#this nearly brought me to tears thank you OP | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bethdutten · 2 years

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Uh that's great, because I have an idea for Captain Sy×reader in my mind. Imagine dancing with Sy to Tennessee Whiskey from Chris Stapleton on the wedding day. I think it would be so romantic and I really love that song!

not to be super controversial but sy is one of the HOTTEST characters like… 😮‍💨 my god look

Sy didn’t want to dance at your wedding.

It took a lot of convincing, and a world-class blowjob to get him to agree it to. On his last tour, he hurt his leg on an op bad enough to earn him an honourable discharge, and he still went to physio three times a week so he could walk without being in excruciating pain.

It scared you to death, getting that call. But it brought him home to you, eventually.

But you wanted that dance. You earned it, after years of worry and fear that Sy would be hurt or killed while he was away, welcoming him home for whatever short period of time he could manage before he left again. You loved him more than anything, and you’d take whatever kind of life you could get with him, than live without him.

He proposed the first year you were dating, promising he’d always come back to you, and he’d marry you. It took a brush with death for him to finally follow through.

So, you felt like you deserved this dance.Those three minutes of Sy holding you in his arms and knowing he just promised to love and take care of you forever, and knowing you'd do the same for him. Three minutes, that was all.

“Three minutes of me lookin’ like an fuckin’ idiot and wantin’ to die, sweetheart? Sounds like you’re askin’ a lot from your old man,” Sy had grumbled in that rough Southern drawl, earning him an eye roll.

“That’s dramatic.”

“Babe, I can hardly walk,” he’d said gently, eyes on the floor. You knew he’d been struggling since getting back; not just with the nightmares, the mental barriers of being stateside again, but the physical ones, too. He wasn’t the same man anymore, in more ways than one.

You curled up to him on the couch, tucking yourself under his arm. “I don’t mean to pull the “army wife” card, but I didn’t ask for a lot, for years. Just that you come home to me. And now I’m asking for this. We have five month, baby. You’re getting stronger every day. Use it as something to work towards. For me, Captain Syverson?”

That’s all it took-- he turned to you with a sigh, a twitch of a grin on his lips behind that beard. “Shit, honey. You know there ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you. You gonna abuse that for the rest of our lives?”

You laughed, a hand on the nape of his neck as you pulled him in for a kiss. “You can do the same to me.”

He grunted when your other hand moved to that deliciously thick thigh, squeezing gently. “You fuckin’ know I will, sugar.”

He did so, so well. The wedding was small, intimate and filled with family and the group of friends and soldiers still around. Sy looked so handsome-- he’d trimmed the beard, his curls grown out a bit and brushed into place. You’d never seen him in a suit, let alone a tux before, and had to clutch onto your dad’s arm particularly hard to stop your legs from giving out when you saw him standing up there.

You only caught him wincing twice throughout the entire ceremony and the walk to the wedding party table. The reception was on the land Sy had bought a few years ago, close enough to hear the waves from the Gulf of Mexico down the road. The Texas sunset was beautiful, but you hardly noticed it, too focused on Sy.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, either. He raised your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss right below your wedding ring.

“I love you.” You smiled, choking back tears once again. Thank god for waterproof mascara or the ceremony would have left you looking like the Joker. “I love you, too, baby. I’m so glad you’re here.”

He knew what you meant-- here, at your wedding. Here, at home. Here, in your arms. There were a few close calls over the years, and he knew he’d put you through hell. Which is why he didn’t feel nearly as pained as he carefully stood up and kept your hand in his.

“Dance with me?”

Your eyes shined, and you broke out into the widest grin yet. You were serious when you asked him to try to dance for you, but you really wouldn’t have held it against him if he wasn’t feeling up to it. In fact, you were kind of expecting him to not be ready for it. “Really?”

He nodded, his slight limp barely noticeable as he led you to the dance floor with a hand on the small of your back. A song started playing, and suddenly the floor got empty, just the twinkling of the fairy lights and the setting sun illuminating the floor.

But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottle And brought me back from being too far gone

You rested one hand on Sy’s shoulder, your cheek pressed down beside it as he held your other hand and slowly swayed you to the music. It was barely dancing; his left leg was still fucked, and he wasn’t a dancer even under the best circumstances. But it was good enough for you, and your closed your eyes to listen to his heartbeat in time with the song.

You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey You're as sweet as strawberry wine You're as warm as a glass of brandy And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

You felt Sy rest his cheek on the top of your head, squeezing your hand a little harder. It occurred to you that maybe this moment meant just as much to him as it did to you-- he was in the middle of a war for most of his life. His head still went back there too often, and it wasn’t always easy to be with him. He probably never imagined he would get something like this.

And he didn’t. As Sy held you in his arms, it hit him that he almost died less than a year ago. As he laid there in the dust and blood in a country hundreds of miles from you, all he could think of was never hearing your laugh again, never touching your lips, never getting to call you his wife and make you a mother and make good on all the promises he made under cover of stars and sheets in between deployments.

But when you poured out your heart I didn't waste it 'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high

You lifted your head and rested your hand on his face, your thumb brushing under his eye. He didn’t even realize he was crying until you gave him an equally watery smile, laughing together.

Everything blurred around you, and the whole world narrowed down to you and Sy, not even dancing anymore, just holding each other close and listening to the song winding down.

You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey Tennessee whiskey Tennessee whiskey

You leaned in and kissed him, this man who was now your husband, this strong and virile Special Forces army man who turned into a purring mess in your hands, thanking god for bringing him home to you. Sy was smooth, and sweet, and warm-- and rough, and hardened and protective in a way that made your toes curl.

And Sy looked down at the woman in his arms as he reluctantly pulled away from your lips, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and breathing out for the first time since he got home, because he finally, finally, felt like he was home.

#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson x reader #syverson fic #syverson fluff #henry cavill x reader

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narcissisticmf · 3 years

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come back, please | peter pevensie x fem!reader

description: y/n lives in narnia and after the pevensie siblings leave, she feels like her connection with peter was left unfinished. she begs aslan to go see him in his world.

trigger warnings: angst, violence, sword fighting, mentions of anxiety/depression, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 3.1k

You stood beside Caspian as you watched Aslan stand before the crowd of Telmarines and Narnians. The air was rather brisk that day, you felt your clothed arms grow subtle goosebumps all amongst them. You attempted to avoid eye contact with anyone except Aslan, for you were unable to look to the Pevensie siblings without shedding a tear or two, or many more. You felt Caspian nudge your arm softly with his elbow as a way to comfort you without using words. You forced a small smile to your glossy lips and continued to look at Aslan.

"If any Telmarines wish, I will return you to your forefathers. I'm not referring to Telmar, either. Your ancestors were seafaring brigands. Pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world. The same world as our kings and queens," Aslan trailed off and continued to explain more about where he would send any of the volunteers.

When he'd mentioned the kings and queens of Narnia, your eyes flickered to the Pevensies. The warmth in your eyes slowly started to grow cold when you locked your gaze with Peter, who looked back at you with a gentle expression. Through your lashes, tears blurred your vision. You felt as though you shouldn't be crying, you did your best to fight it, but the tears continued to trickle down from your waterline, along your cheeks staining your soft skin.

After a family had offered to go through with Aslan's offer, he awaited upon another volunteer. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing what was coming when Peter stepped forth.

"We'll go," He swallowed thickly, his gaze bounced from Aslan to you.

"We will?" Lucy's voice raised in pitch.

"Come on. Our time's up," Peter released a breath and walked towards you and Caspian. His attention was solely on the prince as he pulled off his sword. "After all, we're not really needed here anymore," He handed the sword over to Caspian who took it in his grasp.

"I will look after it until your return," Caspian spoke with incandescence.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan spoke up. You glanced up to her with a knowing expression. "We're not coming back," She finished.

You felt Peter stand before you, but your eyes refused to look up to him. Without making any weeps, hot tears fell down along your flushed cheeks. Your blurred vision caught a glimpse of Peter's hands motion towards your face. His warm palms caressed your wet cheeks, making you finally look up to him.

"Why must you go, Peter?" You released in a soft whisper, nearly inaudible.

"I've learned what I can from this world, Y/N.. it is time for me to live in my own," He spoke gently, a subtle sadness under his tone.

"I will miss you so much," You choked out, in an attempt to keep your voice steady, but you failed miserably.

Peter parted his glossy lips and stared at you with the most comforting gaze you could imagine. He snuck his arms around your shoulders and buried his face into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his torso with all the emotional strength you had left in you. You couldn't let go, not until he would first.

"Don't forget me," You whispered, lifting your head up to look at him.

"Never," Peter pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and let the warmth from your forehead spread throughout the rest of your body.

You felt Peter pull away, his fingers grazing across your sides as he stepped back, keeping his eyes upon you as he made his way to stand beside his siblings. Caspian and Susan shared a goodbye beside you, but you continued to watch Peter as he did you.

A burning sensation overtook your eyes as you watched the Pevensie siblings make their way between the trees of which Aslan had made for anyone who wished to go into another world. As soon as they stepped between the trees, they disappeared and you were left with your heart sunken into your stomach. More tears trickled down your cheeks as you stood silently watching the same spot Peter once stood.

More Narnians and Telmarines volunteered to go, but not all. Many people chose to stay. You planned to stay in Narnia with Caspian and the rest of the Narnians. You continued to stand still, watching the same place Peter was last seen before he disappeared.

The night was rather cold in Narnia, brisk wind and starry nights. You remained in the same spot for hours on end, still staring at the same tree. You hadn't known why you felt so weakened by Peter's departure, but you knew there was no way you'd be able to cope in any healthy manner.

"Don't you think it is time you get some rest?" Caspian's voice was heard from behind you. You couldn't break your gaze from the trees as more tears begun to fall.

"He's not coming back," You whispered through your parted, dry lips.

Caspian begun to walk up along the steps behind you. He stood to your side and followed your gaze to the same tree. "If it makes you feel any better, I am just as unhappy to know that Susan will not be back either," Caspian stated quietly.

"Knowing we are both miserable makes me even more unhappy," You released a soft breath, feeling emotionally tired.

Caspian sighed and continued to stand beside you, for even his company may do some good for you. After hours upon hours of looking through the trees, you broke your gaze and looked at Caspian. His eyes found yours and your parted your dry lips, breathing slowly.

"I've done enough mourning for one day," You spoke, "Goodnight, Caspian."

Starting down the steps, you walked along the stone of the fortress and headed towards your chamber. With sleep, prehaps, you'd be able to regain some emotional strength for the days to come.

The sun's rays snuck through the curtains of your chamber and struck your eyes mildly. You groaned and turned over, in no desire to awaken just yet. Your body felt awfully heavy and the skin around your eyes puffed due to how much you'd been crying.

Slowly, you fluttered your eyes opened and felt the mixture of mucus and tears harden along the inner corners of both your eyes. You took your knuckles and rubbed them away, releasing a deep sigh as you did so. You begun to sit up against the headboard of your bed. You pushed yourself off the mattress and walked barefoot about your room. You quickly changed from your sleepwear to your armor. Although not needed, you decided to practice some sword fighting early that day, in hopes of getting your mind off of Peter.

You pulled your boots on over your barefeet and grabbed your sword from the case at the end of your bed. Hurrying across the hall, you made your way out into the field where many Narnians were gathered. You kept your eyes peeled for Caspian, in hopes of asking him to practice with you.

"You're looking well rested this morning, Y/N," The voice of Caspian was heard from behind you, making you jump.

"Don't creep up on me like that," You scolded softly and watched him chuckling lightly. "Mind practicing with me for a little while? I need to get my mind preoccupied."

Caspian nodded his head, "Allow me to get my sword first." You nodded in response and scurried out further into the field, where you both would maintain a harmless battle away from the rest of the Narnians.

Awaiting in the field, you held your sword by the handle, having the blade kiss the grass. The sun's rays were potent that day, the leather armor against your body grew hot against your skin. When Caspian was seen in the distance with his sword and two shields, you released a breath and felt the adrenaline begin to build.

"We can't fight without shields," Caspian offered a grin as he tossed one to you. You rolled your eyes playfully and held up the shield in your free hand. "Ready?" He asked as he stood relatively far from you.

"Are you?" You offered with an evil glint, swinging the blade towards him as he dodged it with his shield. When Caspian tried to strike you from the head, you bent down so that you'd dodge his hit. You took the opportunity to swing your sword at his feet, causing him to stumble backwards.

You stood straight and watched as he slowly got up, swinging his sword towards you from the left and right. A grunt left your lips when your blade came to contact with Caspian's shield, a spark flew off the metal.

You couldn't help but remember Peter, how you and he would often practice together. Mostly because your sword fighting needed some work, but never directly spoke of that. You missed him truly and it grew harder to come into terms with when you knew you'd never see him again.

Caspian's strike to your blade kicked you from your thoughts. You mentally thanked him for that. You let out another grunt and swung your sword to his, the strike so powerful that it knocked it from his grasp. Caspian looked rather surprised and when you kept swinging, he dodged almost every hit with his shield.

You swung beneath his feet, which caused him to jump, swiftly avoiding your hit. You watched as Caspian reached for his sword upon the grass, making you swing to his shield again.

The both of you froze when you turned to notice Aslan was watching over the field at the top of the castle, overseeing all the Narnians. You released a soft breath and slowly brought your blade down, endless thoughts of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy ran through your mind. You dropped your sword and begun to run back into the castle.

"Y/N! Where are you going?" Caspian called, but you were already hot upon your feet, too fast to turn back.

You scurried up the stairs, making left and right turns until you'd make it to the top, where Aslan stood overseeing everything and everyone. You needed to take the opportunity you had to speak with him yourself. You opened the doors to the top and looked straight ahead, seeing Aslan still there, before the same tree you spent all of yesterday looking at.

"Aslan," You breathed out and watched as his head turned to look at you. His light green eyes found yours, his mane moved softly with the brisk wind. You made your way towards him and stopped once you came to the edge.

"I see you've been practicing on your skill, dear one," Aslan stated, turning his head toward you.

"I need something to occupy my mind," You bashfully admitted.

"Missing them, are you?" He asked, with concern.

"More than I would like to admit."

"I miss them too, Edmund and Lucy will return eventually, in a few years potentially," Aslan continued to look at you, finding your face was written with distress. "What's the matter, dear one?"

"I must see Peter again," You spoke in a shaky tone. "I want him to come back and be here."

"Y/N, Peter has grown and learned all that he could from this world," Aslan said, his eyes softening.

"Can't I visit him in his world?" You spoke gently.

"Yes, but only for a little while," Aslan breathed out.

"How long?" You whispered.

"Two days of their world and then you will return."

You nodded gently, parting your lips as you stared at Aslan. He nodded in response and motioned towards the trees, the wind picked up in and the leaves rustled against the thin branches. You watched with a mesmerized gaze, keeping your eyes locked with the leaves. The color of the sky faded into a dark grey from a light blue. You squinted softly and turned your head to look before you. The road was slick and droplets from the sky fell rapidly down upon the ground. Puddles overflown against the sides of the road.

Glancing down at your clothing, you noticed you'd been dressed in a maroon colored uniform with your hair now straightened against your shoulders. You parted your lips and turned to look around, noticing how busy the streets were.

Slowly, you stepped forth to make sure no oncoming vehicles would hit you, when both sides of thr street were clear, you scurried across and made it to the other end, seeing that many a persons walked about the concrete. You'd been in Narnia so long that you'd forgotten what the streets were like during the daylight. You questioned if daylight would still be referred to as the same despite the gloomy whether that arose over England.

You turned your head to notice several people were exiting the underground railway station. You felt a nervousness grow deep inside your stomach. The center of your palms produced a thin layer of sweat when your eyes were met with four people you knew all too well in your world. You parted your lips softly and watched as Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy came up from the staircase and upon the same sidewalk as you had been upon. You were unsure if they'd recognize you, being so far away.

Your eyes locked with Lucy as she turned her head and noticed you. She had a wide grin upon her face as she reached to tug Peter's sleeve, her gaze never breaking with yours. Your lips formed into the most beautiful smile, shining ever so brightly on such a dull day.

When Peter looked to Lucy, she pointed towards you and her eldest brother followed where her finger led to. When his deep blue eyes fell into your warm ones, he froze in a state of shock, but also great happiness as you could tell his smile was rising. You missed everything of him, his smile, his eyes, his voice, his arms and his incandescent attitude. Susan and Edmund were the last to notice you, smiling happily.

You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, you begun to run towards them with pure excitement running through your veins. The adrenaline ran through you like wildfire, spreading about beneath the surface of your skin. The pit of your excitement lied within your chest, where your heart was palpitating like crazy.

"Peter!" You smiled as he started running in your direction. Behind him, the rest of the Pevensie siblings ran to you. You released inhaled deeply once you were close enough to Peter. His smile was wide as he wrapped his arms around your torso, lifting you up and spinning around with a sweet laugh escaping his lips. You hugged his shoulders and buried your face into his neck.

"Ah! Y/N, I missed you," Peter spoke as though a large weight was taken off of his shoulders.

"I missed you.. all of you," You let happy tears trickle down your cheeks as Peter placed you down onto the concrete. You slowly peeled back from him and took Lucy into a hug, along with Susan and Edmund.

"How did you get back?" Susan asked with a grin to her lips.

"Aslan, I will be here in your world for two days," You released a breath.

"Why two days?" Lucy questioned.

"I suppose it has a lot to do with how much I miss you all.. how terrible it was to let you go the first time.. it'll hurt no less the second time," You sighed gently.

You looked from Lucy to Peter with a softening expression. "If it's okay, I would like to speak to you," You mentioned softly.

"I'll catch up with you, wait at the traffic light for me," Peter looked to Edmund, Susan and Lucy as they all nodded and headed up along the sidewalk. You turned to look at Peter, who was already staring down upon you.

"I couldn't bear it," You released in a gentle breath. Peter offered his hand and you gladly took it, feeling an overwhelming sense of butterflies in your stomach. He lead you to a small bench before the road and you took a seat in it, soon after he did as well.

"Peter, I wish you could come back with me," You admitted.

"I wish I could as well," He pressed his lips together, "But I'm afraid I am just grown too old to go back."

"You're never too old for Narnia," You spoke softly. Peter offered a thin smile and took your hand in his own, entwining your fingers together.

"Come back, please," You felt your eyes brim with tears, "There's so much I haven't gotten to tell you."

Peter gently took his free hand and brushed away the tears from beneath your eyes. "What is it that you haven't gotten to tell me, Y/N?" He whispered and leaned in closer, making the moment much more intimate.

"Two days won't be enough time," You looked up to him.

"Come back, bring Lucy, Susan and Edmund.. Narnia needs you. I need you," You admitted ever so gently. "I'm unsure if Aslan will ever do this for me again, Peter."

Peter rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your fingers intertwind with his own. "There's only one thing Narnia has that I would go back for in a mere second," His voice lowered.

"What is it?" Your eyes flickered up into his own, a deep nervousness kicked back into your stomach.

Peter pulled his head back gently and smiled, his dimples caving in as he did so. You parted your glossy lips and watched as his blue eyes locked with yours. You felt your body move closer to him, not physically, but rather emotionally.

Before you could comprehend it, your lips were overtaken by Peter's. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and gave into the kiss, feeling your lips mold together in the most perfect sync. You felt his chest press against your own. You took the opportunity to cup his cheeks with your palms, feeling pure gaiety within your body. You missed Peter more than you could even begin to explain. You were unsure where else this kiss would lead, but you had no intent to rush there.

a/n: hello lovies!! so this may have been one of my favorite things i've ever written. i know it's angsty but those are the types of pieces i love writing the most. i hope you enjoyed this one and who knows maybe i'll write a part two? hmm? haha! anyway, thank you so much for reading! be safe and treat people with kindness. — angelina.

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Stubborn

Everybody taking care of old Hotch because... I don't like it when old Hotch gets left to just die on his own :( don't ask why that's where I draw the line

No pairings

No warnings

In Jack’s second semester of his junior year, Hotch collapses again. He’s home this time, out in his garden under the glaring sun. The day had begun no different than any other. The birds on the powerline chirping and causing their disturbances, as eager for the day to begin as the school-aged children shouting in the street. He’d watched them from the sliding glass door facing the street, his tea warm in his hands. He’d waved at a few, the older ones who recognize him as a mystifying adult with stories to be unlocked. The younger children give him a face akin to a monster’s, his mystery horrifying in their already confusing enough lives.

It’s an hour before lunch. Two hours before Spencer shows up because it’s Thursday and he teaches a class on this side of town every Tuesday and Thursday at 2. One that he occasionally asks Hotch to attend -- as a guest lecturer, as a treat to his students, or just for the company.

He could call just about anyone.

Emily’s downtown, on her way back from a meeting with the Department of Justice. She’d be thrilled for an excuse to not go back to the office and spend an hour or two in his kitchen telling him about those pretentious assholes.

Garcia’s about ten minutes away, working at a nonprofit teaching “at-risk” kids how to code. Being the guiding hand she’d needed as a teenager so that they might not repeat the same mistakes she made. She was lucky, Hotch saved her but he’s not around to catch any more kids like her.

Morgan got hired by a family two streets over to fix up their house before they move in. He’s there now, tearing out rotting beams.

This collapse is not of the life-threatening kind. Not to Hotch at least. There’s no internal bleeding, no emergency surgeries. He doesn’t even need stitches but he’s on so many medications that thin his blood that it’s just on the safer side. From the hospital, he calls who he needs to. Reid first, he’ll worry when he gets to Hotch’s house and sees his truck gone. Then, Jack, it’s better to hear this sort of thing from him and not Emily in half an hour when she needs to yell at someone and who better than the son of the idiot she hates right now? Dave and Emily follow and he trusts them to carry the news the rest of the way. Rather, he simply doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d rather Garcia and JJ and Morgan and everyone else just be mad at him than go on to have another conversation about how he’s feeling.

Fine. He just got light-headed. It was the heat and his perpetually low iron and probably his thin blood (the killer had been his blood pressure but they’re working on that). He just needs to get better about remembering to eat breakfast -- a larger breakfast than just tea and toast. Fainting, he assures Dave, happens. Jack’s seen it happen. The heat makes it worse, the summertime drains him. He’s come in from the garden and gotten weak in the knees plenty of times. He actually moved some chairs around the sliding glass door to the yard, prepared for this exact problem.

This over clarification does not help.

Made only the more complicated when he explains his head is fine. The fainting thing really isn’t a big deal, he just needs a ride home. He’d landed weirdly and pulled his back. He left with a new problem entirely, a torn ligament in his shoulder. That is a problem for a different day.

The surgery is set for the week just before Jack’s finals. Armed with a suitcase full of textbooks, his laptop, notes from this semester (and a few from last), and just enough clothes to recycle a few and still be fine, Jack shows up on his father’s doorstep. “I mean, the hospital isn’t exactly the library… but it’s not the worst place I’ve studied.” It’s far too late to send Jack back but Hotch is reluctant to let him stay. Even if he does prefer Jack be his ride rather than the likes of Penelope and that tiny green eye-sore of a car she drives or leave him to Reid and his defensive, jerky driving.

To the sound of “Aaron Hotchner November 2, 1971”, Jack settles down with his books. He tries to put himself in the right headspace for studying but it’s harder than he anticipated. The constant motion of the room unsettles him and he looks up several times to see his father’s reaction. To gauge the anxiety in his face, in the deep breathes that he pulls in through his nose. In how tight his fists are holding the sheets underneath him. It’s a simple surgery and they’ll be out of here in no time.

“Young” his heart had not handled the heavy sedatives and morphine well. Then again, those incidents are always hard to measure against a thing like this. Rushed into the ER with nine chest wounds and having nearly bled to death, it’s natural to conclude the stress of his depleted blood supply and his very recent trauma had caused his heart to stop on the table. That said trauma was the reason his heart had maintained to be a steady problem up until they released him. Again, when he was brought in with some of the worst internal bleedings the staff had ever seen. His heart had given them trouble too.

Jack is staring blankly at his flashcards when the doctor comes out.

Hotch had gone to Georgetown to be a lawyer like his father and his grandfather. Jack went to Georgetown to get an Art History degree. He was lead by something else. Not chasing some shadow, clutching at a lie he spoonfed himself. Jack didn’t live in anyone’s shadow, never felt the pressure to look and act a certain way. Was never beaten into submission or told to hold his tongue. Jack went to museums every Saturday with his father, preferred them to the aquariums and the zoo. Hotch held him close to the artwork, pushed his dense schedule around to go to new shows, and learned the names of pieces just to recite the knowledge back to Jack.

In his lap, Jack is memorizing pieces of art like his father had years ago for him. He’s stuck on The Anatomy Lesson, eyes glued to the details. The way colorless skin is held in forceps, peeled back to reveal angry red. He can feel the pinching teeth on his own skin, feels the heavy flow of hot blood spilling down over his arm.

“Hotchner?”

Jack flinches, caught completely off guard. He stands, flushing as he tucks his notecards into his textbook, and stands. “Ugh, yeah. That’s me.” He wipes his hands off on his pants, rubbing away the nervous sweat he’s built up.

The doctor recognizes him from earlier. He’d watched Jack and Hotch get out one last goodbye. Jack pulling up a nervous smile, dirty-blonde hair, and light eyes a complete contrast to Hotch’s ever-darkening features. Somehow more solemn, voice taken by the sedatives already working through his body. He hadn’t said a word, eyes vacantly following Jack’s movements but unaware.

Jack expects the same monologue he hears every time. The one that comes out so dry and perfect that they must practice it in front of the mirror, say it softly to themselves as they as they get ready each morning. He’s got it memorized himself -- the bits about recovering in post-op, make a full recovery, and whatever on the fly timeline they give for access back to the room.

“But he’s-- He’s okay? He’s--”

Jack feels impossibly childish. Five years old and Emily’s chilled fingers brushing his tears away, “baby, I know you miss your mommy. But you’re being so terribly mean to your daddy.” He had been, a terrible little monster squirming away from his father and refusing to eat anything. Throwing tantrums about nothing and everything. Screaming and crawling under his bed every chance he got. Pushing himself to the wall knowing he couldn’t be reached.

Now he can remember Hotch just sitting at the edge of the bed. There on the floor for hours. Sometimes he read, would pick up a book, and just start from wherever just to make it so his voice was reaching where he couldn’t. He slept there too, on the hard ground just to make sure Jack knew he was there. Slipped strawberry pop tarts on crazily designed animal plated under there, offered bites of his own food to the darkness under the bed. Sippy cups full of chocolate milk and juice.

He feels like a little boy again, getting news that he has no idea how to handle.

“He’s okay?” Jack stammers. “He’s going to be okay? I can see him?”

Hotch remembers those days under the bed too. Waking up in the middle of the night as Jack groggily curled close to him, still under the bed but crawling under his blanket. The ends of those awful sobs, Jack’s little chest jerking as he hiccuped. The force of his sorrow was too much for his little body. And Jack would fall into his lap, exhausted and needing comfort. His little fingers tracing the scars on Hotch’s face. How he whispered “thank you” and “please” from underneath the bed and how he’d pop his head out to say, “Daddy, I’m going to potty. I’ll be right back.”

Jack’s legally old enough to drink now and Hotch still sees that little boy. The three-year-old wiping his snot on Hotch’s dress shirt. The six-year-old holding his hand and reminding him to look both ways twice before crossing the street. The eight-year-old he left the hallway light on for, old enough now to think he needed to brave the night without a nightlight. So Hotch would offer to keep the hallway light on, not for Jack but for him because he doesn’t like the dark. The ten-year-old sheepishly offering him a father’s day gift he bought with saved allowance, a t-shirt he’s now worn the words off of. The fifteen-year-old curling up beside him on the couch, seeking his comfort but not sure how to ask anymore. The eighteen-year-old as tall as him talking his ear off while he tries to get dinner ready, sticking his fingers in the pan and sitting on the counter.

How did he grow up so fast?

He’s not a little boy anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.

The creaking of a chair moves Hotch’s attention and he looks away from Jack. Away from the sight of his little boy curled up on a cot, drooling onto a pillow and notebook still open, a pen dangling from his fingers. He looks over and Emily’s sitting up, her reading glasses precariously sat on the tip of her nose. “Oh look,” she mumbles. She stretches out, groaning as her joints complain from being held in this miserable hospital chair for hours. “You’ve decided to join the land of the living.”

Hotch watches her fold the thin black frames of her glasses up, gently sits them down by his hand as she stands up. Jack had called her, even though he promised he wouldn’t worry anyone. Hotch didn’t want anyone else coming to the hospital over something so small and though Jack protested that their concern wouldn’t be because he was bothering them but because they love him. The very same reason he’d come home is that people gather after these sorts of things. They need reassurance that he’s alive and he’s just going to have to accept that. They compromised in the end, everyone could come to smother him in worry after he got home from the surgery.

But Jack was scared. He called the only person he could think to, the woman whose role in his life that was never really clear. She’d gotten on him about his grades, smacked the back of his head when he said something stupid, and always let him taste-test her wine at Thanksgiving dinner. Emily knew things that not even Jessica knew and she could be sterner than both Hotch and Jessica and also more relaxed, more understanding. She was always there for both of them, in the same capacity as Jessica and yet her own unique one. A friend Hotch trusted and loved and Jack could understand that. His friends always wanted to know if they were dating and he knew intuitively that the answer was no but he would hesitate to try and explain. But he didn’t understand the gravity that pulled them together, adults and their relationships far too complex to fit it into his simple understanding of love.

He did understand she was the only person to call.

“What’d he do this time?” she asked and knew she was playing the wrong role for the wrong Hotchner because no sooner than she could ask she had an armful of Jack. She sat with Jack for hours, let him get his fear out. Held him while he sobbed, felt pulled to the past. When it was Aaron on her shoulder, terrified he’d lose his son. Life has this very odd way of bringing everything full circle.

“I bet you’re hurting.” Emily moves to the table and pours water into the little paper Dixie cup left by the nurses. “Been right dramatic this afternoon,” she informs him, a dissatisfied matter-of-fact tone in play. “I know you find that to be particularly taxing.” She holds the cup for him, gentle despite her annoyance. She’s close enough to see the iodine on his skin. Dark orange swipes across his pale skin, the smell burns with its strength.

He pulls greedily from the cup, mouth impossibly dry. Stopped only by how little she poured, he sinks back heavily into the pillows behind him. His shoulder hot and angry from forcing himself upright.

“They’re going to let you go in the morning,” she says, sitting back down. He won’t remember this in the morning. Emily holding his hand, whispering thickly how angry she is with him as tears fall down her face. How scared she was getting that phone call from Jack, racing down here to be a composed person to comfort his son thinking her best friend was in the morgue.

He’ll wake up with a pit in his stomach, residual feelings from the night before he can’t tie down to memories. Emily shows no inclination to repeat herself, just coldly informs him that she’ll have Penelope make him a cardiologist appointment (it’s unspoken that no one trusts him to do this himself). Jack walks on glass, close by but terrified of being pushed away. Hotch is too out of it to put up much of a fight, by the time the morning shift has their hands on him he’s silent. Properly dosed up for a ride home and out of his mind.

He’s groggily propped up on pillows, watching Jack and Emily fight over if he has the right to wear shoes or not. Emily wants to hold them captive, he won’t run off or refuse the wheelchair without them and Jack shakes his head, “he’s not our P.O.W, Emily. He’s even going to get that far if he does try to run.” He’s given his shoes but Emily makes a point to collect his cane, holds it while the nurse helps him into the wheelchair. He’s a flight-risk and she’s not going to trust him, he’s run off on her too many times for that.

At the house the other’s have gathered up, having nothing better to do evidently on a Wednesday at ten in the morning. Penelope’s frying eggs and bacon, the carnage it takes to feed their brood spread out on his kitchen counter. Reid sitting on the counter, Hank in his lap, and the two of them watching Penelope. Derek’s on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and Savannah learning on his shoulder. Dave’s getting orange juice from the store declared them all lawless, and didn’t trust them to get the right kind.

Hotch is granted his cane to get back inside the house but Emily threatens to kick it out from underneath if he tries anything fast. He smacks her ankle and Jack has to actually step between them to keep them apart. It’s in times like these where Jack finds himself wondering how these two ever had any role in raising him at all.

“Don’t you have jobs?” Hotch asks, hooking his cane over the coat rack and toeing his shoes off. He ignores the hand Emily places on his arm, afraid he’ll knock himself over. He manages just fine, has the whole house set up so that every other step is within arms distance of something to lean on. Fingers trailing the back of the couch he limps past Derek, smiling when Savannah offers a soft “glad you’re okay”. She pats his hand and he nods back.

“Up for some food, sir?” Penelope asks and she’s not taking no for an answer. They might be having heaping servings of eggs and bacon and gravy and orange juice but she’s made two small bowls of oatmeal. She takes the medicine Jack tosses up on the counter, puts it at the end where the rest of his medication sits. “I cut up apples,” she tells Hotch with a wide grin, sliding the bowl in front of him. “Dashed a little cinnamon and sugar in there, it’ll stick to your bones. Keep you healthy.”

He’s at a healthy weight at the moment, not as thin as he leans to when he’s sick but with Hotch, it’s always a good thing to have some collateral weight for the “in case”. Lifting the spoon in his left hand he scoops some of the oatmeal up, doing his best to hide his annoyance at how weak his extremities still are. How his hand shakes under the light strain of the oatmeal. He looks up, watches Spencer carry Hank over to the highchair sitting at the table beside him. He’s distracted so Emily swoops in, takes his spoon from his hand, and tries his oatmeal. He lets her do it. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She likes it. He nods, it’s pretty good.

Hank immediately knocks his spoon on the ground and makes a low whining sound in the back of his throat. “Hop help,” he whines, pointing down at his spoon. His speech is still developing so he pronounces help and hop nearly identically but Hotch understands the difference. He just can’t bend over like that. His right arm is still pinned to his chest in an intricate web of gauze and this sling.

“Reid,” Hotch calls. His voice is deep, strained from intubation and anesthesia. It makes him sound sick. “He’s dropped his spoon.”

Reid nods, he already knows.

Hank points to his shoulder and frowns, “Hop fall down?”

Hotch nods, that is pretty much what happened and at the same time, Emily sweeps in and tickles Hank. She presses kisses to his face and making him laugh loudly. “That’s what happens,” she says. “Hops is just old.” Hank is too distracted by the ongoing attack to defend Hotch not that a toddler rising to his defense is very helpful.

Hotch sighs as Jack comes up behind him, stealing his spoon too. He takes a bite of the oatmeal and deems it nearly as good as the kind that Jessica makes. Hotch wants to be annoyed by it and yet all he does is nod and finds himself smirking just a little.

Penelope calls everyone in for breakfast and Hotch ignores the kisses pressed to his cheek as people drag chairs to the table around him. To the hands that slide over his back, assurance of life he remembers Jack calling it.

Derek slides him a mug of tea, made exactly how he likes it. He sits across from Hotch, close to Hank in case either needs assistance. Emily sits to his left, slides her coffee up beside his tea so he can have some if he’s quick about it. Jack sits beside her and the rest is a blur, too much motion at once for him to take in without his contacts or glasses. Penelope slides a tea plate to him, his medicine on it, and kisses his head while he’s still scowling at the plate.

They don’t leave him alone all day.

He ends up taking a nap with Hank, the toddler’s sticky little fingers holding onto his shirt as he finds himself unable to fight off the effects of the medicine and his full stomach.

He’s squished on the couch between Derek and Dave, forced to watch baseball because he can’t worm his way upright again just yet.

They change the dressings on his shoulder, his teeth clenched tightly so that he doesn’t let anything slip.

At midnight he wakes up on the couch. Jack’s bedroom door is shut, he’s sleeping peacefully inside. His heating blanket is pulled up to his chin, the heat turned up all the way. He can’t remember getting into this state himself but he has a fate memory of JJ helping him move his hand to his mouth, encouraging him to take the pain killers before bed. Of Derek making sure he didn’t just fall straight over onto his side. He manages to find Dave stretched out on the Lazyboy -- the chair he got Hotch for his fifty-something birthday. He’ll wake up in the morning to more food being made in his lonely kitchen, JJ this time. She’ll make blueberry waffles.

If he’d wanted attention, Emily will tease the next morning, he could have just asked. And he didn’t even know he wanted this. He never finds the words to ask for it to continue but every Saturday morning it happens anyway -- his kitchen and living room full of pajamas and suits in varying degrees depending on who has what to do that morning. The fainting thing is not cool but he considers this to be a good trade.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #savannah hayes #hank morgan #jack hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #penelope garcia #spencer reid #jennifer jareau

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

risks ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “Hi! Do you take requests?? If you do, can I please request a Spencer x Reader (Including the BAU), where they are dating and the reader is a year or so younger than spencer, but just as smart and very loved by the team, and one day she has to save the team from an unsub and gets really hurt and after everyone is safe they are all really worried about her?? Idk if that made sense at all. Love you work!” 2898 words

a/n: do i know anything about bombs or surgery or post-op procedures? No. did i still have a lot of fun writing this? Yes . i hope you like it! this specific request has been sent to multiple fic writers which i didn’t know until i’d already written and posted BUT the good thing is every writer is different so every request will be approached differently

masterlist

“No.”

“Hotch-“

“I said, no.”

“My girlfriend is stuck in there with a psychopath, Hotch! I can’t leave her in there!”

“I know, Reid. But I need you out here, alive, rather in there, dead.”

Spencer glares, “She could be dead in there for all we know.”

Emily winces from behind Spencer. Hotch stands, hands on hips, trying to think logically despite the situation, “We can’t afford to think like that.”

“He has a bomb! He-he-“

“Reid.” Hotch says, tone authoritive to show he’s playing unit chief and not old friend Hotch, “I need your head in this. We need to profile him to figure out the best way to negotiate – we can’t do that if you keep threatening to act irrationally.”

Spencer scoffs. Derek steps forward and pulls Spencer aside to talk him down from the metaphorical ledge he’s standing on. He’s one second away from running right into that abandoned building that everyone had just evacuated, bar you, and straight into the arms of the man who now has you hostage with a bomb ready to be detonated whenever he pleases.

Hotch already tried calling and negotiating. The man scoffed, voice gruff, and rumbled, “Either I get what I want, or both me and the pretty agent are getting blown to bits.”

In hindsight, they should’ve been more prepared.

Storming the abandoned warehouse, the team expected to find the remnants of a crime scene – they profiled the warehouse was the base of operations for the unsub, a place for him to store all his supplies, and because it had made the news that the FBI were on the case, they assumed he would’ve started running the second he felt them closing in.

He didn’t. He’s ready to go down with his ship, and you’re the unfortunate one that found him. And his homemade bomb.

Derek found the bomb-making equipment. He shouted in his comm for everyone to evacuate, and Spencer realised the second he stepped outside that you were not there. And you hadn’t responded to any calls after stepping into the building.

All it took was one call from the too proud unsub for them to realise your life is in the balance and for Reid to stop thinking rationally.

Spencer should’ve gone with you. He knows you can handle yourself, you’ve saved his ass enough times, but if he’d just.. followed you instead of JJ. Maybe you’d both be in there, or, even better, out here. Alive. Safe. No hostage situation in sight.

Suddenly, several shots ring out.

The team ducks behind their SUVs, Hotch having to drag Spencer down when he doesn’t react, just in case he decides to run straight in.

“It wasn’t the bomb!” Derek calls across, their heads beginning to pop up from behind the vehicles.

Spencer breaks free from Hotch’s grip and sprints into the warehouse. Bomb be damned, there were exactly six shots fired – the exact amount you have in your revolver.

Also the exact amount he has in his revolver.

“Go! Go!” Hotch shouts. The team all charge after Spencer, separating and flowing through the hallways and doorways of the warehouse – there’s this sense of dread running through all of them. There’s something so unique to the panic you feel when someone so close to you, someone so dear, is the one in danger.

There’s a screech from the back of the warehouse. It’s filled with agony, anguish and unadulterated pain – loud enough to reach every nook and cranny of the premises.

“I need a medic!”

Spencer’s throat burns from the tormented yell that leaped from his throat when he found you. There’s so much blood, and it takes Spencer longer than it should to find where your wounds are: two shots to the stomach, one too close to your lungs for comfort.

Although, none of this is comforting. Your eyes are closed.

The unsub is dead. The team looks around the room and easily pieces everything together: you both shot at the same time. You were able to give fatal hits and Spencer refuses to let the hits you got become deadly too.

They spare little to no attention to the bomb – the bomb squad stampede in and analyse it. Their focus is you, if you’re breathing and if the blood has stopped and how weak your pulse is.

It’s too weak. Spencer chokes on a sob above your body.

“Spence, you gotta move,” Derek’s voice is gentle despite the chaos around them, two medics taking Spencer’s place when Derek pulls him away.

“She-she- I can’t-“

“I know, kid, I know. We have to let them take care of her.”

The team is frozen around you as a stretcher is brought it. You’re being given oxygen, the medics are frantically shouting all kinds of things that Spencer doesn’t register – he follows behind you, shoulders slumped and cheeks wet, scanning you from head to toe constantly to see some display of life within you.

Hotch tells him to ride with you to the hospital. He doesn’t bother sparing the team a glance – he needs to keep his eyes on you because if he doesn’t he’s terrified you’ll disappear and he’ll never see you again and never hear your voice and never get to hear you say “I love you” ever again.

He’s terrified.

+++

You’ve been in surgery for hours.

Spencer’s still covered in your blood. He sits next to Derek, who just force-fed him half a granola bar, leg bouncing while he bites his nails.

The whole team is waiting impatiently. Hotch hasn’t sat down once, JJ has been on the phone to Will and Henry several times so she doesn’t go crazy, and everyone has been taking laps around the hospital to burn off some… fear? Apprehension? Just to do something?

Penelope broke several driving laws to get here. She came in, makeup smeared all over her face and hiccupping as Derek caught her when she approached them and collapsed. It took her an hour and a half to calm down.

“Reid.”

Spencer doesn’t move.

“Reid, kid.”

Derek nudges him. He looks up, lips chapped and bitten raw, and looks at Rossi who holds his to-go bag.

“You should change.” Rossi says, a warm smile on his face as he speaks quietly.

Spencer stares at the bag, then his shirt and sweater vest. He nearly vomits – your blood is everywhere. It’s dried now, a testament to how long you’ve been on that table, and he feels himself getting choked up all over again. He wishes he could help you. He wishes this wasn’t happening.

The guilt sinks in.

If he’d stayed with you. If he’d followed you. If he’d found you a little earlier. If they’d realised who the unsub was quicker. If they’d come to the warehouse more prepared.

Maybe you’d be here. Maybe it would be him on the operating table. God, he wishes it was him.

He needs you alive. He needs you.

“C’mon, Spence,” JJ whispers. She can’t speak any louder or she’ll cry. She takes the bag from Rossi, gingerly takes Spencer’s hand and pulls him towards the toilet just a little way away.

She opens the door and holds it open for him, gesturing with her head for him to go in.

“It’ll take you five minutes. I’ll be right here.”

He sniffles and nods, a tear sliding down his cheek, and heads in.

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they hear the lock of the door.

Spencer hasn’t moved since he got to the hospital and you were hurried away straight into surgery. Your eyes opened in the ambulance and Spencer could only cry harder – you used every last bit of strength you had to grip Spencer’s hand and passed out again.

He hasn’t spoken, either. No one can blame him. But changing clothes, cleaning your blood from his hands and forearms and it’s somehow on his neck, that’s progress. It’s about as good as they’ll get until there’s an update on you.

Spencer slumps back out of the toilet, walking clumsily towards his friends with his head facing the floor. The room is too bright, his eyes are beginning to sting from crying, and his heart is hurting because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. All of it is giving him a headache.

You know how to help him with his headaches. You always know how to help him. You.

There’s movement from the large doors next to Spencer. A doctor comes out, looking frazzled and still in scrubs, and says, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

They all stare.

“She’s stable.”

Penelope lets out a verbal gasp and a “Thank God,”, both Emily and JJ’s heads fall in their hands in disbelief and even Hotch’s head falls back as he lets out a sigh of relief.

Derek’s hand grips Spencer’s shoulder. He’s too shocked to say anything.

“Can we see her?” Derek asks. He knows Spencer will want to see her the second he can, and he’ll spend every moment with her until she’s fully healed.

The doctor gives a pitiful grimace, “Only one at a time, unfortunately. These next twenty-four hours are vital and we don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“I have to see her.” Comes Spencer’s voice, weak and fragile as he still chews his thumb.

Hotch nods, “Of course. Spencer, you stay with her and we’ll come back later.”

He then nods towards the rest of the team and they all filter out slowly, all acknowledging Spencer in one way or another – Penelope kisses his head, Derek and Rossi give his shoulder a squeeze, JJ, Emily and Hotch tell him to text them if he needs anything.

He knows they don’t want to leave, but Spencer would fight every single one of them if any even tried to see you before he could. He needs to see you for himself. Needs to see you breathe.

“Follow me, sir,” The doctor says, “She might look a little off-putting – she had more injuries than we thought. But she’s steady and strong, so we’re confident she’ll make it through.”

She gestures towards your room. Spencer nods and gives a tight lipped smile, mumbling, “Thank you.”

When the door’s pushed open, Spencer chokes on a cry.

He remembers the only time he was shot: that one time in the leg. It wasn’t much. It was a shock to the system, but ultimately he was fine. He’s come to love the scar thanks to you - you’ve placed plenty of kisses on it for him to see it and instantly think of you and the love you bring.

Which is exactly why he can’t lose you. He loves you too much and he knows you love him and he’s never been so sure of anything or anyone in his life until you and he swears to God if you’re taken from him-

He takes a deep breath, pulling the chair towards your bed as close as possible as he moves to interlock his fingers with yours and grip tightly.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

+++

Penelope is the first to visit. She waddles in, flowers, chocolates, a card, a cuddly bear and some food for the good doctor in her arms. When she walks in she realises Spencer is knocked out in the chair next to you. She’s not surprised; she didn’t want to leave you, but Spencer needed to be with you.

She pokes him gently. And again, when he doesn’t respond.

He jumps awake, immediately going to rub his neck that is stiff after spending hours at an awkward angle.

“Morning, handsome,” Penelope smiles. She hands him the food she brought and, after sparing a glance to your sleeping form, he takes the bag and digs in.

“Thank you,” He says quietly. Penelope looks at you.

“How is she?”

“Not bad. She hasn’t gotten worse, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Penelope leans over and presses a kiss to your head, “She’s a boss. She’ll be up and at it before you know it.”

Spencer pauses in his eating and watches you, feeling nothing but love and pride, and his lower lip began to quiver. He clears his throat and looks away.

His eyes have been rubbed raw from Spencer trying to stop his tears and from trying to stay awake all night, just in case you woke up. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep.

Derek appears then.

“Hey, you two,” He’s also carrying flowers and a cuddly bear (the team knows you so well – the way to your heart is stereotypical gifts). He gives Penelope a side hug and shoots Spencer a nod, “How you feeling, pretty boy?”

He rubs his eyes, “I’m awesome.”

Derek chuckles, “Uhuh.”

He looks at you, then, and his smile becomes tighter. Penelope grips his arm and tugs him towards her, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“You two look cosy.”

All attention is snapped to you: half lidded, voice coarse, lips dry. Spencer drops the bag of food.

“Hi, pretty,” He grins, eyes filling with tears again when he stands and leans towards you on your bed. God, what do you do to him?

His forehead rests against yours and you close your eyes in comfort. His smell fills you, all familiar and oh so welcome after whatever the hell you went through. Your whole body aches, breathing feels strange and almost unknown, and you’re acutely aware of the tubes in your nose.

Spencer pulls back suddenly, eyes jerking open, and grabs some water for you, “Here, drink.”

You do as he says, gulping it down and gulping down a second and third cup.

“I’ll get the nurse,” Penelope says, having to tear her eyes away from you because you’re awake and it fills her with so much happiness to see you okay.

After a quick visit from the nurse, you’re told you have to stay for a further few days and you pout at the thought. No one likes hospitals. No one likes being stuck in a hospital.

The whole team arrives and Derek and Penelope offer to go meet them to catch them up on everything before they come in. Everyone knows it’s really so you and Spencer have a second alone.

The second the door closes, Spencer kisses you. It’s eager and full of angst. You wish you could wrap your arms around him and pull him in tight, but everything hurts. So that’ll have to wait.

“You had me so worried,” Spencer gasps, forehead against yours and hands cupping your face, “So, so worried.”

“My apologies,” You giggle. It hurts to do it, but Spencer makes you so happy, even in a dreary hospital. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” He smiles. He feels like all the tension has evaporated from his body - you’re here, you’re okay, you’re awake, you’re as perfect as ever. “You had everyone scared.”

“I have fans?”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at you. You just woke up from being shot and going through a long surgery, and you’re joking around?

He loves you so much.

Your arm slowly moves up to loosely hold his wrist. Your eyes look glassy, suddenly.

“I love you, Spence.” You breathe, “My first thought when I got shot was I’d never be able to say that to you again. I love you so, so much.”

Spencer grips your face tighter and pulls your lips back to his. There’s so much passion in the kiss; he wants to tell you he loves you every second of every day for the rest of his life, and he’s trying to show that.

Now you’re here, he can do that. Thank God he can do that.

“I love you too. So much. I’ve never been as scared as I was when I found you, I-“ He gets choked up again, “If you ever do something like that again, we will have issues I swear to God Y/N-“

“Kiss me again you idiot,” You say, all smiles.

When the whole team roll in, Spencer is perched on the very edge of your bed, hand in yours, thumb rubbing back and forth. They all smile at you, holding various gifts that get you very excited, and tell you how glad they are you’re okay.

Derek’s brows furrow, pointing at your heart monitor, “Now what happened while we were gone, cuties?”

Everyone looks towards the monitor, where your heartbeat is still high from kissing and being close to Spencer after being scared you’d never be able to again.

You and Spencer blush, “I’m just very happy to see my team.” You say, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek smirks at you both, “Just couldn’t keep your hands off eachother, huh?”

Spencer sputters, “It would be so inappropriate to do anything like that in a hospital, Morgan! Actually, hospitals…”

As Spencer rambles on, you scan the room and find yourself tearing up. You feel so cared for and loved, surrounded by the people you consider family and holding the hand of the love of your life. You’re so lucky, you realise, despite the situation that led to this, to have such amazing people so close.

You move and lean your head against Spencer’s shoulder and, mid-sentence, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

It’s an honour to be so loved by such lovely people.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #mine #god does this suck?#man i feel like it sucks

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stitch1830 · 3 years

Text

Reassurance

Happy Kantoph Mondangst! These titles may be getting worse, but hopefully the chapters aren't... time will tell ope. Despite the angst, I hope you enjoy :)

......

“Are you up?”

His form shifted in the bed as he lazily turned to face her. She could hear the tiredness in his breath that indicated that no, he wasn’t up, but even if she didn’t perceive that, she would’ve known he was lying when he replied, “Yeah, what’s up?”

A gentle hand rubbed her arm in an attempt to comfort her, and the combination of his casual fib and sleepy gesture of comfort made Toph smile just a bit. But even then, she couldn’t ignore the unsettling feeling that sat in the pit of her stomach and made her toss and turn for the past few nights.

When she didn’t answer right away, he called out again, his tired state wearing off. “Toph? Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” she quickly reassured, but then bit her lip. Technically, things were okay, but she still felt uneasy. “Well, maybe? I don’t know…”

Kanto’s hand instinctively went to her stomach, coincidentally landing precisely where the baby was kicking. His thumb swiped across her belly, calming down the baby’s activity temporarily, and Toph let out a sigh that was a combination of exhaustion and relief and apprehension. Her hand fell on top of his, and she found the words to describe her thoughts. Well, some of them.

“I’m… I’m just worried, I guess,” she confessed.

“About the baby?”

“Yeah. Well, not the baby specifically. I’m worried about me.”

“Are you worried about the pain—”

“No, no. I mean, I’m not looking forward to it, but... fucking spirits,” Toph muttered. She wasn’t exactly describing her fears in the most coherent fashion, and she was losing the courage to admit what was on her mind.

“Toph,” he whispered, and his voice gave her focus. “You can tell me whatever you want, but only if you want to, okay?”

Toph took a deep breath as she calmed her nerves and felt the rhythmic motion of his thumb across her stomach. He grounded her like the earth, his touch and voice never failed to bring her back to reality. And everyday she thanked the spirits or whoever she needed to thank that fate brought them together.

Courage and actual words found her once again, and she pressed her forehead to his and confessed her fear. “I’m still worried about being a mom.”

Kanto said nothing, but waited for Toph to continue, so she did. “I know we’ve talked about this, but the baby is due any day now, and I just… I still feel like I’m not ready for this. I have no motherly bone in my body, I’ve never even thought about becoming a mother.

“And then the fact that my upbringing was pretty shit? Not the best references. All I know are piss poor parenting techniques.

“And if our kid hates us because of me, I… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His hand moved to wipe away her tears (when did she start crying?), then settled back to her belly, their fingers intertwined this time. He said nothing for a while, and part of Toph cynically thought that perhaps he felt the same way. She prompted him to speak. “Is this your way of saying you agree?” she asked in an attempt to lighten her own mood.

“I wish…” Kanto paused; it was his turn to find the right words. “I wish you could see that you already are an amazing mother.”

Toph blinked, confused. He continued, “Everything you do is for our baby, and even your fears are all because you are worried about their wellbeing and happiness. That tells me everything about the kind of mother you will be. Selfless, thoughtful, loving…

“You could do motherhood in your sleep and by yourself, Toph. That’s how great you’ll be. But you don’t have to do it alone. You’ve got me, and we’ve got your friends.

“I know we won’t be perfect parents, but we have each other to lean on, and if you’re ever worried about anything, I’ll be there.

“And like I’ve told you before, my fatherly intuition says that we’re having a girl that will be just like you, and I couldn’t be more excited about that. I know all your tricks, Chief.”

His teasing remark got a scoff out of Toph, and she removed her hand from his to give him a light shove on the chest. Kanto’s hand captured hers again immediately after, and they laughed as he kissed it.

But everything else that he said, it felt reassuring. Not just in the moment, but as Toph thought through their future as parents, Kanto’s words gave her hope. He was right. Technically, they could be okay parents alone, but together, they would be amazing. And they’d lean on each other not because one would be a better parent than the other and needed help, but they wanted it.

That made all the difference.

Before she could even thank him for talking with her in the middle of the night, he smothered her with kisses all over her face until she was in a fit of laughter. And when she caught her breath, his warm hands found her round belly and so did his lips. He kissed her stomach lightly and spoke to their baby in a mock whispered tone. “Hey baby badgermole, I’ve got a secret for ya.

“Your Mama and I can’t wait to meet you, but there’s something you should know about Mama…

“She’s the Greatest Earthbender in the World, but she’s also the Greatest Mama in the World. She’s always gonna love you and protect you, just like I will.

“I thought you should know how amazing your Mama is before you meet her. And I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you’re gonna be just like her.”

He gave another loving kiss to the baby and hummed a goodnight to them before he made his way back to Toph. Once he settled back in bed, Toph inched her way as close to him as she could, burying her head in his chest and finding comfort in his warm embrace. His chest hummed in content as sleep found them again.

She remembered hearing him whisper right before she soundly slept, filling her with the reassurance that everything would be okay.

“You’re gonna be an amazing mom, Toph. I just know it.”

~~~

“I’m a terrible mother, Zuko.”

The Fire Lord shifted in his seat, startled by the bold statement and waited for an explanation. As he silently stared at her, he took in the beautiful surroundings before their focus turned to the morose topic that lingered over them.

It was a beautiful day in the Fire Nation, one of the first warm days of the season. The Beifongs traveled to the Fire Nation for a bit of a reprieve from Republic City. With the change in season, Zuko and Toph took advantage of the weather by sitting in one of the palace gardens with the children. Zuko watched as Lin clumsily ran around in the grass after Izumi while Kya coaxed the turtleducks to the edge of the pond.

They didn’t have a care in the world, not yet, at least, and Zuko naively hoped they never would.

Toph exhaled deeply, disrupting his observations. “I’m letting her down, I know it.”

Zuko furrowed his eyebrows. “What makes you say that, Toph?”

“I just—” she hesitated. Time made her more closed off, and it always took her a moment longer to admit more feelings.

But Zuko was patient, and he knew if he waited long enough, she’d open up.

Toph took another labored breath. “She’s looking for him. Everywhere we go. She wants him, not me. Which, I get, because I’d want him instead of me, too. If that wasn’t hard enough, everything she does reminds me of him.

“And I can’t stand it. I can barely hold her or take care of her because every other word she says is ‘Dada’ and I nearly break down when he’s mentioned. What kind of mother can’t even take care of her kid without wishing her dead boyfriend was around instead? What does that say about me?!”

He glanced over at Lin, who was crouching down to the ground with her cousins and gently patting the shell of a baby turtleduck. She seemed happy, content. Even if her mother was struggling.

“You’ve just had to deal with a lot right now, no one expects you to be perfect, Toph,” he reassured her. “Lin’s okay, she’ll be okay.”

“She won’t be okay if her mom keeps sulking around like this. Sure, maybe it’s fine now while she’s a baby, but she’s gonna grow up, and she’s gonna think I hate her.”

“No she won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Zuko said nothing, and Toph cynically chuckled. “He said she’d be just like me, but I can only see his traits in her. She’s got his heart, the noises she makes when she sleeps are his, and her hands are his. And I just know she’s gonna have his laugh, and it’s gonna break me.”

“Toph—”

“He said I could do this in my sleep,” she interrupted as she rubbed her eyes. “That I would be a great mom on my own if I had to, but he was wrong.

“He should be here, he’d be better at this than me.”

“Toph,” Zuko began again, “he’s only been gone a year. We’re here to help so you both can heal. Please don’t think you’re alone in this with him gone. You’ve talked with Aang, but have you talked with Katara at all about how you feel? I can interrupt her meeting if—”

“No, your lives shouldn’t change because mine did,” she interrupted.

“Our lives don’t have to change dramatically, but you also shouldn’t think that this is all your weight to carry.”

“But it is,” she insisted, her voice raising with every word she said. “Lin is my kid, I lost my partner, I have to raise her alone, even if I can’t.”

A heavy silence fell between the two friends. All they could hear were the sounds of children giggling and turtleducks quacking.

It pained Zuko to see Toph like this. She was trying to be so strong for Lin, and she was strong. Her ability to persevere was unlike any he had seen. Toph went to work, searched for Kanto’s killer, stayed in touch with her friends and kept them up to date on her feelings, and raised Lin. And she was raising Lin well, amazing even, considering all that they had been through.

He just wished she would see that as well.

But that was a tough sell to convince Toph that she was doing amazing in spite of everything. No matter how many ways he spun it, Zuko’s words didn’t reassure Toph; it seemed that no one’s words of encouragement comforted Toph anymore.

Lin approached Toph, and their conversation ended as abruptly as it began. Zuko watched as Toph picked up Lin without hesitation, a hint of a smile grew as the toddler rambled on about her day with the turtleducks. In between the story, Toph’s head leaned in toward Zuko, and she quietly suggested, “Think it’s time for a snack.”

So they left to grab an afternoon snack, and Zuko’s eyes never strayed from Toph and Lin, not even when Kya and Izumi asked to run ahead. He just couldn’t shake his vision away from them as he saw the adoration Lin had for Toph, and the love and anguish in Toph’s eyes as she listened to her daughter chat. Zuko could visibly see Toph’s strength and perseverance as she walked into the palace, and yet, she remained unconvinced of her capabilities. The Fire Lord sighed, wishing he knew how to help Toph, what to say. But not many could reassure Toph. Well, Kanto did. He knew all the right things to say to calm her, to give her strength.

Who could she lean on for that now that he was gone?

Zuko didn’t know the answer.

#kantoph #toph #toph beifong #kanto #zuko #lin #lin beifong #kya ii #izumi #atla #lok #writing #the long winding road to you #like a boomerang i always come back to you series #the chief and dep series

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moonbeambucky · 4 years

Text

Hey Neighbor (Part 25)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 6423 Warnings: mention of injuries, fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 24 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Time stands still like the eerie calm of the earth before a storm and in less than the blink of an eye things move all at once. The clouds break open with the downpour of your tears, a tornado sends you in a dizzying frenzy to change your clothes, hellish winds are unleashed that blow you across town so quickly you nearly forgot to take your phone with you as you scrambled out of the Uber that raced you to the hospital.

Sam’s call was brief. Bucky was brought into the emergency room by ambulance, fading in and out of consciousness from a car accident. Sam nearly went into shock himself seeing his friend littered in cuts and scrapes. You didn’t have time to ask much else, barely even changing out of your pajamas. You swapped thin bottoms for leggings, quickly grabbed your bra and threw a hoodie over it all, not thinking about how your hair looked or bothering to pick out the crust that just began to take root in the corner of your eyes. You grabbed a bag tossing in your keys and wallet and clutched your phone in hand to run downstairs.

The fluorescent lights are blinding as you enter the hospital, searching for Sam through the chaos of chatter and noise. The beep beep beep of machinery all around you, coughing, crying, moaning wails from people that want help or attention or just a place to sleep off their drunkenness. The ER was a maze you knew every route of but your mind pushed the knowledge out needing more space to panic.

Where is Bucky? Where is Sam?

You remembered the nurses’ station, sprinting towards it and happy to see a familiar face that does not recognize you right away. You didn’t expect Stacie to; you looked quite different when you were not put together in professional clothes and on the verge of bursting into tears and throwing up at the same time.

Together you quickly found Sam, unable to hold back the dam when you saw him and asked about Bucky.

“He went up into surgery.”

“Surgery!?” you cried out. “Is he going to be okay? Sam what happened?”

He let out a long and heavy sigh. The harsh lights above were unkind, showing the depths of the circles under his eyes.

“His leg is broken and he has some internal bleeding but we stabilized him and…”

You knew how hard Sam works, how everyone in this hospital works, getting an up close experience from your time there so you hated to be this person, frantic and begging for answers that he didn’t have.

“Doctor Palmer is an excellent surgeon. I’m gonna call her assistant now to let them know I’m sending you up.”

You nodded, biting your lip and roughly wiping away fresh tears. Sam pulled you into his chest and you felt your knees buckle. Bucky had to make it through surgery, he had to! A heavy sob wracked through you as you thought of the worst. Sam squeezed tighter, wishing he could stay with you upstairs through the surgery. Hell, he’d scrub in himself if they’d let him just so he could say he’s done everything to help his friend through this.

“I’ll be up when I can,” he promised, walking you towards the elevator.

You forced a worried smile. “Thanks Sam. Do you know… did anyone call his parents?”

Sam clenched his jaw as he thought about it. “It was pretty crazy in there, I’m not sure. I could fi–” He was interrupted by someone calling his name and you knew you had taken too much of his time already.

Your stomach dropped as the elevator went up, bringing you to an unfamiliar floor with unfamiliar faces that made you feel like an unwelcome stranger in someone’s home. You let the staff know you were here for James but a by-the-books nurse wasn’t keen on giving you information. Without thinking straight you had stupidly answered no when they asked if you were family, and when you asked if Bucky’s family was called she wouldn’t tell you.

You exhaled a deep, calming sigh, not wanting to yell at the person that was just doing their job, but as you sink into the uncomfortable chair you can’t help but silently cry to yourself. This woman doesn’t know how badly you need to know if Bucky’s okay. She doesn’t know that you spent the last few months ignoring him and wishing you could take it all back. She doesn’t know how much you miss him, how you love him. Even though he broke your heart you couldn’t help yourself from gluing the pieces back together and you needed to tell him, maybe you couldn’t tell him the truth but Bucky needed to at least know that you didn’t hate him.

The clock ticks away slowly and no one has come to speak with you. You stare at Winifred’s profile. She hasn’t updated her status since late in the afternoon. Does she know? Did anyone call them?

You decide they need to know, they need to be here just in case. A wave of nausea rolls over you at the thought and suddenly you become dizzy in your seat. You’re hot, sweating in the hoodie and yet you push on. Shaky fingers google his parent’s names and hometown in the hopes they are listed. You find a number, hesitant to call at this late of an hour. Rebecca was a few hours behind, and you debated messaging them in hopes of a fast reply. Should you do that? Should you be doing this at all?

Fuck.

If you had some answers you could at least feel a little better about all of this. You messaged Rebecca on Instagram telling them what happened and leaving your number. Your cheeks burn like lava as you rest your palm against them, dialing the number that google provided which may or may not be correct.

The phone rings and rings, and with each unanswered ring your stomach twists a little tighter. Relief comes but only slightly by way of Winnie’s bubbly voice prompting you to leave a message. Your voice shakes as you do, letting out a strangled cry as you leave them the limited details you knew about Bucky. Are they sleeping?

It doesn’t take long before your screen lights up with a number you don’t recognize and you were relieved to hear Winnie’s voice. Someone did call her and George, and they were on their way to the hospital.

“Rebecca sent me your number. I’m so happy you’re there. We’ll see you soon sweetheart,” she said, with sobs in her voice.

After hanging up you saw a message from Rebecca repeating what you already knew. They asked if it was okay to call you and you were thankful for the distraction. Together you tried to comfort each other, worrying about Bucky making it through surgery, about their parents driving with little sleep and so much on their minds.

“They’re here,” you said spotting George first from down the hallway, “I’ll call you back.”

It had been at least a half hour since their call and getting up from the chair was slow, your body ached from sitting for too long but you didn’t care. George and Winnie wrapped you in their arms, tears flowing as you embraced. The tears poured a little harder as you gripped them tightly, realizing how nice it was to see them again but wishing desperately it was under different circumstances.

George withdrew first, going up to the desk to let them know he was there. Winnie cupped your face softly, her hands were cold but it felt good against the heat of your skin. The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile that released more tears down her reddened cheeks, her eyes already swollen and full of spidery veins.

Together you waited. Talking, pacing, crying, waiting, waiting, waiting until a short woman in green scrubs called out for the Barnes family. The three of you jump up and you feel immediately sick, holding on to Winnie’s arm as you try to read the expression of the woman before she said anything.

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes my name is Doctor Palmer, I was the surgeon who worked on your son James.”

Winnie held your hand a little tighter, squeezing as every second went by until Dr. Palmer said he was stable and in recovery.

“He came in with blunt force trauma from a crash. He fractured two ribs and there was some internal bleeding from his spleen which we were able to repair with arterial embolization. However, James had a severe compound fracture of the tibia. We debrided the area and secured the bone with plates and screws. James is in the post op recovery room and he’s awake but not fully lucid.”

A collective sigh of relief filled the waiting room, with mixed tears of happiness flowing freely again. The doctor said a nurse would come by to bring you in to see him shortly and you couldn’t wait. You didn’t know what you would say to Bucky or if he would even be alert enough to hear you but you knew it was time to let him know that the past is in the past and you want to move forward.

A beat fills the room, steady like a metronome to keep the rhythm but the sound is unfamiliar. Too soft for the drums, not high enough for strings. Quick, simple. Piano? No. The sound isn’t broad enough. Keyboard? Yes. Electric, synthy. But it still sounds wrong.

Bucky tries to open his eyes but his lids are too heavy, bolted down by invisible chains. He sees the light of the sun through them. He tries to lift his arm to shut the blinds but even they are too sluggish to move, heavy like they were coated in cement.

He feels the scratch of a rough blanket against his skin, vague thoughts cross his tired mind wondering the whereabouts of his comforter. His toes are cold, feeling like tiny icicles are hanging off them. His right foot drags against the mattress. Was it always this uncomfortable? It’s his left foot that isn’t covered, a sock that probably came off in the night.

In a state of half sleep Bucky tries to wiggle the icicles off and suddenly his whole body feels like it’s been set ablaze. The beat quickens. A terrible pain fires through every nerve. There’s a sharp sensation in his hand when he tries to move it making him wince. His left side has a dull stabbing ache that increases as he takes a deep breath. Bucky feels sore all over like he was just hit by a–

And then he remembers.

His breaths are shallow, the tempo moving rapidly like the hook of an EDM song about to drop the beat as Bucky replayed the scene like a movie. He left the premier’s after party in an Uber never expecting the violent jolt of an SUV t-boning the car into a traffic pole. Everything after was a blur. There were flashing lights, noise, a steady bright light, an angel with the face of Y/N.

Bucky’s eyes fly open in state panic as he looks around wildly at his surroundings. His leg is in a cast, elevated by a sling. Needles in his arm, tubes around his nose, wires everywhere. He felt like a mess, he could only imagine he looked even worse but then all of his worries fade away when he sees Y/N, the angel at his side.

You’re asleep on the chair, elbow propped up on the wooden arm with your head leaning against your palm. It’s not comfortable at all but you didn’t complain, it wasn’t important. It was nearly five in the morning when Bucky was moved to a room. The walls were a dreadful sage green that looked more like dirty money in the dim light of dawn. The room was small but the lack of a second bed for the time being made things seem a little larger.

George went off in search of a third chair for the room as you and Winnie pulled yours up close to Bucky, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Sam came up to visit after his shift ended, introducing himself to Bucky’s parents. The tackling hug Winnie gave him was unexpected by his sleep deprived body but he accepted it all the same, giving her a reassuring hug that everything would be okay. Before he left you whispered a thank you in Sam’s ear, for treating Bucky and giving you a call. You promised to keep him updated as told him to get some rest, he certainly deserved it.

Bucky slept peacefully as you watched over him, your head falling forward and jolting you awake every time you had begun to fall asleep. Winnie had already fallen asleep but you were fighting against your body’s needs. You stared longingly at Bucky, wanting to be awake in case he woke up. George put a gentle hand on your shoulder, nodding with silent permission that it was okay to shut your eyes. A large black cup of coffee aided him in keeping watch and so you blinked slowly, your lids growing heavier with every languid motion until they remained shut for the next few hours. It wasn’t until the sound of rapid beeps that you were alerted into consciousness again.

Your head whipped up quickly with concern at the sound that slowly began to steady, finding Bucky awake with an ever so slight tug of a smile on his lips that grew once you locked eyes. It had been far too long since you looked at Bucky, truly looked at him without anger and heartache clouding your vision.

The scrapes and bruises that littered his face did not hinder any part of his handsomeness. His lips were dull and slightly chapped and yet it didn’t stop you from wanting to press yours against them. You lifted your eyes towards his, feeling blessed to be able to stare at the most beautiful shade of blue once more. They glistened with unshed tears as Bucky gazed back at you.

Your own tears came instantly, falling down the curves of your smile as you leaned over him. Your name fell softly from his lips and hesitantly you lifted your hand, wanting to reach out and caress his face. You pulled it back, dropping your head for a moment, squeezing tears out of your tightly shut eyes. Bucky was a blur when you opened them again but he was there, he was alive and you were more than thankful.

“Hey neighbor,” you sniffled. “It’s good to see you.”

No longer caring if you should or shouldn’t touch his face, you wanted to. Your thumb gently grazed the delicate skin of his cheek, early stubble scratching lightly as you brushed against it.

Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling him smile against your palm. “It’s good to see you too.” His voice was strained, still dry from surgery.

You took Bucky’s hand in your own, careful of the IV sticking out. He asked what happened, knowing he was in an accident but unsure of the details afterwards. It was obvious his leg was broken but you told him the specifics– the emergency surgery to fix his break and stop his internal bleeding, how Sam had treated him when he came into the ER. He smiled at that.

“You broke a few ribs too.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “So that’s why it hurts to breathe.”

Your lips pulled tightly across your face, wishing you could take the pain away from him. The tension released when you felt Bucky squeezing your hand as if he heard your thoughts, offering you comfort when he was the one that really needed it.

“Oh, your parents are here,” you remembered, though you looked around, unsure of where they went. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to contact Claire.” The shock of Bucky’s accident made you forget to text all your friends until the early morning.

His face twists with confusion. “Claire?” Did you really not know? “Claire and I have been broken up for months.”

Your lips move without sound as you try to process what he said. You didn’t know what to say, wondering if Bucky hid his breakup as you had yours. Now you didn’t feel as guilty holding on to the feelings in your heart. You’re about to blurt out the words, to tell Bucky what you couldn’t say back to Peter but the sound of Winnie calling his name stopped you and you turned to see her running up to his bed.

“James, you’re awake. We were so worried,” she cried in his ear, contorting herself around machines while being mindful of Bucky’s injuries.

George walked in with a cup of coffee for you and you thanked him, getting up so he could get closer to Bucky. The warm brew felt good going down even though it wasn’t the best, forgetting to warn them about the cafeteria’s lack of quality. Good thing you weren’t relying on this to keep you awake, not since Bucky shocked every cell of your body into full alertness with his news. Though you were happy to learn he broke up with Claire it still didn’t mean what you wanted it to and you were thankful you hadn’t scared him off with an “I love you.”

Pulling out your phone you saw a text from Wanda, featuring a block of caps locked screaming with question marks and sad emojis. You typed back an update about Bucky, looking over at him with his parents and back down again to the message that was still in the process of sending. It took a few minutes before the message decided not to go through at all.

You excused yourself, letting everyone know you were going to update all your friends about how Bucky was doing. George commented on the terrible service in the room so at least it wasn’t just your phone. You probably could have stood on a chair trying to force better service somehow in different parts of the room but you also wanted to give Bucky and his parents an opportunity for privacy.

“I’ll be right back,” you said with a smile, passing a woman coming in with flowers for the person who had been brought into the other side of the room early in the morning. Your gaze lingered back at Bucky one final time before leaving.

George shared a look with Winnie and staring at her son she said, “Y/N was here all night you know...”

With your phone in hand you follow it like it’s a map with five full bars leading you to treasure. It only took walking around the whole floor to find a good spot on the opposite side of the building near a window for your text to go through. In between sips of coffee you recorded a message for everyone on the group chat, it was so much easier than typing it out and you were still very tired.

You decided to finish your coffee there, giving Bucky and his parents more time as you stared out the window at what looked like a bright and beautiful morning. A slew of notifications came on your phone as half the people responded. Clint was probably still sleeping but Natasha replied asking if Bucky needs anything. Though Peggy was in England she asked if there was anything she could do. Steve wondered if he wanted visitors and asked you to pass along his get well wishes. You typed back that you would find out, promising to keep in touch as the day went on.

When your cup was empty you tossed it into a nearby garbage can and headed back, not expecting to hear your name being called.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You turned to see Elena, concern etched on her face as she held onto your shoulder. Embarrassment washed over you as you remembered how you looked, feeling even worse when you realized that earlier in the week Elena was technically your boss.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay. A friend of mine came in last night, car accident. I’ve…” you took a moment to yawn, covering your mouth, “Excuse me, I’ve been here all night.” You slapped your face lightly to wake up, now wishing the coffee had been stronger. “He’s going to be okay though,” you finished.

“He? Is this Bucky?” she wondered, and you were surprised she recalled his name since the wedding was months ago. You sighed, nodding slowly as your lips pulled into a soft smile. “I hope everything works out.”

Elena hugged you before she turned around to see a patient, reminding you she was here if you needed her. It was really nice to know she was there for you, Elena had become more than a mentor in the time you’ve worked for her.

Heading back in the room you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face when you saw Bucky. The few minutes apart you spent were more than you ever wanted to do again. George moved down a seat so you could sit closer to Bucky, letting him know everyone was asking about him, wondering if he wanted visitors.

Bucky sought your hand again, smiling as your soft touch helped to ease the discomfort he was feeling. It would be nice to see friends but he was more than happy you were here with him. It wasn’t long before a nurse came in to check vitals and Bucky was relieved since he definitely could use more pain medication.

Winnie asked you to join her to get food since no one had really eaten and even though you didn’t want to leave Bucky you weren’t going to say no to his mother. Besides, you needed to steer Winnie away from the cafeteria and the nurse seemed thankful to have less people in the room.

Bucky felt settled after a dose of painkillers, easing the radiating aches from all over his body. George poured a cup of water, handed it to him and set aside the pink plastic pitcher.

“How’re you feeling James?” he asked, forcing a smile when all he wanted to do was cry looking at the state of his son, from the deep purple bruises on his temple to the scrapes that marred his skin.

Bucky gulped down the water, quenching the arid condition of his mouth. “M’okay, a little better I guess.”

“Your head feels okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, no one said I hit it or– ”

“Are you sure about that?”

George leaned in closer, as Bucky squinted in confusion. His smile dropped and his eyes grew stern as he organized his thoughts into a more appropriate lecture despite the disappointing anger that bubbled beneath his skin.

“I really wonder James, because see Y/N, a great girl who clearly loves and cares about you and you let her go.” Bucky tried to interrupt, to fill in all the details he hadn’t told him in the past but George wouldn’t let him. “No son, there has to be something wrong with you if you can’t see it.”

“Dad, it’s… it’s complicated,” Bucky let out with a sorrowful sigh.

“James, real love is complicated. It’s wild and passionate as much as it is frustrating, but when you find someone that loves you as much as you love them it makes overcoming obstacles worthwhile. Love isn’t easy but it is easy loving someone that makes you feel alive, that makes life worth living and when you find that someone you don’t let them go. Don’t let her go, James.”

Bucky sits with the weight of his father’s words heavy on his chest. It had already been hard to breathe and now things felt worse. He doesn’t know the full story, how a stupid mistake ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He wants to make it right, to tell you everything not that it would change anything. Bucky assumed that since you spent all night waiting by his side that you at least don’t hate him anymore like you used to, so maybe your friendship can be salvaged. Still, it’s going to hurt him to see you in Peter’s arms but Bucky would rather have you back in his life because not having you there at all is far worse.

You come walking in with his mom, smiling and laughing and it’s such a beautiful sight. The smile on his face can’t help but grow. Bucky watches as his father wraps an arm around his mom, pressing a kiss to her temple. She smiles looking up at him, pulling out sandwiches from a deli you had come from.

“Ohh and someone wants to say hello,” Winnie said, pulling out her phone, trying her best to connect to Rebecca on FaceTime despite the shitty signal. The connection is spotty and Bucky ends up having a regular phone conversation with them. They were definitely happy to hear he was doing better.

After the call Bucky asked about his phone and his mom found the bag of his personal belongings in the closet. She grimaced at the lack of clothes, realizing whatever he came in with was most likely cut off him in the ER, thoughts of the whole ordeal bringing tears to her eyes. Underneath his shoes were his wallet and phone which she handed him, surprised to see the screen had not cracked.

Bucky attempted to turn it on but it was dead. Normally you carry a charger with you but in the rush to leave your apartment that was the last thing on your mind. Your own battery had just passed half its life but you didn’t really care. There was nothing else you needed to focus on today besides Bucky.

His parents stay into the afternoon, getting a chance to speak with the doctor and meeting Natasha, Clint and Steve who arranged their visit together. They left shortly after since the room had gotten crowded between everyone and visitors for the person in the other bed. You and Winnie hugged, squeezing tight for a lingering moment, fighting the urge to cry again out of exhaustion and relief for the night you went through together. George gave an equally strong hug, one that Bucky watched from his bed, overhearing his parents making sure you had both their numbers.

You looked just as tired as they did and Bucky knows you should probably go home. He wonders if you’ll leave when your friends do but when the time comes and Natasha is shrugging on her jacket you make no move to do the same, only getting up to hug them goodbye.

Alone again, Bucky finds comfort in the silence between you, as the speaker for the TV lays beside him filling the background with noise. He watches as you set up the cards he received on the windowsill, making sure Clint’s it’s going tibia okay card is angled so Bucky can see it and smile.

When dinner arrives he frowns at cold peas and carrots, eats the bland chicken and enjoys the soup more than he thought. Bucky urged you to eat something more than the bags of chips and nuts you had been snacking on since the sandwich you split between breakfast and lunch. You insisted you were fine but he forced you to eat his salad, assuring you he was not in the mood to have it.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Bucky groaned through an exhale, his eyes squeezed shut as hissed an unconvincing “yes” through his teeth.

“I need more pain meds and…” he shifted as much as he could trying to ease his discomfort.

“And what? Bucky, whatever it is I can get the nurse in.”

“I… it’s embarrassing,” he admitted.

You smiled softly, leaning close to remind him, “Whatever it is can’t be more embarrassing than the time I nearly shit myself in front of you. Remember? All my trips running to the bathroom hoping I could make it on time?”

Crinkles formed around his eyes as Bucky smiled, chuckling before he realized how much it hurt to do so, at the memory of your food poisoning and the weekend he spent helping you recover. And now here you were by his side, doing the same.

“It’s uh, my…” He looked away, blushing beet red as he squeaked out, “...my catheter. It’s not great.”

An array of expressions crossed your face. “Yeah… I can imagine.” When you finally locked eyes with Bucky again you couldn’t help but smile awkwardly, offering to go get him a nurse.

It took a few minutes to return as you looked for the nurse, coming back with a surprise, Wanda and Sam. Wanda held back tears as she carefully hugged him and Sam couldn’t help but go into doctor mode and ask how Bucky was doing.

“I’m good. Alive thanks to you.”

Sam grinned. “I can’t take all the credit, but you are lucky. Very lucky.”

The nurse lumbered in, tired from a long shift but his demeanor changed upon seeing Sam, the two of them knowing each other well. Riley had praised Sam’s skills having formerly worked beside him in the ER for a while.

“Riley, this is my boy so please, whatever he needs make sure he’s taken care of, alright?” Sam turned to Bucky, “You good? Do you need a sponge bath?”

Bucky sighed, “No Sam, I don’t need a sponge bath.” He blushed with embarrassment, rolling his eyes at his friend’s teasing. “I would really like to pee on my own though.”

“Riley, call the stream team!” Sam shouted a little too loud.

Bucky instantly regretted his admission, pinching the tender bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “It’s nice they let you out for some fresh air Sam, that padded room must get pretty boring.”

Sam wore a toothy smile, happy to see his friend was still in good enough spirits to rib him back. He and Wanda stayed long enough for the shift change and though Sam didn’t personally know the next nurse he introduced himself and wanted to make sure Bucky was taken care of.

Once again you made no move to leave when Sam and Wanda did, getting up only to stretch. Your bones creaked like old wood, stretching out stiff muscles until you felt the slightest bit of relief. The chairs provided were not the most uncomfortable but after almost a day they definitely took a toll.

Bucky notices the way your eyes grow tired, how every action has slowed. You’ve been in the hospital nearly as long as he has and he doesn’t envy you, even with his injuries.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, stirring you alert. “It’s late, you should go home.” Your head shook before you spoke, opening your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “I’m good, I promise. You’ve been here all day and night, go get some sleep in a real bed.”

It would look stupid if you argued at this point, as you tried to fight back a yawn. Bucky asked you for a favor before you left, to grab his keys and bring some clothes and his phone charger tomorrow. “Only if you don’t mind.” Of course you would.

“Oh and one more thing,” he said, his eyes pleading up at you. “Call me when you get home. I need to know you got back safely.”

You nodded, smiling softly, before entering the number from his bedside phone into yours. Leaning down you pressed your lips against Bucky’s forehead, letting them linger against the warmth of his skin. Upon pulling away you shared a moment, smiling back at each other before Bucky took your hand.

“Thank you Y/N,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. There was so much Bucky meant within those words and by the way you looked at him he believed you knew.

With his body on fire Bucky still rested easier than he had in the last few months, knowing at the very least he had you in his life again.

The subway rocks gently as you travel down the familiar route to the hospital, this time not worrying about making it on time to clock in but with excitement fluttering in your belly to be able to see Bucky again.

Last night you called him just before you went into his apartment, grabbing the few things he asked for and not lingering. You were a second away from crashing, having enough energy to plug your phone in before your face hit the pillow.

In the morning you showered, drinking a strong cup of coffee as you got ready. You didn’t bother with much but it felt good to look presentable. You grabbed Bucky’s things, texting people before you lost service underground. Rebecca thanked you for the updates and said they were looking to fly in towards the end of the week. George and Winnie would definitely be happy to see them again. They contacted you this morning as well, saying they would be seeing you at the hospital in a bit.

Bucky tried to keep himself occupied, shutting his eyes and eventually finding sleep for a few hours before the nurse needed to check his vitals. He stared out his window, watching the dark blanket of the sky slowly lift over the buildings, falling asleep once more before the next round of nurses coming in. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to heal if he can’t sleep but the doctor lets him know he should be released tomorrow or the following day.

It lifts his mood but the height of his spirits soar high above the atmosphere when Bucky saw you walking into his room. You look much more rested than he does and he’s happy about it. He savors your arms around him, feasting upon the scent of your floral shampoo, your smile bringing sunshine upon a gloomy world.

You put the clothes he asked for in his closet, taking his phone and plugging it into the nearest outlet, settling down again in the familiar chair beside his bed. You were just as excited to hear about Bucky getting released soon, the thought of him being just beyond your shared wall again was comforting.

After charging for a little bit Bucky asked for his phone, just to check a few quick messages. You got up to unplug it, the screen lighting up and making your mouth fall open. Bucky’s lock screen was you! Well, it was the two of you, from that time Winnie was testing out her new phone. It was a beautiful memory, a candid capture of a moment in time when you gazed into each other’s eyes, the corners of your mouths settled into a smile; two people holding back the feelings that were written so evidently across their faces.

You pretended not to have seen it, handing him the phone with the screen down. Bucky nearly forgot about the picture himself, his eyes flitting quickly your way as he tried not to breathe too hard and have the monitors give away his panicked state.

Your head was turned up towards the TV, watching The Golden Girls through the muffled sound of the speaker resting against the side of the bed. You couldn’t look at Bucky in the moment, not when you felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. No, you needed this time to collect your thoughts, to find the perfect words to express exactly how you felt and right when they were at the tip of your tongue you held them back.

Winnie and George walked in looking a lot better than they had yesterday. They greeted you both and settled in for the next few hours. They too were excited about his impending release, offering Bucky to recover at their home.

“No, ma I’ll be fine. The building has an elevator, I’m good.”

Worry crossed her face. “What about food shopping? What about bathing?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. “Well you’re not gonna bathe me if that’s what you think.”

You swallowed a chuckle, shifting your expression to a serious one offering your help. “For the food shopping,” you nervously added. Learning from the past, you shut your mouth to avoid the risk of digging yourself a deeper, awkward hole.

His parents left to get lunch for everyone since Bucky was sick of cold vegetables, and the two of you were alone again. He cleared his throat, licking his lips before asking, “You really don’t mind helping me?”

Your smile answered him before your words. “Of course not. Plus we still have a lot of pizza to try.”

You bit your lip watching the smile spread across his face, relief washing over him as things seemed to snap back into place as if nothing had changed. But Bucky forgot about Peter. You had been spending so much time with him this weekend he almost convinced himself things were different.

“Peter isn’t mad you’ve been gone all weekend?” Bucky asked, doing a poor job in hiding the uneasiness in his face as he anticipated your answer. He’s a glutton for punishment, reminding himself that things will never truly be the same again and little does he know how right he is.

“I broke up with him weeks ago.”

Your answer takes a moment to register, the realization hitting Bucky more than the impact of the accident. “Why?”

Haloed by the glow of the sun behind you, the words sang like the message of an angel, because there had to be some sort of divine intervention that brought all of Bucky’s dreams true when you answered, “Because he wasn’t you.”

A tear slipped down your face and Bucky lifted his hand, cupping your cheek and brushing it away. You cupped his hand against you, exhaling staccato breaths and smiling down at the man that brought music into a world that felt silent without him.

You leaned down, the tip of your nose grazing against his, your smile matching his as you closed the distance, pressing your lips together once more. The sound of love flooded your soul as you and Bucky found harmony at last.

EPILOGUE

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Eight

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Sooo….. How are we doing…………….

Warnings: ....Less angst than last week? I think? I mean by my gauge anyway y’all might disagree

Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: “I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.”

Can we talk? I had taken my time in answering Una’s message.

Maybe it was a little petty of me, but it was the first time she’d reached out to me in months, and I was tired. Despite the fact that the armistice between the Federation and the Klingons was in effect ahead of the Peace Accord in Paris, my work had yet to be completed. I’d been selected and summoned back to the Academy by Starfleet High Command to work closely with a number of other Comms specialists and the Klingons to draw up a treaty that would be beneficial to both sides, and would help to ensure that the armistice held. Are you going to hang up again? Was my answer, finally. Her response stunned me - but then, Una typically found a way to catch me off-guard. It would be difficult for me to hang up on you in person.

-- I had this inexplicable urge to hug her, if only to ensure that we were both there, both real and solid, but I knew that Una was not a hugger. Instead I nodded to her as she slid into the booth seat across from mine. I’d taken up brief residence in one of the vacated mess hall spaces in the Academy while I’d waited for her. “How much time have you got?” She asked. “About an hour. It’s technically lunch break.” “We can get something to eat.” “I’m not hungry.” “...How are you?” She asked after a moment. “I’m not sure you deserve that answer.” I didn’t mean to snap, but— seeing Una in person, seemingly unchanged after what I had gone through - after Somonia, after the war, and after she had been so harsh to me, I was not in a mood to be warm and cuddly. Una nodded a little, unflinching. “I do deserve that,” She conceded, “I was...Processing. I should not have said that to you, it was a blatant disregard for your feelings. I’m sorry.” “...Well,” I bristled a little, “Thank you for that.” I glanced out of the window for a moment, gathering myself before asking, “So, why are you on Earth?” “There was a hitch in installing the new Holographic Communications System, it had to be brought in to space dock.” “Crew’s in one piece?” “Yes.” “Are you the only one down here?” “...Yes.” I lowered my gaze to my hands again. “Why did you want to meet with me?” I asked. Una stood and walked around to my side of the booth, sliding in to sit beside me. I didn’t turn to look at her, and she didn’t push for me to. “When...Spock told me that you were alive,” She said softly, “When he brought the timeline to me, the evidence… There was some little part of me that almost hoped he’d made it all up-- Not because I wanted you to be gone,” She hurried to explain, “But because I… Could not fathom the fact that we had left you behind. And seeing your medical file, reading the briefing that you gave Command-- the hell that you went through. If we’d turned back when Cornwell contacted us--” “You couldn’t have known--” “That shouldn’t have stopped us,” Una insisted, “We should’ve gone back, should’ve...Made sure.” I glanced over at Una to find her staring ahead of us, shoulders and jaw tight. “It was hard, watching the crew learn that you were gone. You were missed, you were needed, but seeing the news spread that you were alive, that you’d been drafted into service for the war so soon after you were found— And that we were constantly being told to stay out of the war on top of it … I was angry. I focused that anger in the wrong place when we spoke,” She admitted, turning to meet my eye, “I have regretted that every single day.” I felt tears prickling at my eyes and I lowered my eyes to the gold fabric of her uniform, clenching my jaw. “I’m not apologizing for not telling you,” I shook my head, "I’m sure Cornwell was monitoring my communications, and I don’t know what the repercussions would’ve been-- for either party.” “Considering the Admiral’s tendency to run a tight ship, as it were, I understand. I think you did the right thing...Commander,” Una tipped her head forward as she addressed me by my new rank. I rolled my eyes a little, a small smile creeping onto my face. It had been a battlefield promotion for the sake of my ability to command a small vessel during the Battle of Xisad, one of the last battles fought during the war. Cornwell had promoted me herself. “You know I had to take the Bridge Officer’s test when I got back?” I told Una, slouching down in my seat a little bit, “Just to make it official. They told me that if I didn’t, my rank would revert. I almost let it go.” “Why didn’t you?” “Durling.” “Eli Durling?” I nodded, humming, “Bastard goaded me, said I wouldn’t pass first try, so it wasn’t worth bothering.”

Una smiled. “Stubborn as stone,” She shook her head. “Don’t start,” I began to laugh, and it soon overtook the two of us. As it settled, I gathered my courage to ask the question that had been sitting on the tip of my tongue since Una had told me she was the only one on Earth. “Where is he?” “He’s on Starbase five at the moment. Visiting someone.” “Is he alright?” “Yes.” “And he...He knows?” Una frowned, nodding a little. “Of course he knows,” She confirmed, “You haven’t spoken to him?” “No. He hasn’t reached out and I...I didn’t, I wasn’t sure,” I admitted. I suddenly felt jittery-- sharp, and sensitive. It was like I’d taken a gulp of the worst kind of Koutovian tea. “So--” I cleared my throat, “When do you leave?” “In a few hours, most likely. Starfleet’s set us another mission. Do you know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. I don’t know how long we’ll be working on the treaty and Command doesn’t want to set me to another post prematurely.” “I understand.” I could see the disappointment in Una’s eyes, but rather than say anything, she just tipped her chin up a little bit. “Do you think you’ll leave Communications for Helm now?” She prodded, and I snorted. We both knew the answer to that.

-- Tilly and I nearly knocked one another over with the force of our embrace. I squeezed her as tight as I could, grinning from ear to ear, wholly uncaring that the transporter room crew and the Cornwell were nearby. “I have to check on where you’re staying, but um-- I’ll come and find you and show you and-- excuse me, Admiral,” Tilly ducked around Cornwell before hurting out of the transporter bay.

The Admiral arched a brow at the sight of me before gesturing for me to follow her. I fell into step beside her, glancing around. The Discovery hadn’t changed since my last stint on it, of course, but it was surreal to be back on the ship that I thought had been destroyed. But as nice as it was to be on a starship with no threat of war, I was not in the best mood. Treaty completed, peace talks aside, Peace Accord signed, I had been afforded leave. Shortly after that leave had been granted, I'd received a message from Admiral Cornwell.

“I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.” “You’re not in uniform.” “No. I’m not, because technically, officially, I am not here,” I reminded Cornwell as I cast her a sidelong glance, “Were those not your exact words?” “They were.” “Well, then if I am still technically, officially on leave,” I gestured to my civvies, “Then why would I be in uniform?” “You’re in a fine mood.” “Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you pulled me off of leave for an assignment?” I retorted. “The Discovery has been tasked with chasing down signals that have appeared in varying points throughout the galaxy.” I frowned. “I thought that the Enterprise had been tasked with that directive.” “It had, but it experienced catastrophic system-wide failures. The Discovery took over the mission.” “And I’m here because…?” “There is a colony on the way to the next point that’s in need of monitoring. Starfleet is not interfering, but we’re keeping an eye on them. We need you--” “A Tag and Run?” I asked, stunned, “You’ve really pulled me off of leave for a Tag and Run? Why not pull Durling?” “I have. He’ll be here in a few hours to oversee the op. I’ve business to attend to elsewhere.” “Of course you do.” “Commander, I may’ve tolerated a certain amount of this disposition in the midst of the war, but please trust that I have no such patience for it right now.” I fought the urge to snap back and roll my eyes. “I thought that Tag and Runs were only sanctioned outside of the war in the most extreme cases.” “Trust when I tell you that this is extreme, and sanctioned by Starfleet.” Cornwell stopped at the turbolift, turning to face me. “There’s something else that I ought to make you aware of.” “Oh, there’s more?” “I need you to keep your head.” I looked over her face, at the slight grimace on her lips, and that sharp, jittery feeling bubbled back up in my stomach. “...Kat, what--” “Admiral, a question.” I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but turn at the sound of his voice-- my body was moving before I even fully registered it, half turned from Cornwell, half turned toward Pike. It almost didn’t register, at first, that it really was him. I hadn’t seen him anywhere but my mind’s eye, my dreams, for the longest time. He looked… Well. Almost just as I remembered. There were maybe a few more streaks of grey around his temples, but I didn’t get a good enough look. My brain finally caught up with my body, took in his bewildered expression - the narrowed eyes, his parted lips, the scrunch of his brow - and I turned my head away, eyes set on the turbolift panel. “...You couldn’t have mentioned this before I beamed aboard?” I asked Cornwell quietly. “I wasn’t sure if another ship would be in range. False hope would’ve been cruel,” Cornwell's voice was no louder than mine, her eyes set on the Captain. I turned my head a little as the turbolift doors opened and Tilly stepped out. “Oh! Wow, just who I was looking for--” She glanced between the three of us, taking in the tense silence, “I...Am sorry to interrupt, but, um, your lodgings are ready, Commander.” “Thank you,” I mumbled. “Commander?” Pike’s repetition was hushed, almost awed. I turned my head toward him a little, unable to meet his eye. He’d missed so much-- and what the hell had I missed? “If you’ll excuse me,” I answered tightly, stepping onto the turbolift with Tilly. “See if you can find a uniform,” Cornwell watched me, “And try to give Durling less lip.” “No guarantees,” I retorted before the doors slid shut. --

“That seemed… Tense. Like cage-fight-with-a-Mugato-tense,” Tilly commented over the hum of the turbolift. She was right - it felt it, too. I couldn’t get that look Pike had given me out of my mind. It was buzzing through me; it was a stone in my stomach; it was behind my eyelids when I blinked. “Speaking from experience?” I tried to tease as we stepped off. “Ah-ha,” Tilly shook her head, “No.” I gave her a small shrug, following her down the hall, “Pike used to be Captain of the Enterprise.” “Right.” “And I haven’t seen him since…” “Since he thought you were dead,” It dawned on Tilly, “Oh… Oh that’s worse than a Mugato.” “It’s like two Mugatos.” “Well, here we go,” She stepped aside to let me in, “You’re gonna have a roomie, but it won’t be me.” “Who’s it going to be?” I asked as I stepped inside. “Well, it’ll be me, and if you don’t like that, you can sleep in the frickin’ cargo hold.” I froze again at the sound of that dry, almost raspy voice. “Jett?” I asked, stunned. “Is that a yes or a no to the cargo hold?” She added, standing from her bed, “I mean you don’t actually have a choice, but it only seems polite to ask.” I flexed my hands before I asked, “Can I-- Are you-- Can I hug you?” “Once,” Jett conceded, “But make it a quick one.” I didn’t approach her too fast, didn’t hug her too tightly, just patted her shoulder twice and took a step back. “What, um…” I asked lightly, throat growing tight, “What happened?” “It’s a long story-- And you haven’t even heard it yet,” Jett frowned, watching me step back to what would be my temporary bed and lower myself down onto it, putting my head in my hands. “Hey,” Tilly sat down beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and rubbing it, “What is it?” I couldn’t answer. I just shook my head a little as I took deep breaths, trying to slow my pounding heart, trying to steady my breathing. “Are you mouthing ‘pie’? I should get her a snack?” I heard Jett ask Tilly-- which made me laugh through the few tears that were leaking from my eyes. “Pike,” I mumbled, “She’s mouthing Pike.” I could understand why the two were trying to be careful with me. I surely seemed panicked by what should’ve been amazing news. And it was amazing. I was overjoyed, relieved that Jett was alright, but-- between the mission, Tilly, Pike, and Jett, I was overwhelmed. And Pike had looked right at me -- Right at me. He’d seemed so startled, like I was a figure that had stepped out of a dream-- or a nightmare: unknowable, unplaceable, but strangely familiar and to be dissected. Maybe that was one small consolation. While Cornwell hadn’t warned me, she'd been remiss in warning him, too.

I tipped my chin up from my hands, looking between Jett and Tilly and giving them a weak, watery smile. “I won’t lie, though, pie sounds amazing right now.” "Sure! We can do that,” Tilly said quickly, more than happy to put a baked band-aid over this hurt, “Jett, you coming?” Reno shrugged, “I could eat.”

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#I'm Always Curious #captain pike x reader #Captain Pike x You #Captain Pike/Reader #Captain Pike/You #Captain Pike fic #Captain Pike Imagine #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike/reader #Christopher Pike/You #Christopher Pike x You #Christopher Pike fic #Christopher Pike Imagine

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obae-me · 4 years

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The Demons Inside- Part 3

Part 1 (Lucifer) Part 2 (Mammon)

Word Count: 2185

Description: Levi’s Part of the request “The brothers reacting to an MC crying suddenly in front of them and then trying to act as if nothing happened”

Levi had been waiting for tonight. He’d been antsy about it for days, anticipating it so immensely, he was jittery. Although, it’s entirely possible his twitches and little shakes were thanks to the many energy drinks he had downed today. No matter. He needed to be fully awake and aware in the present. Today he would be spending every hour with the resident human. His Henry, MC.

Envy had nearly driven him mad these past few weeks. MC had done nothing but spend seemingly every precious moment with one of his brothers. Everyone but him. And he knew why, it wasn’t hard to guess. Lucifer was perfect in every way. Mammon--despite his general scumminess--was fun to be around. Satan was vastly intelligent. Asmo was gorgeous and friendly. Beel was strong and supportive. Belphie was relatively calm and clever. And him? Well, he was an eccentric shut in. But despite all that, MC had made sure to hang out with him today, on a day where they both knew no one would be around to bother them.

He jolted out of his frantic thoughts as soon as a knock could be heard from the door. Usually, he’d have his visitor answer, but he was aware of who it was, and he was so excited to get on with their activities he had no patience for his many passwords. Swinging the door open with quite a wild look in his eyes, MC appeared a bit startled. Levi, feeling embarrassment seep into his bones over his eagerness, had his face flush a bright red. Adjusting to his normal sheepish behavior let MC smile, holding up some grocery bags he could see were filled with a plethora of snacks and drinks.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” MC apologized as Levi held the door open for them to enter his room. “Not only did I buy some snacks, but I had to shoo away my chauffeur.”

Levi shook his head, his long bangs threatening to cover his vision. His core sin threatened to burn at the thought of, again, any sibling other than himself hanging out with MC. Maybe he had wanted to go to the store to buy snacks, so why did MC not ask him? You hate the grocery store, you know that, he reprimanded himself. “No worries, it gave me time to clean my room a bit!” Levi pushed his intrusive thoughts to the back of his mind as he gestured proudly at his now immaculate room. Trash was devoid from the floor, old clothes were put in the laundry bin-- “And I even dusted off all my figures!” To prove his claim, he snatched a frilly figure off one of his many shelves, holding it out to MC as they observed it.

They beamed at him, forcing a persistent flutter in Levi’s chest. “It looks great!” Levi noticed something lacking from their expression, like they seemed a bit drained. This urged him to take the items from them and shut his door before the human could think of leaving. Was that faded smile due to him? Had they not been looking forward to this as much as he had? Did they not want to be here? Panic made it hard for him to breathe, but he handled it as best as he could as he pulled up a second chair to his desk for the human to sit in. MC’s eyes flickered over his fancy monitors and equipment, slightly transfixed by all the pretty lights.

“I’ve got lots of things planned, if that’s okay,” Levi told them, the confidence in his voice wavering. The last thing Levi wanted was for himself to blow this fun day with something stupid.

They nodded to assure him, and while their smile might’ve still shown hints of something more, Levi’s panic melted away. “Of course! What’re we doing first?”

Too giddy for words, he opened a game on his desktop, doing his best to explain the rules to MC as he handed them a controller. It was some kind of online fighting fantasy game, and while there were many like it, Levi promised that this was the best of the bunch. They both settled in, picking their characters. Without a second thought, Levi picked his; a bright colored female character with a glowing staff and too many bows on their clothes to be considered natural.

“This is Luma, she’s my main! Who’re you choosing?” Levi squirmed in his seat, ready to get started.

“I don’t know...there’s so many to select from...I’ll just pick someone random for now,” MC shrugged, clicking on the first character that caught their eye. Not wanting to waste any more time, Levi set up a lobby for their matches.

Everything had gone fine...at first. Of course, MC kept dying, but Levi assured them it was their first time playing the game, and the character they had picked was set at a larger difficulty than others. The human nodded and pushed forward. The first match ended with MC getting no kills, stacking up the most deaths, and looking at Levi’s score in shame as the demon had racked up more K.O.s than any other player combined.

MC laughed sheepishly, letting the controller settle languidly in their hands. “Guess I’m no good at this game.”

A pang of something familiar flashed through their eyes, and Levi felt the pain. “Not true! Here, try this character, they’re ranged and a little op, so you’ll be just fine!” They started again, Levi bursting forward from the starting point, already landing a triple kill. Meanwhile, all MC got ten seconds away from base was a magical explosion to the face, killing them rather instantaneously. The further they went forward, the more MC’s shoulders slumped. The more they died, the more the fun light they had started with drained in their eyes. At one point, after MC had gotten nuked right after they respawned, their character stopped moving. Levi glanced to the side, watching as MC placed the controller away from them on his desk as they used their hands to cover tears starting to drift down their face.

Panic flared in his chest again, his skin prickling. He practically threw his own controller away from him, turning in his fancy gaming chair as he placed his hands on their knees. “What?! What happened? What did I do? Oh no, you hate me now, right?” As they sniffled and sobbed, his lungs felt themselves shrink smaller and smaller, air struggling to get in. The match ended, and before it could automatically have them play again, he turned to the screen to leave the lobby. Fumbling with the cursor, he ended up closing the game altogether instead of trying to remember where the Leave Match button was. Swiveling back to look at the human, he blinked in confusion when their eyes were dry and their grin was fully repainted on their lips.

“MC? But you were--”

“--Oh, it was nothing, I had an eyelash in my eye. Want more snacks?” They interrupted him as well as quickly changing the subject. They lied to him, right to his face. Something was up, and yet they would rather do anything else than tell him. Despair overtook his thoughts as MC refused to look at him, opting instead to reach for a bag of puffy chips.

Speaking low, the demon of envy clutched the fabric over his heart as he felt it breaking. “You can’t stand me now, is that it?” Levi brought his arm up to cover his eyes as his mind swirled in dark reasoning, coming to the wrong conclusions out of self-depreciation. “You didn’t even want to hang out with me in the first place?! You came to my room out of pity?! You’re so ashamed to be with me you had to cry?!” His demon form slid into view, his tail slinking against the cold tiles of his floor. Hot salty drops of tears streamed down his own cheeks, his fingers moving up to wrap themselves in his hair as his Envy began to spiral out of control. “Of course you’d rather be with my brothers, of course. Why would you want to hang out with someone like me when...when…”

“When you’re a demon? When you’re a powerful ruler of hell? When you have extraordinary powers?!” Levi lowered his hands and opened his eyes at MC’s escalating volume. Their lip quivered, the bag of snacks fell from their grasp, now abandoned on the floor. “These past few weeks since I’ve been hanging out with your brothers really just drove home how...useless I am. I’ll never be as put-together as Lucifer. I’ll never be as cool as Mammon. I’ll never be as smart as Satan, as pretty as Asmo, as strong as Beel, as witty as Belphie. And I--and I thought maybe hanging out with you would make me feel better but--” Their voice cracked, resulting in the demon nearly flinching as the pain in their voice almost physically hurt him. He expected them to list the many reasons they couldn’t stand to be around him, how he had done everything wrong. Expecting the worst, he curled up in his seat. “But I can’t even play a game correctly...I can’t do anything...I just wanted to be fun like you…”

He had seen so many shows and anime, read so many perfect fantasy romance novels, played so many dating games, he knew exactly what to do. He’d wrap them into his arms and say some gushy poetic speech that would make sparks fly and every bit of doubt in each of them flow away. And yet...all he could bring himself to say was, “H--huh??” A few lingering tear droplets let themselves drift down his face as he attempted to process the words he had just heard. They both sat in a painful silence for a moment, both blubbering messes, both ashamed to be looked at by the other. But as Levi finally comprehended what MC had told him, he began to laugh. “You were envious of me?!” Falling into a giggle fit, MC stared at him, jaw agape. “I was worried that--that you thought I wasn’t good enough for you!”

MC briefly wondered if they had broken him. “But you’re a powerful demon!”

“You’re an amazing human! You watched me dance in cosplay for four hours the other day!” The mental image of the situation bubbled in MC’s brain, causing their tears to transform into laughter alongside Levi. The two of them chuckled uncontrollably, drying their cheeks, thankful they were alone in the room, far from judging eyes.

“You made a cute magical girl,” MC grinned, no malice or intent to harm behind the teasing words. “But...I still don’t see how you can possibly think I’m amazing. I have little talent, no grand prospects for my future, no powers to speak off, a plain personality, and I have the obvious penchant for crying over silly things.”

Biting his lip, Levi slid his own chair closer to theirs, the armrests brushing side by side. “Umm...well...the--the way I see it, you have things that are almost impossible for demons to have. Compassion, empathy, an open mind, it takes a lot of effort for demons to feel those things. It’s something that is rare to find in any living being nowadays, except for maybe angels, but even then you’ve heard Luke’s opinions on demons. Angels do like to condemn. I don’t know what’s typical in the human world but you seem rather extraordinary to me.” Taking a deep breath, he gently used his thumb to wipe away the last stray tear on the human’s face. With a single finger, he rubbed absentminded circles into MC’s knee. “Anyone different would’ve taken one look at my brothers and I and ran away as fast as they could...and yet you stayed. We’ve done everything we can to push you away, and yet you never gave up on us...on me...You’re wonderful, more than I could ask for, I--” He cut himself off, cheeks burning red as he bit his tongue to stop himself from speaking. He’d almost let something embarrassing slip. Racking his brain for something else to say, he felt the tips of his ears start to burn as MC grabbed his hand and let it settle in their palm. “I don’t think,” Levi blurted, recalling and nearly quoting a line from a Ruri-Chan anime, “that worth is defined by power and popularity. I like you just the way you are, isn’t that enough?”

MC initiated it first, almost fully sliding into his lap as they moved from their chair into his to hug him. To prevent them from falling since his seat was only made for one person, he wrapped his arms tightly around their waist. Both of them felt the heat and warmth from one another. It made Levi want to melt and yet explode at the same time. MC pulled him close, his face pressed against their shoulder. “Thank you, Levi.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me levi #obey me levi x mc #obey me levi x reader

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tteenagepetulance · 3 years

Photo

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝓷𝓮𝔀𝓵𝔂 𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼

𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝓃𝓎𝓁 𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

wonderstruck & dancing all alone (left) every night with us is like a dream (right) + a collectable lithograph to match !

𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈

she breezed past the threshold of betty’s rose garden, turned left at the hedges, and went deep, deeper, deeply.... back into the folklorian woods, where a magnificent tree reached ancient branches up towards nearly perpetual lavender skies; some called it a wonder, some called it a miracle, others called it a warning. that didn’t stop her from reaching out two fingertips & opening up the tiny hidden door, painted in swirls of teals and bright pinks, beckoning her towards a pandora’s box named freedom... and with a tumble, she promptly fell right down the rabbit hole.

she found wonderland & this time, she wasn’t getting lost in it.

welcome to fae land’s mistywood high, home of the bullfrogs! once dilapidated school buildings brought back to life by thickets and weeds, swathed in a new coat of pastel pollen paint; teeming with life through vines and ivy, wisteria and lavender and baby breath filling every crack along concrete hallways. plums of roots, shoots, and flowers blooming out of lockers as birds chitter and crickets sing, binders labeled in floral washitape: Large Wing Anatomy Vol.156, ALCHEMY OF RARE GEMSTONES, the encyclopedia of rules and ramifications of ingesting fae food. sneaking out into the mushroom fields and having your first kiss over bioluminescent fungi, all your love immersed in neon blue. a world of neverending youth, dizzy drunk with nectar juice and the splendor of puppy love, each one as intoxicating as the one before. the cafeteria is teeming with political warfare, lines drawn along cliques and conformity. the maddening spin of petals and popularity, crying tears of mascara in the bathrooms... oh honey, life is just a classroom.

how exciting it can be, to dream up new worlds & wonders as the taylor’s version remasters release, and sparse them across new chapter eps, to revel in the majesty and whimsy of our hopelessly romantic inner youth. i hand picked these songs because i think they embody the whirlwind rush of high school, exacerbated under the conditions of nearly endless youth for my fickle fairy friends.

collaboration continues as my good friend, jack antonoff, returns to my side once again to help with production, this time with his iconic indie-pop sound from bleachers alongside him. every song is remastered under his touch, and you might hear the fluttering beat of fairy wings, the twinkle of their magic, the cry of the bullfrog, the chorus of the crickets, and the endless wistfulness i feel when i think back to this journey we started on. lover, state of grace, and daylight got special attention from the both of us, as i wanted to recreate vibes and aesthetics of mistywood to the deepest of my heart’s desires, and as always, jack thoroughly delivered. also joining me again is hozier, who took complete creative liberty with his remaster, which will bring you to your knees with wonderment and hope. maren morris also joins this chapter for a feature, lending her gentle vocals to create an echoing, beautiful rendition that’ll haunt as much as it hopes. when i started this project, i knew i needed troye sivan to join me on at least one track, and he helped spin a gossamer-light tale of sparkling first infatuation, and helped elevate the track with the original demo lyrics from my days at nineteen. brendon urie rejoined my side for a heart-stopping, strings & piano only rerecord of ME!, a titular pop track from the past two years that’s been passed over by many, so i decided to present it in an incandescent, softer light. lastly, the wonderful kacey musgraves lends her voice and songwriting talent to help combine two iconic songs to create a whole new story - you belong with // betty finally brings the james/august/betty love triangle to fruition, after inez accuses august of actually having feelings for betty, and the titular night of prom that changes everything.

this album is a love letter to love itself. // these songs are open letters. // no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. you have to believe in love stories & prince charmings & happily every after. that’s why i write these songs. because i think love is fearless. // fearless is walking into your freshman year of high school almost immortally at fifteen. // an endless seventeen-year-old standing on a porch, learning to apologize. lovestruck kids wandering up and down the evergreen High Line. // the purple-pink skies of the soccer field on the walk home; the dazzle of opal necklaces i couldn’t afford gleaming from a department store jewelry case. // crowds of loving, vibrant people in the bleachers, watching acorn lacrosse. // daydreaming on parchment and mused about who might ask who to the dance or how nervous i was singing the anthem at the local fairyball game. // // they are the moments you saw sparks that weren’t really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning. // a single thread that, for better or for worse, ties you to your fate. // wonderment. intrigue. romance. i noticed things and decided they were romantic, and so they were. // creaks in the floorboards and ultraviolet morning light. // we crave romance. we long for those rare, enchanting moments when things just fall into place. above all else, we really, really want our lives to be filled with love. // love, wonder, and whimsy they deserve // being young and needing someone so badly, you jump in head first without looking. // real love shines golden like starlight, and doesn’t fade or spontaneously combust. // opening the curtains to see the clearest, brightest daylight after the darkest night. // their secret admirer looks at them and sees an elaborate sunset of brilliant color and dimension and spirit and pricelessness. // all the angles of the kaleidoscope that is you. // i don’t think you should wait. i think you should speak now.

𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

enchanted

ivy

i know places

wonderland

daylight - whimsical world version

out of the woods (hozier remaster)

invisible string

new romantics (bleachers remaster)

ours (remaster ft. maren morris)

state of grace - twinkling fireflies version

you need to calm down

we are never ever getting back together

shake it off

blank space

stay stay stay

the way i loved you

i wish you would

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

lover - midsommar night version

𝒷𝑜𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈

you belong with // betty (kacey musgraves remix)

ME! piano remix by kitty committee studio (ft. brendon urie)

sparks fly (original demo lyrics ft. troye sivan)

op notes: hello & welcome to mistywood! thank you so much for everybody’s interest in this!!!! in my mind, all of these “chapter eps” occur after the release of all of taylor’s versions. this was a very self indulgent project, as you can see, and i can guarantee the rest will be as well!! as you can probably tell, the first two portions of liner notes were written by yours truly, while the last paragraph is a scouring off all of taylor’s to thoroughly ~capture~ the prologues she always provides. please enjoy! i take zero criticism lmao too busy being absolutely unhinged!!!

please remember that likes are appreciated, but reblogs beat the tumblr algorithm! support content creators!

keep an eye out for next week’s creation, forever & always are the sweetest con (chapter two) - just as a sneak peek, they’re gay, they’re cowboys, they’re werewolves, and i’m thrumming with excitement over getting started!! i’m aiming at having them posted by next weekend :)

tag list: @tscreators, @networkthirteen, just ask to be added to the next one! credit: coloring (@maxiresources #1, @suunflowerx foodie, @bbyhyuck summer’98), vinyl mockup purchased

#tsedit #ts edit #taylurking #taylornation #networkthirteen #tscreators #taylor swift #taylor swift edit #taylorswiftedit #myedit #taylors version

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lets-play-gwent · 4 years

Text

We know that Geralt is emotionally constipated but I think people underestimate his powers of observation. He pays so much attention to the people who hires him; the way they describe the situation, their relationships, and their feelings can all impact his work. He *has* to pay attention to survive (and of course, being around humans so long, adulterous, horny, stupid humans, he gets an idea of what love and infatuation looks/smells like).

Jaskier, on the other hand, is better at hiding his affections for Geralt than people give him credit for. Yes it is basically cannon that he flirts with Geralt constantly but it is also cannon that he flirts with everyone constantly. Geralt of course sees this, and the bard knows how to walk the line between being friendly/flirty and professing one's love, because of course he does, he's Jaskier. He knows how to hide his feelings just enough so Geralt doesn't notice a change in his general Jaskierness, but one day, he slips.

Based off of this text post by @witchersjaskier

*****

Jaskier was chattering away by the fire, absentmindedly strumming his lute. Geralt was listening intently while sorting and prepping various herbs for his potion.

Jaksier took a swig from the bottle and offered it to Geralt, who refused with a slight wave of his hand. "I really do have this whole love thing figured out, you know. Humans are really quite simple, you see, and easy to please. With a few well chosen words and maybe a bottle of mead there's no one who wouldn’t fall for--" he posed dramatically-- "Julian Alfred Pankertz. In fact--"

Geralt snorted. "Is that so?"

"It is, Witcher, now don't interrupt. As I was saying--"

He's right, but I'm no human... Geralt thought to himself, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small (but well meaning) smirk.

"As I was saying--” Jaskier repeated louder, “I would go so far as to say everyone I've ever met I've either slept with, stabbed, or fallen in love with,"

Geralt frowned. "You've never stabbed or slept with me."

...

Silence.

Jaskier flinched and muted his lute, realizing his mistake. To this day he doesn’t know why he didn’t smooth over the rift with yet another set of well chosen words, as he had done innumerable times before with countless lovers and their concerned wives or husbands. Maybe it was the shitty mead, or the low crackle of the fire, or the thrumming of his heart, or the light he thought he saw sparkle in his favorite pair of golden eyes. For once, he simply couldn’t bring himself to speak.

A hundred emotions flashed across Geralt's face in a second. He stared into the fire, dead still for several minutes. Then he shifted, drawing a breath to speak, but he was still too overwhelmed with the thoughts swirling around his head to find any words that seemed adequate to respond with, let alone ones that wouldn't screw everything up.

He didn't jump to correct me, he didn't laugh it off, does that mean he...? But he couldn’t... he's being so uncharactetistically quiet-- goddammit Jaskier say something-- this doesnt make any sense-- how could he-- but I'm just-- how long--

He shifted again, absentmindedly staring at the long forgotten herbs.

Finally, Jaskier spoke.

"I can see the gears grinding in that head of yours, Geralt, and I get it, you don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry,” He carefully closed the lute into its case.

Geralt’s frown deepened. Sorry?!?! How could he be--

His voice seemed to grow quieter with ever word. “I know I’m just a nuisance to you and I’m sorry I hung around you for so long, I’m sorry you have to take care of me, it’s just--” Tears began to fall from his crystal blue eyes, but he quickly brushed them away. “I’ll get my bags from Roach tomorrow morning and you can just leave me at the nearest inn--”

Geralt choked and brought his eyes to meet Jaskier’s. “Leave? Why would I want to leave you?” A beat of silence. His chest seemed to squeeze all the air out of his lungs in one fell swoop. “Y-you’re not a--” he choked out, and words began to tumble from his mouth of their own accord. He couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. “I love taking care of you, I love that you hang around and I love your annoying rants and your lute,” He reached a hand out, but quickly retracted it and lowered his gaze.

“I love you, Jaskier,”

When Geralt looked up again, he wondered if he had said something wrong. The bard (his bard?) had tears streaming down his face and a hand covering his mouth. “Did I--”

“Yes you DID you fucking IDIOT, COME HERE!” Jaskier nearly tackled him, throwing his arms around his Witcher’s shoulders and pulling him into a deep kiss. Melitele herself couldn’t have separated the two if she wanted to.

EDIT: FOUND! THANK YOU @nol-nol !!!!

someone PLEASE help me find the original text post where Jaskier says “everyone I've ever met I've either slept with, stabbed, or fallen in love with” because I really wanna give OP the credit!!! I would not have had this idea without them and I think that is such a cute line!! Please PM it to me or tag me in it if you ever see it :)

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt and jaskier #fic #one shot #fic account #fic reccomendation #couldn't get this idea out of my head after seeing that text post #thank you OP #the witcher #ship #short fic #gay #help me find the original text post please #I want to give OP credit #jaskier #geralt #a reblog goes a long way

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chaos-in-the-making · 3 years

Text

Modern Sessrin

The accident had left Sesshoumaru with his left arm broken in three different places. The surgery was complex, but at least the doctor had managed to save his arm. After post op, Sesshoumaru decided it would be best to transfer to a care facility until he had use of his arm back. He was young and healthy, but he was a bachelor and lived alone. Normally he would reject such assistance, but the accident had shaken his resolve, the only time that he ever feared for his life. Thankfully, as the owner and ceo of his own company, he could afford the best care.

The facility he spent the next few weeks in was more of a resort. His meals were brought to him, and every day he would wander out into the garden for fresh air and sunshine. He had his laptop, so he was able to conduct business in the pavilion.

That's where he met Rin, a young gardener who was pulling weeds and replacing a row of purple flowers with pink and yellow ones. She noticed him coming out every day, and finally made a comment that the bruises on his face were getting better. Since Sesshoumaru had never doubted that he would heal, it seemed like an obvious observation. But the young woman seemed genuinely happy that his health was improving. She even left him a freshly cut rose from the bushes. He seemed perplexed, but took the rose back to his room.

The next day she was there again. This time she had a small vase that she cut flowers for, and set the vase in front of him. He hadn't said a word to her, but she was so happy to give him the token, that he took it back with him. They did that for a few days, until Sesshoumaru began to speak to her. He learned her name, her favorite flower, and that she cared for her sick grandmother when she wasn't working. The sunny smile was just as nurturing as the sunshine, but Sesshoumaru couldn't see the difference in his face when she was near.

He started asking her for help in carrying his laptop to his room, and she happily escorted him inside. After speaking to management, Rin also began to bring his meals for breakfast and lunch, and she would update him daily on the status of the emaculate grounds. Not a day went by that he didn't see her.

But eventually his arm healed, and with intense physical therapy he was able to straighten his arm from the bend position it had been in. Rin would encourage every inch he gained, becoming his personal cheerleader as he regained movement and strength. He began to wish he could delay the day of his departure.

Until the day his doctor signed off on his discharge. Sesshoumaru could care for himself now, and would continue therapy in an outpatient clinic. So he packed up the vases and the pictures that Rin had drawn him, and left the facility, thinking it foolish to expect a gardener to care for his absence.

Not even a week had passed, and Sesshoumaru realized something crucial was missing. He had no interest in work, or managing his hobbies. Every day after therapy he expected some recognition that never came. Angry with himself, Sesshoumaru realized the problem. He bought a large bouquet of roses and drove to the facility, asking the front desk to speak with the gardener, Rin.

He was told that Rin had not been into work for three days. Apparently she had quit without explanation. Irate at this news, Sesshoumaru did his own investigation, with his own channels finding information. It turned out that Rin had been harassed by a male manager, and after she had called him out on it, she had been fired to protect the company's reputation. That would not do. Sesshoumaru drove to the address his investigator had given him. It was a single apartment in a rough side of town, but Sesshoumaru barely noticed the broken fences and dirty children. If Rin was here, it was beautiful. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

Rin answered the door, squeaked in surprise, and shut it again. "Mister Sesshoumaru! What are you doing here?" Came her muffled voice through the door.

"I heard what happened," Sesshoumaru said. "What really happened. I came to check on you."

There was a pause, then the door opened. Rin looked up at him with eyes shining with tears. "P-please come in. My grandmother would like to meet you."

Sesshoumaru followed her inside, gently closing the door behind him. The rooms were simple, but clean, and there were flowers and plants everywhere. He slid his shoes off at the threshold and stepped onto the mats, following Rin into the back room. He noticed her clothes were worn and patched, but said nothing. Inside the bedroom an old woman lay on the futon, her breath rasping in and out. By her wane features, Sesshoumaru could see that her life was nearly at its end. Rin sank by the woman's side and struggled with her tears.

"I was told... to give her into the care of Hospice," Rin said. "But I cannot afford it now. So I must watch over her... until she-" Rin broke off, her voice choking with grief.

Unsure of what to say, Sesshoumaru sank down next to her. The grandmother didn't even open her eyes. Her hands were lying on top of the blanket, and he reached out to touch them. "They look like hard working hands."

Rin wiped her eyes and nodded. "She raised me after my parents died. Of course I took care of her after her stroke. But once she is gone, I dont know what I'll do."

Sesshoumaru had never sat with anyone in grief. He had observed the mourning period for his own father, but he had shed no tears. But words weren't necessary. After a few moments Rin's tears began to subside.

"Thank you," she murmured, turning a sad but sunny smile to him. "You are very kind to check on me. I think I can bear it now- now that I got to see you again."

Sesshoumaru felt his chest constrict. He had to say something. "A secretary."

Rin glanced up in confusion. "Eh? What was that?"

Sesshoumaru cleared his throat. "My secretary just got promoted. I need a new one. You will get training, of course, and the pay and benefits will cover all your needs." He kept his gaze on the old woman, and by that Rin got the clue of what he meant.

"Oh..." she said, her mind catching up to the possibilities. "Will I... will I get to see you every day?"

Sesshoumaru felt his heart reach for the hopeful tone in her voice. "I will never miss a day at the office."

Rin laughed softly, the first time since he had entered the apartment. "Then it will be my pleasure to help." She settled a little closer to him. "And when you're not in the office, I will bring you flowers."

Sesshoumaru nodded. That had been his wish all along. Flowers and sunshine. Rin and her laughter. The old woman stirred, and Rin bent to tend to her, but Sesshoumaru fetched anything she asked him to, and stayed until the evening. The restlessness of the past few weeks was gone. He had found his Rin, and that was enough.

#sessrin #sesshoumaru #inuyasha #rin

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violetmuses · 2 years

Text

Shattered - Finale || Rick Flag (A "Parachute" Drabble)

Author’s Note: Here’s the finale! Thanks so much for reading.

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @fairchildflag @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny

=====

2021

Lorraine Tucker-Flag

“I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.” - Paulo Coelho

“Hey,” His voice rasped as soon as Rick reached out to caress my cheek. Quite some time had passed since we “surprised” Griggs down in Louisiana at Belle Reve.

“Hey, how’d you sleep?” I had woken up during another early morning to find the blankets rustling towards me, noting that Rick was still with me. Alive.

Despite the lies with madness around his survival, it was still a miracle and I’d stay thankful for the rest of my own life.

“Good. You?” Rick asked. The brief question to me was small, nearly coy.

“Good.” I repeated his answer.

“Uh-uh. Surgery or not, I know when you lie.” His brows furrowed, but he still held my cheek, forcing us to continue this eye contact. That perfect hazel gaze bore into my soul, immediately acknowledging my worry.

“Rick, I know that you’re fine, but what about Waller? She tried taking you down and could’ve won.” I dared to sit up against our pillows and leave his warm embrace.

“Karma is real, Lori. Let God deal with her, not you.” Rick assured, hoping that my own nerves would calm down in one way or another.

“You sure we can’t do anything?” I narrowed my eyes, facing Rick through blurred vision because I hadn’t put in my contacts yet.

“Yes, Lorraine.” Rick set his lips onto my shoulder and hugged me from behind. “The last thing I want is to survive this shit and lose you for real this time just because we’re mad at somebody else.”

“Damn, you’re good.” I almost fell back against his chest.

“I know. Now come back here.” His Southern accent showed up once more, teasing me as usual.

_____

“Late morning?” I messed with him while eating breakfast with Rick during one of my only days off from working at the diner.

“Late mornings are so much better than not waking up at all.” Rick drank from this glass of water, reminding me of his mother’s words.

“Amen. I'm definitely not complaining.” I cut into these waffles, noticing how light our backyard sparkled.

“Barbecue today? It’s warm enough outside.” It was long before he then prompted me to laugh.

“Hell yeah.” I said, knowing that he was already thinking of both lunch and dinner at the same time.

Here was my best friend. This man was one pure goofball who acted like a genuine sweetheart after taking off the uniforms and anger.

______

It wasn’t some kind of neighborhood affair. We strictly fired up the grill and hustled in that kitchen just to be “selfish.” After Rick spent so much time facing dietary restrictions Post-Op from medical staff, this “clearing” finally brought him back.

Yet, the highlight of that day was how he awkwardly danced around the living room while eating from this bowl of a Low-Country Boil. Learning his mother’s recipe was so worth it.

“I missed this so much! Momma would be so proud. Thank you, Darlin’.” He spoke up between bites and looked at me with the clearest expression of joy on his face.

“You’re welcome.” I nodded, watching as Rick adorably forked this piece from the bowl and ate once more, closing both eyes.

At that moment, I saw his mother, the same woman who smiled with tears in her eyes when I exchanged vows with her son five years earlier.

Her beautiful, upstanding, gracious son.

_____

“No meal prepping again for a while, girl. To be honest, I think we just cooked enough food for two neighborhoods.” He joked after we cleaned up this kitchen together and “restocked that fridge, sitting in the living room once more.

“Good. We could always send containers for people, though.” I suggested. Rick nodded, glancing between me and the basketball game playing out on television.

“Yep.” Rick said, holding my hand just when OKC Thunder lost the game.

“Shit.” I shook my head, but Rick turned off the television anyway and pivoted his attention right back towards me.

“Want ice cream?” He offered another childlike question as we stood together from the couch.

“Sure, but let me get this straight: Near-death scenarios and heart surgery won’t stop you from spoiling me, Flag?” I scoffed, humored.

“No, Ma’am. Cookie Dough or Rocky Road?” Rick let go of my hand just to reach into the freezer and lift two small pints.

“Haven’t had Rocky Road in a while. Hand it over.” I smiled once more, laughing when Rick took some Cookie Dough in return.

_____

“Baby?” He turned in bed later that night, shirtless and almost hiding my chest as we held each other close.

“Yeah?” I glanced down with barely enough room to run my fingers through strands of his blondish hair now.

“I’m out. I’m done. Soon, I’ll be resigning from Waller for good.” He sat up after allowing himself to leave my arms, but sounded determined.

“Are you sure?” I watched him.

“Yes.” He repeated himself from earlier this morning. “I love you too much to put up with this shit anymore.”

“All right.” I agreed with him by giving another kiss

****

Just days later, Rick walked down steps of one federal building in Midway, perfectly suited rather than armored to make his last good impression. I stood near flattened stairs that bottomed out, ditching my server uniform and dressed in heels this time.

“It’s over.” Rick smiled, opening both arms to give this embrace that rocked me back and forth.

We didn’t even care about onlookers who would’ve immediately asked too many questions.

“How’d she take it?” I asked, walking hand in hand towards the parking garage that loomed across this same street.

“We were professional, but I really don’t care.” Rick laughed once more as we climbed into his truck, blasted music, and drove off, never to see Waller again.

#parachute drabbles #shattered #lori and rick #black oc #canon x oc #oc x canon #rick flag #interracial

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

Lost Time {16}

A/N: Another chapter with @tacmc!

Elain took deep breaths in and out as she sat up on the examination chair. Azriel sat next to her, holding her hand. They’d been sitting in silence since they were escorted back, unable to control their nerves. Well, Elain’s nerves, anyways. Azriel seemed to be staying fairly calm as he scrolled through his phone with one hand and rubbed the back of her hand with the other.

“Babe,” Azriel said, quietly, looking up at her through dark lashes. He put his hand on her knee, which was shaking uncontrollably. “You’re worrying too much.”

“I am not,” she said, but sighed. “Have you heard from your mom?”

He nodded, and held up his phone, showing her a picture of Donovan on the tire swing at the park in town.

The smile on her face as she looked down aher the screen. “He’s such a boy,” she chuckled. “It’s not even raining. Where did all that mud come from?”

Azriel huffed a laugh. “There’s no telling.” He brought her hand to his lips. “Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Elain closed her eyes and nodded. “Just nervous,” she admitted, resting a hand on her still-flat stomach.

“Shouldn’t I be the nervous one?” He asked, a sparkle in his hazel eyes. “You’re the one who’s done this before?”

Azriel teased her relentlessly, but he had never been happier. He’d been walking on air since she told him the news.

Elain huffed a laugh. “Maybe so, but it’s my role to be nervous about the big things while you stay ridiculous calm. You only get nervous about weird stuff, like if you’re gonna get the garbage to the curb on time for the garbage man.”

Azriel grinned just as the door swung open and Yrene swept through the door.

“Good morning!” She smiled, pulling a stool up to the side of the chair. “I heard you took a little bit of a fall a couple weeks ago and found out you were pregnant.”

Elain nodded. “And I’ve been sick every morning since.”

Yrenes smile softened as she said, “As much as that sucks, it’s completely normal. Were you sick when you were pregnant with Novan?”

“No,” Elain answered, her grip tightening on Azriel’s hand. “Not really.”

Yrene nodded and smiled softly. “Well every pregnancy is different. Why don’t you lie back and lift your shirt and we’ll see if we can’t find where your little bean is hiding out in there.”

Elain nodded and did as she was told, taking Azriel’s hand as she closed her eyes and waited for the cold sensation of the ultrasound jelly on her stomach.

With a quiet gasp, she looked over at Azriel who was watching the still blank screen with an intensity she’d never seen. As the familiar whooshing filled the room, she couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes from his face to even look at the screen. She felt Yrene moving the doppler over her skin, her gaze locked on Azriel.

And then a strong, steady heartbeat filled the room. Elain covered her mouth and blinked the moisture from her eyes. When she looked back at Azriel, tears were streaming down his face.

“There it is,” Yrene sang, and let them listen to it for a moment before it disappeared. “Nice, strong, healthy.”

Elain’s head fell back against the chair as she reached up to wipe Azriel’s tears away. He caught her hand in his and kissed her fingertips, softly.

“For now, call me if you have any concerns, but I’ll see you again in a month for another check up, okay?” Yrene said, smiling fondly as she wiped the jelly off Elain’s abdomen and got up to wash her hands. “I’ll also send in a prenatal vitamin and some nausea medicine that will be ready for pick up this afternoon.”

“Wonderful,” Elain breathed, as Azriel helped her back up into sitting position.

“Any other questions?” Yrene asked, waiting, just in case.

They looked at one another but shook their heads.

“Thank you,” Azriel said, as he shook her hand.

“Of course.” Yrene nodded. “It was good to see you both again.”

The door shut and Azriel was on his feet, pressing his lips to Elain’s and his hands gently brushing her stomach. “You’re amazing. I love you so much.”

She laughed softly, wiping his fresh tears as she said, “I didn’t do anything.”

“This,” he breathed, his hand covering her lower abdomen. “Our son. Our family. You’ve given me what I never expected to have.”

Her lip wobbled as she gently shoved against his chest. “You can’t say such sweet stuff to a pregnant woman.”

With a quiet laugh, Azriel kissed her, once again, before he helped her up and held her hand to the checkout desk, where Elain made her follow up appointment.

“Feel good enough to stop for lunch before we pick up Novan?” Azriel asked, once they got into his truck. “Mom says they’re not back from the park yet.”

Elain let out a slow breath. “No. Nothing sounds good. I say we go to your mom’s and take a little nap while we wait.”

Azriel blinked as he put the truck in reverse. “A nap? Or, a nap?”

She rolled her eyes as she looked over at him. “An actual nap.”

Azriel sighed, although that little smile remained on his lips. “Alright, fine.”

They drove in silence, the radio playing quietly between them, their fingers dancing along one another’s on top of Elain’s lap. Azriel couldn’t remember a time he had been so happy, if he had ever been so happy. It nearly felt like a dream, like he was living someone else’s life, and he had to remind himself from time to time that this was his life, his reality, that he had truly been so blessed.

It was a short drive to Miryam’s and once they arrived, Elain went right up the stairs and laid down. Az was only a few moments behind her, surprisingly falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. A short while later, he felt the smallest dip in the mattress and found Donovan crawling in behind him beneath the covers. He put a finger to his lips and whispered, “Are you sleepy?” He shook his head and Az said, “Let’s go see what Meme’s doing, yeah?”

“She’s making lunch,” he whispered.

Azriel scooped him up and breathed, “Thank the Cauldron,” and headed downstairs, cracking the door before they left.

“Why mama so tired?” Novan asked, his little arms wrapping around Azriel’s shoulders.

Azriel yawned as he said, “She...doesn’t feel too good.”

Donovan’s brows furrowed. “Mama’s sick?”

Azriel hesitated. They hadn’t planned on telling Donovan that Elain was pregnant for a while, but being the curious little man he was, it made sense that he had noticed the subtle changes in Elain, even if she tried to hide the fact that she was constantly tired and puking.

“She’ll be okay, buddy,” Azriel promised, as they strode into the kitchen to find a plate full of grilled cheeses and tomato soup.

“Yummy!” Novan yelled, clapping his hands together, then remembering his mom was asleep, his hands flew over his mouth. “Ope. Sorry.”

Azriel chuckled as he set Novan down on the hardwood floor. “It’s okay. It’s understandable to be excited about such a delicious lunch.”

Miryam turned from where she was scooping soup into bowls, one brow lifted. “You’re in a good mood. I assume everything went well?”

Azriel grinned, nodding. “Yeah, it did.”

Miryam was the only one they had told. She smiled, excitement lighting her eyes, but not so much as to let Novan know something was up. Many more questions and he may very well figure it out, as smart as he was. “Good. Though we knew it would.”

She sat a plate in front of Novan with the crusts cut off and a bowl in the shape of Mickey Mouse and he looked up at his Meme with the biggest hazel eyes. Before Azriel could even ask, she sighed and said, “You have to be extra careful.” He nodded excitedly and she chuckled and said, “Okay, go. I’ll bring your lunch to you in just a minute.”

In an act that was purely his Uncle Cass, he threw his little fist in the air and ran to the living room.

Miryam explained, “I told him if he behaved all day, he could watch Spongebob with lunch. He, of course, did. And I had forgotten all about my promise until I was about fifteen minutes into making tomato soup. He, again, of course, had not forgotten.” She chuckled fondly. “So I’m going to go set up a tv-tray and a bunch of towels and turn Spongebob on for your son and then you’re going to fill me in on the appointment.”

Azriel laughed as he helped himself to some food and plopped down at the table. As he tore off a corner of his grilled cheese and dipped it in the soup, Spongebob’s laughter floated through the house. Miryam came back a second later and said, “I made him take off his shirt, or else it would be stained forever.”

Azriel grinned as he popped a piece of sandwich into his mouth. “A good call.”

Miryam winked as she got herself a bowl and a plate. “So,” she began, ignoring her food and holding her hands on the tabletop. “You heard a heartbeat?”

A small smile pulled on the corner of his mouth. “It was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

She grinned. “And I assume that’s about all you heard. Everything else is too early to tell, we’ll see you in a month?”

He dunked another bite of cheesy bready goodness into his soup and nodded as Novan’s quiet laughter could be heard from the other room. “That’s about verbatim what she said.”

Azriel continued to eat his sandwich, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at the tv, smiling as his son watched the very same cartoons he’d grown up enjoying with his brothers. It was only when he was about to get up to grab a second sandwich that he realized Miryam hadn’t touched her sandwich yet or her soup. And that she was crying.

“Mom,” he breathed, reaching across the table and taking her hand.

She shook her head. “Don’t fuss, they’re happy tears. Proud tears, honestly.” She used her napkin to dab at her eyes. She stood and placed a hand on Azriel’s cheek. “I know how bad you felt, knowing that you missed this with Donovan. I know how much you wished you could have been there for Elain.” He closed his eyes, but it wasn’t fast enough to stop the tear that ran down his cheek. “But I know how much you wish you could have been there for all of those things, from hearing his heartbeat to holding her hand in the delivery room. You missed those things.” Azriel stood and wrapped his arms around his mother, regardless of the fact that she was nearly half his size. “Now you both get to experience this as you should have. You get to experience it together and I’m so happy for you.”

The quiet sob that left Azriel was the only sound in the kitchen and his arms tightened around her. “Damn it, mom,” he breathed, chuckling quietly. “I’m not supposed to be the emotional one.”

She chuckled as she leaned back and looked at him. “You’ve always been my emotional one. Look at your brothers.”

It was true.

Azriel had always felt it all.

“I keep waiting for myself to wake up,” he confessed, shaking his head. Then his smile faltered. “I wish dad was here.”

Miryam’s eyes softened as she cupped her son’s face. “He is. And he’s proud of you, too.”

Every thread that was holding Azriel together came apart as he nodded, then laid his head on his mother’s shoulder and cried, overwhelmed with emotions, his heart completely and utterly full.

____

After a quick phone call to Feyre to see what their plans were the rest of the evening, it was decided that Novan would get yet another night at Meme’s and Az and Elain would go over to Rhys and Feyre’s for dinner.

“Are you sure?” Elain asked as they were getting ready to leave. “We can stop by on our way home, pick him up-.”

“I want him here, Elain,” she said, taking her hand. The looked back to where he was building the world’s largest Lego tower in the living room. “Only a few more months before he’s not the only grandbaby, and then a few more after that and he’ll really have to start battling for the spotlight.” She winked and Elain couldn’t help but smile as she hugged her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Turning to Az, she said, “I’ll be in the truck, okay?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her head as she left the two of them on my front porch. When he heard the truck roar to life, he looked at Miryam and smiled. “I’m going to ask her to marry me again.”

“And do you think she’ll say yes?” Miryam teased.

Azriel chuckled as he looked down at his shoes. “Is it weird that I’m more nervous now than I was the first time?”

Miryam lifted her son's chin so that he met her gaze. “You love her, and you’re ready, I can see it.”

Azriel smiled. “It’s all I want. Her, my wife. All of us, a family.”

“I know,” she breathed. “You both deserve that happiness.”

Azriel nodded and gave his mother one last hug before hurrying toward the truck.

“What was that about?” Elain asked, as he pulled himself into the passenger seat.

He just raised his brows, eyeing Elain behind the wheel. “Have I ever told you how sexy you look when you drive my truck?”

She rolled her eyes, saying nothing but “Put on your seatbelt,” and backed out of the driveway.

Less than twenty minutes later, they were knocking on Feyre and Rhysand’s front door. Feyre opened the door, carrying their twelve week old black retriever in her arms. “Hey, come in! Someone decided to spill her entire water dish all over the kitchen,” she said, shooting a glance at the happy pup. They laughed and followed her inside, where Rhys was on his hands and knees, towels all over the hardwood. He gave them a wave and then he was back to the wiping. “Pizza should be here any minute,” she said, plopping back on the couch and taking a sip from her glass of wine. “Lainy, there’s a bottle of pinot in the fridge.”

“No, thanks, it’s my turn to drive since we’re picking Donovan up on the way home,” she sighed, glancing at Az, who’d began heading for the kitchen. They knew Feyre would offer wine as soon they got here, so they went with the only excuse they knew no one in the family would question.

“Boo,” she said, sticking her tongue out at Azriel, who was popping the top off of a beer Rhys had handed to him. He blew her a kiss and threw her a vulgar gesture in the most loving way possible.

“Rhys, I want a puppy,” he was muttering when Az leaned his hip against the counter. He had to admit, Rhysand’s Feyre impression was spot on. “I promise I’ll take care of it.”

He snorted, “Okay, grumpy.”

“I swear, puppies are just as hard to take care of as newborns,” Rhysand mumbled, rubbing his temples. “That little furball woke me up five times last night, Az. Five. Times.”

Azriel grinned as he put the bottle to his lips. “Feyre seems happy, though.”

Rhysand’s eyes softened. “She is. She loves that thing. And that’s all that matters.” The puppy ran into the kitchen and jumped up on Rhysand’s legs, tail wagging wildly. Rhysand sighed. “You are cute. Yes you are. Yes you are.”

“Holy shit, you’re a dog person,” Azriel muttered. “Didn’t see that coming.”

The vulgar gestures continued as Rhysand shot Azriel one before strutting into the living room to sit on the couch next to Feyre.

He helped himself to a bottle of water in the fridge before following Rhysand’s lead and sitting on the arm of the chair Elain sat in. He handed her the bottle, which she gratefully took.

The doorbell rang and Lila’s little bark ran through the house as she took off towards the door.

“So what did y’all get into today?” Feyre asked as Rhys headed for the door, scoping the pup up in his arms.

“Oh, uh,” Azriel began, rubbing the back of his neck. “We...took a nap.”

Feyre waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she blinked. “That’s it? You took a nap?”

Azriel looked down to Elain, wondering if she wanted to go on with the charade or get everything out in the open, but she was staring at her hands and Azriel could see the battle that was brewing inside of her.

“Mom also made grilled cheese sandwiches and soup,” Azriel went on, but Feyre’s brows were furrowed as she watched Elain. “Novan and I watched Spongebob.”

Rhysand came back with two large pizzas and set them on the coffee table, Lila on his heels. He was eyeing each of them suspiciously, even the dog, as he turned the hockey game on and grabbed paper plates from the kitchen. Returning, he sat down by Feyre, noting that Elain wouldn't even meet Azriel’s eye.

Sensing Elain wasn’t ready, grabbed a couple plates and filled them each with pizza. “What about y’all? Any excitement today?”

As if knowing her time to shine was approaching, Lila sat on the floor, whining and begging for access to the couch and to the double pepperoni pizza Rhys was about to put into his mouth.

Feyre blinked, chuckling at the dog, and was about to answer Azriel when Elain clamped a hand over her mouth and ran into the small half-bath off the living room. The sound of retching filled the room.

Before either of the could react, Azriel blurted, “Elain is pregnant.”

The room fell into silence, the only sound able to be heard coming from Elain in the bathroom. She had undoubtedly heard him, and would undoubtedly be pissed, but Azriel had never been good at keeping secrets.

His lips snapped shut as he waited for either of them to react, but they were both just staring at him, pizza midway to their mouths. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the door to the bathroom opened, and Elain came out, pale and staring daggers at Azriel.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Snapping back into reality, Feyre looked over at Elain. “El, you’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “We weren’t sure how to tell you, with everything that’s-.”

Feyre was throwing her arms around Elain before she even had a chance to finish her sentence. “I’m so happy for you,” she breathed.

Elain buried her face in her little sister’s hair. “I’m so sorry, Feyre.”

She pulled back, still holding Elain, but looking from her to Az and finally to Rhys. “It’s okay,” she breathed and when Elain’s eyes began to fill with tears and she shook her head, Feyre added, “It really is. We’ve… We’ve done a lot of talking and praying and thinking and…”

Feyre was choking up, which only made Elain cry harder so Rhys explained, “We’re going to adopt, rather than force something that’s not meant to happen for us.” Feyre looked back at him and laughed quietly. His eyes softened as he said, “I told her last night that if we can’t make a baby the good, old fashioned way, then we’d look at our other options. And there are kids all over Prythian that need a loving home.”

Elain was still crying, but she asked, “You’re not upset with us?”

“Upset?” Feyre breathed. “Lainy, you’re growing your family, how would that make us upset? Just because we can’t conceive doesn’t mean that we’re not thrilled for you. I get another niece or nephew to love unconditionally and spoil the shit out of?” She reached up to wipe her sister’s tears away. “I’m so happy. Congratulations, both of you.”

Elain buried her face into Feyre’s shoulder as Rhysand clapped Azriel on the shoulder. “Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Azriel smiled, watching the two sisters cry together. “Adoption, huh?”

Rhysand nodded, thoughtfully. “It was the best thing that had ever happened to us, right? Being adopted. I don’t know how we would have turned out otherwise.”

Azriel blew out a harsh breath. He and Cass had talked in length about it a night a few weeks back, after many, many shots of whiskey. None of the options were great and as one of the detectives on the force, Cass was dedicated to ensuring no child ever ended up in the situations they had.

“Not a word to Nesta,” Elain said, following Feyre to the couch and sitting next to her, her younger sister unwilling to let go of her hand. Elain caught Azriel’s eyes and smiled. She continued, “You’re the first ones we told. Aside from Miryam, of course.”

“Of course,” Rhys laughed. “It’s not like mom wouldn’t have figured it out again anyways.”

“Again?” Az asked, an eyebrow raised. He looked at Elain.

“She’s the one who shoved a pregnancy test in my hands and locked me in the bathroom until I took it,” Elain explained, hesitantly nibbling on a bite of pizza. He nodded, a fond smirk growing.

“Forget Nesta,” Feyre interrupted. “How are you going to tell Donovan?”

Elain and Azriel looked at one another, and when neither one had an answer, they began to laugh.

“I’ve thought of about ten different ways to tell him,” Elain explained, “but, I have no idea.”

“We’ll tell him soon, though,” Azriel followed. “Somehow.”

“I assume we’ll get the how are babies made question, and I’m not looking forward to coming up with an appropriate answer,” Elain said, taking another nibble from her pizza.

Azriel grinned. “It’s true, he’s incredibly inquisitive.”

“Too much for his own good,” Elain agreed.

“How far along are you?” Rhys asked, tearing his leftover crusts into bites and trying to give them to Lila without Feyre seeing. She absolutely did.

“I’ll be twelve weeks on Monday,” Elain said, taking a sip of her water and standing. She lifted the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing and Feyre nearly squealed as she beheld the small but defined bump where Elain’s usually flat stomach was. She ran a finger over her existing stretch marks. There would be plenty more after this was all over and she smiled fondly.

“You sure there’s only one in there?” Rhys asked, and Azriel raised a hand.

“Nope, no, no, no, I’ve experienced this conversation before,” he explained. “Nesta cried and I hated every second of it.”

“We haven’t ruled twins out yet,” Elain said, and Azriel turned to stare at her.

“We haven’t what now?”

She laughed and shrugged. “Yrene said we should keep an open mind about it. I am progressing pretty quickly.”

He blinked. “But we only heard one heartbeat today.”

Rolling her eyes and rubbing a loving hand over her still exposed stomach, she said, “We only looked for one because someone started crying in the middle of the appointment.”

Rhys muttered, “Burn,” before putting his beer to his lips.

“Shut up,” Azriel mumbled. “I’m just saying… twins…is…”

Elain raised a brow when he didn’t continue.

Feyre looked back and forth between them, amused.

“A lot,” Azriel finished.

“Smooth,” Rhysand mumbled, giving Lila another bite from his crust.

“Shut up,” Azriel repeated.

“Would twins be so bad?” she asked, hands on her hips.

Azriel shook his head, lips pressed together. “No. Nope. It would be...so great.”

“I sense the panic in your voice,” Rhysand whispered.

Azriel slowly looked at his brother. “Who invited you?”

Rhysand’s responding grin made Feyre laugh.

Elain’s eyes had softened as she said, “After we go to our parenting classes, I think you’ll feel a little more confident.”

Azriel nodded, although he wasn’t so sure about that. He couldn’t say that he was necessarily excited to start parenting classes, even though he had never so much as held a newborn baby.

“Let’s revisit that Nesta thing,” Rhys said, trying to break the tension. It worked. Elain rolled her eyes.

Before she could reply, Feyre raised an eyebrow said, “Think she’ll accuse you of trying to steal her thunder again?”

“Oh gods,” Azriel chuckled, tossing his entire crust to the pup. She ran to the corner and began tearing pieces off of it like a savage.

“That’s enough pizza for her, you two,” Feyre said, pointing at the two boys and then the pup.

Elain rolled her eyes, remembering when Nesta had been voted homecoming queen, her senior year. When Elain had been voted to the sophomore court, she threw a fit and Feyre was thankfully she hadn’t been in high school quite yet. “I sure as hell hope not. This isn’t as easy as picking an ugly dress and hoping no one voted for me at the dance.”

Azriel chuckled as he remembered that they, indeed, had voted for Elain, ugly dress and all. He also remembered how he’d taken her virginity that night, but that was a different memory for a different time.

“We’re grown up now,” Feyre said, shrugging. “She’ll be happy their baby has someone close to their age.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “Before or after she yells at Az for knocking Elain up out of wedlock again?”

The sip of water Elain had been drinking sprayed out of the empty couch.

Azriel’s face fell into his hands. “Ah, shit.”

Elain’s cheeks had turned a bright shade of pink as Feyre said, “This time, Nesta can’t say anything. Her and Cass aren’t married, either.”

“But they were engaged,” Rhysand pointed out.

Azriel looked up at him. “Are you insistent on being a pain in the ass tonight?”

Rhysand chuckled. “I’m tipsy, sleep deprived, and this is the first time I’ve eaten today, what did you expect?”

Lila was back by Rhysand’s feet, tail wagging, waiting to see if he’d slip her some more pizza. Azriel was trying to get his attention, but he was too distracted blowing into the puppy’s face. “Rhys, you want another beer?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” He drained the one in his hand and sat it on the coffee table.

“Cool, then come get one.” Azriel walked into the kitchen and got two beers out, waiting for him to follow.

“Dick move, baby brother,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head and yawning as he crossed the threshold. He froze when he saw what else was in his hands. “You’re not supposed to propose to me, you’re supposed to propose to her.” Then Rhysand blinked and said, “Wait, that’s Elain’s ring.”

Azriel nodded. “Figured I’d surprise her when we got home.”

Rhysand was shaking his head, “No, man, you don’t understand. We’ve been driving to every pawnshop in Night county looking for that fucking ring.”

Azriel blinked, “What do you mean?”

Rhys glanced over at the girls in the living room before hollering, “Babe, I’m gonna show Az...something...in the garage…”

The chatter got quiet before Feyre said, “Okay? Have fun?”

Azriel was shaking his head and followed Rhys out to the garage. “How are you such a good lawyer?”

Rhys shut the door behind them. “Lucien pawned Elain’s ring without her knowledge. That’s why she passed out at work. She went into shock when she found out.”

Azriel was blinking. “I bought this the week I came back to town. I found it at the shop in the square.”

Rhys was shaking his head and held up a finger, opening the door. “Feyre, come show Az that piece you’ve been working on.”

His holler was met with silence at first, then she repeated, “Okay?”

Soft footsteps padded towards them and when she came down the steps, she said, “You two are acting really weird, what’s going-?” She froze when she saw what was in his hand. “Az, where the hell did you find that?”

“Got it at the shop in the square when I got back into town.” The words rushed out of him as he repeated what he’d already told Rhysand. “Lucien pawned the ring?”

Rhysand and Feyre nodded.

“And that’s why she went into shock?” His words were quiet, and even though the other two nodded, yet again, he was sorting the thoughts out more with himself than them. “She said they’d fought, but not about that.”

He looked down at the ring in his fingers and frowned. All this time, he had thought that Elain had pawned it - and he would have understood it if she had. Out of all the things he deserved when he came back, a pawned ring ranked low on the list. But, Elain had kept it all this time, and Lucien had pawned it?

Azriel was seeing red.

“I know that look,” Rhysand mumbled. “That’s not a good look, get that look off your face.”

“What look?” Azriel was seething.

“The look like you’re thinking about doing something really fucking stupid,” Rhysand replied, without any hesitation.

He shook his head. “I just want to talk to him.”

“Azriel, no,” Feyre said, stepping up and forcing her to look at him. “Listen, what he did was shitty. Ask Elain, none of us were real big fans of their relationship. We accepted it because we thought it made her happy. But you’re back, and you’re together, and you’re not seventeen anymore. You can’t just go beat his ass when he’s done something to piss you off.”

“Oh, he pissed me off a long time ago,” Azriel interjected.

“I know that,” she sighed. “But Az, you’ve got Novan and you’ve got a new baby on the way. You can’t stress Elain out by getting thrown in jail again.”

Rhysand looked inclined to agree with Az, but he said, “She’s right. However pissed about it you are, you’ve got to let it go. You have the ring. You got the girl. It’s over.”

Azriel stayed silent for a moment before letting out a long, slow breath. He put the ring back in his pocket before reaching up to rub his temples. Yes, he wanted to beat Lucien’s ass, was pissed as hell, but Feyre was right. Going to start something and getting tossed in jail as a result would help absolutely no one, especially Elain. He didn’t want Novan seeing that shit, either.

“Fine,” he said, at last, and then Elain’s quiet footsteps were coming through the hall.

“Where did everyone go?” she asked, her voice light, cheery. Lila was there too, once Elain appeared, wagging her tail. She took one look at them all in the garage and halted. “Why are you all standing in here?”

“We were just coming back inside,” Azriel smiled, although he was sure she knew something was off, even though he tried to sound as light-hearted as possible.

Even though she was clearly confused, Elain nodded after Az pressed a kiss to her forehead and they all headed back in. After the hockey game ended, Az rubbed Elain’s back, where she was curled up against him, and asked, “You ready to head home?”

Feyre was long asleep, her head asleep on the arm rest and her feet in Rhysand’s lap. Lila was curled up somewhere in the blanket Feyre was wrapped up in, but he had no idea where. Elain nodded and stood stretching and rubbing a hand over her stomach. “Rhys, can I take a piece of that cheese pizza home?” She bit her lip. “It sounds so good now.”

He chuckled and said, “You can take the whole thing.”

She smiled and after hushed goodbyes, they were on their way. The drive home was quiet and when Az parked in front of the house, he found Elain looking at him. “What?”

She reached over and ran her thumb over his stubble and lips and then crawled over to him and straddled him. His eyebrows raised and he said, “Well, hello.”

“Hello,” she smiled, her lips already brushing against his.

They quietly kissed for a minute, never getting too forward, both of them just enjoying the feeling of being together. Azriel pulled away, and was about to open the truck door and carry her inside, when she breathed, “Marry me, Az.”

He stilled, then hesitated. “What?”

She laughed, quietly. “Marry me.” Her fingers ran through his hair. “I want to be your wife, Az. I should’ve been your wife years ago. It’s time. Marry me, please.”

She watched him for a moment, and when he didn’t say anything, her smile slowly began to fade. “What?” she whispered. “Don’t you want to marry me?”

“What?” Azriel repeated. “No, yes, no, El.” His words fell off, and he laughed, quietly. “Baby, of course I do, are you kidding me?”

“You didn’t say anythi-.”

Azriel shifted so that he could pull the ring out of his pocket. For a moment, he held it in his fist, then Elain looked down, puzzled, and asked, “Az?”

He slowly opened his hand, revealing the same ring he had given her so many years ago.

“How did you-?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he breathed. “I was going to put this ring back on your finger by the end of the night anyways, you just sort of stole my thunder by asking before I could.”

She was shaking her head. “Where did you find that?”

He cupped her face and said, “I found this the same day I bought Novan his camera. Baby, I don’t care how it ended up there, whether it was you or Lucien or the Cauldron itself. What matters is where it is now and where it will stay.” He slid the ring on her finger, back where it had been all those years ago. “We’ll have this baby, get married and be the family we’ve always dreamed of. Donovan is going to be the best big brother and I’m going to be the husband I always promised you I would be. I love you so much.”

Elain threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with everything she had, hoping he’d understand that the kiss was saying the words she couldn’t, not as the tears ran freely down her cheek.

Eventually they got out of the truck, made their way inside and found themselves in bed. As they laid there, Azriel drawing lazy shapes on her bare back, she sat up and said, “I’ve sort of...got a crazy idea.”

Azriel’s eyebrows rose. “Why does the sound of that terrify me?”

Elain smiled and said, “Trust me, I think you’ll like this one.”

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