and looked at you, giving a mocha frappe to Jill, his hair artist. “I asked for a vanilla latte. If you suffer from memory loss, you’d better visit your doctor once we get back to US.”
What an asshole. Mary, who was now applying some makeup on Sebastian’s face with her beauty blenders and brushes, bit down on her lip: she had been watching how he treated you for the last 3 weeks, and it was a living nightmare. It was very odd since Sebastian was on good terms with pretty much everyone around, but you were always an exception. Why? Neither Mary nor Jill could tell. There was nothing revolting in the way you behaved around Mr. Stan, simply doing your job as his assistant. You were getting him coffee every morning, buying some personal stuff for him, managing his meetings… but you were more an errand girl, that’s true. It was surprising for most of the other people surrounding you two, but you didn’t object to your tasks. You were furious because of the way Sebastian treated you.
He was mean, unfair, irritating, and rude. You didn’t deserve it.
“Well, my voice recorder tells I got everything right.” You pulled it from the pocket of your below-knee sheath skirt, ready to press the button.
“What the fuck is that?” The man rose to his feet immediately, almost pushing frozen Mary out of his way and stepping towards you. “How many times do I have to tell you? NO. FUCKING. RECORDERS.”
He was ready to snatch it from your hands, yet you were able dodge him right on time, hiding the recorder in your pocket again.
“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I’ll put it away!” In a second you were behind Jill’s tall figure as if you were a child hiding from a bad-tempered parent, Sebastian watching you with anger in his cold blue eyes. “I’m not going to use it. But it’s still true, you asked for caramel cappuccino.”
“Guess what? I don’t fucking care.” He growled in a low voice. “You’ll go and get me vanilla latte because it’s your goddamn job. And I want my coffee before Jill’s finished with my hair, understood?”
Watching his with clear disdain on your face, you cursed under your breath. It was freaking hot in Prague where Sebastian was filming now and getting out the second time just to run to Starbucks once more would sure ruin both your makeup and a white blouse you had been wearing. Damn it.
“God, why do you have to be such a bastard most of the time?” You snapped at him, visibly shaking with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a closet psycho or what?”
“I’m the one who pays you, honey.” He smiled at you the same way he always did it in front of the camera and you felt sick.
You stormed off the room without having a glance back at his perfect white teeth. Sebastian Stan was the worst person you had ever met, and you were working for him, seeing him every day and listening to his orders as if you were his pet. How did it come to this? Why did he look like the most perfect human being to you six months ago? What made him behave like that to you when in reality it was him who offered you a job?
God, it was all messed up. You did not remember when things got so bad you could yell at each other in a full voice. It was actually surprising, someone like you shouting and swearing at one of the world’s most famous actors, but it was something Sebastian let you do. Like he wanted you to scream at him regardless who surrounded you whether it was his makeup artists, agents, cleaning ladies or anyone else. It was like he got off on it.
True, this job payed well, much better than the one you had before. Moreover, in these 6 months you saw more countries than you did in your entire life, travelling with Sebastian everywhere and meeting tons of new people, many of them being great professionals. It was inspiring; it made you dream of all the things you thought were impossible; it made you curious and gave you a chance to practice your networking skills.
But Sebastian was fucking blowing it. After six months of constant everyday battles filled with rage and pure hatred you had gained weight, 10 pounds to be precise. Now you were having problems to sleep, and you knew it wasn’t the jet lag.
Anyway, you spent the whole day running around the city to buy him this or that. In the evening you were so tired you could barely move your legs while Sebastian was clearly pleased seeing you like that. It probably stroked his enormous ego.
Fuck it. You didn’t deserve a minute of it. You were not going to let him ruin you for fun, just because he could it since he payed you. Why did you spend you precious time trying to please him? Sure, you still considered him one of the best actors on the planet, but the things he did to you were not ok. He wasn’t ok. Maybe he really was a psycho or had some disorder he didn’t want to treat, you had no idea. But you knew it couldn’t continue like that. It was too much.
You spent an hour writing an email and asking to be laid off. It was just a few lines, simple and professional, yet you were constantly adding and then erasing new sentences. You shouldn’t make it personal, you thought to yourself. You doubted you could leave on agreeable terms, but you needed to give it a try. Even if your last argument with Mr. Stan might be the worst of them all, it would be your last one. It was worth it.
Sighing, you decided to take a stroll before going to bed. 15 minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You’d have some fresh air and enjoy the view of Prague’s Powder Gate – you were lucky to stay right in the center of this magnificent old city. You could make some more photos to show your friends once you return back home. It was also nice to just sit on a bench and look at the night sky full of stars.
Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so guilty for leaving Sebastian and your team.
In the end, it took you way more that 15 minutes, but your late-night walk made your thoughts clear and left no regrets about your choice. What was happening between you and Sebastian wasn’t right, and you could do nothing but leave. With so many people wishing to work for him he would get another assistant in a matter of hours, and you would get your life back. Those money you earned would keep you afloat quiet some time even if you wouldn’t be able to get a job right away.
“What is this, Y/N?”
His voice almost made you jump. Sebastian stood up from the chair in the corner of your room once you put on the lights. What the Hell was he doing here so late? How did he open the door? If he needed anything, he could simply give you a call.
Oh. You saw your little black recorder in his hand.
“I told you I won’t use it anymore.” Your jaw clenched.
“I’m not talking about this piece of shit.”
He tossed your recorder on your bed as if he couldn’t care less and moved towards you so fast you had no time to step back.
“What is this pathetic email you wrote?” Sebastian’s handsome face darkened. “Are you not right in the head? You want to leave?”
“Yes, I do. What’s wrong with that?” Your expression hardened. He dared to touch your laptop when you weren’t there. “I thought you’d be glad to know. Today you told me three times I didn’t deserve working for you, correct?”
“You know perfectly well I wasn’t serious.”
“God, I have a hard time telling when you’re serious since all you do is hating me.”
He sent you an icy glare.
“You know I don’t hate you. You just happen to bring the worst in me, dear.”
There he was again. God, were you going to have this argument right now when you were deadly tired? You hoped it could wait till tomorrow, but it was clearly not your luckiest day.
“If you want to blame me again, it’s ok. I’m the worst one. I’m a bad person and a terrible assistant.” You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed again, scratching your forehead. “I get it. What I don’t get is why you aren’t happy I’m leaving.”
“Because I don’t want you to leave. If I really hated you so much, I’d already found another assistant, but I don’t want that.”
“Listen, let’s stop playing our games just for a few minutes.” This conversation made you feel even more exhausted. “We don’t get along. You don’t like me. Why do we torment each other? I don’t even remember the last time we had a regular conversation without shouting and cursing.”
“I’m not playing games with you, dear. You do.” He had already cornered you, his face determined and somewhat unsettling. “What do you want? A raise? More benefits?”
You were ready to yell at him again.
“Did you listen to what I just said? I want to leave. I want to come home and forget about all our horrible fights. I want to have a steady and boring job back in US. Do you understand?”
“NO, I DON’T!” The man screamed at you again, and now you suddenly felt his arms clenching your shoulders painfully and winced from his touch. “I already told you to stop toying with me! After all this shameless flirting and batting your eyes you wanna tell me you’re leaving? Do you think I’m so stupid to believe in this bullshit?”
It took you a few seconds to process his words. What? Flirting? Well, you did consider him handsome and charming, who on Earth didn’t, but you had never pulled anything like that. At first, it was because of your professionalism, and then your relationships escalated so fast you knew that he hated you and you hated him. What Sebastian had been even talking about?
You felt very aware how close he was once you felt his heavy breath on your face. He never did this before.
“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I want to leave. That’s all.” You tried pushing him back with your hands against his chest. “Please, let me go. I need to… t-to go to the kitchen.”
“You’re going nowhere, dear.” His expression darkened. “Tell me the truth. You don’t want me to treat you like my assistant? I get it, I get it, it’s fine. I can treat you like my girl in front of everyone if that’s what you want.”
“No! I – “
His put his hand on your mouth immediately, leaning in closer.
“It’s ok, I understand. I grew tired of pretending like nothing happens between us, too. You want me to let everyone now? It’s ok. I’ll post our photo on Instagram tomorrow. Is this what you want? Is this what you want?”
You tried to scream, but his grip on you was too strong as if Sebastian was really some kind of super soldier. Desperately trying to wriggle free you only got him to hold you tighter, his soft lips all over your face already wet with tears.
“It’s ok, dear. I got it.” He shushed you, trying to keep your arms together with his hand and pushing his knee in between your legs. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I understand now, so you don’t have to go. You won’t go, will you?”
You couldn’t answer him even if you wanted to.
#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan#dark sebastian stan#bucky barnes x reader#dark bucky barnes#winter soldier
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If I Stay Part Two (Final) // Luke Patterson
Summary: Life as you knew it shattered and now you’re left picking up the pieces with memories of a boy with hazel eyes in your dreams. A handsome guitarist who easily becomes your unseen number one supporter. If only you could see him again.
Warning: Swearing, mention of injuries, mention of car accident and talk of death.
Words: 2.5k (excluding the song lyrics of “I Won’t Let Go” by Rascal Flatts)
A/N: Second and last part to If I Stay! I really enjoyed this story because I adored Charlie St. Cloud and I really enjoyed If I Stay. The second part to Lost Time will be up soon when I feel confident in the storyline of it.
If I Stay Part One
Masterlist
In a split second for the first time, you felt yourself, poof, away to a sterile white room staring down at the person in the bed. Covered in cuts and bruises of all colours, was you. A broken version of you that made you sick to your stomach. You desperately yearned to go back to being unaware.
“I’m…a ghost?” You breathed looking at your blemish-free hands, a juxtaposition to the arm in a cast. Then in a nauseating thought, the grief faded for fear on your family. Had they survived? You ran out of the room straight to a nurse, “Where are my parents! Where’s my cousin Lou?”
Of course, the nurse was unaware of an upset, emotional teenage girl, a victim of a car crash and in a battle for her life. Realizing no one would answer you spent hours running around the hospital searching for your parents or Lou.
“Lou!” You shouted through the halls unfazed as you ran literally through gurneys and medical equipment even the odd doctor.
At the very last room, you found Lou sitting up in a bed staring silently at the white wall with an official man seated by the side of her bed. He held a clipboard in his hand.
“Lou, how are you feeling?” The man spoke, his white coat embroidered with his profession and labelling him a psychiatrist.
“Fine.”
“You’ve suffered a trau-“
“I’m aware. I was there. I saw a paramedic violently hitting my cousin’s chest, I saw so much blood. I didn’t know there could be that much blood!” Lou snapped glaring the man down, “I saw the brains of the idiot that caused the accident! You don’t know shit! Oh, your little degree magically has you able to understand what I’m going through?!”
“Lou-“
“You wanted me to talk! So, let me talk!” Lou screamed at the man startling you with the anger, “My cousin! My best friend, my SISTER is up in a bed in a coma! A coma because I wanted to go to a stupid resort to ski! It’s my fault! And no one will tell me anything about my aunt and uncle!”
You stumbled back at the pain Lou displayed, it broke your heart, and you couldn’t listen to it anymore.
“Lou, let’s talk about survivor’s gu-“
You fell through the closed door before you could hear anything more from the psychiatrist. You ambled around the floor aimlessly feeling the worst you ever had and to think for two weeks you hadn’t been aware of anything.
“Did you hear?” A nurse spoke from just outside your hospital room. You jogged over reading her name tag of Melissa.
“Heard what?”
“The father of the mountain accident he flatlined in surgery. Doctors got him back, but they’re concerned about brain damage.” Nurse Melissa told her fellow nurse with concern pinching her expression.
“That’s the father of the Y/L/N patient, right?” Nurse Lucy spoke glancing at your hospital door, “I hope they’ll be alright.”
“That poor girl has quite the decision to make. To live or to die. It’s all on her now.” Nurse Melissa replied, “Her mother died-“
“Little unprofessional to gossip about patients in earshot of everyone. Did you know that coma patients can often hear things while unconscious? Or my favourite tip…did you learn about HIPAA?” The doctor on duty asked, staring the two nurses down with a glared. Each nurse shifted on their feet, “Stop gossiping and do your job. I’m sure you can change bedpans or give sponge baths.”
The nurses scattered, leaving you standing in shock at the information given to you. Your mother was dead, your father could be brain dead, and Lou wasn’t coping well. Leaving you in a state of wondering what to do. Should you stay in a world without your parents or let go to join them in heaven. The thought had you collapsing into screams on the floor as everyone went about their work; walking through the hysterical teenager.
A warm hand slid into your own with a comforting squeeze, but all you wanted was to feel your father wrap you in a bear hug. To listen to your mother’s laugh, move in the air with that beautiful musical sound. You want Lou to be okay.
Luke was quiet as he sat the floor, squeezing your hand every once in a while. You slumped into his arms, staring unfeeling at the door that separated your ghostly form from your physical one. Luke poofed you to the Molina garage right on the couch where he held you tight for god knows how long.
“She’s dead.” Your voice cracked tears rolling down your cheeks once more, “My mom is dead.”
“Sh.” Luke cooed pressing his lips against your temple as you curled further into his body. His heart broke for you as the gravity of the situation became crystal clear.
“Hi.” Luke’s eyes met the concerned ones of Julie Molina, a girl that would undoubtedly know how you felt. The thing that connected you being the loss of a mother figure, “I’m Julie.”
Your blank expression lifted to see a girl you had often seen in the halls of Los Feliz High School and vaguely remembered her. She had been performing during the Spirit Rally months ago.
“I’m a friend of Luke, Reggie and Alex. I’m sorry you’re going through this, but you are more than welcome to stay here. You can be in my room or here if you’re more comfortable.” Julie offered knowing exactly how you felt when a year ago, she had been grieving the loss of her mom.
“Thank you.” You replied hoarsely. Exhaustion from sobbing closed your eyes, something that was different to Luke as a ghost was your ability to sleep.
Alex theorized that you could sleep because your body was still alive, whereas the boys had no physical body. They were just ghosts. He and Reggie were in the studio sadly watching as you slipped in a deep unsettled sleep. Luke’s broken eyes met his best friends before he had Alex come over.
“Please stay with her.” Luke whispered, leaving the tall blonde to switch places. Luke disappeared without another word.
“Where’s-“Julie began, but Reggie interrupted her with a sad smile.
“Remember when we took you to Luke’s house? He’ll do the same but with her.” Reggie supplied coming to sit on the floor in front of the couch; his hand grabbing yours in support.
In a medium-sized house with a backyard kept tidy by the neighbours, Luke found his way to your room. His grabbed a few items of clothing and sneakers into a discarded bag before he dropped the bag off in Julie’s bedroom. His next stop was your hospital room. Luke settled himself in the chair beside you watching your chest go up and down from the breathing tube.
“Hi. I don’t know you in this form, but I know your spirit. I’m not good with my words, but I’m going to try. Two weeks ago I met you in a record store, and I fell in love faster than I can tune my guitar and believe me I have the record in the band. I never believed in love at first sight, but I also didn’t believe in ghosts, but here we are!” Luke chortled leaning to place his hand on yours, but it slipped through.
His smile saddened, “As much as I love holding you and kissing your head… I’d much prefer feeling that aching and yearning feel in my gut. If I felt that then it meant you would be alive and well. I’d rather be sad that I can’t feel you than have you die so young.”
Luke saw your eyelids flicker and he hoped it was because you could hear him.
“You have so much to live for. It’s gonna be hard. I can’t deny that, but I need you to stay. Stay alive and fight for me. For Lou.” Luke choked, squeezing his eyes shut grateful when a hand rested on his shoulder. He knew it was Alex.
“Whatever you’re saying. Continue.” Alex whispered, “It’s working, her body is slowly becoming transparent.”
Alex’s words were further proven as Nurse Melissa jogged in surprised as she took vitals, “Well I’ll be damned. You decided to fight.”
Alex and Luke shared a relieved expression as you got even more strong. Together they returned to the garage. Luke was able to press one kiss to your forehead before you flickered once, twice, thrice before you dissipated.
In that hospital room, a beautiful thing occurred. Your eyes opened. Luke swore the birds sang better at the moment.
Recovery was hard. Relearning the little things, you took for granted was frustrating. Lou would hover as if you would disappear and you thought you were going insane. If you were waking up screaming by nightmares of the crash than it was waking confused on dreams that felt like memories.
The small victories helped like when you walked the entire hospital or when you were able to use the toilet and not the bedpan. The best win was being discharged to Lou’s parents and only needing outpatient physical therapy. Six months later, your father was awake and getting better; the loss of your mother still burnt hot and red.
It was on the sixth month anniversary when you walked down an oddly familiar street. Merritt happily trotting on his afternoon walk; Merritt had been an immense help. In your first month of recovery post coma, you met Merritt who would become your service dog.
A sense of déjà vu nudged you as you took in a vintage styled record store you swore you knew before. Continuing on you stop again at a toy story with a dollhouse.
“My cousin had one…for her unborn niece.” The sentence floated in your mind, but you couldn’t put a conversation.
“Caspar?” A male voice recalled in a distant memory of a dream a few days ago. You couldn’t think of anyone who had that voice, and absolutely no way had you ever seen that dollhouse before.
“Just coincidence.” You mumbled scratching Merritt’s head as his wet nose nudged your head before you could worry more. You watched people roaming thankful that you could do that, that you survived.
It was the building on the very end that confused you the most. Your eyes scanned the name proudly announcing itself as a tattoo parlour. A gasp left your lips as a vivid memory popped into your head with a boy that matched that voice you had thought of earlier.
“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.
“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore.You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his faceat the blatant heated gaze.
“No.It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”
“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.
“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”
You were so thankful for Merritt as he nestled up into a dog version of a hug as you felt the crippling anxiety. He was always there and knew about to help, support dogs don’t get enough credit.
When your eyes opened, it is like a dam broke and suddenly you remembered walking this street with three guys. The conversations and even the garage where one had held you in an incredibly vulnerable moment. Three ghosts that helped you when you needed it but didn’t know.
“Luke.” You breathed seeing a form shimmer in the sun as it flickered into a hazy form. Similar to how you did in the garage before going back to your body, he flashed three times. He solidified on the fourth with a great big grin.
“You can see me.” Luke cried, walking closer as he felt on top of the world when your eyes focused on him. He finally felt that yearning to meet your gaze fade away, “I missed you.”
You followed him to the Molina garage.
“I thought we’d never be able to talk again.” Luke sighed, reaching over, and he physically grabbed your hand, “I don’t know if I can touch you because of your former state or because of Julie.”
“Hm?” You questioned sitting cross legged on the bed.
“When I wasn’t watching over you, I was with Julie and the guys.” Luke went into detail about Caleb and the jolts, “We didn’t cross over because it’s not our unfinished business, but the stamps were destroyed when Julie hugged us. We’re sure that just like our instruments are connected to our souls that Julie did as well.”
Your hand brushed Luke’s cheek taking in the silky feeling of his skin, “I thought I was going crazy. I had these dreams of things I didn’t do in reality. My mind just wasn’t ready to remember the beauty of our connection.”
“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” Luke chuckled, thinking on how lucky he was to even know you, “You’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you.” You whispered gratefully to intertwine your fingers with Luke’s hand as well. It was like they were made for each regardless of the circumstances that brought you together, “I’m not ready for anything more than friendship, but I do strong feelings for you.”
“Being dead has an advantage. I can wait for eternity, and for you, I would. Just so you know, I have strong feelings for you as well.” Luke beamed scanning your face, taking in the blemishes from the crash. In the time you hadn’t been aware of him following coming out of the coma, he had become acquainted with your injuries.
When those little victories of weight-bearing, walking one step then two and finally that entire hallway Luke had been there unseen cheering you on. When you ‘graduated’ from the inpatient therapy Alex, Reggie and Luke had been there in silent support.
“Do what you need to do, and I’ll be right here for you.” Luke smiled gently, removing his guitar from the case, “Can I play something?”
You nodded in response as started strumming to a new song he had created in the last handful of months.
“It’s like a storm
That cuts a path
It’s breaks your will
It feels like that
You think you’re lost
But your not lost on your own
You’re not alone
I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do
If you can’t cope
I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I won’t let go
It hurts my heart
To see you cry
I know it’s dark
This part of life
Oh it finds us all (finds us all)
And we’re too small
To stop the rain
Oh but when it rains
The song touched you so intimately as he sang the last few lines softly keeping eye contact with you.
“…Oh I’m gonna hold you
And I won’t let go
Won’t let you go
No I won’t”
You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek that flushed at the feel of your lips against his skin. His heart fluttered and knew that you were his soulmate and he truly hoped Julie could find someone that could love her like she deserves. Luke’s heart belonged to yours and yours alone and vice versa for you as well.
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#luke patterson imagines#julie and the phantoms imagines#jatp luke#luke patterson x reader#julie and the phantoms#angst#caitsy and ash productions#agentsofsupernaturalmarvel
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Save it for the Doctor. Spencer Reid x Reader.
(A/N: this is based off a writing prompt. "You're... beautiful." "And you're concussed") Word count; 2,475 Part 2 (edit: my pleas for requests for stories are not reaching people so I will beg here. If you want a oneshot I’ll write it. Prompt or no prompt.)
I had heard a lot about the recent murders. I even had seen a few almost survivors on my mom's operation table, yet somehow I was wrapped up in the middle of it. Smack in the middle. No normal citizen even knew the FBI was investigating the murders and yet I was being interrogated. The man who sat in front of me was just mean, he wore a serious look and his eyes never moved from the narrow eyed glare he gave anyone who walked by and especially gave me. I was happy to cooperate, but the minute I was under fire I was fed up and wanted a lawyer. I was no killer, I had no upper body strength to move a dead body and believe me, I would know how much a dead body weighs thanks to my mom training me. I was a tired college student trying to get my damn degree so I could move on with my fucking life. And I was not in the mood to be interrogated when I could be working on my thesis. The mean man, Agent Hotchner I believe was just staring. I guess waiting for me to break or some shit like that? I don't know. I wasn't talking first. I didn't care anymore and this resulted in a match of silently staring waiting for the other one to speak. This went on for what felt like an hour but was probably closer to at least three minutes, I just sighed, "I cave." I sighed muttering curses as I shifted in my seat. "Go on, ask your questions I have a thesis to write and I would like to go home to continue it," I reluctantly urged on. He leaned forward in triumph I think as he demanded answers from me. "Where were you the night of Synthia Robbin's disappearance (Y/N)?" he began dwelling on the poor girls name. It made me frown, she was a 13 year old girl, a child, and she was gone. Kidnapped and found dead. It made me sick to think of what could happen to her. "So that's what this is about?" I hissed disgusted with the accusation "I was at the library with Emmalin." the mention of my sister's name made him further darken. "Your sister, correct?" he inquired. I rolled my eyes, "Yuduh" I sounded sitting back. "All your time is accounted for?" he continued leaving me puzzled for a moment. "There were maybe ten minutes in between where she left to find a book." I murmured unsure if the truth was the right thing to say as he stood and pulled out a file and threw it on the table making me flinch. "What about the night of Chris Bennidict?" he asked "A s-sports game" I stuttered "A baseball game I think. Rockies vs Rangers." I said shaking a little as he threw down that files some of the pictures falling out of the boy, shot twice. "Eunice Quiet, Quiara Basson, Basen Unice, Lynch Gryse, and Philip Jence!" he got louder with every file he threw at me. "You were near by every single scene and you fit most of our profile" he concluded the pictures that fell out made me physically sick. Children, those poor babies. I sobbed and turned away gagging, he wasn't convinced it was real but I knew it was and up came the vomit that was caught in my throat.
I had no doubt I fit their profile but I worked part time at a daycare. Children were my life line, and it mad me sick to see them hurt. He answered a call and left the room leaving me there to cry over the pictures. A brunette woman walked in and sighed taking me out of the handcuffs attaching me to the bolted down table. "Come on sweetheart. We'll get someone to clean up that." she sighed very tired, I wanted to know why. They brought me out to the main area of the station and sat me down. They slowly cuffed me to the desk and I cried softly. I looked across the station to see Emmalin "Emmy!" I called but was ignored causing me to frown. So I shut up and listen to whatever raving was in my defense, "My baby sib? A murderer?" she asked "well... it isn't that hard to believe," she said making my jaw drop. "They've always been a little too obsessed with the idea of death." A lie, I had an emo phase and so did she, "Introverted" well partially true. "and well she creeps out her friends," she finished causing me to stand suddenly, "Liar!" I shouted "You fucking liar!" I cried ignoring the pain and stress on my wrist the hand cuff was causing. I was now a 45 degree angle due to the cuffs keeping me in place. She seemed genuinely shocked i was there. "Why are you trying to pin this on me. Your own sister!b You were with me everywhere we went and those bodies were found. Why aren't you being questioned too? Did you lie? Did you say I was the only one there?" I screamed as I was sat down. She hissed at me and most of the agents took notice. Agent Prentiss, the nice brunette sighed and walked to my now horrible sister and asked her to follow her into a different interrogation room. It felt like hours that I was sat there, and a curly haired man was sat in front of me just reading, or what I thought was faking, really bad faking. "Why are you even sitting here if you're just going to pretend to read?" I asked the "doctor". My mother was a doctor and I didn't believe this boy was any kind of doctor. I had gotten to know his name as Doctor Reid and I wasn't allowed to call him an agent so I had no other choice. He just looked at me thrown for a moment before shaking his head "I'm not pretending" He stated as he shifted "No one can read that fuckin fast ya damn liar" I muttered not necessarily hostile just a little vexed. "I can. Did you know that our unconscious minds can process sixteen bits of information per second? Our conscious minds, however, can process sixteen million?" I sat back unimpressed "You are... absolutely insane" I laughed "Insane, perhaps but I'm not being accused of murder." he stated, and my smile that i worked so hard to get disappeared "You think I did it too." I muttered, it was meant to come as a question but instead it came as a statement. He shook his head "Not fully, while you do supposedly fit the profile our profile, our unsub wouldn't inject themselves into the investigation. The one part that doesn't fit" he said sitting back and crossing his legs turning to the board filled with evidence, and all those pictures that made me sick sat right next to the happy photos of the children in their school uniforms smiling big. I tried to focus on those "Well maybe your profile is wrong, cause this is sick." I hissed "(Y/N), you're here most likely because you were in the wrong places at the wrong times. Kids being picked up and murdered minutes apart from each other, while you were out with your sister at those locations? It's not very probable."
I just sighed knowing he was probably right "There aren't many coincidences when it comes to murder" he stated "Out of uh... curiosity what is an unsub? No normal person knows that is." I muttered as I tried to avoid the board, the thought of being in those places, not helping those kids, not even having a clue what was happening made me sick. "Unknown Subject" Dr. Reid said mumbling "Why aren't you uh... looking at the board. I thought you'd be proud of your work." He said as if to egg me on. I rolled my eyes "Those pictures make me sick." I muttered "I work at a daycare, it's my job to protect kids not watch them get hurt. I don't wanna see dead fucking children!" I shouted realizing I probably sounded fucking crazy and definitely like a kill. I hung my head in shame. "I know... I know it isn't fair to blame myself for what happened to those kids, but being in the places of the crime, the same night it happened, it makes me feel like I could have and should have done something. Something other than just sit there and wonder." I whispered "Yeah I feel guilty now but, not of what you think" I whispered looking to the board once more focusing on the pictures of the children when they were alive. "Sweet innocent babies... Never done anything to anyone. Probably were crying for their mom." I whimpered at the thought "They didn't deserve any of what happened" I looked away once more thinking about the mothers. "Moms.... Their moms" he stood up as if he had a damn epiphany nearly knocking me backwards in the chair. "Morgan, it's not an attack on the children it's an attack on their mothers." He said starting to put of pictures of older women. "think about it. They all went to the same cafe every day. It wasn't the day care, so it can't be (Y/N). They wouldn't see much of the parents" he enthused writing things down that I could not decipher because his hand writing was absolute shit. "But wouldn't that just give them more reason? They think these women are bad mom's for working instead of taking care of the child, and wants to teach them a lesson?" making him shake his head "That's stupid, if they wanted to make them suffer they'd just kill the women themselves, it'd be much more efficient and wouldn't lead to them doing the one thing they would dread doing!" he said circling one name on the board. Emmalin. "That's also sexist. Women work, children can't go with. Why would I have a fucking problem with that" I shouted across the room. "Who fits the profile while also holding these sexist values." Reid stated more than asked pointing to Emma's name again. "Oh dear god." he sighed "But my sister isn't a murderer!" I cried. "She's connected to the murders... and she's made it clear she doesn't think women should work." Morgan stated and went to the interrogation room. "You are a life saver (Y/N)" Reid said kissing my cheek out of pure joy, and I slapped him as a natural instinct and turned red "Shit! I'm sorry! I'm not used to boys doing that if they aren't being creepy! But at the same time that was really fucking creepy" I yelped as he held his face and laughed "No it's fine. Got too excited to fix what felt like a huge mistake." he said, and when I say I turned red I mean red. This was the first time I'd seen him as a human. Not a super genius, not as an agent, not an asshole. Just a normal guy with pretty eyes, a good jaw line, soft hair, and the sweetest smile I had ever seen. The blush was apparently very clear on my (skin color) skin because he hummed and smiled "Did you know blushing is speculated to be caused by a sudden rush of adrenaline making our blood pump faster." I giggled a little "Is that why you're so flushed?" I asked as he blinked not understanding just how damn pink he was after that rant. "Guess so." he shrugged. the door opened and out came Emmalin and she grabbed a ceramic vase off a desk and slammed it down onto Reid's head and ran away quickly. He fell to the floor because it was a heavy fucking vase, and I freaked out as he hit his head on the desk on the way down.
"Shit!" I yelled as half of them chased my very obviously guilty sister and I sat in shock as two of his friends rushed over to help him. Morgan uncuffed me and I blinked "Spencer?" Agent Jareau asked worried and I sat down next to him sitting him up and grabbing a water bottle slashing it on his face "Do not fall asleep." I said firmly "You could very well have a concussion." I said as an ambulance arrived quickly, he was cearly not feeling good because of the way that he was acting. I was worried about how sick he looked. He threw up half way to the hospital so I was told. I went with because I didn't feel safe with my sister on the run and an Agent in the hospital. Well I guess he wasn't an agent he was a doctor. The doctor, not Spencer, came out and i stood with the other two very worried. "He'll be fine. He has a mild concussion." as i thought "but he's awake, and on some pain medication. I take it you all know the situation and his limitations in the field?" he asked and Morgon and Jareau nodded "You can go back to see him now" he said and stepped aside "come on" Jareau said quietly to me "oh. Agent, I don't think he'd want to see me." I said quietly. "I'm sure he would like to know you came. You won't make a very good profiler if you can't even tell that Reid enjoys your company. And call me JJ, it makes it easier," she said giggling and pulled me right back with her and Morgan. "Hey man" Morgan started "What happened?" he muttered groaning in pain. "You got hit with a vase, took a pretty sweet fall, and got a concussion" JJ hummed arms crossed as she leaned on the wall. "Shit." he muttered making me giggle. "Oh hey!" he said when he saw me. "I want water, and jello" he muttered making small lip smacking sounds. "Morgan and I will get it" JJ laughed leaving me in a very awkward situation. "So umm.." I began before being cut off. "You know.. You're beautiful" he said staring at me causing me to snort "And you're concussed." I laughed shaking my head "Well, a concussion based on the severity doesn't necessarily affect your judgement of a person especially if it's a first time thing. I thought you were beautiful long before I was concussed but you were a suspect. Suspects being beautiful, hard to comprehend sometimes." I laughed "You're a dumbass" I snorted "But I-" he blinked and i walked over pecking his lips. "How about a date sometime? I'll give you my number" I said quietly. "Yeah... okay..." he whispered. "A date."
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds oneshot#part two?
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Thanks // Jay Halstead x Reader // Pt 4
Description: Jay reaches out when he needs it
Warnings: Emotional Whump
Pairing: Jay x Reader (Eventual), Reader x Mouse!Platonic, Jay x Mouse!Platonic
Words: 1620
A/N: No worries, our favorite best friend will be back in the next part. I’m on a roll, the muse assisting to keep the creative juices flowing!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
You checked in with the ED, knowing Jay got discharged later that day despite his doctors wanting him to at least stay the night for observation. He was stubborn, you were learning. Though, you’d be surprised if he wasn’t. You felt bad though, knowing he was going to be on desk duty for a while. It seemed as if he’d been through it before, knowing the routine pretty well.
It took a couple days for your phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on the screen. You’d just gotten home from work, tossing your bag on the couch. Honestly, you’d just been looking forward to a bath, some TV, and a glass of wine before bed.
“Y/N,” you told whoever was on the phone as you answered it.
“Hey, hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Jay answered, a smile quickly forming on your face.
“No, I just got home. What’s up?” You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and the bottle of wine out of the refrigerator.
“I don’t want you to have to move your schedule around on my part to visit Mouse, so I’ll just tag along whenever you go.” There was something more to it, though. You could tell by the uneasiness in his voice, stopping yourself from opening the wine just yet.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I usually go on Mondays and Thursdays. You okay, Jay?” you finally asked.
“Honestly.” You heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ve been better. Just a little stir-crazy you know? On medical leave for a little bit, and I really don’t want to take a taxi anywhere.” He chuckled nervously. “And Hailey’s at work, which makes sense. And so is everybody else. And Will is still pissed off that I got shot. I know he just worries but…”
“You’re rambling, Jay. Do you want me to come over? We could order a pizza, watch a movie? Just until somebody gets off work,” you offered, knowing it was going to be a 50/50 shot that he’d take you up on the offer.
“You sure? I’m not always the greatest company.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll pick up a pizza on the way. Just text me your address,” you assured him, putting the wine back in the refrigerator, glass in the cabinet. There went your plans for the night, but spending it with Jay seemed like a better option.
You were at Jay’s apartment less than an hour later, pizza box in one hand, pack of beer in the other. You weren’t sure if he was on pain meds or not, but figured it wouldn’t be a long shot that he was more of a beer guy than a wine guy. Making quick work of the stairs, you knocked on the door.
“It’s open!” you heard him call out, letting yourself in. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” you assured again, setting the pizza down on the coffee table in front of him. His lap was covered with a blanket, a pair of crutches right next to the couch. It was a well kept place, not overly fancy, but not a shit-hole either. Being a detective must have meant he made some pretty decent money. “You want one?” you then asked, holding up the six pack.
“Maybe later. The kitchen is right over there, if you could put it in the fridge. You’re more than welcome to have one though.” You followed the direction of his pointed finger, placing the pack in the fridge before going back into the living room. Quickly, you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your jacket before joining him on the couch.
He’d turned on a documentary, eyes fixed on the screen except when he reached out to grab a slice of pizza. You knew better than to push it, knowing there was something more just under the surface. There had to be a reason he’d called you and not somebody else. It reminded you of sitting with Mouse, though you knew Jay was more than capable of expressing whatever was on his mind.
The documentary came to an end, Jay flipping through channels before settling on the hockey game. You’d propped your feet up on the table, leaning back onto the couch.
“You gonna be okay?” you asked him softly, Jay looking at you finally.
“Eventually,” he agreed with a nod. “I just...I don’t like being cooped up, you know? Gives me too much time to think.”
“I get it. But I’m here to listen if you want to talk. Not as a doctor, but as your friend,” you reminded him, Jay nodding again.
“I’m going to get one of those beers. You want one?” he asked, uncovering himself and grabbing his crutches. You tried not to look, didn’t want to make it seem like all you were going to focus on was his leg -- or lack thereof. But you noticed the white bandaging on the remaining section, shorts covering most of it.
“Yeah. I’ll take one,” you agreed before he walked over to the fridge. He had it all down pat, how to get around and grab what he needed to. That’s what thirteen years of being an amputee would do to a person. He handed off the bottle before sitting back down and covering back up.
He didn’t drink the beer though. He’d popped the top off, held onto it for a few minutes before discarding it on the table.
“It’s the same every time,” he finally said, your brow furrowing as you tried to understand. The two of you looked at each other as he continued to talk. “The first time I got shot on the job was a through and through on my right shoulder. That’s what got me into the unit I’m in now. It’s a running joke. You get shot, you get to choose your unit. The second time was after my dad died. Grazed my side, but no lasting damage. The third time I almost died. Right shoulder again, hit an artery though. The doctor said I should have died. That it was a miracle. And it’s the same every time. The ‘pop’ of the gun, the searing pain.”
“I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like,” you reminded him.
“I know. It was different, though, in Afghanistan. Here, I know I could get shot. Over there, it was just a question of when. A few grazes, nothing major. I mean, there was a firefight every day. But here, it’s the same every time.” He was repeating himself, that was the first thing you noticed before the shift in body language, hands gripping the blanket a little tighter, the stiffness in his shoulders and jaw.
“Jay.” You put on the psychiatrist voice, the soft and soothing voice. You didn’t move to touch him, staying firmly where you were. “You’re not there.”
“I know. I know. I just- God, what’s wrong with me?” he confirmed, shaking his head as if it was an etch-a-sketch trying to get rid of the picture.
“Nothing’s wrong with you. Like I said the other day, trauma can bring things up that we try to push away. It’s completely normal, a natural response. But the only way to work through it is to talk about it. Not to push it away.”
“Now you’re sounding like my last therapist,” he joked with a small laugh, despite the tears brimming in his eyes, running a shaking hand over his face.
“It is what I do for a living. But you do need to talk about it, Jay. To anybody, doesn’t have to be me. Doesn’t have to be a professional. A friend, a coworker, just someone.” This time, you reached out, letting your hand rest on his arm, rubbing circles on the flesh with your thumb.
“Mouse and I didn’t get to come home together. He was still in a coma, clinging to life in Germany. I got to come back though, knowing most of our team was dead or dying. And I walked away like this. It took a while. Will was in New York partying. My dad never liked that I joined the military. And my mom...she was really sick. So, I suffered alone for a long time. I learned to compartmentalize, to deal with the nightmares and flashbacks. Not in the healthiest way at first, a lot of drinking. A lot of drinking.” He nodded. “And when Mouse did get to come home, I threw myself into making sure he was okay. He was what brought me back time and time again.”
“You have a support system now, Jay. Your brother cares about you, that much is obvious, though he may not always understand. Your team is there. You were talking about your partner Hailey. I’m sure she’d listen and support you. There’s always Mouse, though he may not give the clearest advice at times.” You both laughed at that. “And you have me. You’re not in this alone anymore, Jay.”
“Thanks for coming over. It means a lot. Can we talk about something a little less morbid than about how fucked up my head is?”
The rest of the night was spent talking about his job, your job, how you grew up on military bases. It was the same type of conversations you would have with Mouse. It was normal, familiar. And that’s what he needed, letting him lead the conversation. As the night continued on, the sun long gone over the horizon and moon in the sky, there was one thing you became sure of. Whatever drew you to volunteer knew that you needed these two men in your life as much as they needed you.
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Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader)
Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?
Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations, the usual criminal minds-type content
A/N: wow I’ve been on this site for ages, nearly as long as Criminal Minds was on air, lol, but this is my first fic posted here. I plan to make this one into a few parts if people like it. If this has any relation to other fics it’s not intended. Literally just an idea that popped in my brain. I’ll also eventually add it to my wattpad .@ kittentastic
Word Count: 3,119
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11.
It was an average, lonely, autumn night. Halloween was nearing and you didn't have anywhere to be. Long estranged from the people you once called family, and friends, you were starting a new life in L.A.
Yeah, you were one of those small-town girls with big-city dreams. You wanted to be an actress, a dream your father had once encouraged. When he suddenly died, you had nothing left but a new step-mother who discouraged your dreams and was more than happy to disown you when you reached 18 years of age; a classic Cinderella story.
It had taken a while, getting yourself through university and saving up enough money to move out to L.A. Now you were 27 and living your dreams...partly.
You worked at a coffee shop in Hollywood; a great way to meet people that could potentially cast you in a big production, but that plan had yet to come to fruition. Every audition would have someone else in mind for the part.
Today, you had finished yet another round of auditions for everything from small commercial bits to tv shows. You poured yourself a glass of red wine after finishing your microwavable meal-for-one dinner. Wine would always be your go-to drink after your dissappointing days, it was great at helping you sleep. You clicked on the tv and sipped your drink from your criss-crossed sitting position and soon found a Criminal Minds marathon that was just starting. It almost seemed like fate as tomorrow you had an audition lined up for the very same show.
You smiled as the bright, happy, Penelope Garcia came into the shot, followed by the rest of the BAU. You absentmindedly bit your lip as Dr. Spencer Reid came into frame.
Like a large percentage of the show's viewership, you found the handsome genius slipping into one or two of your fantasies. You may have daydreamed about the Dr. being a real person and walking into your workplace to order coffee and whisk you off your feet. You may have also woken up from a few dreams involving the handcuffs he was currently restraining an unsub with.
You wondered if you would get the part. Would it be odd having to pretend this dream-man was real? You'd hope you could contain your blushing around Matthew at least.
You finished your drink and stretched out on the couch, already feeling your eyes growing heavy. You found your mind wandering as you grew more and more tired, hardly paying attention to the episode. The last thought you had before you drifted off was, "what if Spencer Reid was a real person?"
Bright lights of assorted colors and shapes danced behind your tired eyes. You felt a tugging sensation that seemed to pull you from your core. It felt warm and safe, like it wanted to protect you. A hum grew louder and louder in your ear canal, followed by a crackling wind. It was like an electric storm. The smell of coffee and a woodsy vanilla filled whatever place you were in. It was odd, you knew this, but you weren't scared. Something told you this was right. Your body began to rise higher and higher until a loud snap echoed around you, shattering your surroundings.
"Whoa, sleeping on the job now Y/N? Did someone tire you out last night?" A woman's voice broke through the fog as your mind caught up with you.
Wait, am I still dreaming? That voice...it sounds like...
"Pretty Boy, you wanna check her for a pulse?"
And that is definitely...
"I-I don't think that's necessary."
You slowly lifted your head and opened your eyes wide. Your blurred vision slowly grew used to the bright indoor lighting. Your eyes widened as you saw none other than JJ, Morgan, and Reid. Yes, the fictional characters were standing in front of you.
How was this even possible? You had to be dreaming, or maybe you were forgetting and you were at a very strange audition. Yes, that had to be it, logically.
"Good morning Sleeping Beauty. Rough night? I didn't think Reid's Doctor Who nights were that wild, I might have to tag along and chaperone you two next time." Morgan greeted with a teasing smirk.
"How late did you two go for last night?" JJ asked, leaning against the desk that you had been sleeping on, and sipping her coffee.
She directed the question to you, but you didn't remember this dialogue in the audition script. When you didn't answer, Spencer spoke up.
"She texted me when she got home safe at 9:43pm. I made sure she left early as the rain was starting up. Now, of course, she could have stayed up longer, but we continued to exchange texts until she texted me goodnight at 10:15pm."
"Goodnight texts? Remind me and JJ here why you two aren't dating again?" Morgan crossed his arms looking between you and Spencer.
You blinked, taking a chance to finally look around. There were no cameras in sight. Above you was a tiled ceiling with office lighting. No directors or normal-looking crew members were around.
"Matthew?" You asked, directing your question to a stuttering, red-faced Reid.
Everyone turned their attention back to you. Reid, or Matthew, raised his eyebrow at you. And turned to look if anyone was standing behind him that you could be talking to.
"Who is Matthew, Y/N?" He asks, cautiously.
Oh my god. I must be dreaming.
You stood up and slowly reached out to Reid, who was standing closest to you. You gently poked his cheek. He looked almost afraid at your actions.
"Spencer?" You lower your shaky hand. He felt real, he was standing in front of you. You could smell his morning coffee.
"Yeah?"
"Pinch me."
"What? Why?"
"So I know that I'm not dreaming." You could feel his eyes prodding you, profiling.
"Maybe we should get you to a doctor-"
You grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your upper arm.
"Pinch me. Hard."
Spencer winced as he did what you asked of him. He obviously did not want to hurt you. You felt your nerves fire off in pulses of pain where he pinched. You sharply inhaled and he immediately dropped his hand.
"Oh my god," you stammered, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod."
This is real.
Spencer Reid is real.
You slid back down in your chair and looked at an open mouthed JJ and Morgan, staring at you in shock.
"What kind of kinky shit are you two into?" Morgan narrowed his eyes at Reid.
"This is no time for teasing Derek. I think she's suffering from a concussion." JJ reached out, concerned, feeling your forehead for a fever.
"She doesn't have any visible signs of bruising. Y/N do you remember hitting your head on anything, or experiencing whiplash today?" Reid, growing serious turned your chair towards him, raking his fingers through your hair to check your scalp for any tender spots.
For a moment you had to stop yourself from sighing, it just felt nice, and it was Spencer.
"No I'm-I'm fine, my head feels fine." You answered.
"What's the last thing you remember doing?"
You bit your lip, should you answer him truthfully? How would you even explain something so illogical.
"I-I remember. I fell asleep on the couch watching tv." In a different reality.
"Do you think it's possible you rolled off of the couch in your sleep?"
You frowned to yourself.
"It's possible."
It's never happened before, but you suppose it would explain things. This was definitely a hallucination. Maybe it was one of those Spencer-centric dreams.
"Spence, I think you should take Y/N to the hospital. I'll cover for you with Hotch." JJ suggested.
Spencer nodded in agreement while Morgan looked worriedly at you. JJ got up from the desk to seek out Hotch in his office.
"Do you have your keys?" Spencer asked, still looking you over.
"Um-" you checked your pockets and sure enough found a ring of keys in your pants pocket. You dropped them into Spencer's outstretched hand.
"Can you walk?" Spencer's voice went softer.
You shivered as you did whenever you heard that tone on the show. He could make a living doing ASMR with that voice.
You stood with Spencer's unneeded, but much appreciated, help. He seemed to have no problem holding your hands to help you, something you considered to be out of character for the germaphobic Dr. Reid. Then again, the show did not go this long without it's occasional inconsistencies. Was your subconscious hallucination really thinking these things out?
You followed him to the elevator with ease, taking in your surroundings as you went. As the elevator doors closed, Spencer frowned at you once again.
"Your pupils have been dilated since you woke up." He spoke.
Yeah probably because the attractive genius I've been dreaming of for years is vividly realistic and talking to me.
"Is that a sign of head trauma?"
"Actually yes, you could be experiencing a sensitivity to light as a result of your head trauma. If that's the case, then you're in luck because it's been raining all day."
You followed Spencer out to your car, or at least you thought it was your car. You didn't exactly own one before dropping into this hallucination world. You were saving up for one, but didn't really need it as you lived close to your job and took public transit when you needed to go further distances. This car was nice, you supposed the dream BAU job payed well.
Spencer drove you to the hospital and waited in the waiting room as you received a full check up and MRI. You hoped he wasn't too bored waiting. As the doctor returned with your results you asked if Spencer could come in to hear the diagnosis. The doctor asked if he was family and you lied saying he was your fiancé. The doctor really didn't seem to care and Spencer was allowed in. He looked confident, prepared to discuss anything scientific that you may not understand yourself.
"Well Y/N, after reviewing your MRI scans and testing results, I can confidently assure you that you are perfectly healthy. We can order some blood tests for you if you wish, but from the concussion symptoms you thought you had, and from the results I have in front of me, I don't believe they are necessary." The doctor said with a smile, probably just happy to be delivering some good news.
"That can't be right." You shook your head and frowned.
"Y/N was clearly exhibiting fatigue, light sensitivity, memory loss, and confusion at work. If she's not concussed, what is wrong with her?" Spencer asked.
"I'd say your fiancé is simply experiencing the effects of exhaustion and a lack of sleep. My advice? Take her home and let her rest."
Spencer firmly shut his mouth as the doctor said "fiancé."
The doctor turned to you. "If you'd like, I can perscribe you a sleeping sedative."
You shook your head "no." You couldn't believe it; you'd slept at a reasonable hour, and you didn't feel fatigued.
Everything was starting to feel so real. The warmth of Spencer sitting so close to you felt real. The rain that fell on your skin felt real. The medicinal scent of the hospital made your feel sick. You could only think of one final way to try to wake up.
"Spencer can you stop somewhere for me?" You asked as he drove you home.
"Sure."
"Is there a lake near by?"
"Yeah...you don't remember? You've jogged on the trails near it with JJ and Morgan."
"Can you take me there? There's something I need to do."
You were beginning to grow used to the worried look on his face. The way his eyes softened reminded you of a puppy.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to you. If this was a dream concocted by your brain, wouldn't Spencer be a bit more romantic? In your dreams he could range from a hardcore, post-prison, genius, bad boy to a nerdy romantic, but he was always, obviously, interested in you right away. This Spencer seemed to be your friend, just your friend. By now he would've usually confessed his undying love and maybe taken you in the back seat of your car. Yeah, you weren't the most creative person. What kind of dream was this?
You felt a blush coming on as Spencer side-eyed you. Your brain would never torture you with a long-con, would it?
Spencer took you to the lake, walking beside you without a word, most likely thinking you were going crazy and in need of sleep. You walked to the edge of the trail and looked down at the lake. It was a ways down, the point you were standing was more like a cliff. You determined that the water must have been about a 6 second drop down for someone your size
"Y/N, why did you want me to take you out here?" Spencer asked as he eyed the waters below.
You stayed silent as you took a few steps back. You took a deep breath, and before you could second-guess yourself, you ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped.
"Y/N!" Was the last, panicked thing you heard before the body of water came rushing towards you.
Your body submerged in the icy cold water and sunk deep down from the speed at which you fell. All you could hear was the echoing pressure of the water against your eardrums. This was your last resort. You knew if anything could wake you up, it would be this, your biggest fear.
Your father had drowned, he worked on a fisherman's boat and a storm had overturned the ship far out in the ocean. All that had been recovered was assorted pieces of the ship's wreckage. You'd never even had the chance to learn how to swim as the fear had already settled in before your step-mother could arrange lessons.
If you could drown in this confusing dream-world, maybe you would wake up in time for your Criminal Minds audition.
Your lungs protested as you let yourself sink. You closed your eyes and let your muscles relax. Your head screamed at you, telling you that you absolutely should not be doing this. Fear prickled at your skin. Why did this feel like you were actually dying?
A heartbeat later, you heard the water's surface explode above you, but you didn't have the strength to look up. Your brain processed something wrapping around you and tugging you up, but you could not open your eyes to see what it was. You held on to your last bit of consciousness as you breeched the surface of the water and felt the chilly air assault your skin.
Arms pulled you somewhere. Your body was dragged up something solid, the backs of your legs scraped against rocks. It must have been land. Hands applied pressure, pushing like a heartbeat against your center, you could hardly feel it. A hand held your mouth open while another pinched your nose closed. Lips pushed, rushed, against your own as air was forced back into you. The hand left your mouth and returned to pumping.
"Come on. Come back to me Y/N. Please." Pleading followed by more air.
The strange entity repeated the process once more before you felt everything come up, forcing you back to reality.
You coughed and choked up water and bile; the rain washed it all away. Your lungs were aching and your skin was ice cold. The only warmth was what lingered from the person's lips. A hand pat and rubbed your back, helping you cough up everything. When it was all over your whole body was shivering. Your muscles gave out and a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you up.
"Y/N."
You weakly turned your head.
Spencer. He's still here. He's really here.
He was soaked, hair ringlets stuck to his face, and his eyes were rimmed red. He looked like an angel, hand carved by Michelangelo himself.
Your brain was trying to catch up with his words.
"Y/N, I need to get you back to the car before we both go into hypothermia. Can you walk?" He asked through chattering teeth.
Your throat was killing you, so you opted for just shaking your head "no" in response.
"I'll have to carry you then, okay?"
You nodded, doubtful he could, especially in his weakened state.
He stood, grabbing his bearings before scooping you up. You weakly held his neck and lay your head on his shoulder. Your pain was numbed, you knew, from the biting cold.
Spencer managed to carry you all the way back to the car, placing you gently in the backseat and turning the heat all the way up. He climbed in the backseat with you and began to remove his jacket and tie.
"We have to remove our clothes, they're soaking wet and we have to warm up. Do you need me to help you undress?" There was no hint of teasing or slyness in Spencer's voice. He was completely serious and you knew he was right.
"I-I can't. Everything is numb." You managed to croak out, wincing at the pain it brought your throat.
"Alright, um- I'll only remove your shirt and pants."
You nodded, weakly.
Spencer removed his own shirt before carefully lifting yours over your head. He made sure to keep his eyes on your face as much as possible and not linger his gaze anywhere else. Next he removed your shoes, socks, and peeled your pants down your legs. You managed to arch your back slightly to help him. Lastly, he removed his own pants and threw all the clothes in a pile on the floor of you car.
"I'm going to hold you now, if that's alright. We need each other's body heat." Spencer looked less confident now. You managed to nod a "yes."
If you weren't so close to death, you knew your brain would be shorting out at the thought of being held by a half-naked, and very real, Spencer Reid.
He helped you lay down across the seats and settled in next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hands along your shoulders and back in an effort to warm you and massage your tensed muscles.
A few minutes of this went by before you could finally move. You wrapped your arms around Spencer, holding him close as his body warmed your own, and you cried against his chest.
One thought repeated over and over again in your head.
This is real.
You worked for the BAU and Spencer Reid had just saved your life.
Next Chapter
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#fanfiction#drama#romance#cm
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5, 6, 7 & 8 for OTP asks with Hiccanna!!
HELL YEAH BRO
Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?
Anna, hopeless romantic and “true love” fanatic that she is, is incredibly down to meet her soulmate. One of her biggest fears is being inherently unlovable and that no one will ever love her for who she is (parents dying and sister shunning you has to leave some abandonment issues babyyyy), so she takes a lot of comfort in the idea of a soulmate--at least one person is basically certain to love her, right?
Hiccup, meanwhile, is apathetic at best and annoyed by the idea of a higher power dictating who his girlfriend is at worst. Unlike Anna, he doesn’t really fear no one will ever really love him for who he is--rather, he just accepts it as fact. Growing up with no friends and an emotionally-distant father, Hiccup came to believe that he was never going to feel the kind of deep, boundless love he’d seen between other people--and he made his peace with it. Being a more introverted scientist and inventor-type, Hiccup tends to spend a lot of time alone anyways and believes (maybe not fully accurately) that he prefers it that way. Besides, the logician in him thinks the whole “magic cosmic soulmate” thing is probably bullshit, and he just can’t figure out how something like soulmates could ever be backed or supported by modern science. Ultimately, Hiccup figures he’s going to date who he’s going to date (if he can even find any girls who are interested, that is), and he really couldn’t care less what the stars have to say about it.
When Hiccup and Anna do finally meet, and eventually start dating (knowing how shy and awkward they’d both be about confessing, it would take months to years after them meeting to actually get together, even in a goddamn soulmate AU), it isn’t revealed that they’re soulmates right away. Maybe it’s revealed by their hearts glowing a certain color when they first realize they’re in love with the other person? Idk.
When Anna finds out they’re soulmates, she’s absolutely stoked. Like the girl probably runs around their home for a solid 15 minutes planning a soulmate reveal party or something. Hiccup, meanwhile, is just kind of like “Oh! Neat!” and then immediately goes back to whatever he was doing XD
Anna is a bit hurt that Hiccup is so, ah...unconcerned about them being literally destined to be together. She’s mainly worried that it means that he doesn’t like...cherish their connection enough and whatnot. After he picks up on the fact that she’s kind of upset about his definitive lack of a strong reaction to the whole thing, he explains to her that he didn’t really care because he’d 100% date Anna whether or not she was his soulmate. Saying their souls were deeply connected was basically just putting a formal title on what he already knew.
And Anna has to take a minute, because honestly? Hiccup confidently saying he’d be with her in any reality, even one where he risks angering cosmic forces to do so, is actually much more romantic than them being supposedly “fated for each other” since the beginning.
Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if they’re both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love again… Until they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)
I think I’ll have Zephyr and Nuffink be the single parent kids because I Just Think They’re Neat! That, and I honestly can’t bear to make lovechildren for Anna with anyone but Hiccup XD (those of you who know me will know making Krist/anna lovechildren in any context is RIGHT OUT).
So in this AU things didn’t work out with Astrid and Hiccup is pretty heartbroken over it :( I imagine she ultimately left him because she wasn’t really feeling the spark anymore, and they have joint custody of the kids. Meanwhile, Hiccup and Anna were neighbors growing up, and were pretty close friends as kids until Anna moved away and they lost touch. She eventually comes back to their hometown as an adult, and she and Hiccup reconnect. They’re also both like “ah shit, my old buddy got HOT” XD
I actually think Anna and Zephyr would really hit it off, mainly because Anna sees a lot of what she loves the most about Hiccup in Zephyr. Zephyr has Hiccup’s anxiety, cynicism, inventive streak, overall social awkwardness--and because Anna knows Hiccup so well and knows how to best accommodate all of his quirks and oddities, it’s not hard for her to extrapolate how best to befriend a younger version of him XD Zephyr, meanwhile, has had trouble befriending kids her age due to her bluntness and general “nerdiness,” so she’s always happy to find someone who accepts her unconditionally and takes a genuine interest in her wacky inventions--even if it’s her dad’s new girlfriend, who by all accounts should be a weird person for her to get close to XD Zephyr also devours science books like they’re going out of style, and is very pleased that Anna is more than happy to listen to her ramble on and on about random science trivia. Zeph still loves her biological mom, for sure, but she starts thinking of Anna as a second mom. She brags to all the kids at school that she has two moms, which leaves them very confused and wondering if Astrid ended up marrying another woman after she divorced Hiccup (which, to be fair, wouldn’t be entirely out of character).
Nuffink, meanwhile, is a little more unsure about the whole situation, if mainly because I headcanon him as a bit of a mama’s boy. He doesn’t dislike Anna so much as he’s just...wary of her, and doesn’t know how to feel about his dad falling in love with someone who isn’t his mom. He also can’t help but feel out-of-place when he, Zephyr, Hiccup, and Anna go out on “family outings” because he kind of looks like he doesn’t belong. With her reddish-brown hair, her blue eyes, her aundance of freckles, and her fondness for wearing twin braids, Zephyr could definitely pass as Anna’s daughter (I’ve even seen Anna used as an older version of Zephyr in video edits, which is hilariously ironic). Although Nuffink has his dad’s eyes, he very much has his biological mom’s hair and doesn’t look like he’s related to Anna at all.
I think what helps them finally bond is that they both have a love of combat! Nuffink definitely does some kind of martial arts or fencing training if he can access it, and Anna is more than happy to teach him some swordplay and spar with him if he wants! Because Sword Anna is best Anna, fight me. Nuffink is also open-minded enough that hey, if his cool big sister likes someone that much, she can’t be that bad. Hiccup is just...continually super impressed with how much Anna knows about fighting--and it makes him fall all the more in love with her, because he loves that in a woman XD Once Nuffink warms up to Anna, he’s constantly trying to impress her ith how tough he is--mostly shown by him ramming his head into walls. Poor Anna worries about Nuffink a lot XD
I imagine there’s a little bit of tension between Anna and Astrid in this AU. Not really because Astrid resents Hiccup moving on--she’s actually pretty happy for Hiccup that he found someone better suited for him than her--but more because she worries Anna is trying to replace her as the kids’ “true mom” XD Anna, meanwhile, can’t help but resent Astrid a little for breaking Hiccup’s heart and doesn’t get why they kids can’t just have two moms! The more people who love them, the better, right???
I don’t imagine Anna and Hiccup having any biological kids in this AU, because I think two stepkids would be plenty for Anna! Of course, since Zephyr and Nuffink are Hiccup’s, she loves them with all her being and tries to be the best stepmom she can be. But I think having more than two kids would stress Anna’s ADHD ass the fuck out, and she doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who would feel a need to have biological kids with Hiccup if she already had Nuffink and Zephyr to parent. Our girl is perfectly happy adopting!
Doctor AU: Which one is the longsuffering doctor? Which one is the patient?
Hiccup is the long-suffering doctor, although not entirely by choice. Often he wonders if being a doctor is actually what he wanted, but his dad was like “WELL SON! YOU’RE SMART, SO YOU GOTTA BE A DOCTOR SO YOU MAKE BIG BUCKS!” (I’m headcanoning in this AU Stoick is a professional athlete of some kind, and has made BANK since he was young. He can’t really conceive of his son NOT pursuing a well-paid profession). Hiccup doesn’t really want to disappoint his rather intimidating dad, so he goes along with it.
It’s not that he dislikes it, when all is said and done. He does care about people and wants to help them, although he hides it underneath about 10 layers of snark. Still, it’s stressful and thankless work, and often he worries about whether he took the right path. Too late to pursue something else now, he supposes.
Then he meets Anna, rushed to the ICU with a collection of third-degree electrical burns. She tried to plug all of her Christmas light strings into the same power strip, and uh...it did not go well. Hiccup is there monitoring her vitals when she wakes up, and she just kind of wearily sighs and admits to him that living on her own wasn’t nearly as fun or exciting as she thought it would be. As it turned out, Anna had insisted she could be trusted with putting up her apartment’s holiday decorations, and she very much should not have been.
Anna ends up having to stay a couple weeks. She needs a small skin graft (yeah, she fucked herself up THAT bad), and then needs a bit of time for the surgery wounds to heal. Hiccup is assigned to do checkups on her regularly, and starts to look forward to it. Her perky disposition (despite being stuck in the hospital with burn wounds) is contagious, and she never fails to make him laugh after a long, draining shift. As stressful as his job is, Anna becomes his one respite.
He has to admit, it’s nice to have at least one thing to look forward to.
Hiccup is a little sad to see Anna go. Of course, bumbling, socially awkward foot-in-mouth fool that he is, he doesn’t have the courage to ask for her number so they can keep in touch. That would, uh...probably be unprofessional or something. Besides, it would probably crush his heart and soul if she was weirded out by his soft spot for her so like...maybe best not to even open himself up to the possibility.
Then, not two weeks later, Anna shows up at the hospital again--this time having broken three bones in a hiking accident. Apparently she got too excited about a particularly nice view, and toppled right off the top of a very steep bluff. He, once again, takes on her care, and is delighted (albeit guiltily) to have her back. He, once again, has something to make work not suck as much!
Oddly enough, this turns out to be the first of many hiking accidents. Anna comes in next month claiming to have nearly burned her arm off in a rogue campfire, and then again the next month claiming to have been mauled by a bear (although Hiccup is pretty sure those bleeding gashes were just left by a very big dog, and Anna is too embarrassed to admit it). Odder still, Hiccup distinctly remembers talking to Anna during her first hospital stay about how much he loved hiking and the outdoors, and now all of her new string of injuries just happen to be hiking-related. He can’t help but be baffled about how her insurance even covers all of this, but apparently having a family lineage distantly related to Norwegian royalty has its perks.
On roughly her 7th hospital stay, Hiccup finally gathers up the courage to ask Anna for her number, if only because he figures it would be nice for them to see each other without Anna having to nearly get herself killed first every time XD
Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?
OMIGOD SO
I HAD AN IDEA FOR THIS
What if Anna was sent to bodyguard Hiccup in an AU where Arendelle is a lot more militaristic???
Basically what I'm thinking is that this is in an alternate timeline, Hiccup didn't injure Toothless's tail when he shot him down. The beginning of HTTYD plays out the same, but Toothless can still fly and just yeets off after Hiccup frees him, supposedly never to be seen again. However, this still leads Hiccup to believe he may not be dragon-fighting material after all. The poor boy still yearns to find a way to prove his worth to Berk, though.
As Hiccup gets older, his strength doesn't really improve, and it becomes clear to Stoick that he's always going to be pretty scrawny. Because of this, he's hesitant to put Hiccup in dragon training for the sake of his son's own safety--and hey, Hiccup seems to have lost interest in dragon-fighting anyhow, so it's not like Hiccup will fight him on it. Nonetheless, the dragon raids are getting worse, and Stoick worries about Hiccup being able to protect himself at all. Knowing most of the older villagers are busy with dragon-fighting and other jobs, and honestly doubting any of the village's teenagers would protect Hiccup if push came to shove, Stoick sends out an appeal of sorts to neighboring villages and kingdoms requesting a bodyguard for his skinny disaster of a son.
Back in Arendelle, shut-in princess Anna is surprised yet intrigued when a messenger from the Viking village of Berk shows up at Elsa's coronation. In a timeline where Hans and Anna don’t have their chance encounter, Hans sets his wooing sights on the newly-crowned Queen Elsa (and fails), and no push ends up being strong enough to make Elsa lose control of her powers at the ceremony. Anna, however, still feels hurt by her sister’s seemingly reasonless rebuke earlier in the evening and finds herself aching to explore the world outside her castle and be close with someone--anyone--again.
When the Viking messenger requests a bodyguard for the Chief of Berk’s son, Anna is quick to volunteer. The messenger scoffs at first, but to his surprise, the soft-looking princess isn’t entirely unqualified. She filled many of her long, empty childhood hours training with the Arendelle guard, and her swordplay is admirable. To prove her worth, Anna faces off with one of the Berkian warriors in a duel--and holds her own shockingly well. While Queen Elsa is hesitant to let her sister run off to a faraway nation, Anna vehemently insists that Arendelle doesn’t need two monarchs, and this will be great for diplomatic relations in the long run. Of course, she also longs to explore and get away from the place she’s been trapped her entire life, but Elsa doesn’t need to know that part.
When Anna arrives in Arendelle, Hiccup has absolutely no idea what to make of his new bodyguard. On the one hand, a girl who’s good with a sword is hot, and he’s long since given up on Astrid anyways. On the other hand, Hiccup is definitely irked that his dad sees him as so weak and incapable that he’s the only Viking in the village who needs a full-on bodyguard, and he hates feeling like he’s being babied and coddled (not that this is Anna’s fault). Still, his bodyguard is essentially the only person who’s ever seemed to actually want to be friends with him in...well, his whole life, and honestly? He’ll take it.
Anna, meanwhile, still aching for love and connections of really any kind, is nigh-instantly smitten. His brains, his creativity, his constant snide jokes, his snark-coated good heart, his weird, messy hairdo--all of it has an 18-year-old Anna completely over the moon. Hiccup, feeling hopeless in the world of romance after being rejected by Astrid, is honestly just relieved to finally have a friend--to the point that it doesn’t even occur to him that Anna’s a girlfriend option.
Not long after she arrives in Berk, Anna is put into dragon training to prepare for raids. She does a bit of training of her own with Hiccup, teaching him some swordplay to try and boost his confidence. It’s not hard to tell that he has mixed feelings about having to have a protector, and Anna hopes that by teaching him some basic fighting skills he can at least feel a little better if he’s ever in a situation where she isn’t there to defend him.
As she gets deeper into her dragon training, Anna asks Hiccup why he never gave dragon training a go. Granted, him being as physically small as he is would be a disadvantage, but he could still learn to hold his own decently well using speed and stealth. It would help him be able to protect himself, if nothing else. Hiccup seems very reluctant to talk about the whole subject, but he says Anna needs to trust that he knows he can’t kill dragons. He tends to give the shortest answers possible to her questions, and nigh-instantly changes the subject. When Anna presses too much, he gets snippy.
As they get closer, Hiccup finally opens up to Anna about the time he shot down a Night Fury and couldn’t bring himself to make the final kill. He admits to cutting the creature free, and how the dragon nearly killed him--only to spare Hiccup just as Hiccup had spared him. “I saw more than just a ruthless killer when I looked into that dragon’s eye,” Hiccup tells her. “I saw myself. I think there’s so much more to them than anyone knows, but...you’re the only person I feel like would actually give me the benefit of the doubt on that.”
During the next raid, Anna pays closer attention to the dragons than before. She watches how they interact with the villagers, and notice that they never seem to go out of their way to go after people. They only fight Vikings when Vikings initiate, and the dragons’ main concern always seems to be taking sheep and fish. Left to their own devices, they don’t seem to want to hurt anyone.
Unfortunately, Anna standing off to the side and trying to watch what all the dragons are doing leaves her distracted--and vulnerable. She’s not prepared for a camouflaged changewing to melt out of the wall behind her, whipping around and backing her into a corner. Anna grabs for her sword but can hardly move, frozen in terror as the massive dragon stares her down.
She holds up an arm, bracing herself for a wall of fire, but none comes. There’s a swish of wings and a gust of wind blows her back. When she looks up, the dragon is gone.
It would’ve been beyond easy for the dragon to kill her. The creature clearly saw her--could have taken advantage in her moment of frozen stupor and burned her to a crisp. And yet...the dragon spared her. Just like the Night Fury had spared Hiccup.
Anna realizes Hiccup might be onto something.
Together, Hiccup and Anna decide they’re going to get to the bottom of what dragons are really like--and why they’re stealing the village’s food. While claiming to go out for “battle practice,” Hiccup and Anna track down dragons and study them in secret--observing them, writing about them, seeing how they behave and how they interact with one another. They’re surprised by what they see: left to their own devices, dragons are good-natured and compassionate, and they take care of their own. Strangely, they never seem to feed the stolen food to their young. Hiccup predicts they’re not actually keeping it for themselves, and taking it somewhere nigh unreachable for humans. For what actual purpose is anyone’s guess.
Anna starts using the info she gathers observing dragons with Hiccup in dragon-training. She finds ways to sooth them and calm them down in the ring by using things they seem to enjoy in the wild. Scented grass, bits of fish, soft touches, slow, gentle movements. The village marvels at her newfound skills, and can’t help but wonder where she developed such a knack for controlling dragons despite spending basically all her time around “Stoick’s little runt.” She couldn’t be training with him, of all people...could she? Astrid, for one, is definitely none too pleased about her spot at the top of the class being threatened.
Meanwhile, Anna and Hiccup can’t help but grow fond of the dragons they watch. They start becoming more bold, and leaving snacks of trout and mutton for the scaled creatures. Anna is delighted when the food ends up attracting none other than what she’s pretty sure is the same changewing who spared her, as well as a curious snaptrapper. She’s never gotten to see a snaptrapper up close before, and is completely undeterred by the triple-jawed four heads. Rather, she is far more preoccupied with coming up with the perfect name for each head.
“Omigod, he’s so PRETTY! And he smells like CHOCOLATE!”
“...you know they probably emit that scent to lure in prey so they can slice it in three, right?”
“CHOCOLATE, HICCUP!!!”
With each new meal, the local dragons grow more and more comfortable with Hiccup and Anna. After a while, the changewing and the snaptrapper even let Anna touch their noses. Anna falls in love with watching the changewing seem to melt around the forest as she camouflages, and rolling in the mud with the snaptrapper after a summer storm. Hiccup starts catching what seems to be glimpses of the Night Fury he freed, and it appears that the curious creature has come back to investigate him.
The Night Fury appears more and more, drawn in by Hiccup’s trout feast. Hiccup notices the dragon’s wing is injured, likely shot by someone from the village. Although he’s not completely helpless, he’s having trouble. Hiccup sets to work on his most daring project yet--making a “brace” of sorts that can mend the ripped wing.
When Hiccup and Anna attempt to distract the Night Fury long enough to climb up and put the wing brace on, something unexpected happens. The dragon shoots up to the sky, both unwitting passengers clinging onto his tail for dear life.
Once they get their bearings and clamber up to his back, the Night Fury (who Hiccup has nicknamed “Toothless” for his retractable teeth) takes them on a flight through the clouds. Unable to help herself, Anna laces her arms around Hiccup’s waist--if only so she can supposedly “hold on better.”
Hiccup, of course, still doesn’t get it.
The flight takes a sinister turn when Toothless takes them to the dragon nest, and Hiccup finally gets his answer about where all of the villages food has been going--to their queen. Unsure what to do or how to free their new friends from the Red Death, Hiccup and Anna promise each other one thing or sure--none of the rest of Berk can know about the dragon nest. If they attack it, it spells disaster for both dragons and Vikings--not to mention the question of how they got there is sure to dig up their secret dragon-related activities as of late.
With each dragon raid, Anna finds herself more and more reluctant to fight dragons--especially now that she knows what’s actually going on. She only does the bare minimum to protect the food and the village, never going out of her way to attack a dragon or landing a killing blow (although by this point, she’d definitely be skilled enough to). During one particularly intense raid, Anna is finding it harder and harder to fend dragons off without doing lethal damage. While driving out a particularly tenacious monstrous nightmare, Anna happens upon the same changewing she’s befriended in the forest, limping to safety.
It would be incredibly easy to finish the dragon off, but Anna refuses. The dragon knows she’s beat, and so Anna lets her leave without so much as a swing of the princess’s sword.
Unfortunately, Astrid sees.
After the raid, Astrid storms up to Anna and chews her out in front of the whole village, yelling about how weak she was to not go for a dragon kill when she had the chance. It turns out Astrid’s also been noticing Anna going intentionally easy on the dragons, and how much the Arendelle princess seems to hold back when fighting him. Astrid knows it’s not physical incompetence, or a lack of skill--she’s seen Anna subdue plenty of dragons in training.
No, it seems to be the princess’s heart that’s weak. Her kingdom must be nothing but a bunch of bleeding-hearted morons, and she’ll never be tough enough to really belong in Berk.
As he watches Astrid yell and the Berkians all turn to sneer at the scene, Hiccup feels a sudden rush of protectiveness for his friend. Tears are starting to form in the corners of her eyes, and something gives in him seeing her subjected to the very ostracization that left him completely alone for so many years.
He walks up beside Anna, and suddenly he’s shouting like he’s never quite had the courage to before.
“You’re wrong, Astrid! You’re all wrong!”
Before long, he’s spilling everything--how dragons are intelligent and caring creatures, how they’re only stealing food to feed a ruthless queen, how he’s sure humans have killed far more dragons than vice versa. The village stares, horrified. When Stoick storms forward, Hiccup and Anna know it’s nothing good.
Stoick is disgusted. The very bodyguard he had brought all the way out to Berk to give his son strength did nothing but fill Hiccup’s head with softness and dangerous lies. He banishes Anna, warning her never to set foot in Berk or speak to his son again.
Hiccup will not have it. He says if Anna’s leaving, he’s coming with her. He’s made his choice, and he’s standing by the only person who ever really treated him with unconditional love and kindness.
“Fine,” Stoick says simply. “We’ll be rid of two traitors, then.”
Cast out from Berk, Hiccup and Anna find themselves with a new mission: Find the nest before the rest of Berk does, and take out the Red Death once and for all.
With the help of Toothless, the Changewing (who Anna has nicknamed “Flicker”), and the Snaptrapper (whose heads Anna have very creatively named Leafy, Greeny, Spiky, and Badbreath. It’s beyond Hiccup how she tells all of them apart, but she’s very adamant about which is which.), they find the dragon hive again, and attempt the impossible--attacking the queen. It seems hopeless at first, but once more and more malcontented dragons see what they’re doing, they join in and rebel.
It’s a tough fight, but the two humans and the revolting dragons come out on top. Not before the Red Death has one last hurrah, though--letting out a final, massive blast of fire that knocks Hiccup askew and sends him tumbling down into the flames. Toothless, Flicker, Anna, and the Snaptrapper dive after, and are quickly engulfed in red and orange.
Meanwhile, the Berkians have sent out ships following Hiccup, Anna, and their dragons, guessing the nest is where they were headed. By the time they get there, the fight is over--and Stoick and Gobber just manage to catch a glimpse of Hiccup plummeting into the flames.
Anna screams Hiccup’s name until the smoke burns her throat so much she can’t anymore. She remembers swooping underneath him and just managing to grab hold of his limp body before everything goes dark.
When she comes to later, it’s still dark--but she feels something soft and warm in her arms, and feels scales pressed against her back. Her arm is searing with pain, but she barely notices it as her eyes adjust to the darkness. Hiccup is curled up against her--groaning, but alive.
Not sure she’ll ever get another chance, she puts a hand on his cheek and finally tells him the truth. “I love you.”
He opens his eyes and looks, gaze shocked until a slow realization washes over him. He smiles. “I love you, too.”
They both pass out, still wrapped up in each other.
When the flames clear, Stoick sees what looks like a pile of dragons, all pressed together with their wings folded in. Slowly, they lift their wings to reveal two humans--charred in places, but alive.
Wracked with guilt, Stoick realizes he was wrong. Hiccup’s new bodyguard helped his son become stronger and braver than the chief of Berk ever imagined.
It turns out taking down the queen saved the dragons and the humans, and thanks to Hiccup, Anna, and their dragon friends, Berk will never have to worry about dragon raids again.
It turns out Hiccup’s leg and Anna’s arm didn’t quite make it out of the fire. Luckily, Gobber has always been handy at prosthetics--and Hiccup manages to make a fairly dextrous and functional metal hand for Anna. Anna is utterly delighted with how cool it looks.
After the whole Red Death incident, it’s decided that Hiccup is probably competent enough that he doesn’t need his own bodyguard anymore. Nonetheless, Anna is welcome to stay in Berk as long as she likes. And with new dragon friends and an incredibly cute new boyfriend, she’s not going anywhere anytime soon!
***
This is in reference to this post! I’ve already done these questions for Moanida. Theoretically still willing to do any questions I haven’t yet for Hiccanna and Moanida, although these were exhausting to write out so I might not give as long of answers XD
#hiccanna#hiccup x anna#anna x hiccup#hiccup#anna#otp questions#hiccup haddock#princess anna#hiccupxanna#annaxhiccup#rotbtd#rotbtfd#httyd#frozen#crossover
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You Raised Her Too
Words: 1500
Warnings: Angry Sam, cussing
AN- Sam is a lawyer, this is an AU.
Summary- Sam doesn’t understand why YN isn’t performing well in school. Dean has to translate.
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Sam looked up from the legal papers he had been glancing over as he walked through the house. He saw YN standing and touching the bindings of the books in their library. Her notes and textbooks lay untouched on the table.
“Ahem.”
Startled, she turned around to face her father.
“You told me you would start your homework a half hour ago,” Sam put his papers down and crossed his arms.
“Sorry,” YN put her hands to her sides, wiping the dust from the dusty books onto her jeans.
“I don’t know why but you have been so distracted lately,” he responded. “Did something happen?”
“No…” she shrugged.
“Please get started on your work,” he winked at her.
“Sorry, daddy.” YN smiled. As she sat down, he exited.
As the days and school years went on, Sam only noticed her distracted behavior more and more. He was tired of trying to make her focus.
“You are in fifth grade. Get your stuff done,” he growled. “Stop dilly-dallying and get going. Why is it so hard to-”
“WOAH!” Dan walked into the house. “What’s with the third degree?”
“Nothing,” YN bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry, Dad.” YN apologized to Sam.
“You know, you keep saying that. Why is it so hard to sit down and start your work? Do I need to start taking your series books away?” Sam widened his stance and stood over her as she sat at the table. YN shook her head, eyes wide. “Open your damn book and start!” He stormed out of the room.
“What-” Dean looked to YN.
“He’s mad because I don’t study. At least that’s what he thinks.” YN teared up. “I don’t like when he’s mad at me,” she used her fingers to wipe away the emotion running down her face.
“So why does he get mad at you then? You never disappoint your dad.” Dean walked across the room, put his keys and wallet next to her books, and he guided her into a hug.
“I -I.” She stuttered. “I don’t know.” Almost shaking, YN looked away from him.
“What are you not telling me?“ The uncle stroked her cheek, offering her a weak smile.
“I can’t control it. At least I don’t think so.” YN gazed up at Dean. She whispered, “it’s really hard to pay attention. It’s not that I don’t want to.”
“Have you told him that?” Dean sat her back down at the table, and he sat in the next seat over.
“No…”
“Why not? He would understand.”
“Because he doesn’t love me.” YN tried to open up her textbook, but Dean slammed it shut. YN shrieked at the sudden movement and noise.
“What the HELL are you talking about, kid?” He forced her to look at him. “You KNOW that is not true.”
“It is. He just yells at me. He doesn’t care.”
“Have you started on your work-” Sam walked back into the room. YN froze.
“I was looking over it. She’s doing fine.” Dean smiled and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Keep going, smart stuff.” He gave her a sideways smile to convey his protection of their secret conversation. “You got this.”
“Thanks, Dee.”
Over the next few days, Dean kept an eye on YN. He saw the distress in her body language throughout the evenings. She paced and sat down for short periods of time before having to get up again.
“Here,” he walked into the room. Dean handed her some silly putty. “See if this helps you calm down,” he grinned and watched her open the container. YN pulled it out and stretched it.
“Thanks, Uncle Dee,” She stood up from her chair and hugged him. “But why are you being so nice? Aren’t you mad that I can’t concentrate?”
“No, I’m sad that you feel you can’t even talk to your dad.”
“Talk to your dad about what?” Sam walked in.
“Nothing. Just that I got an A today on my math test,” YN faked a smile.
“Imagine that, you got a good grade. You know why?” He asked gruffly. She held her breath. “Because you like math. What about language arts or science, huh? Get good grades in those too.” Sam walked out as quickly as he walked in.
“See?” YN laid her head on the table.
“You and I are going to have a fun day tomorrow, you hear me?”
“I can’t, Uncle Dee. I have tutoring.” she turned her head to face him.
“What if I told you I told your dad that I was taking you and that nerdy kid to the library tomorrow? I told him that you told me you study better there than at the house?” He grinned and stroked her hair. Your tutor-person is aware of my evil plan. Paid him and extra fifty. He won’t tell. “
“Really?” YN whispered.
“Yep,” he watched her sit up.
“Thank you. So, what are we going to do?”
The next day, the two went bowling and each ate a greasy hamburger. When they came home, Sam was sitting on the couch,
“So- did you have fun on your little excursion?” He continued to face the TV, not turning to them.
“Huh?” YN looked to Dean with wide eyes.
“Your backpack is still by the door,” Sam motioned with his hand.
“Shit.” Dean said between his teeth. “Sorry, YN,” he whispered.
“It’s fine.” YN leaned into him. She walked in front of her father.
“You are terrible in school, and when I pay for a tutor, you blow him off and galavant all over town with your uncle? And Dean? You know she needs this tutoring.” Sam turned to see his brother with a drawn face.
“You know, you are such an ass.” Dean walked over to his brother. Sam stood to challenge his brother.
“I’m trying to provide for her!”
Dean stood in front of YN to face Sam.
“You’re not seeing what’s going on right in front of you! I get that you’re busy with your cases. Being a lawyer keeps you busy, but she is not okay! When will you recognize that?” He moved so that Sam could see his daughter. “See? YN tries. Do you know how many times she’s cried in my arms because she is terrified of disappointing her Magna Cum Laude dad?”
Sam looked from Dean to YN. Tears cascaded down her face.
“Sweetie?” Sam’s stunned face told her that he understood.
“Since you were too busy to notice, I took her to the doctor. ‘Says she has ADHD.” Dean motioned to YN. She nodded in response. “Hasn’t started the meds yet though.”
“You took her to the doctor without me? That isn’t your job!”
Dean stepped forward so that he was inches from Sam’s face.
“You sure as hell weren’t doing it! I told you over and over something was up with her, and you didn’t do anything. She told you the same thing, and you didn’t listen to her either. What was I supposed to do? She’s my-” Dean stopped and sniffled. “She’s mine too, whether you realize it or not. I raised her too.” Dean relaxed his shoulders and stepped back. “YN is suffering and it isn’t her fault,” the uncle whispered. Sam peered past Dean to see YN like a statue, not sure what to do. Face blushing from the tension in the room, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Sam. He walked to her and got down on a knee to be eye-to-eye with her.
“I don’t even know what to say,” Sam told her. “I’m so sorry for everything. Everything I ever said or did to discount you.” YN continued looking away as new tears sprang forward, rolling toward her chin.
“I try harder than anyone else.” YN mouthed to her dad.
“I can only imagine,” Sam took her hand. “I am- I am so sorry, kiddo. If I’d known… I would have gotten you the right kind of help, not made you feel like a failure with the tutoring and demeaning comments. I thought you were- I don’t know. Just not wanting to pay attention.”
Dean quietly left the room.
“I like school. I just can’t sit still. Here, Dean gave me this. It helps.” She ran to the library and took the silly putty off of the desk. “See?” YN stretched it so that he could see how it worked.
“Of course Dean had that,” Sam laughed. “I’ll do better. I promise. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, daddy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. “I love you.”
Sam walked into Dean’s room without knocking later that day.
“How could I have missed it?”
Dean turned from folding his laundry on the bed.
“Because you’re busy and you didn’t slow down to see what was going on. At least you realize it now. I watched her. She couldn’t sit down. YN was fidgety and couldn’t stay still. She was so frustrated. I could tell she couldn’t control it. She’ll be okay now. It will take all of us to keep her going though. Meds don’t fix everything. You know that.” Dean threw a tshirt back on the bed without folding it.
“I should have seen it. You raised her too.”
____________
Forever Friends (Everything):
@katymacsupernatural @unicornblood4ever @ellie-andthemachine @supernatural-crazed-girl
@fangirl-moment-x @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl @super100012
@waywardnewcomer @percywinchester27 @waywardsuns @supernatural-jackles
@mcallmestiles @sdavid09 @kingandrear @bellero
@rosiewinchester @seality @blogsnowflakeme @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats
@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when
@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname *
@internationalmusicteacher @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @find-sammys-shoe
@encounterthepast @torn-and-frayed
@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99
@strangedeerconnoisseur @sbcamp08 @mangueweaschester
@idksupernatural @silverstripe101a
@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 * @supernatural3002 *
@tmiships4life * @breereadsthings * @mersuperwholocked-lowlife *
@a-magey @vicmc624 @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @beatifuldisaster018
@miraclesoflove
@myopiamystical
@fallen-wolf22
#dean x daughter!reader#Sam x niece!reader#supernatural#SupernaturalAU#mlovesstoriesiraisedhertoo#mlovesstories#mlovesstoriesau
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Lights Out
Summary: The elevator jolts and the lights flicker, before plunging them into total darkness. There's a Brooklyn-wide power outage, they're stuck in the precinct elevator and Amy is claustrophobic AF. Then her water breaks.
Based on this amazing (!!!) s7 finale theory by @luna-minerva. Thank you so much for letting me turn that into this. I really, really hope you love it.
She has a birth plan written out by her sixth month of pregnancy detailing her preferences for labor — dimmed lights, calming music, an epidural, Jake by her side at all times — laminated in the apartment, her go bag (already pre-packed in their family friendly sedan) and her everyday purse. She sent copies to her doctor, both their parents and Captain Holt, printed one for Jake to keep at work and saved a digital copy in the Notes app on both their phones. Just in case.
(“Single spaced, double sided: Santiago Style,” Jake grins when she hands over the final draft.
“Of course. It’s an important document about the most important moment of our lives. I want everything to go smoothly.”)
And for most of her pregnancy, it does. She sends him out for pierogis, potato pancakes and hot chocolate most nights, cries over every car commercial on TV and waddles around the apartment making sure everything is perfect for when the baby arrives. The doctor assures her that they’re both healthy, but she should take an early maternity leave, given the stresses of her job.
She survives for one day before she’s back at the precinct, prompting several raised eyebrows and whispers from around the bullpen. Ignoring all of them, she hitches her purse onto her shoulder, lifts her head, and marches determinately to her old desk.
“FOMOW?” Jake guesses with an amused smile.
“It’s not FOMOW,” she huffs in annoyance. “I just finished organising the nursery and since I was passing the precinct, I figured I’d come visit my husband, if that’s OK with you.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” he holds his hands up. “I’ve missed having a beautiful lady to look up at when my paperwork gets boring.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “I suppose you’ll do.”
She rolls her eyes, sitting down and trying to make herself as comfortable as possible, a difficult task when you’re as big as a whale and your back has been aching all day.
“Peralta,” Holt’s new assistant barks as he leaves Holt’s office, “you missed some signatures on this report.” He drops it on top of all the other open case files, candy wrappers and clutter on Jake’s desk, a welcome change from the way Gina would turn their work into paper airplanes and fly them across the bullpen. As Jake starts scribbling his name, Holt’s assistant notices Amy. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh, I’m OK. I work here. Well, I used to work here. I’m on maternity leave.”
“Of course,” he nods, realisation spreading across his face. “You’re Sergeant Santiago. Captain Holt mentions you constantly.”
“He does?” She clutches her heart. “Jake, did you hear that? Holt mentions me.”
He mouths “dork” and she sticks her tongue out at him.
“So when’s the baby due? You look ready to pop any day now.”
“Two weeks,” Jake answers on her behalf, sensing danger. The ‘ready to pop’ comment has been driving her crazy for weeks. She is well aware of her size and does not need perfect strangers reminding her. She’s pregnant, not a contestant on America’s Next Top Model. She’s supposed to be big. He shoves the signed documents into Holt’s assistant’s hands and glances apprehensively back at his wife. “You OK?”
“Mm-hmm.” She plasters on a brave face. “Can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually miss Gina.”
Jake snorts and presses play on CCTV footage of a robbery.
She twists her engagement ring on her finger, braids the ends of her hair and straightens a pile of folders on the desk. She is something of a workaholic and not being able to do anything is torture. “Any cool cases you’re working on?” She asks Jake, because what else are husbands for if not living vicariously through their work while on maternity leave?
“Hipster coffee shop got broken into last night. The owner was devastated that she had to drink Starbucks this morning like the rest of us instead of her fancy $8 million gold infused coffee blend from Outer Mongolia.”
“At least she gets to drink coffee,” Amy responds snarkily.
“Worth it though,” he grins. “And I’ll be your personal in-home barista once this baby is out.”
“Thanks, babe. You’re the sweetest.” She rounds their desks to give him a chaste kiss (she may not be in work but they are still at work), when something catches her eye on the screen. She instructs him to rewind the video, pointing out that the intruder has the same bone structure and blonde hair as the owner behind the counter.
Jake gasps. “It was an inside job!”
A failing business tries to scam the insurance company; it’s a tale as old as time.
He grabs his phone, gun and jacket in a rush to arrest the owner before they skip town.
“Can I come with you?”
“What?”
“I want to come with you. I’m the one who solved the case.”
“You’re pregnant. You can’t.”
“I’ll walk ahead of you, pretend I’m just a normal customer,” she pleads. “You know I’m good at going undercover. Remember Dora?”
“Of course I remember Dora, Johnny loved Dora, but this is different. It’s too dangerous.”
“They own a hipster coffee shop, Jake,” she deadpans. “They’re not going to hurt a pregnant lady. I’m FOMOWing so bad, I just want to be there.”
“Ames-.”
“Please, Jake,” she kicks her persuasion tactics up a few notches, pulling out the doe eyes and pout that she knows he can’t resist.
“Fine,” he concedes before she starts crying and playing the “I’m having your baby” card. “You can come. But if anything dangerous goes down, you have to get out of there straight away. You can’t get involved.”
“Deal.” She shakes his hand firmly (she took a refresher seminar a few months ago) and retrieves her purse from her old desk, following him to the elevator like old times. Peralta and Santiago off to take down bad guys (and look good doin’ it). Of course, there will be no actual taking down of bad guys nine months pregnant, although she could do it if she wanted to, she’s definitely felt the urge to kick Charles in the shin whenever he brings them disgusting foods or tries to kiss her belly.
Just being there is enough for now.
She speeds up, reaching the elevator before him and pressing the down button first. She smirks at him over her shoulder and steps inside when the doors open. Despite being married and expecting a kid together, their competitive edge has never wavered. In the last few months alone, they’ve bet on the sex of the baby, who would cry first when they heard the heartbeat, what fruit or vegetable their baby is that week and who can put a diaper on a football fastest. Bets are the cornerstone of their relationship — the original bet sparking Jake’s realisation that he liked her liked her — and Amy can’t wait for their kids to join in when they’re old enough.
(Kids, plural, because for some reason, even after difficulty conceiving and morning sickness and FOMOW, she would still go through pregnancy all over again. They don’t quite want eight like her parents, but at least one more would be nice).
Rosa’s black boots stop the elevator doors closing and she squeezes through the gap. “Got an early lunch date,” she explains.
“Oh,” Amy says, sharing A Look™️ with Jake. Rosa hasn’t dated anyone since Jocelyn dumped her, choosing to be on her own for a while since she hasn’t really had time alone to process her almost marriage to Pimento, prison and coming out. Repairing her relationship with her parents has been her #1 priority and this is the first Amy’s heard about her seeing someone new. “Is it... serious?” She tries not to push too hard because otherwise Rosa will just close off (it’s pointless asking about names or jobs or appearance), which is hard because she just wants her to be as happy as she is with Jake, but also knows from past experience that Rosa will eventually reveal the information when she’s ready.
“It could be,” she responds vaguely. “I like her, but she’s a doctor so we both work way too much.”
“Well, I hope it works out. You deserve someone really great.”
Rosa pulls her in for a tight, unexpected hug. “Thanks, Santiago,” she murmurs, her voice cracking as if she’s about to cry.
The elevator jolting and lights flickering ruins the moment. After a few terrifying seconds, it stops completely and they are plunged into darkness.
Amy’s blood runs cold, panic filling her lungs. She’s had this nightmare a million times, having suffered with claustrophobia ever since her brothers locked her in a closet as a kid.
She hears Jake’s “cool, cool, cool, cool, cool” and Rosa saying that it’s probably a power cut, but she can’t speak. She can’t do anything but think about how they’re never going to get out and how the squad will have to send them food supplies through the safety hatch in the ceiling and how they’ll have to raise their baby in this tiny metal box, teaching her to count using the buttons to the different precinct floors.
She feels pain, a fun combination of Braxton Hicks that she’s been having for weeks and panic attack. She tries to focus on her breathing and not on the four walls closing in on her. When the breathing techniques fail, she focuses on Jake.
Kind, funny, handsome Jake. Her husband, but more than that, her best friend. She concentrates on the toothpaste stain on the front of his shirt, his unruly curls that she loves so much, the ring on his finger glinting in the light from Rosa’s phone. His own phone is pressed to his ear and she can only hear one side of the conversation but it’s clear that he’s debriefing Holt.
“- Me, Amy, Rosa -"
“- We’re fine, just stuck -"
“- How long? -”
“Shit.” He hangs up, pocketing his phone. “Power’s out everywhere. Our back-up generators haven’t kicked in, something about air in the fuel system. The fire department are busy with the blackout and we’re apparently not an emergency, so. We could be in here a while.”
“Shit,” Rosa echoes his sentiment.
“Yeah. You OK, Ames?” He turns his attention to her.
She shakes her head meekly.
“Claustrophobic?” Rosa guesses, remembering her reaction to being locked in the trunk when she was trying to get her and Gina to face their fears.
She nods.
“We can play Celebrity to distract ourselves. I’ll go first. He’s the greatest actor -.”
“Bruce Willis,” Amy and Rosa say at the same time.
“Thought I’d give you an easy one to start,” he blushes.
Amy almost laughs despite the overwhelming fear. She loves him, Bruce Willis obsession and all. She takes a few seconds to think of someone good. Then, “They’re in - oh - water -.”
“They’re in water?” Rosa repeats, confused. “You mean like Jaws?”
“Or Finding Dory?” Jake adds. He made her watch the movie with him after Pimento’s Memento disease and now wants to buy a fish and call it Dory, even though he famously killed her fish back when they were dating. “Is it Ellen?”
“No, my water.”
Jake and Rosa both look down in horror. She buries her face in her hands. As if this situation could not get any worse.
“At least this classifies us as an emergency now,” Jake quips.
Rosa does Amy a favour and punches him in the arm.
--
They notify Holt — who in turn notifies the FDNY — and Jake sends a text to both their parents.
Rosa climbs onto Jake’s shoulders and opens the safety hatch so Charles can lower a care package of towels and bottled water into the elevator.
(He also delivers Sour Candies, upon Jake’s request).
Terry tries to pull the doors apart, but even his tree trunk arms are no match for the heavy metal.
Amy breathes through her contractions, stubbornly determined to stick to her birth plan and give birth in the hospital.
Her body, however, has other ideas.
“Four minutes apart now,” Rosa announces. She punches a wall out of frustration. “Where the hell are those firefighters?”
“They’re not going to make it in time,” Jake responds, equally frustrated. “Camila warned me months ago that Santiago babies come early, fast and are always boys.”
“This baby is half-Peralta and a girl. She might be the exception.” Amy takes a sip of water, ignoring the look of disbelief on Jake’s face.
“Diaz, you went to med school, tell my wife that this baby isn’t going to wait.”
Rosa opens her mouth to speak but Amy cuts her off.
“Diaz, tell my husband that the contractions aren’t even that painful and we have time.”
--
As it turns out, they don’t have time at all.
She’s feels pressure, the urge to push, and not even the glug glug glug of Rosa’s babbling brook sounds can calm her down.
“I do not want to give birth in the precinct elevator,” she cries.
Jake, on back rubbing duty, exchanges nervous glances with Rosa. She’s fully dilated and with the fire department still busy tackling other emergencies, this is happening. Right here. Right now.
“You know, it’s actually kind of perfect, Ames. We first met outside this elevator, right? And I kept the elevator doors open to let you win the Jimmy Jabs because of my massivecrush on you. And then you let me win to save our car. We fell in love in this precinct. It’s where we had our first for realz kiss, where we got engaged, where we got married. It’s kind of fitting that it’s also where our baby is going to be born.”
She tilts her head back to kiss him, ignoring Rosa’s complaints that they’re gross.
She thinks back to her wedding vows. Not everything is in our control, but as long as you’re with the right people you can handle anything. And you, Jake Peralta, are the right person for me. She can handle this with Jake by her side. She can bring their daughter into the world.
“OK... I’m ready.”
“That’s my girl,” Jake says proudly, shuffling into a better position to hold her hand and see the baby when she comes out.
They all disinfect their hands with Purrell from Amy’s purse and Rosa explains what’s going to happen and Jake jokes that he feels like Sandra Oh in Grey’s Anatomy.
Rosa rolls her eyes. “Christina was a heart surgeon, dumb dumb. You’re thinking of Addison. What?” She questions at their surprised expressions. “I like Grey’s Anatomy! It makes me feel things! I’m not totally heartless.”
Amy releases a string of expletives as another contraction starts.
“We’re going to start pushing on the next one,” Rosa instructs, forgetting her favourite medical drama.
Amy nods quickly.
Jake brushes fallen strands of hair away from her sweat-covered skin and takes her hand. “Squeeze as hard as you need to, babe.”
--
No amount of studying or listening to her mom’s stories could prepare her for the pain of pushing a baby out. It’s worse than the time her brother pushed her off the monkey bars when she was eight and she broke her arm, worse than the time she got shot in the line of duty, worse than the heartbreak of Jake being sentenced to 15 years in prison. It’s worse than anything she’s ever experienced and when it’s over she has so many questions for her mom, including why on Earth did she do this so many times?!
She’s also going to thank Jake for not complaining once and buy Rosa many drinks for her part in all this.
Having her colleague deliver her baby was definitely not part of the birth plan, but out of everyone they work with, she’s glad that it’s Rosa.
Rosa who’s been there for Jake since the Academy.
Rosa who has always had her back, too, who comforted her when Jake was in Florida, helped get her to her Sergeant’s exam on time and encouraged Jake to ask her out.
(And thank God she did).
--
Labor is exhausting.
It’s painful and emotional and long.
“You’re so close,” Jake cheers her on when she hits a wall.
“He’s right. I can see her head. One more push, Santiago.”
“I can’t-.”
“You can,” Rosa insists. “1,000 push ups.”
“OK,” she whispers. Rosa doesn’t just throw around 1,000 push ups willy nilly. It means something. And if Rosa is so confident that she can do this, then she can do it.
She pushes and pushes and eventually hears a baby’s cry.
It’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.
When Rosa places her in Amy’s arms for immediate skin-to-skin, all four of them are openly weeping.
She’s the most perfect person she’s ever seen.
“I love you both so much,” Jake murmurs, kissing the top of Amy’s head. He leans down to kiss his daughter, too, marvelling over the fact that he gets to say my daughter now.
They cuddle for a while, quietly bickering over who she looks most like. They decide that she has Jake’s hair, nose and mouth and, when she opens her eyes for a second to see what all the fuss is about, he is thrilled to discover that she has the same beautiful eyes as her mom.
They wrap her up in Jake’s favourite blue hoodie to keep her warm and Rosa snaps their first official family portrait and sends it to their parents, Amy’s brothers and the Nine-Nine’s WhatsApp group. She reads out the messages of congratulations that fly in, making Jake and Amy both cry some more.
Finally she interrupts their family time to cut the cord, pulling out her pocket knife and lighter from her leather jacket.
Jake’s eyes go comically wide. “You’re going to use a knife?”
“Do you have any other suggestions?” She snaps.
He falls silent.
“Thought so.” She sterilises the blade (recently sharpened following Brad Leone’s tutorial from the BA Test Kitchen) with her lighter and carefully cuts the umbilical cord.
“Say thank you Tía Rosa,” Amy coos, stroking her daughter’s tiny hand.
“Tía?”
“Mm-hmm,” Amy hums with a tired smile. “We were going to ask you to be her godmother anyway, but I think you have more than earned that role now.”
“I’d be honoured,” she responds.
--
After another hour and a half stuck in the elevator, the lights come back on, the elevator doors open with a ping and they are suddenly faced with a crowd of concerned police officers, firefighters and paramedics, little Maya Peralta gracing the rest of the world in the most dramatic of fashion.
The firefighters spring into gear, holding the elevator doors shut while others help Amy into an awaiting wheelchair.
Jake hovers next to the paramedics as they check Maya’s vitals. Thankfully, everything is normal, they clean her up and replace Jake’s blood-stained hoodie with a warm blanket.
“She’s perfect,” the female paramedic tells him as she hands Maya back to her dad, confirming what he knew the second he laid eyes on her.
They then turn their attention to Amy, who is fine — more than fine, she’s the happiest she’s ever been — just a little sore. They decide to take them both into hospital as a precautionary measure since Maya is two weeks early (Santiago Style!), packing up their equipment while Jake and Amy introduce the Nine-Nine’s newest recruit to the rest of the squad.
Terry says something about little girls being the best, Hitchcock and Scully claim not to have known Amy was even pregnant and Holt’s stoic façade crumbles when Maya grips his finger with her entire hand.
Charles’ eyes are red and puffy like he’s been crying, but he’s uncharacteristically calm when Jake asks if he wants to hold her. He nods, of course, and is enamoured with her the moment he feels her weight in his arms.
This isn’t how she planned it —none of it is — she wanted the controlled hospital birth and the grandparents to meet the baby first and she really wanted to catch the perp from the coffee shop robbery, but Jake was right. It’s kind of perfect that she was born here, in the Nine-Nine, surrounded by their second family.
She meets her husband’s eye and smiles.
#b99 fics#jake x amy#my writing#I'm really proud of this so I hope you all love it#also the knife thing turned out to.....not be as big of a deal as I expected#but thank you for your advice anyway#let me know what you think!!!!!
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