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nine-of-words · 7 months

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Something Borrowed (Part Ten)

M Gargoyle x M Reader

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Wordcount: 5127

Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup

The horrors have been numerous and persistent for me lately, so this part took its sweet time getting written. Not much else to say about this chapter, other than I’m very excited to write the next one!!

It seems that things are determined to go sideways today.

“Sorry to drop all of this on ya so early, but I knew you’d be awake.” Your sister’s voice comes through the speaker of your device.

You are indeed awake. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, despite it feeling like what you do the most these days- no idea why that would be- so you were already up and slowly trudging through your morning routine. But now you’re distracted with the call, going through making yourself a desperately needed cup of coffee mostly by feel in your dimly lit apartment kitchen.

“It’s okay- So, how exactly did this happen?”

“She took a wee tumble down the stairs. Got up in the middle of the night to get water, fell ass over kettle.”

“Oh, spirits. But you said it wasn’t serious, right?”

“Eh. Fractured her wrist, or so the doctor says. Right, Ma?” You hear a bit of noise in the background that sounds remarkably like your mother being quietly muttering in a displeased manner. “She’ll be right as rain soon enough. But she’s going to be in the cast for a tick.”

“Do I need to book a flight?”

“Hmm. You know we love to see ya- but nah. It's really not all that dire. Think she's tired of all the fuss by now, really.” She explains, before immediately switching into compulsory older sibling teasing. “Plus won't your new fella miss you? Unless you want to bring him along to meet what he's got to look forward to joining up with.”

“Haha… Yeah, you’re right. I suppose you’ll just have to wait…” You haven’t told them he’s not exactly your fella at the moment. What would you even say?

After a bit more conversation, Emer puts your mother on, and you speak to her for a short while. It assuages your worry a little, but not nearly enough to take the edge off. Though she's adamant you don't let her little mishap scare you into making sudden travel plans, you can't help but let it add to your ratings worries.

Maybe… you should go home?

You hang up your voci and look down at the brewed coffee that’s just started to drip through the filter. In your absent minded state, you’ve managed to put the exact mug you’ve been avoiding into the machine.

But there it is, the pink and white curves of ceramic reminding you of everything you're trying to push out of your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated sigh, pausing to stare vacantly at the mug.

Maybe putting an ocean between you and here will help you forget what you could have right now instead, if you weren't cursed.

You have all day to sit on it, you suppose, and can make a decision later. But you do have a business to run in the meantime, so you return to the process of adding your usual milk and sugar.

It doesn’t help the bitter taste at all today.

Things don’t really go much better for you the longer the day progresses.

“This is too sweet,” The older woman across the counter says, brandishing the mostly eaten cupcake in its paper lining. “I want a refund.”

“Well, it's a cupcake, m’am. It is mostly sugar…” You don’t even have the energy to muster your usual level of pleasantness. You barely keep from grimacing as you ring up the refund, just to get this person out of your hair.

Your customers are usually not this problematic, but you’re beginning to think that no one is having a good day today. You can deal with grumpy or picky people, but usually they’re not quite so many of them in a concentrated blast. Every little interaction is finding its way under your skin, and that’s not even taking into account how hard it is to concentrate and get any meaningful progress done.

Though, this is a task you’ve been pointedly avoiding that you’ll have to start sooner or later, today.

You’ve got to finish putting together Devin and Trevor’s cake- if you want it to be solid enough to put flowers in before delivery tomorrow night, which is rapidly approaching the longer you dawdle.

As in, nearly can be measured in hours instead of days soon.

It was different when it was just… anonymous cake layers you were cutting out and leveling. That could’ve been for anyone’s cake! But the more personality that goes into it, the more the subtle, nagging grief makes it difficult to work on.

You sigh and glob a stabilizing dollop of the vanilla buttercream- Trevor's choice- onto the base with your offset spatula.

It’s not as if you’re jealous that your ex is getting married at this point. You’re far past the stage of wanting him back by now. It just… all seems so unfair. Hopeless. He was able to wound you so deeply when he left- and just when you thought you had healed and moved on, carved out some new happiness for yourself- that got taken away, too.

Why should he get to be happy when you’re on the short end of the stick again?

You center a cake layer, then slather some more buttercream, spreading it out to make a glue for the next layer to adhere onto.

You’ll just have to think about it as Devin’s cake. It’s for your friend. That’s how you’ll get through this. You’ll do a good job, for your friend. Even if she’s marrying your ex, she should still get the best cake you can make for her, like you’d do for any other client.

Another layer of cake. A layer of elven berry compote that you made fresh yesterday- also Trevor’s choice, naturally. Another layer of cake. Then, repeat it all again.

As much as you try to rationalize that to yourself as you work through applying the crumb coat, you can’t help but realize you’ve been white-knuckling the spatula handle by time you’ve finished applying the buttercream.

Eventually, you have all of the crumb coated tiers ready on cake boards, to be given another coat and assembled after they’ve firmed up for a bit.

You mercifully shut the disassembled cake in the cooler, relieved that you don’t have to look at it for another few hours. Though, you have to hand it to yourself, even when your life is falling apart, you can make a bang-up gorgeous cake.

The demands of your business don’t stop just because you’re having a bad day and have other things to do, unfortunately. You’re not sure what portal to Hell has opened nearby, but it seems like all of the most awful customers have all decided to come to your shop today to take out their anger on you.

“No, we don’t do tiered pies here. I don’t even know if you’d be able to do that without making a mes- Well, okay. Have a nice day-” You say, though the person on the other end of the line has already hung up on you.

You turn to face the customer waiting at the counter, but before you can even greet them, they interrupt you with a snapping of their fingers.

“Where’s our waiter? I put our order into the kiosk twenty minutes ago and no one has even been by to so much as pour our water!”

“Oh, well, you can eat-in here, that’s what the seating is for, but we’re not a full service-”

“Ugh, fine! Just get me my order already, then.” The customer barks and you have to bite your tongue to restrain yourself from snapping back.

By time you reach another lull in activity and get back to work on Devin’s cake, your jaw and shoulders are fully tensed.

Since it’s slow, you take out the gumpaste. You have another tray of roses to sculpt so they can dry on time to place them tomorrow, so you might as well knock it out sooner than later.

Maybe none of this would be getting to you so much, but the full weight of the wedding being tomorrow is bearing down on you. The one saving grace is that Kirby will be there to distract you- at least you won’t be alone. You’ll deliver the cake, you’ll get through the ceremony, you’ll stay for a brief yet socially acceptable amount of time at the reception, and then you’ll go home and this whole excruciating ordeal will be over.

You just have to finish this cake and get through tonight first.

Only a few more hours until close.

You can do this.

You make it another hour, rolling thinned pieces of sugary paste into delicate petals, before the bell door rings, and the person you see walk through the door gives you pause.

It’s not Carlyle, as you’ve been hoping it was every single time you hear the shop bell jingle since the last time you saw him. But it certainly looks like him, in everything but personal styling, and of course, the shape of the quartzose horns protruding from his brow.

Today it seems he’s left his body glitter at home, however. He’s dressed in relatively casual clothing; a hoodie (midriff still intact), untied slim joggers, immaculately clean sneakers. The difference is so staggering you might not have even recognized him as the same person, compared to his last visit, if he didn’t have Carlyle’s face; which you can now see clearly underneath his loose brown curls, this time not covered by the shadow of his hood.

“Hey.”

He gives you a tilt of his chin in acknowledgement and smiles an uncannily similar, fanged smile to the one you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. It’s a stab of pain, how sorely you miss it right now, and seeing it again, but just different enough to not be it.

“Uh. Hi, Marcus?” You say in a stilted manner, not really sure how to proceed. “You are… looking less gilded today than last time.”

“Hahahah, yeah. I didn’t have work last night, dude. No hangover!”

“Hah. Right…”

“But good to see you again, man! …I was wonderin-”

“Listen, if you’re here to deliver a message or something, I really can’t do this right now.” You cut him off, begging more than anything at this point to not have another thing go wrong or a twist of the knife today. You scrub at your face with your forearm to keep your hands sanitary, the deep pit of frustration starting to bubble out of you unintentionally. “And he knows to not-”

“Hey, no man, listen! It’s nothing like that.” He pats his curls down, the same way that his brother occasionally does with his dreadlocks when he’s smoothing out a misunderstanding. “He’d be PISSED if I knew he was here, hahah. He told me never to come here on my own after last time!”

“Well, maybe you should follow his instruction on that matter.” You say dryly and continue to roll the soft substance in silent judgement. “He usually knows what he’s talking about.”

Marcus seems to take this as a bad sign, his face twisting into a look of exasperation.

“Fine! Gimme a dozen cupcakes then. Fuck, make it any flavor, dude, I don’t even care.” He starts rifling through his pants pockets, finally pulling out his wallet, and then a card that he puts on the counter. It’s got his name printed on it, rather than Carlyle’s, so you suppose he’s gotten it replaced since the last time. “You’ve gotta talk to me if I’m a customer ‘n shit, right?”

“You know I do have the right to refuse service to you…?”

“Yeah man, but I don’t think you’re gonna! You’re too nice, from what I’ve heard.” Marcus says with the sort of shit-eating grin on his face that absolutely makes you want to refuse service to him, but with a vengeance.

“Well if you’re not here on your brother’s behalf…” You sigh in your own matching exasperated look and set down your gumpaste project to start boxing a dozen cupcakes. “Why are you here, then?”

“I’m gonna be totally honest with you, dude. He didn’t send me, but it is about him. I’m like, super worried about him.”

“Oh…” You can’t help yourself, you have to ask. “Is he alright…?”

“Hell no! He’s all fucked up, man! The other night, I left at 8pm and he was still in the same spot at 11am when I got back in. Same book, same fit, same stale cup of coffee. He had sat still in the same place reading whatever nerd shit he was reading for so long that he deadass went half solid.”

You can’t find the words to respond to that. The guilt gnaws at you like you gnaw at your bottom lip, but in a strange way, you feel validated that he’s still as messed up about things as you are.

“Look, whatever he did, it can’t be that bad, right? It’s Lyle!! He like, never fucks up like that.” He leans over the counter, talking with his hands in another show of familiar, yet foreign-in-this-context expression. He taps his chest with the fingertips of a spread hand for emphasis. “And I would know, ‘cuz I’M the family fuck up here. So, maybe you could like, just forgive him and junk? Make up or whatever?”

“It’s not…” You take a second to steady your breath. You’ve been trying to suppress these feelings for weeks, and now they’re getting dragged up so suddenly. “It’s not something he did. It’s… outside circumstances…”

You hesitate for a brief moment before you pick out the last of the random assortment; an orange and mixed spice flavor you found yourself trying out.

“That’s it? There’s no gettin’ around it, huh?”

“No. I'm sorry. It's complicated. I just can't.” You say with weakened conviction as you tape the box up, and then hoping to persuade yourself once again, add; “It’s better this way.”

“Right-” Marcus straightens up and rocks back and forth on his feet, his sneakers squeaking slightly against the tile with the motion. “Sorry if pushing was out of line, dude.”

“Don't worry about it- honestly, I'm sort of glad you showed up.” You smile, bittersweet. “It’s good that he has someone looking out for him.”

“Yeah.” Marcus smiles a conflicted smile back, then takes his cupcakes to go. “See you ‘round, dude.”

You find yourself having a silent argument with yourself as you finish the rest of the roses.

There’s the guilt, of course. Are you a bad person if you know that this separation is hurting you both, and yet you’re continuing to enforce it? Maybe you should have just let Marcus convince you to reach out?

Seeing someone with such familiar features has only made your heart ache that much more for what you’re missing.

Perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t have any customers in the shop at the moment, because they’d be able to clearly see you sneering at empty air and grumbling to yourself.

By the time you finish the last petal on the last rose of the tray, you’re no closer to having resolved your internal disagreement.

You put the roses away, and pull out your fully set, crumb-coated cake. Now just to put the final layer of frosting on, and then you’ll be done for the night.

As you set the tray down on the counter, your voci starts ringing in your pocket. You remove your gloves and answer the call, seeing that it’s Kirby. They’ve been checking in on you a lot more often lately, like you’re a sickly pet needing constant supervision. They're not entirely wrong.

You greet them as you put them on speaker. Then you wash up, and reglove as their voice comes through on the other end.

“So! How is your day going so far?”

“Oh, you know. Typical weekend customers. Ma broke her wrist.” You say flatly, smoothing out the buttercream on the top of the lowest cake tier with a spin of the stand with well-practiced motions.

“Oh no! That’s terrible! Is she okay??”

“She’s fine, but it’s still stressful that I can’t be there to help out.”

Once you’re finished getting a perfectly even, level surface on the lowest tier, you begin the process again on a slightly smaller scale on the next largest cake tier.

“Mmm. Yeah, it must be, being so far away.”

“And Carlyle’s brother came into the shop earlier.” You continue, now lathing more buttercream onto the sides.

“Whaaaat??? No!! Glitter Boy?! Oh my SPIRITS you’ve gotta tell me all the details right now!”

“There’s not a lot to say, really. Told me Carlyle’s not taking it well either, and now I feel like a villain.”

“You’re not a villain,” Kirby sighs. “Sometimes things are just. Y’know. Messy.”

You continue to make your way through doing the final coat on the cake tiers, each one going progressively faster as they diminish in size.

“Oh, and how could I forget- I’m making a cake for my ex’s wedding that social pressure is forcing me to attend. So you know. The usual.”

“Hahah- Ooh, bummer. Well, when you put it like that, it does sound like, toooootally miserable! You’re having a pretty horrible day, and I’m… definitely not about to make it worse, hahah!!”

“Oh no.” You hiss through gritted teeth. “Something’s wrong, then?”

They laugh nervously, a little giggle-whimper that you can’t possibly be irritated with.

You’re silent as you begin to fill a piping bag with buttercream, waiting for Kirby to divulge their information.

“I MAY have some bad news.”

“Oh. Lovely. Just grand! More bad news is exactly what I need at this current moment.” You say, dripping with sarcasm.

“I know!!! Believe me, I know! But I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out.” Kirby sighs. “I just got out of a meeting with my boss and they’re sending me out of town on a case. I have to get on a red eye in a few hours.”

“But… the wedding is tomorrow…”

“Yeah, that would be the problem! But I can’t exactly tell my boss to fuck off and still have a job, y’know??? Soooooo. We are in. damage. control. mode!”

“It’s okay.” You say, it not really being okay at all, but not wanting to lash out at your friend who’s only ever tried to help you in any given situation. You’re simply too stunned to even start to panic.

“Nope! It’s ABSOLUTELY not! But I’ll be there in like, an hour!! I’ll bring dinner and we can totally figure out a plan B, okay? Or I guess plan C or D by now- But bestie, I don’t care if I have to HIRE an escort to take you to that wedding, you’re not going alone! Especially not because of stupid work interference!!”

“Hah- A-Alright.” You laugh weakly and speak through a sharp intake of air, but manage to not sound like you’re about to burst into tears, even though you desperately want to. “See you soon.”

The call ends, but you continue working, despite the rapidly expanding pit of terror in your gut and the sting at the back of your eyes.

This news, surprisingly, does not help your ability to finish this cake.

You keep going, but not without roadblocks. Your eyes screw closed in frustration and pain. Your teeth grit. Your hand clenches around the bag, nearly squeezing the frosting out of the back end of it.

As a small mercy, closing time finally comes and you turn off the light, though you leave the door unlocked, given you’re expecting Kirby sometime in the next hour or so.

You need to move on to piping some of the finer details- But you can't even think about piping an even line right now, not with the way your hand is trembling.

Still, you persist, pushing the bag back taut and re-twisting the open end.

“Stop. Shaking.” You hiss out loud at yourself, your body refusing to obey even your own verbal instructions.

You just need to get this cake done. Is that so much to ask?

Kirby is coming over and you’ll find a solution for the wedding. You won’t have to go to your ex's wedding alone. It will be fine.

The tremor in your hand nearly causes you to stab through the layer you’re working on with the piping tip, so you take a moment to straighten up your posture and try to loosen your locking muscles. You take a few calming breaths, then go back in and manage to finish the last few filigree details on the tier you're working on.

Your hand is already shaking again. You ignore it. You’ll get through this. You have to.

But every time you regain focus, the thought of Carlyle as a miserable and inert statue keeps creeping back unbidden into your mind.

It’s all too much. Too much. Too much.

The lights above you flicker. A buzz of energy ripples through the room.

The pressure on your chest is unbearable now. Blood rushes in your ears.

You can’t deal with this anymore.

You can’t even think-!

POP-

In an instant, something cold and cloying splatters across the side of your face and the bridge of your nose, the front of your shirt, your clenched hands and outstretched forearms.

You bring a hand to your face in shock, blindly testing the sudden change in texture.

Your fingertips come away coated in sticky, sugary goop, and bits of shredded vanilla sponge cake.

And where the cake tiers were sitting on the counter, there’s a conspicuous absence of a cake, only the sparse large chunk of shrapnel- a bloodless crime scene, the mostly empty, frosting smeared cakeboards evoking the essence of a chalk body outline.

Well. You’ll be damned.

The cake exploded.

Hoarse, incredulous laughter escapes your throat- first in disbelief, then in bitter resignation. No other reaction really seems to suit this situation more.

Because your life is a joke. A bad joke.

Your laughs thin out, turning into choked sobs. You sink down until you’re sitting on your cold shop floor with your back against a cabinet, and bring the lower clean edge of the apron up to cry into.

Eventually, the unrestrained weeping quiets into silent tears Time has passed, as evidenced by the sky beginning to darken outside.

“Heeeeellooooo~! I’m heee-” You hear a familiar voice call out and then equally familiar hoof falls on the tile. There’s a rapid change in their tone, making a 180° turn into hushed concern. “Oh. Well fuck, that doesn’t look good-”

After a few moments, Kirby rounds the counter, an inquisitive look on their face.

You can’t even muster the embarrassment to be seen like this, too tired and emotionally drained and just simply done with it all.

You expect a look of pity or maybe some awkward fussing, but instead, Kirby simply gives you a knowing smile.

“What a mess!!” Kirby shakes their head, curls tumbling as they assess the damage. “You’re not hurt, are you, honey?”

You shake your head weakly, rubbing at your eye with your inner wrist.

“Good! Well then, let’s get this all cleaned up!” They chirp and reach out their hand, palm up.

After the moment it takes to recognize the gesture, you take their hand. Kirby’s grip is surprisingly strong for being such a petite faun, and they easily manage to help you to your feet.

“You don’t have to-”

“Well I’m NOT going to let you sit here and cry covered in frosting all night.” Kirby laughs, beginning to roll up the sleeves of their work shirt. “So. Yes I do~”

“...Thank you.” You sniffle.

“Don’t mention it!!” They laugh. “You go get cleaned up and I’ll start tackling this absolute disaster zone!”

You trudge upstairs and debate on the benefits of a full shower before deciding that it’s worth it, even if ten more cakes explode. You’re uncomfortably sticky down your neck and arms.

Maybe you can wash this day away, while you’re at it…

Before long you’re redressed and coming back downstairs- if not feeling completely refreshed, you at least now have it in you to face the (suddenly much longer) list of tasks ahead. Kirby has gotten most of the cake into a trash bag, and is wiping down the counter.

“There, you look much better! Now, come tell me what was happening when this happened, will you?”

You join them, grabbing a sanitizer rag and beginning to help wipe down the closest surface. You describe as best you can exactly what you were doing, feeling, and thinking about when the cake exploded, just as you’ve explained to them about the previous incidents that you weren’t physically present for.

“Hmm.” Kirby hums quizzically. “Well, the good news is I’ve got a potential solution for the wedding dilemma.”

“Oh?” You’d be lying if you said that the promise of a stressor being removed didn’t sound divine.

“Actually, I’ve already convinced Rosario to go with you, if you want, while I was on the way over. Did you know that she’s surprisingly easy to bribe?!” Kirby giggles. “But to be honest- I didn’t even need to bribe her!! She agreed before I offered anything in return. Apparently wedding cake and an open bar is enough reason for her to turn up, or so she said. But I think it’s because she likes you.”

“That’s… very kind of her.” She wouldn’t be the worst companion for the event- you’ve grown quite fond of her presence in your shop, prickly attitude and all.

“Yeah! She’ll easily make your ex just as uncomfortable as I was planning to, all on her own merit, hehe!! BUUUUUT, I think you know what I’m about to say-”

“Don’t…”

“You should call him!” Kirby says in the most obnoxiously sing-song sweet tone they can, and you wince hard.

“I can’t-”

“But you can~!!”

“But I don’t think I should-”

“Well, maybe you should think again, sweetie!! You absoluuuuutely should! Because if this-” Kirby motions to the partially cleaned up buttercream splatter still coating the vicinity. “Isn’t proof enough that it’s not a him problem, I don’t know what would be!!”

You drag a palm across your face, overwhelmed, and heave a sigh.

“At the end of the day it’s your choice! I can’t make you call him. But you miss him, and he misses you! I know this for a fact! And SPIRITS is he being SO insufferable about it!! And so are you!!!! And it’s just a BIT silly to keep drawing this out like this.”

“But… I don’t want him to get hurt…”

“Listen. We know there’s something attached to you- Rosario’s exorcism attempt confirmed that much. But there’s no like, actual indication that any of that is related to what’s happening with the curse. It’s just not how this kind of magic works. We’re almost certain we’re dealing with two unconnected, non-standard issues complicating each other at this point- some sort of spirit attached to you, and some sort of ley-based magical compulsion in play- but we don’t know the source of where either of those things are coming from. Yet.”

“Right.” You say, pausing your cleaning work to take in the new information.

“Though, someone has some very promising ideas about the later being some sort of messed up geas, and Rosario seems like she has a hunch on what is in the shop.”

“But… it just feels like it’s getting worse. Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, of course…”

“I know it feels that way. But I am good at my job! And I’ve been keeping track of the numbers this whole time, y’know?? I’ve got the DATA. Do you know what I’ve noticed the most as a trend over the time I've been working your case?”

You simply shake your head to give them time to build dramatic tension before they continue.

“The cakes explode more when you’re upset!! Like, a whole, whole lot more! And quite frankly at this point, in my professional opinion, you being separated from him is making it WORSE!!”

“...You really think it’d be okay to ask him-” To go back to how it was before, to be with me again; you want to say, but end up continuing instead; “to come with me to the wedding?”

You have the feeling Kirby understands what you wanted to say, anyway, based on their pleased expression, like they’re finally getting the message through to you.

“You’re my friend!! And as your friend, I am HEREBY giving you the permission that you’re not giving yourself! I wouldn’t be suggesting this to you if I didn’t think it was safe.” Kirby squarely lays their hands on you on the shoulders, though they need to reach up slightly to do it. “If anything, having him there might keep you from getting bent out of shape at your ex and blowing up the second cake, like, at the actual wedding.”

“That would be horrible.” You rasp and find yourself genuinely smiling for the first time all day, trying to blink back the sting of more tears threatening to spill, though this time more out of a sense of appreciation than despair.

“It. Would. Be. HILARIOUS.” Kirby says with a mischievous grin, patting your shoulders with each word for emphasis. “And if it were to happen, I would hope you were recording it. Y’know, for data collection purposes, hehehe!! But it would also be, let’s say: bad for business.”

You manage to finish getting things looking clean, as if nothing bad had happened at all, Kirby has called their ride to the airport.

“Now, I have to go or I’m going to miss my flight and my boss will probably-actually-literally murder me.”

“And I have a cake to remake.” You quietly lament. “If you want, I can get on the plane and you can make the cake…”

Kirby lets out a string of giggles, picking their carry-on bag off the seat at the counter they stashed it on..

“Hahah- No thanks!! But- Call him.” Kirby repeats as they give you a squeezing hug goodbye. “Or Rosario, if you must. But don’t make yourself go alone. And keep me updated!! All of the juicy wedding gossip, please. I’m definitely going to be bored out of my mind otherwise, hehe!!”

Then they release you from their grip to head out the door with one last wave and a jingle of the shop bell.

You, on the other hand, let out a long, withering sigh and pull out another set of white cake layers from the cooler.

…It’s going to be a long night.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #gargoyle x reader #gargoyle #male x male #mlm #mxm #male monster #male reader #series: something borrowed #oc: carlyle #oc: declan #nine of words

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jamrockshuffle · 11 months

Text

tes·ta·ment noun a: a tangible proof or tribute b: an expression of conviction

spotify link / image credit

izzy hands playlist; annotations, tracklist, and details under the cut

Updated 10/16/2023: literally so much manchester orchestra towards the end. but it's MY playlist I'll do what I want

A lot of kind of emotional, dark, passionate ed/izzy in this. So just keep that in mind :) This playlist was started last year. I think all of the songs fit still, but if you're looking for the more season 2 oriented content, I will mark the songs added since it aired. Hope you enjoy! It's nearly six hours I think I have a disease.

As per the uzsh the genres run the gambit. don't say I didn't warn you - All This Time / The Beta Machine

When you rose up this morning Did you take it for granted That I'd be there when you woke? That I'd still be there when you woke? [...] If you want me to adore you Better get up off the floor now I've said all I've had to say But maybe there's some better way

- Lost at Sea / Kellermensch

The war is over and I lost I learned the hard way not to trust It's getting easier every day To watch you slip further away

- You Should Have Known I'd Leave / Vast

Love is cold Love is blind Love is a sea And I don't know what you want But I know it's not me

- Blown Minded / Young Galaxy

In my heart I have lived without aught It's been the war of attrition Between a small-minded fool And sublime intuition

- Breathe / Puscifer

honestly lads I don't know what to say it just goes ok sorry

- Holy My Hand / UNKLE

- Touched / Vast

The razors and the dying roses Plead I don't leave you alone The demi-gods and hungry ghosts Oh god, god knows I'm not at home I'll never find someone quite like you, again I'll never find someone quite like you, again

- The Rat / Dead Confederate

This fucking song. I added it over a year ago but holy shit, has season 2 made it that much crazier. Honestly the entire song is just so... i don't even know what to tell ya tbh I would paste the whole song here if I could Shoot from the back And take good aim Make sure I'm dead Bang Bang 'Cause I'm a rat There's no mistake Under the bed Where you sleep Crush the skull And make me tame Sweep it up Hide it away No morals shown In no way explained Stupid human Shit for brains I am going feral over this song and how it slides in so neatly for season 2 so far (as of posting this, episode 3) I'll follow you Into the grave And at the gates I see the passing say "The judge be judged And all the wretched be saved" I throw my curse All across your days <3 ty for coming to my ted talk

- Lovesong / Snake River Conspiracy

might be a little controversial since it's a cover of the original by the cure, but this is more the kind of music I tend to listen to so that's what's in the playlist lol.

- Structure of Love II (Renholdër Remix) / VOWWS

Take a look at me now Have I disappeared? Is this the structure of love? Are you in here? I can't get you out of my mind Your love is so hard to define

- Tusk / Fleetwood Mac

I've said it before, I'll say it again. PERFECT edizzy song. If you think this is a stede/ed song you're wrong get the fuck outta here

- Bleak / Death Machine

Hold my breath Known I am one of the walking dead you say In my chest, there is a bombing It's made of flesh it's made of flesh

- The End Is Begun / 3

Watch what you say Words can be heard from your grave Pluck from a fist full of straws You cannot resist your tragic flaws And you said what you said That I'd be better off dead Than be fed into the furnace Of the monster Shall I cry, shall I die Shall I be shot through the sky As I fly into the furnace Of the monster

- Breadwinner / BEA1991

- Martyr / Roniit, Saint Mesa

Drop all your hunger, kill your dues So give me shelter, give me proof I'll be the martyr and the muse All of your sorrow, I'll consume

- Man Overboard / Puscifer

- Ennoea / Keluar

- Complicated End Times / O'Brother

You can try and measure what I do By the sweat in my brow But you don’t know a thing about me You want to snuff the fire out

- Goliath / Woodkid

A sustained heart pain and a dark fever How did I get fooled by such a savage curse? The more I forgive you, the more it backfires Now you're dancing through the smoke like nothing else matters

- Beat And The Pulse / Austra

- Spellwork / Austra

I work alone saving my soul If yesterday hurts, tomorrow is worse Send me a sign, for my body's aligned I'm ready to waste all my limbs and my face My pores are wide open And bleed for your potion Spellwork and lies

- Feral Love / Chelsea Wolfe

Your eyes black like an animal Black like an animal Crossing the water Lead them to die

- Drift / So Below

Even if you change your mind It doesn't have to mean that it's over Even when the moment's gone I feel the same Even when you bite your tongue It doesn't have to mean that it's over Even if it all goes wrong I feel the same way, hey

- Dancer in the Dark / Scratch Massive

Where did you go? My mind is gone I'm dancing in the dark Just silent and grey It's just silent and grey

- The More I Sleep, The Less I Dream / We Were Promised Jetpacks

I lost all hope I left it with someone, some time, somewhere ago And I picture it now The house on the hill, with nobody wandering around And I cry like hell I'm hugging the floor and pretending there's somebody else The more I sleep The less I dream The closer I feel Oh my word I'm nothing but a curse Oh my word I'm nothing but a-

- Ship in a Bottle / fin

Oh, captain, let's make a deal Where we both say the things that we both really feel I feel scared and I'm starting to sink And I only sink deeper the deeper I think

- Toma / Puscifer

Stole my patience, stole my pride Snatched the rhythm from my stride Kicked my certainty up the middle Knocked the wind out of my romantic side Hopes and wishes set aflame What's your purpose here, whatcha hope to gain? Took my dignity, you took my dignity Burned a lover so earned an enemy

- The Shore / Woodkid

I walked all day along the shore I was made for loving you I drown my pain in alcohol How could you feel the same way too? My feet will not walk anymore So I guess you ought to know the truth I wonder what I am made for If I'm not meant to be with you

- Restless (16BL Remix) / UNKLE, Josh Homme

Well, I'm all restless but I don't care You don't like me much, well, me neither You go read my mind like some kind of God You live, let's have you trippin' on the same one you lost

- Ship To Wreck / Florence + The Machine

And, ah, my love remind me, what was it that I said? I can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed And, ah, my love remind me, what was it that I did? Did I drink too much? Am I losing touch? Did I build a ship to wreck?

- Lies / CHVRCHES

Always, we can sing, we can make time Old songs, flood and flame, you could be mine But you got to show me both knees, skin and bone Clothe me, throw me, move me 'til I can sell you lies You can't get enough Make a true believer of Anyone, anyone, anyone I can call you up If I feel alone I can feed your dirty mind Like I know, like I know what you want

- The End / The Beta Machine

A million miles away from you this time I'll do what it takes I'm on my way If lines are in the sand I'll go under If I can make it in time I will bring you back with me If all that's left of you is in my head This is more than a bad dream The end of all I know

- Jealous Sea / MEG MYERS

This whole song... like bruh lmfao Everything's right, everything's wrong When you call my name I can't handle the thought of always being gone When I'm wearing this ring And I want to go out, I want to get drunk Being in love and I don't want to fight But nothing makes sense anymore And I don't think I can stop the jealousy When it comes, it comes like waves and I can't breathe And I don't think I can stop the jealousy When it runs, it runs like lightening through my teeth I want you to tell me what to do I want you to tell me what you need When you look at me like you do Don't leave, I just can't get enough I just can't get enough

- Holy Water / Zippermouth

I don't want you to save me from the demons only you seem to see But don't you dare take my pride away and strip me of my sanity I'm calling all of you out I'm calling out of you in To the party of unnatural sin And my imperfections scare you, I can see it in your eyes Water That burns my bastard mind 'Cause I can love as good as one can love someone In a perfect world is one I will love myself before I will love you

- Die For You / VALORANT, Grabbitz

Now there's only one thing I can do Fight until the end like I promised to Wishing there was something left to lose This could be the day I die for you

- Choke / Hybrid

I'm not explaining myself to you

- Give It Up / Black City Lights

The fever's own Filling in my bones and my blood It's enough But I still can't take it off It's sickening Hands around my neck And my chest is burning with my breathing

- Elijah / Blood Red Shoes

- Love You Wrong / Husky Loops

I've thought about it all along I am sure I love you wrong

- Autumn / Bear In Heaven

Silent romance guided by chance, just like everything Altogether would it ever suffocate the pain?

- Hands On The Bible / Local H

Hands on the Bible Scared like a child God holds you liable For what you've done Homicidal Stared down your idols A pretty baby Never born You can't believe it You didn't mean it But they saw you do it And they know your name

- Touch / July Talk

I want to make some space underneath my skin Cut me open, I can let you in Should I let myself be torn in two? And will you give into that side of you?

- Avalanche / Kosheen

He's nothing like me So wrong and wretched Your safe reality Is living in sketches And live out happiness With no explanation And peer out at the world

- A Long Time Away / Shearwater

A break in the clouds like a crack in a cylinder But now there's blood on the beach and a wreck in the water As the shadow arrives on the face of your innocence You feel the shock in your eyes and the shaking in your own hands

- It's No Good / Depeche Mode

Don't say you want me Don't say you need me Don't say you love me It's understood Don't say you're happy Out there without me I know you can't be 'Cause it's no good

- Always Right / Ramona Falls

God is in the things you love So don't you punch me with kid gloves

- No Tomorrow / The Birthday Massacre

Dedication to the ruin of the light within you Darkness all around It's so easy to let go of all the things that make you true Watch it all fall down You bait me, I follow And if this night feels hollow Then drown me in sorrow There will be no tomorrow

- Flood / Saltillo

I wanna watch you wreck all the paintings in my house As you run down my wall (Holes of my life) Wash away these things I never needed These papers and these clothes

- The Remedy / Puscifer

izzy @ stede bonnet tbh. well, in season 1 at least ;)

- Little One / Beck

Drown, drown, sailors run aground In a sea change, nothing is safe And strange waves push us every way In a stolen boat, we'll float away

- Becker / Autolux

That's delirium's way You know it seems so right All the entertainment they spray Atrocities contrite It brings you back again It finds you every time The blackest quote they spit into the tin can of your mind

- Eyelids / Saro

In my eyelids, I’ve tattooed your words To remember what I don’t deserve Could you be why I feel so empty?

- Found You / Django Django

I've heard my name spoken in vain so many times You called, well here I am, what is yours is mine There's nothing you won't sell But I don't want the wealth you made That's not what I returned for

- Darkness At The Heart Of My Love / Ghost

There's a darkness at the heart of my love That runs cold, runs deep

- Dangerous / Son Lux

I watch you fall Hollow and depleted A city razed Oh, to bury you beneath it

- Numb / MARINA

- Fear and Loathing / MARINA

- O My Heart / Mother Mother

And I throw my heart back to the ocean But it don't go far, it come back floating And I watch it wash it up with the dead fish But it ain't quite dead, it just is like this

- Bones / The Qemists, Kellermensch

Fearless: my heart Open my arms Laying on the dark isle Every way is down

- El Monstro / SkraeckOedlan

(There beyond the dawn we see you, but our longing is an agony) Där bortom gryningen vi ser dig, men våran längtan är ett kval (They have robbed you of your future, we belong together you and I) De har berövat dig din framtid, vi hör tillsammans du och jag

- Relocate / Kauf

Do you feel any better now? I'm trying to follow what you told me I'm just a dog, mystical empathy and carefree I can't forget the skin pulled tight, every letter read Is it your justice we never see? Do you feel any better now? Your father is lying where the bones are A little lost colony from the start I can't forget the skin pulled tight, every letter read Is it your justice we never see? We never see what only you can say We are ready for it

-> SONGS ADDED AFTER SEASON 2 STARTS HERE

- Before We Drift Away / Nothing But Thieves

- A Place To Call Home / Big Wreck

So how do you beg for what's your own Pick the pieces, lick the wounds Stoke the fire, fan the flame Squeeze the clouds until it rains Would you champion the cause? 'Til you find out what you've lost Who do you dare to call your own And where's the place that you call home?

- My Name Is Ruin / Gary Numan

My name is Ruin, my name is vengeance My name is no one, and no one is calling My name is Ruin, my name is heartbreak My name is lonely, my sorrow's a darkness

- Run From Me / Timber Timbre

- Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92: II. Allegretto / Beethoven

- Because the Night / Patti Smith

- Dear Brother / Puscifer

Reminiscing on our indestructible days The party never seemed to end We donkey punched the night away Some risky business, my friend Fortune seemed to favor us 'Round every dark and twisted bend

- The Moth / Manchester Orchestra

This song makes me so insane tbh Forced myself to take a different name Buried with metonymy Decide for me Throw the man you used to be away Bury him with rivalry entirely My entire life you've been obsessing with the light The closer that you get, the further up you've got to climb You wanna hear it hurt, you wanna feel it when he dies If you walk that path alone, you've got to look him in the eye

- Brevony / Ramona Falls

- Graveyard Shift / Battle Tapes

I fell asleep at the helm of a runaway train And laid myself at the feet of what I couldn't slay

- Black Cloud / POSTDATA

There's nothing outside, there’s nobody left There's nowhere to hide, nowhere to run or to forget No one to find you if you ever tried to And nobody tries to Sand in the sky, drowning in the wind Look in my eyes, mama, I've been contaminated Little by little by little, just a little bit Can you forgive me? Can you forgive me?

- Keel Timing / Manchester Orchestra

Yet another song that makes me insane. I put too much Manchester Orchestra in here but I'm living my best life Don’t let 'em in your bed, we're lying Don't let 'em in your bed, he is lying Little more, a little more, he is biting I was folding slowly frozen Changed for you And it wasn't right, but it wasn't wrong It was holy

- Pale Black Eye / Manchester Orchestra

This entire Song is so fucking wild I don't have yours or mine I don't hurt you like I used to Amy, you must be tired cause when you sleep, you sleep alone And understand the throne Cause if he didn't pay what he had paid I'd undeniably become erased So whatever you want Take whatever you need And bite your veins Bleed your pain Into me Goddamn I'm tired of lying I wish I loved you like I used to So hold on, you pale black eye Cause when I sleep, I sleep alone

- Strawberry Letter 23 / Shuggie Otis

- Pygmy Love Song / Francis Bebey

- In The Dark / Cathedrals

I can see you fall apart You turn away and fade out of sight But I hear you call in the night Let it go, let me hold you this time (don’t say a word)

- The Sailor Song / Autoheart

ty @soundless-storm for the suggestion :) I was your sailor, your demon, your lover Your overbearing best friend Hoping for some attention

- Megalomaniac / Aeseaes

Eye to thigh as he sharpens his blade Thick sweat, sick salt, lead bellyaches I don’t know what I’ve been drinking Dripping dread as all the lights start scrеaming Seven-inch steel bolt fed to thе head Now is then and I am now bound to forget The devil wears a cotton dress over his gun Jagged mumbles wispy warbles blushing in the sun

- Rule #9 - Child of the Stars / Fish in a Birdcage

You were a wanderer Back when you were young I remember your eyes were clear Brighter than the sun With hands so soft Delicate and sweet You learned to fall And balance on your own two feet I could only lead you so far I believe in who you are

- Vessel / Dan Mangan + Blacksmith

There are other lyrics in this song that are good too but this just reminds me of 2x01 when Izzy tells Fang to unhand him when he starts to cry Stop Wait Un Hand Me

- Cover Me / Black Math

One hand above the skin My head below the water As I float in the deep As I float in the deep

- Let It Storm / Manchester Orchestra

This is very post 2x04. For the new unicorn :) I don't wanna hold back my faith anymore I don't wanna fall into that man again I just wanna keep both my feet on the floor So let it touch me And let it storm

- Disciple / IAMX

Sorry this song is kind of a lot lol Disciple, I absolve you So forgive yourself enough to obey the naked truth That you need to be owned And you beg to be controlled

- Bed Head / Manchester Orchestra

This song is SO season 2 ed/izzy it makes me so insane it's the entire fucking song tbh I'm posting most of the song lyrics sorry. "Bed Head" is two old friends existing in two separate realities. It's a conversation about the lives they lived, the consequences of life's decisions, and finding purpose in trying to be better. Arguing with the dead I'm not alone but it sure feels like someone left Deaf notes and talking heads Carrying on your debt Blood on the bed head and volumes you left unsaid Let 'em talk and let it habit, now I'm afraid you're alone Oh, my God Let me relinquish and start to distinguish my past, and my time You and I are oil and fire, so Oh, my God Let me extinguish the habit, the sequence, the loss in my mind Now I believe in the ghost Ghost Clawing against your skin Clutching my neck said, "It's all supposed to end like this" You and I are panoramic Now I'm afraid of the ghost [...] Right by the entrance, you broke Finally, reality's taking its hold You're not who you were, but you can't let it go You're not where you're from, but you're always alone So I stick a flag in the ground I think I know who I'm living for now I am what I am, same above as the ground It's not what I want, but I'm figuring it out

I'll keep updating the annotations as I have free time :) the playlist is almost 80 songs long and growing lol. Enjoy!

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #fanmix #thanks for coming to my ted talk once again #i'm feral #blackhands #edizzy #listen I know they're going thru it rn but don't @ me I'm fine

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years

Note

Can I request a fluffy Joe Mazzello × fem. reader long fic where reader is Joe's girlfriend and reader is acting in a play in and when the play is over, reader is outside talking to a friend and when reader’s friend leaves, reader hears someone say behind her, “Can I have your autograph miss?”, and when reader turns around it’s Joe with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and she lights up at the sight of him and greets him with a kiss and he wraps his arm around her shoulder and they walk together on the streets of New York for a little bit and then eventually go back to his house and have a romantic and cute night with each other?

Your Biggest Fan

Fandom: Actor, American Actor, RPF

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Female Reader

Characters: Joe Mazzello, Female Reader, You

Word Count: 1305 // Rating: Teen & Up

Summary: Joe makes up for missing Reader's play.

Tags/ Warnings: Fluff, Reader is and Actress, Theatres, Kissing, Implied Sexual Content, Established Relationship, Requested Fic, Requests, Tooth Rotting Fic, Forehead Kisses, Giving Flowers, Love, New York City,

Notes: here ya go lovely @borhapgirlforlife19

Y/N sighed and threw the cotton pad down on the vanity. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. Without the thick makeup, she wore for the stage on she looked tired and washed out. That only added to her glum mood. She wasn’t in the mood for much today. It was her last show of the week and one that her boyfriend Joe had planned to attend but he had texted her just as she was about to go on stage telling her there was no way he was going to make it due to something coming up. She had been a little letdown. Due to his work schedule, he had yet to see her in her new role and besides that, they had barely seen each other anyway. The plan had been for him to watch the show and then they were going to let their hair down. Go for something to eat, maybe even a few drinks. But now she faced going home alone.

As she tidied up her dressing table, so it would be ready for the upcoming week, there was a knock at the door. She turned and found her friend Becca sticking her head around the door.

‘Hey,’ she said as she came into the room properly. ‘Hey,’ Y/N saId. ‘Feel like going for a drink?’ she said throwing herself into the armchair in the corner of the room, ‘I need one after this week.’ ‘I don’t know,’ Y/N said. ‘Oh come on,’ she said, ‘another successful week we should let our hair down.’ ‘I was meant to be,’ she grumbled, sighing as Becca’s brow furrowed, causing her to explain, ‘Joe and I were supposed to be going out tonight but he’s had to cancel.’ ‘Well some of the girls are going to Rudy’s,’ Becca said, ‘I said I was gonna see what you were up to and then join ‘em later.’ ‘Well I was just gonna go home but what the hell. I might as well enjoy myself,’ Y/N said. ‘Atta girl,’ Becca smiled.

They chatted whilst Y/N got changed into her own clothes and then they headed outside. They left through the stage door which brought them out onto a dimly lit alley that though it wasn’t the most pleasant could’ve been a whole lot worse. It was dark now, the majority of light coming from the street ahead of them. Y/N shrunk into her coat, feeling the bitter wind of a New York winter blowing through the alley like it was being funnelled directly into it.

‘Geez it’s cold,’ she said as they walked towards the street. ‘I know,’ Becca said, ‘I’m gonna need a drink just to warm me up.’ ‘Well first rounds on me,’ Y/N started though she stopped as Becca slowed down, pulled out her phone, and frowned, ‘what is it?’ ‘My sister,’ she said, ‘she’s in the hospital.’ ‘Is she okay?’ Y/N asked. ‘It’s not her,’ she said, scrolling through the message, ‘it's her husband. She needs me to go watch my niece and nephew.’ ‘Oh,’ Y/N said, feeling disappointed that her plans had been dashed again. Though she rationalised her night could be worse, ‘well you gotta do what you gotta do. Is he gonna be okay?’ ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘looks like he was showing my nephew how to skateboard and well he doesn't know how to skateboard it seems.’ ‘Well I hope he's okay soon,’ Y/N said. Becca nodded and leaned in to hug her before she said, ‘see ya next week.’ ‘See ya,’ Y/N replied watching as she headed to the street quickly and disappeared around the corner. Y/N sighed and continued to stroll up the alley. Well, she did until she heard a voice behind her.

‘Excuse me miss,’ the voice said. Y/N turned around to find Joe standing behind her several paces beaming a smile at her before he said, ‘can I have your autograph?’

Y/N broke into a wide smile as he walked towards her, noticing the bunch of flowers in his hand. He came towards her, handing her the flowers as her his arms went around her waist, pulling her to him.

‘You came!’ she said, happiness lacing her voice as all her frustrations and sadness evaporated. ‘Well I am your number one fan,’ Joe said. ‘My number one fan who’s never seen my play,’ she giggled. Joe acted shocked, ‘excuse me I was in the audience tonight!’ ‘I thought you were busy,’ she raised an eyebrow. ‘I was,’ he said, ‘but as soon as I was done I raced here. I managed to catch the last twenty minutes. You were phenomenal.’ ‘Oh I wish you’d managed to see it all,’ she said, ‘I bet you didn’t have a clue what was going on.’ ‘I was a little lost. I won't lie,’ he smirked, ‘but that meant I got to stare at you instead so I was good.’ ‘Well maybe next time you can see the whole thing,’ she said. ‘Can I still stare at you the whole time?’ he smiled. ‘My number one fan can do as he pleases,’ she giggled, pulling out of his grasp and looping her arm in his, ‘you know what?’ ‘What?’ he said. They were on the street now, ambling down it slowly, arm in arm. ‘Since you’re my number one fan I’ll even treat ya to dinner,’ she smiled. ‘Sounds good to me.’

Y/N and Joe walked a few blocks before they found somewhere to eat. They tucked themselves away in the back, somewhere they could be alone, and able to talk about their days. Joe told her about the scheduling drama they’d had at work which meant all his scenes had gotten rejigged leaving him working well into the evening. She’d told him about her show and how she’d missed him when he’d told her he had to miss it. Their food came and went and though they enjoyed it they didn’t notice it much as they were too enraptured in one another. Pretty soon they decided to call it a night and headed back to Joe’s apartment rather than go for drinks as planned.

Y/N was sitting on the couch, a blanket over her, watching Joe. He was in the kitchen, pouring them both a glass of wine. His hips were swaying to the song in his head he was humming to. Y/N giggled as he turned around and caught her watching him.

‘What?’ he said coming in from the kitchen and sitting down on the couch beside her as he handed her her drink. He clicked the film they had loaded on the TV. ‘Nothing,’ she said with a smile, ‘you’re just cute.’ ‘Is that right?’ he said as he threw an arm around her. ‘Yeah it is,’ she said, taking a sip of wine and then placing it on the coffee table. ‘Well I think you’re pretty cute too,’ he said leaning in so he could place a kiss on her temple, ‘and I’m glad we got to have tonight together.’ ‘Me too,’ she said. Their eyes locked again and Y/N could feel a flutter in her stomach pulling her in. She leaned in and kissed him gently. She felt as he placed his glass down and pulled her into him, deepening the kiss. Then he was moving, pushing her backwards until she lay flat against the couch with him hovering over the top of her. ‘We’re not gonna watch this movie are we?’ she said with a giggle. Joe moved a hair off of her face and smirked, ‘ah I’ve seen it before.’ ‘Well then,’ she said, giving him a quick kiss, ‘you better put on a good show instead.’ ‘I always do.’

#my writing #joe mazello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello fic #requests #requested fic

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casspurrjoybell-20 · 2 months

Text

FOOLS IN LOVE - Chapter 8 - Part 1

BOOK THREE: 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Noah Wright

"Ya' know, I saw a pretty blonde walk out this morning. I was gonna flirt with her but then I thought 'nah, I don't want Noah's sloppy seconds'" Ciera jested dryly from where she sat on the couch, legs crisscrossed, with a bowl of cereal in hand.

The Regular Show was playing on our T.V.

"Oh, she was far from sloppy, you should've gone for it, She was really good at giving head, you would've loved her going down on your ten inch dick," I spoke with a straight face as I grabbed myself a bowl and poured Cinnamon Toast Crunch in before adding milk.

"Damn, you should've set me up."

"Blondes aren't your type," I commented.

I didn't actually know if that was true or not but I've never seen her with a blonde.

"I'd make the exception if their hot," Ciera said.

I sat down next to her and we ate our breakfast in a comfortable silence and watched the cartoon but a terrible thought was eating away at me.

I reached over and set my bowl down on the coffee table.

Looking at Ciera, she had her bowl tipped up as she drank the remainder of her cereal milk.

"What if someone you don't want to talk to might possibly have an eating disorder? But they're not in my life anymore and they have plenty of support around them, so I don't necessarily want to get involved but what if no one is involved in the situation and I'm the only one whose noticed?"

"Hmm," she pounded.

"So, Sam might have an eating disorder and you're not sure if Boring Benjamin or Sam's parents know about it and if they do know about it, are they doing anything about it?"

"Yes."

"Noah," she set her bowl down next to mine and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before continuing.

"This is Sam we're talking about. Maybe you don't still love him- though I think you do..."

"That's..." Ciera cut me off before I could deny her accusation.

"But at one point you did. Deeply, so you're allowed to be concerned about his health. That being said, Sam might not want you in his life, but if I'm being honest, he's clearly in love with you still, or at least has unresolved feelings. Who goes to a school where their ex attends?"

"Well, he's with Boring Ben. He probably just came to UIC to fuck with my head," I muttered.

Ciera rolled her eyes.

"Stop with the cynical mood. You broke up with him. Sam didn't know you were wanting to get back together with him when he slept with Carter."

"Even if I wasn't going to get back together..." I started raising my voice but Ciera held up her hand to stop me.

"Yes, Sam and Carter fucked up. I agree with you and why you're mad at him, I just wanted to remind you of your decision."

I sighed.

"Whatever. So, what should I do?"

We had more pressing manners than my failed love life.

"I don't know," she spoke genuinely.

"Eating can be a touchy subject for people even when they don't have an eating disorder, so it's gotta be way more triggering for Sam. Ask Dr. Zinko when you see him," she shrugged.

"Yeah I guess."

But I didn't see my therapist until Friday and part of me wanted to do something now about it.

*********

So on Wednesday morning at eight am, I made Sam breakfast and put it in a container to give to him.

I still cared about Sam, so it wasn't weird to be concerned... yet as soon as I saw him sitting in Math 102 around 8:45, texting on his cell-phone with a damn smile on his face, I felt like a fucking idiot.

Sam and I weren't together, we weren't friends.

Hell, he shouldn't even be in my life then.

What the fuck was I thinking?

He was probably having a stupid grin for Boring Benjamin, his boyfriend.

Sam hadn't seen me yet, so I decided to bail and go to my seat.

Then I stopped.

What if Sam really was going through this alone?

What if he had no help.

I groaned. Fuck.

I turned around and as I walked towards Sam, he looked up at me.

He seemed stunned at first that I was even coming up to him, which I didn't blame him.

I stopped in front of my ex and dropped the container on his desk.

"Huh?"

Sam didn't say more than that.

"Why aren't you eating?" I asked a little harsh which wasn't intended but for some reason I was always riled up when I thought about or got near Sam lately.

He looked shocked at my questioned and I raised my eyebrows as if to say 'hello, answer the question.'

But all he said was

"I... um."

He looked down at the container.

"What's this?"

"Breakfast. Pesto eggs, bacon and blueberries. Not eating is dumb, Sam. You know that and if I have to make you breakfast everyday or every class, I will."

Sam's eyes widened.

"You made this for me?"

What I was going to say was 'yes because for some reason I still care about you.'

But I was feeling weird and anything but calm at that moment, at least on the inside, so what I said instead was...

"Fuck off and eat," and I walked away.

In my seat, my knee bouncing up and down, I watched Sam.

I wondered if he was going to throw away the entire container of food as he stared at it but then he slowly opened the plastic lid and pulled out the plastic fork I put in there.

Oh God, I felt like a pussy.

This was shit his boyfriend should be doing, not me.

Now Sam's gonna think I'm hung up on him.

'Which I wasn't.'

But then Sam took a bite and I exhaled, my knotted gut untangling.

He took another bite and I felt myself start to smile until Sam looked back at me and I looked away.

That was when our professor walked in.

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casspurrjoybell-29 · 11 months

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Frayed Ties - Chapter 21 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

"I think it's time for proper introductions."

Yore hauled himself to his feet so that he could stand before them.

"I'm Yore, firstborn of the Casmea Border wolves, heir of the Eastern Clan."

"I'm Noni, leader of the mage resistance and this," Noni placed a hand on Seph's shoulder..."Is my partner and second in command, Seph."

"Nice to meet the both of you. I look forward to learning more about your cause."

When Yore looked at him next, Danya straightened up, startled.

He didn't really know how to sum up who he was.

"I'm... Danya."

"Some idiot gave him to Simon as a gift, tattooed with his crest," Hamish added. "He was supposed to be a Companion,but it turns out he's half Soldier. And now he and Simon are fucking, I guess? I don't know. It's a long story."

"You saved me," Yore told Danya. "Thank you."

"I didn't know what Slone was but I knew he was a friend and I knew you felt like him," Danya said. "Thank you for helping us fight. I'm not sure if we would have survived without you."

Yore smiled.

"I've been fantasising about ripping their throats out for a while now. Not doing it would have been a bigger ask."

He turned to Lucas.

"And you're...?"

"Lucas, master thief. I've been living the free mage life long before these fools decided they wanted a piece of the game."

"Ah, that explains it. I couldn't figure out how a Companion could have become so confident with a knife so quickly."

Lucas grinned.

"I've been stabbing since before I could walk."

Liam held up the armour he'd been carting around.

"Slone, do you want this back?"

"Nah," Slone said. "I'll shift back once we start moving again. Move useful that way. Yore, what form have you been in here? They let you shift?"

"I've been stuck as a wolf for however many fucking months I've been down here," Yore said.

"You take the armour, then. Should fit well enough. Use ta be you were broader than me but..." he looked his brother's frail form up and down. "Not so much right now."

"Yeah, I'll need to stay human for a while."

Liam set Slone's armour down on the bench and offered Yore the pants first.

"I'm glad you're..." he hesitated, probably realising that 'okay' wasn't quite the word for it. Not yet. "Alive."

Yore let Hamish support him while he carefully pulled the pants on.

"So am I, for the first time in months. How's Cailan?"

Liam smiled as though just being reminded of Cailan's existence brought him joy.

"Good. He'll be glad to hear you're alive, too. He always liked you."

"I liked him as well. Will he be joining the free mages as well?"

"Ah... no," Liam handed Yore the shirt. "He wanted to stay with me and he wanted to be useful to this cause and I agreed. We decided we could achieve more if we worked to offer our support from the outside."

"He wants to buy out this whole fuckin' city and rebuild it but he can only do that if he can keep the tunnels clear," Slone explained. "I told him we could maybe help with that."

"Yes," Liam confirmed. "Would you be interested in that?"

Yore made a face.

"Well, once I leave these fucking tunnels I'm never coming back down here again."

"No, I... of course," Liam said.

"I'll talk to the others for you, though. You'd pay them for their work?"

"Oh, absolutely," Liam said. "I have no idea what the going rate would be for something like this but I'll pay it. I don't care about profit. I just want the power and resources to help more mages to safety."

"We'll make it happen," Yore promised.

Yore winced as he was trying to get the chest piece of the armour on and Slone immediately stepped up alongside Hamish to help him with it.

"How ya feelin'?"

"Sore," Yore said. "Like how your muscles feel after a lot of exercise, only worse and everywhere."

"Is that normal?" Simon asked.

"For someone stuck in one form as long as he was? Yeah," Slone said. "But he's not bleeding, so he'll be fine. Go long enough and you just die of internal bleeding. And external bleeding. A lotta bleeding."

"Or if I try to shift back before my body's rebalanced itself. I mean, that part would go fine but if I ever tried to go human again after that... not so much. I know I'd be more useful in my other form but..." his expression pinched and he shrugged.

"But none of us want you to die or get stuck as a wolf," Simon finished for him. "Can you walk?"

Yore sat down on the bench and gave Hamish a grateful smile when he immediately knelt to help him get Slone's boots on.

"Well, I'm going to have to, aren't I? None of you could carry me."

"Are all werewolves this fucking huge?" Hamish asked.

"Pretty much," Yore confirmed.

"Prob'ly would make us easier to pick from a crowd of humans than a mage is but nobody knows what we look like or even that we're around," Slone explained. "Bet the next time any of you sees one of us, you'll know it, though."

"Yeah, as soon as one of us is revealed the game is up," Yore added. "Which is why we didn't tell you what we were. Every time you trust someone else you're more or less putting faith in your own judgement. While I'm a fairly good judge of character, I'm not prepared to stake the future of my kind on it.."

Slone rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, yeah. And I honestly feel bad about that, 'cause I'm sure we all know that I coulda been more helpful here just bein' a wolf from the start, but our mum would have fucking killed me if I'd just told ya'll without even talking to her first."

"Getting upset about that now won't help anyone," Noni said. "Are we ready to keep moving?"

"Oh, yeah, wait," Hamish said as he pulled out his knife. "We need to leave a trail so that the others can find us when they catch up."

"Oh, yes, we found your trail," Liam said. "A little macabre, but we would have been a lot further out right now without it."

"I'll shift now and see if I can sniff out anything helpful," Slone said.

"Yeah, good," Hamish crouched down and began slicing a shirt off of one of the vampire corpses. "Can you do that pointy thing with your foot like one of those hunting dogs?"

Slone's eyebrows lifted.

"I can..."

Yore buried a smile against his fist.

"Wait, was that offensive?" Hamish asked.

"Naw, just weird," Slone said. "Okay, wolf time."

Watching Slone shift in the other direction was no less strange.

It happened so quickly and so smoothly that it was difficult to track.

He was a man, then he was some disturbing, twisted body horror and then suddenly he straightened out and he was a wolf.

A few minutes later, after Hamish had collected a few shirts, Slone stopped sniffing and wandered back over to Yore.

"He couldn't find a scent," Yore explained.

"How can you tell?" Hamish asked.

"Well, he's not pointing," Yore said.

When it looked like Hamish might actually believe that, Yore cracked a smile.

"I'm kidding. I can just read his body language. But also yeah, he probably would be pointing to make fun of you."

"We'll keep going this way, then," Simon said, pointing in the opposite direction from the one they'd come.

"Wait."

Hamish sliced a piece of fabric from one of the shirts he'd collected, stabbed his knife into one of the vampire corpses and wet the fabric with the blood.

He painted a giant arrow on the side of the train in the direction they were going and then had to wet the fabric twice more to write his name beneath it.

"Yeah, when they see that they'll definitely want to follow it," Simon said. "Ready?"

"Yup. Let's go."

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genuinely-bad-posts · 3 years

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This post is Genuinely Bad!

#bad post #...ya know maybe i should start adding content warnings to these #cw blood #cw circumcision

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alleycat-arcade · 3 years

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Game Start! The Seven Lords: Those Who Remain

@pastelhologram asked: Wait. What about The demon bros reaction to Mc being the Person lilith fell in love with. Like maybe an au where he's not Related to lilith but instead he's the person she fell for. Even better if They're first impression of Mc is that he didn't deserve Lilith, but as time goes on, They start seeing what lilith saw.

There we are, got that up and running for ya'. Gotta say though, I'm surprised you managed to find such an old cabinet. Feels like its been here since the 9th century or something, haha.

(Ayyy hey we go! I really should just keep splitting these into parts by default since I nearly always get carried away lol. Part 1 for today, and part 2 soon! Hope you enjoy!)

Everburning Candle(Part 1) (Obey Me! Older Brothers x Male/Masc! Mc/Reader)

Content Warnings: Mc/Reader uses he/him pronouns. Spoilers for Pretty much all of season one (Chapters 1-20), since pacts, reasoning behind certain pacts, and Lilith are discussed. I hope you don't mind me adding a few of my personal headcanons! Mostly Hurt/Comfort overall. Very light angst for today. Levi's part has some blood, mostly just a broken nose.

(You ready for a long one? 'Cause its gonna be a long one lmao. If I notice any mistakes after posting, or if you inform me of any, I will correct them as soon as I can. Shoutout to the Luci and Levi simps in the discord for helping me write their respective parts. There is a 60% chance I may rewrite Mammon's part again ajdieff)

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

"The Human World was full of many tales, some more truthful than others. The tale of the Ancient Wanderer was not one well known to many, as the story had become more and more fragmented over the years. There was a time that many people who had met the Wanderer had come together to write a complete novelization of their individual encounters. Sadly, the evening that would make its 10th anniversary of existence was the same night it was stolen, and the library it was stored within burned. Only inaccurate copies remained, as many of the gathered writers from all over the world had passed peacefully not to long after the book's creation. The only detail that remained from the original story was the scent that followed the Wanderer, what would be known in the modern era as honeysuckle and lavender. With the book gone, that left the Wanderer as the only bearer of the true story. No one knows where this mysterious being is now, or if he even existed in the first place. Many historians believe it to be a simple shared delusion, or perhaps another fanatical story similar to more common mythos. Some had gone as far as to compare them to the biblical figure of Cain."

Your gloved hands closed the thick history textbook as you finished, setting it aside on the mahogany table in front of you. "So, do you think you can remember all that for the next exam?" This prompted a sigh of disdain from the individual beside you. "Mc this stuff is way to hard! Why can't you just let me copy off of you? Everyone knows you're the top of the class!" A chuckle bubbled up from your throat, and you reached over to rustle your classmate's hair. "That's exactly why you can't copy me. Now, you keep practicing, okay? I've been tutoring all day and I really just want to go home and take a good long rest." Their pleading eyes softened, before finally sighing and letting you head home.

Perhaps if the library corner the two of you had studied in did not carry the heavy smell of dried mango and energy drinks, your classmate may have noticed the scent of lavender and honeysuckle waft through the room as you left.

Once you reached your apartment, you quickly closed and locked the door before slumping against it. After throwing off your gloves, you reached a little ways down your shirt, just enough to pull of the necklace that was hidden underneath. The preserved feather was lighter than air and almost looked as if it were floating in your palm. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you ran your fingertips along its vane. You did not wipe them away however, allowing them to fall as the memory of a flower field filled your mind. You had lost track of how many years it had been since the day you had first laid out in the small forest clearing, but your mind could never forget one clear detail.

Lilith.

You had never been one to believe in love at first sight, but when the strange woman had kneeled beside your sleeping form you had instantly become enthralled in her. She had this sort of overwhelming glow about her, as if she were one of the very Goddesses many families in your town served and worshiped. Yet, though her appearance may had drawn you in, it had been the rest of her that bound your heartstrings to her fingertips.

The two of you spent many days hidden away in your secret flower patch, giggling about how each other had managed to slip away from their respective families for the day. Your meeting were not long at first, sometimes lasting minutes at a time before the woman you'd come to know as Lilith would return to her family. But minutes turned to hours, and in some cases hours would turn to days. Your heartstrings would flutter each time she drew closer and closer to you, and your heart nearly gave out when she'd first ran her fingertips through her hair.

You remembered the day she'd asked you to keep two secrets. You had simple hummed and nodded, head resting on her lap as she gently stroked it. "Swear to me you won't tell as soul." Your eyelids fluttered open at the seriousness in her tone. Her nervous expression stared back at you, awaiting a response. "I swear on my life, Lilith." You spoke, lacing your hands into hers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. She took a deep breath, before speaking once more. "I'm an Angel, Mc. A being from the Celestial Realm." Confusion crossed your face, which Lilith took as a queue to set you head down in the grass and stand up.

An enchanting glow covered her form as you sat up, blinding you momentarily. As your eyes adjusted, you found her standing before you once more. Her eyes peeked over at you behind her elegant white wings, a nervous wobble taking over the halo above her head. Wordlessly you stood up, approaching her slowing and gently parting her wings enough to envelop her in a loving embrace. "You're beautiful, Lilith. Thank you for telling me your secret." You whispered. "So, does that mean you're ready for the second secret?" You responded to her question with an affirmative hum. Another deep breath grazed your ear as she leaned in. "I'm in love with you, Mc." A smile covered you face as you pulled away and pressed your forehead against hers. "I love you too, Lilith. I love you no matter what. Whether you're a demon, human, or angel doesn't change that fact what so ever."

The sweet memory began to subside, replaced by ones bittersweet and or painful. Falling ill with Lilith at your bedside brought pain to your chest, but it only worsened as the memory of her bringing to you a stolen fruit from the heavens that cured your deathly aliment. She had disappeared that day, leaving you alone once more. A century later you had found her again, choosing to ignore the curse that had come along with the fruit as you showered her with as much love and care as you could manage or afford. The two of you travelled the world until her body could no longer keep up with yours. Though you and Lilith had bore a singular child together, not once did your reincarnated lover accept your marriage proposal.

A stinging pain shot through your heart as your last memory with Lilith coated your mind. She laid on her death bed, a less common demise for a human at the time overtaking her body. Age had caught up to her despite your best efforts, and you couldn't hold back your sobs as you pleaded with her. Your children and grandchildren watched with eyes full of pity as you desperately begged for her to allow you to be wed to her before she perished, but they knew Lilith as good as you did and knew she'd still refuse. Her wrinkled hands held your tear stained face one last time, placing a kiss to your forehead before whispering something to you. "One day, you'll find another who can give as much love to you as you have to me. Our time together may end now, but I promise you a part of me shall always remain with you and the rest of the world." Your denial of her demise had lead you to travel the world in search of her, hoping she would once more return to you as she'd done before. A journey that led you to become know as the Ancient Wanderer.

As days turned to months, months turned to years, and years to centuries, you remained the same as you had been when you'd first consumed the sacred fruit. Your body had gained some alterations, mostly in the form of battle scars, but otherwise you were the same as before. Same age, same height, same face, and same heart. One would've expected you to have become bitter at the world, and for a time you were, but you relaxed into a routine that somewhat soothed your aching heart. For as long as you could manage the lie, you'd act out the made up story of your choosing. Most often you found yourself in the role of a mysterious student who was far more intelligent than the average college freshman and had no visible family figures. Once people started to become suspicious, you'd move onto the next role.

The current person you had pretended to be was quite similar to your usual performance. It had been a good handful of years since you'd first enrolled in the small town community college, and as far as you knew no one had begun to suspect a thing. Perhaps you could achieve a PhD in this false life, you wondered to yourself as you stood up from the door. Yet the thought was short lived, as your body began to plummet through the floor the second you had moved to remove your coat.

You laid splayed out in front of a group of strangers now, groaning out a series of complaints as you struggled to rise from the ground. The false name you'd been using currently fell from a rather cheery looking stranger's lips, the hairs on the back of your neck raising as the male stood beside him eyed you suspiciously after your delayed response.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Lucifer:

It was no secret that the Eldest of the Demon Brothers had been suspicious of you from the beginning. The first time you had failed to react at the normal speed one would respond to their name, he had written it off as a result of the rough landing. Yet, as the action became more and more frequent, his suspicions grew. It was as if you were waiting for a different name to be called, one not mentioned anywhere on your documents.

You had engaged in many other strange behaviors that had caused him to become on edge around you, but the realization of who you actually were had never truly set in until a day after you had formed a pact with Leviathan. Lucifer's eyebrows had furrowed the day you had pulled him away, confused by your sudden directness with him since you usually avoided him like the plague.

One would assume that the Avatar of Pride would be good at keeping secrets, but he had become enraged as the name of his deceased sister slipped out of your mouth. His demon form glowered over you as you confessed your true identity, and if looks could kill you would've been seeing Lilith again. It was hard for his brothers to ignore the way Lucifer was acting, especially against Diavolo's Exchange Student.

Neither of you made a noise as he processed the information, the aggressive look not leaving his face as he trapped you with his wings. Before him stood the human that his little sister had fallen in love with. While he was almost impressed you'd managed to survive for so long, something about you seemed... wrong to him.

In his eyes, you were nothing short of lackluster. A meek, pitiful human that Lucifer could not comprehend how his sister had fallen in love with. Perhaps a version of himself with a fraction more humility may have, but the Avatar of Pride could not. Were you truly the person Lilith had sacrificed everything for? How could you possibly be the one he'd sworn allegiance to the Demon Prince to send his sister back to? You fully expected him to attack you, but he simply set back, a look of disgust painting his features.

After the encounter, somehow word had spread to the rest of his brothers about your past. Lucifer would attempt to stop his brothers from distancing themselves from you, but he knew they'd only grow to resent you more than they already did if he forced them to hang around you. At most he managed to ensure that Mammon still protected you from any harm, but it was obvious that the rest the Exchange Program was going to be rough.

But one night, something changed. It was as normal a night as any, with him and his brothers eating in the dining room as you sat alone somewhere in HoL. He had tried on multiple occasions to get you to eat with the rest of them, but you could see the forced politeness in his eyes whenever he invited you to sit beside him.

You would've just eaten in your room again that night, but Beel had already gotten to your portion of the meal. None of the others would share with you, so you chose to simply roam the dark halls. Lucifer sighed in exasperation after finding out secondhand that you hadn't yet eaten. Once the meal was finished, he put together a decent sized portion of the food remaining in the fridge onto a plate and looked for you.

A breeze fluttered the ends of his coat as he pushed the glass door open, closing it behind him as he approached your position on the balcony. He had spoke your name, your real name, but you did not react at all. Your eyes looked dormant as you clutched something small against your chest. "Mc, did you not hear me? I told you I brought you food. I'm aware you haven't eaten since this morning."

Lucifer waited for a response for a while, but not a single noise came from you. After setting the meal beside you he turned to leave, until your voice spoke from behind him, barely above a whisper. "She had the prettiest eyes, y'know?" The Avatar of Pride turned back to face you, perplexed. Your grip on the object in your hand had loosened, revealing something pure white and soft. As a Fallen Angel, it was something fairly easy to recognize. An Angel's feather, specifically one plucked from the area closest to the previous owner's heart. If he'd not know any better, Lucifer would've thought that you had received the Courting Item from Simeon.

"Lilith?" Despite knowing the answer, he still spoke the question. Unless you had another angelic lover, there was only one person you could've been speaking about. You simply nodded, beginning to trace the ridges of the feather.

His mind told him to leave the conversation at that. To return to his study and finish the mound of paperwork he'd still had to complete by next week. And yet, his body disobeyed.

He was just as surprised as you were when he rested his forearms against the balcony beside you, the only space separating you and him being the plate of food. The demon ignored your surprised eyes and sudden nervous fidgeting, choosing instead to breath out a sigh and look out into the backyard's garden. "Can you tell me more about her? As a human I mean. If you've managed to remember those details that is." Your gaze softened despite his somewhat surly tone, and you turned to look at the garden as well. "Of course I remember. I'd be a damn awful boyfriend if I didn't."

With the dry chuckle now released from your lips, you began to recount anything and everything about Lilith. Even what felt like the smallest of details were not left out, and you'd only occasionally return to the Ancient tome you always carried around to recite certain details. You'd even said something about his sister that he didn't even know, from long before she had died. Though the Eldest gave no visible reaction as you spoke, your recollections were actually stirring up quite a storm of emotions inside of him. It was as if the stages of grief were swirling around in his stomach all at once.

At some point you had begun to lose track of the conversation, simply beginning to recount the rest of your life up until this point. The Avatar of Pride couldn't bring himself to stop you from getting off track, as your tales of the Human World over the years were rather enticing. His heart thrummed with intrigue as you recounted stories of warfare, and oddly felt light as you described what were know as the Seven Wonders of The World. You only fully realized that you had gone off track once you finished telling him about the Qing Dynasty, as sheepish smile crossing your face.

It had been at this point that the storm began to subside, only to be replaced with a sinking feeling. Guilt was not an unfamiliar emotion, he felt it quite often in circumstances that involved his family. Rather, he hardly outwardly expressed these feelings, favoring to lock them deep into the recesses of his heart. A sudden twinge filled his chest as he recalled the treatment you had been receiving from him and his brothers, drawing him away from the balcony. He tried to ignore the surprise on your face at his curt apology, before returning to his room.

Lucifer had never apologized to you before, or at least since you'd told him about your past. But now he had politely excused himself with one. You weren't even sure as to what he had fully said to you, your brain more focused on the fact that the word "sorry" had even left his mouth. A demon you'd come to recognize as a man smothered with pride had never acted this way towards you, most times he'd simply leave your presence without a word unless you were in front of Diavolo. And even then it sounded forced, unlike the natural apology that he had uttered upon leaving.

Around dinnertime the next week marked the moment you fully recognized the change in the Eldest's behavior. He'd called you away to his office to speak about something, telling his brothers to eat without the two of you. The scent of freshly grilled salmon hit your nose as you followed behind him, and he beckoned you to take a seat beside him. The meal laid out before you was much more plentiful from your usual meal, and you could almost imagine how difficult it must've been to get this in here while also keeping it so warm and fresh. "Go on, dig in. The fish is not going to bite back, you know?" Confusion muddled your mind at his rather playful tone, carefully cutting off a piece before taking a bite. It was...

Delicious. As if you were indulging in a Five star meal at a fancy restaurant in the Human World. Your apprehension died down with each bite, and you swore if you had a tail it would've been wagging at the speed of sound. "You like it, I see. Good, I had Hell's Kitchen deliver it so we could dine together. Its a type of salmon called "The Demon King's Salmon". We're in the middle of their mating season right now, so that means they're more wild than usual as well as more rich in flavor." You had been nodding along absentmindly at first, but slowly you realized just how much this must have cost and nearly choked. Coughing into a napkin, you tried your best not to waste the pieces of salmon stuck in your throat. But it seemed you just needed a comforting pat on the back to swallow properly, one that nearly sent you into a state of shock.

Worried crimson eyes examined you as Lucifer gave firm pats to your back, only stopping once the choked noises stopped. "You frightened me there, Mc. Do be more careful when you're eating." His words of comfort hit your eyes, nearly rattling you at your core. "J-jeez Lucifer. You're uh, acting a little different today. You doing alright?" He couldn't meet your eyes after you spoke those words, choosing to instead eat some of his own food. "I'm fine, Mc. I simply recognized that haven't been the best host is all."

Though it wasn't something the two of you did every night, you had formed a routine where you'd have dinner in his office and chat. It became something to look forward to for you. His brothers had noticed fairly quickly, but the Eldest would waved off their questioning. Lucifer had even begun walking to, around, and from RAD on the days Mammon didn't feel like it.

When one of them had interrogated you suddenly, you couldn't say you didn't expect it. They searched for a pact mark on your body, and questioned you about magic and curses. It took a while for it to settle into their minds that Lucifer was hanging around you of his own choice.

The Avatar of Pride had let you become close to him, and that was nothing less of an inhuman feat. Becoming a casual acquaintance of his was something hardly any demons could manage, but here you were. A human sitting together with him in the late hours of the day, dining with a fresh bottle of Demonus.

Nevertheless, you remained in your current space in his heart for a while. It was not until you had finally managed to bond with his siblings that he slowly let you through the many barriers that encased it. After the Attic incident, he spent a lot of days deep in thought. Lucifer hadn't realized the effect you seemed to have on him to its fullest extent until now, and seeing you dying in his brother's arms brought a pain to his being that he hadn't felt since the Fall and Lilith's passing.

You found yourself in his company more often than not. If you weren't hanging around his brothers and trying to repair their trust in Belphie, he was at least in the same room at all times. Upon his request, you had even slept in his room a few times. Should you have not been comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with him, he bought a futon for this explicit purpose. One that is comfy as well as enchanted, for easy storage. He'll be quite persistent on having you take the bed, but with enough pressing he'll give in. The scent of honeysuckle and lavender began to cling to every surface in his room, creating a rather soothing smell.

Even as you grew even closer, Lucifer cherished the nights you spent alone together discussing whatever you felt like. Most of the time you would lead the conversations in the stories department, seeing as you had a surplus of adventures over the years in the Human World, but he chimes in with a few of his own every now and then.

On night in particular, a memory had come to mind a little while after you had left to fetch something from the kitchen. You had just wrapped up a rather interesting story about having met a famous pianist in the past, and the memory had surfaced after you excused yourself.

"Lucifer, you simply must meet him! His tales are so enchanting and his voice! Oh his voice, big brother! It puts any lyre in Heaven to shame." Lilith swooned, her hand excitedly tugging on the Seraphim's sleeve. The Eldest brother simply smiled down at her, ruffling her hair before ushering her off. "I'm sure he's lovely, Lilith. Now, head back with Beel and Belphie soon. It's getting late, and I'd appreciate if you can make sure they both eat and sleep tonight. You know how they are some days. I'll return once Michael and I are finished here."

Lucifer recalled how he had once originally thought of the man he'd known as Lilith's crush, and later lover. Though he only knew most of the details about Mc from before secondhand, it was obvious that his sister was head-over-heels for the human. Even as an Angel, he'd pictured you quite different based off of her descriptions. While the details she had told him were most certainly true, albeit a little over the top at times, Lucifer had once viewed you as what he believed to be the perfect man for his baby sister. Perhaps it was why he felt so disappointed upon realizing your true form, realizing that you were not some idealized version of yourself he'd made up in his head all those years ago.

His thoughts slowly deteriorated into something far closer to what he'd once teased Lilith about. Simple praises fading into mentally praising nearly everything about you. Hearing footsteps approach his door snapped him out of his small daze, now fully aware of the irony of the situation. Lucifer bit back the laugh that threatened to spill from his lips, leaning back in his chair as the door creaked open.

Mammon:(I have rewritten this so many times im djefifhs)

At first, you had been quite a nuisance to the Avatar of Greed. A living being he had become tethered to, initially metaphorically but later physically. To say the least, Mammon was not exactly thrilled to be acting as your guardian. It had taken a while for him to really even notice anything off about you, as most of his thoughts towards you had been complaints.

He may have picked up on a few after forming a pact with you and helping you with a few things, but nothing that he could fully set in stone as weird or out of the ordinary. His usual crowd tended to be witches, sorcerers, demons, and the occasional human creditors, so it was hard to completely pinpoint what would be seen as abnormal human behaviors.

Before your conversation with Lucifer, Mammon had found himself feeling rather strangely about you. Despite being pretty close to a self-proclaimed Casanova, he struggled to grapple with the way he felt around you. The tightness in his chest seeing you sit closer to Beel than him, the pattering of his heart as you gave him the gentlest of friendly touches, the redness in his face at even the smallest word of praise. Seeing as he couldn't comprehend the feeling, he chose to reject it. All the while failing to notice that he still seeked it out.

Maybe if the nature of your past had been revealed to him later on, when he wasn't in such a state of emotional turmoil, he may have taken it better. Or it may have stung far worse. But what was done was done, for better or for worse.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't slightly hurt that you had not been the one to reveal it to him. Mammon would've preferred hearing it directly from you, not from another one of his brothers who happened to be close enough to overhear. Upon hearing the news, he's torn between making a beeline for you room and demanding answers or avoiding you entirely. As your Guardian slacked off from his job more and more, it became clear he chose the latter.

Any sort of progress you had made into some sort of bond with the Second Eldest brother was further back than you had started with in the first place. He once more became standoffish and brash, his holier than thou persona of the Great Mammon cranked farther past eleven. Through his external mask, you could see the fragments of hurt underneath, but that hurt faded into something more malicious.

Unless he absolutely needed to be there, he was often nowhere to be seen. A part of you missed seeing him barge into your room like an excited puppy. Still, you weren't completely lonely. It was relaxing to be in the company of the members of the Purgatory Hall. Solomon and you had actually bonded quite a bit over your similar life experiences, often spending your lunch breaks and the occasional weekend chatting and exchanging stories.

On one such occasion, Mammon happened to overhear the two of you in the common room. He hadn't meant to stick around, rather he was simply looking for where Lucifer had hid Goldie that morning. Yet, something stopped him from leaving. As he stood in the doorframe, he found himself listening intently to what you and Solomon had been discussing. Although it may have been a little invasive, perhaps it was for the best that the Avatar of Greed had chosen to be nosy.

"Ah, the tea has gone cold." Solomon chuckled, setting the cup back onto the saucer. "Have we really been talking for that long?" "So it seems. Well, it gives me an opportunity to showoff some more spells for you." You raised your eyebrows as the Sorcerer rolled up his sleeves. He uttered a few words that you recognized as Latin, loosely translating to something along the lines of "return aquatic warmth". The phrase brought a smile to your lips, catching his attention after the spell had ran its course. "Is my spellcasting that impressive, Mc?" His voice held an obvious teasing tone to it, earning a laugh from you before you gently waved him off. "It certainly is Solomon, but that's not what I was thinking of." Though he pouted at your words, he urged you to continue. "I was just thinking of how long it has been since I've heard someone speak Latin, let alone as fluently has you just did. Hell, I haven't spoken it myself in years after that brief span of time I worked as a Latin Professor in England."

"A lot of your stories revolve around that geographical location, Mc. If it's not to prying, may I ask as to why? Personally I prefer much more fair weather areas." Solomon questioned in between sips of tea. For a moment you paused, perplexed by the question. While you had visited a variety of different places all over the world, you failed to notice that most of the time you found yourself in the general area of the set of isles. "Well, the only reason that comes to mind is that I met Lilith there." You spoke after some time, unaware of the way a nearby demon perked up at the name.

The Avatar of Greed watched with bated breath, listening as you detailed how you had first met his sister. His eyes couldn't help but follow your hands as you put emphasis on certain statements, unknowingly leaning in while you continued. The way that praises fell from your lips so easily made it clear to both members of your audience that you truly loved the Angel, to such an extent that it actually reminded Mammon of her. He'd always teased Lilith in the past for how much she'd ramble on and on about just what she loved about a human male that she had met one day after sneaking away from the Celestial Realm. Despite all his teasings, he had never challenged her love and admiration for the boy she'd fallen for. Most of the time he had outright encouraged it, failing to notice just how deeply Lilith's devotion to her lover was. But hearing just how equally devoted you were to her brought forth a rather painful realization.

After the Fall, Mammon had grown to resent you. Or at least who he imagined the man that his sister started a war to save, one that she would later die in. When she'd first fallen for Mc, he'd imagine that the human would be a simple crush that she'd soon get over. Even if she had delved into a deep relationship with you, Mammon still did not believe that she would go as far as to go against their Father's wishes and mess with a human's lifespan. With grief fogging his mind, a cruel caricature formed of the man that he felt was directly responsible for the death of his little sister. His brain had latched onto this version of Mc as a form of stress relief, something to direct his frustrations towards in between caring for his brothers. Honestly, it was easier of an idea for him to deal with at the time, as most of his emotional effort went into assisting his brothers in coping with the Fall and caring for the demon birthed from the remains of smoldering wings. The idea of you being an actually decent person was often ignored, pressed to the back of his mind.

Yet, you were nothing like he had imagined. Kind, caring, devoted, and many more words described you far better than what Mammon had portrayed you as. Once the secret of your past had been revealed, he'd once more thought you to be the selfish being he had once believed you to be. But still, you remained the same person he had originally formed a pact with. In that moment a deep feeling of regret settled inside of him, for not only his actions but the way he had always thought of you.

"Mammon? What are you doing here?" You voice shattered his train of thought. Looking into your worried eyes, he suddenly realized just how close he was to you and Solomon. While he had been deep in thought, somewhere along the line he had begun drawing closer and closer to the couch that the two of you sat on. In his current position he had been nearly breathing down your neck, and though his sudden closeness did startle you, the troubled look in his eyes kept you from acting out of fear. Instead of responding, the demon instead began to stutter with a flushed face before scurrying off. "He's been there for a good 30 minutes now, you know. He was just standing in the doorway before."

The day after that night, you were suddenly overcome with the feeling of being followed. The sensation only faded when your Guardian demon was beside you, an event that had become more and more frequent. Though not an immediate process, you found Mammon at your side more and more often. This was not limited to the times that you were outside of the safety of HOL either. Even inside the house you found him seeking you out, giving a half baked excuse with a red face when you asked about the reasoning behind his sudden clinginess. You were aware that he had overheard you speaking about Lilith the other night, but it was surprising to see the sort of affect that it had on him.

Mammon wasn't incredibly quick to ease back into the way you would be around each other before, but it wasn't awfully long until he was once more glued to your hip. Actually, he was a lot more glued to your hip than before, putting in the effort to keep true to what he had promised you. A part of you wished his other brothers could have been there when Leviathan and Lucifer nearly had a heart attack seeing Mammon become so alert and protective of you.

While you hadn't received a proper apology from the demon, he was definitely acting far sweeter than before. It seemed that Mammon was more of the "actions speak louder than words" type. If you had seen something you wanted, it wasn't long before in ended up somewhere in your bedroom. Needed someone to come with you to something? Mammon is at your side in an instant. A lot of his "tsundere" personality is somewhat toned down a good bit, still sorta there but not as strong as it had been after you'd first made a pact.

Something he'd also become fond of was taking you with him on late night drives. While his brothers may have complained about the loud noises so late in the day, especially Asmo and Luci, they eventually gave up on reprimanding the two of you. Most of the time Mammon would just drive until either you fell asleep or he grew tired, but occasionally he would take you out to quiet spots where you could see the stars. On those nights, Mammon would wait for you to fall asleep before scooting close and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Though you may not have been awake to hear it, it brought him some form of solace to whisper words of adoration and a promise of protection into your ear as you slept.

Alas, he had failed you once again as a result of his brothers' scheme to bring you and Lucifer closer. The pure agony in the sobs that shook his form were potent, enough to make Belphegor at least pause his chaotic laughter at your dying body in Mammon's arms. Mammon had not cried as hard as he did that night since the Fall, and the sound of his pained wails brought back heart-wrenching memories of his smoldering wings and bloodied face. He was only somewhat soothed as you managed to come back to life, pitiful wails dying down into loud sobs while he buried his face into your chest. The sound of your beating heart and flowery smell soothed him to sleep that night, the only thing allowing him a peaceful sleep.

Mammon quickly went from glued to your side to attached at the hip. If you were going somewhere he insisted on accompanying you or at least making you take one of his brothers with you. He settled down a good month after the Attic incident, trusting you to call upon him should you need him. You even have a custom ringtone on his D.D.D. that's louder than any of his other contacts. One time you had called to ask him about something and stubbed your toe in the middle of conversation. The noise of pain alerted him and he threw the phone aside and began dashing to your location. The second he saw you, he hurried over and began checking for any injuries.

One night, Mammon fully recognized just how devoted he had suddenly became to you. Fond memories of how Lilith used to speak about you came to mind as the two of you sat together, watching a movie in his room. He could no longer focus on it, despite the amount of explosions and special effects, instead lost in thought while running his hands through your hair. A soft smile crossed his face as he looked at you, the glow of the TV seeming highlighting you in a way that made you look ethereal. He wanted nothing more in that moment to snuggle into your exposed neck, but you had caught onto his staring too soon. He'd simply have to wait until he either had another lucky moment or he gained the courage to actually confess the feelings he held towards you.

Leviathan:

Leviathan wasn't exactly suspicious of you before or after the formation of your pact. You were just some random normie to him at first, but a random normie he could use to get his money back from Mammon. He had begun to view you as a sort of friend after sealing the deal with you, someone to spend time with him despite his tendency to get carried away while talking. While he didn't spend as much time with you as his brothers did, which was mostly his own fault, Levi still enjoyed your company.

It would be a lie to say that he didn't feel some excitement whenever you would accept his offers of bingeing anime or a video game marathon, to the point that he'd began thinking about buying a few things to keep in his room to make you feel more at home. A decent handful of Human World or Human-safe Devildom snacks were in his Akuzon cart, alongside a few custom gaming things. Levi had held off on actually purchasing these products though, as he didn't want to come off too strong and weird you out. The two of you had just recently became friends, so you hadn't fully set boundaries with each other yet.

It's fairly likely that he's the last of the brothers to actually find out about your past. He probably wasn't in the same room when you had pulled Lucifer away for a chat, nor was he aware of the word spreading around the house about you. Watching his brothers suddenly distance themselves from you confused him, especially when Mammon refused to be in the same room as you. He had continued interacting with you as normal, deciding to just ask you or one of his brothers about it later.

You happened to get to him first about it, on a day that he had made plans for both of you to watch a recent anime that he'd been keeping an eye on for months. In the days leading up to the release, he'd been excitedly telling you all the details that he knew from the manga it was based off of as well as some of the leaked promotional art, with you giving your own personal input. Underneath the dim lights of his room, you and Levi sat through some commercials as you waited for the show to start. It was then he had brought up the question, and although you were nervous to tell him, you felt it best not to keep him in the dark. Plus, it felt better to tell him yourself rather than one of the others telling him.

Though you tried to go about the topic of your past in the gentlest way possible, finding out who you actually were still upset him greatly. When he shifted into his demon form you were worried he might've attacked you again, but he simply began to sulk on the floor and tell you to leave. Reaching out to him to offer some comfort only upset him more, and once he started hissing you took it as your queue to leave.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was more mad about, the fact that you were Mc, the same one his sister loved, or that you had been lying to him about your true self. Truthfully, he felt betrayed by the whole situation. He may not be the best with friendships, but he felt hurt that you didn't confide in him first. Both before and after the Fall he had not had much of an opinion on the boy that Lilith had fallen in love with, but the Envy that coursed through his veins suddenly brought forth a resentment he had never held before.

No matter what form Leviathan had taken over the years, whether it be an Angel or Demon, he'd always found himself in a high ranking military position. Once the intial years of morning had passed, Levi had accepted the role of the General of Hell's Navy. In a way, it helped him ease into being a demon better than the time he spent locked away in his room. While he wasn't always actively commanding, most of the time that wasn't spent on his interests was spent training or strategizing. He didn't really have time to dwell on his thoughts on you.

Yet, as the feelings of Envy and years of painful memories clashed together in his mind, an unfamiliar rage filled him. He too began avoiding you and would yell at you to go away if you asked to come into his room. You came to realize that if you wanted to try and fix things with him, you'd likely need to catch him when he was outside of his room. Thus, you hatched a plan to draw him out slowly.

Though he was one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, it was rare to catch the Avatar of Envy out and about in town. Unless he had to go grocery shopping, Levi would only be seen out of the house whenever an important anime or game event was happening. This day in particular happened to be the release of a new game that he'd been looking forward to for years now, eagerly watching the development from the posts of the team's official Devilgram.

By the time he had got there the line was already fairly long, making the demon slightly nervous. Sure, he could always get a copy later, but these specific copies from this specific store were incredibly special in comparison to the other ones. They were limited edition copies that came with all of the DLC, as well as a figurine of the main character and a few replicas of in-game items. He'd tried to arrive as early as possible since the store had placed a rule against camping outside the entrance for a set amount of time, but he was held up by one of Lucifer's lectures regarding his grades on Seductive Speechcraft. Arguing with him or trying to escape would've only made him sit and listen to Lucifer for longer, so he begrudgingly sat through his older brother's lecturing and ran out the door once he was finished.

The line itself was full of a bunch of different types of demons, some of them being people he recognized from the Navy or a few of the Devildom's conventions. The other people were not as rowdy as he expected, but seeing as the doors wouldn't open for another hour they likely wouldn't be worked up by now. Seeing as he was going to be there for a while and didn't really have any desire to chat with those around him, he decided to pull out his Demontendo Switch and play some Devil Crossing.

Halfway through planting a new tulip garden, the line began to fill with chatter around him. Checking the time confirmed that it was about 5 minutes until the doors would open, so he was quick to save his game and prepare for the inevitable rush to get inside. As much as the owners of the shop would've liked there to be a calm, single file line, demons tended to be rather unpredictable. Leviathan still remembered the day of the most recent "The Seven Lords" release, after a Wrath demon ended up in quite a scuffle with a Greed demon over the last copy. It was rather likely that something similar would happen again, since the limited edition copies were so, well, limited.

When the doors finally opened, everyone rushed inside as expected. Levi had memorized the location of the display that would hold what he was looking for a few days prior to release, so he eagerly weaved in and out of the crowd to get to it. Yet, upon reaching the display, he was met with a sight that at first disappointed him, and then confused him. The shelves had been completely empty by the time he reached it, but as an envious rage began to stir within him he found an odd sight at the far end of the display. He hadn't expected to see you here of all places, let alone crouched so low to the floor in front of a rather pissed looking demon. Levi couldn't see exactly what you were holding onto, but over the chatter of the other customers he could make out that you had something that the demon in front of you wanted.

Getting closer, he was surprised to see a small pool of red beginning to stain the yellow carpet below you. Were you bleeding? Did the demon attack you? While he still didn't want to be around you all that much, he knew an awful punishment would be awaiting him should he let you get yourself killed over whatever you were so latched onto. He thought the demon would've put up more of a fight when he loomed over both of you in his Demon form, but they simply scurried away in fear. You slowly uncurled yourself to look at your savior, locking eyes with the otaku you hadn't seen in weeks. "Hey Levi! Thanks for the help." Levi cringed a little at the way you smiled up at him, bleeding heavily from your nose and acting like it wasn't there. Once you finally stood up and turned around, he saw what you had been practically guarding with your life. The box set of the limited edition copy he had been looking for was clutched closely to your chest, albeit with a few droplets of blood smeared across the surface.

"I'd say that I didn't expect to see you here, but to be honest I did. I was just hoping that I would've got in and out before you got here." You confessing, rubbing the back of your neck in an embarrassed manner. "Why? So you could buy the game before I could?" His tone made you flinch for a moment, but you continued to keep your pleasant composure. "I'll explain soon, just wait for me outside, okay?" "...Fine."

After a couple of minutes you met up with him outside, the box cleaned of crimson droplets and your nose thoroughly cleaned but still bruised. "Sorry about the wait, Miss Honey wouldn't let me leave before she took care of my whole broken nose thing." You chuckled nervously. "Miss Honey?" Levi mused in an uncouth manner. "Ah, yeah. She's the owner of the shop. I worked part time here for a bit and sorta became friends with her? Miss Honey is an older lady, so she doesn't have many people to talk to besides her grandkids when they visit. But, enough about that. Here." Eagerly, you presented the box to him. He raised an eyebrow at you, analyzing the situation before quickly snatching up the box. Levi found no sort of damages to the box and all of the collectables were inside, confirming to him that you weren't pulling some trick on him. "I was gonna just leave it in front of your door with a note, but since you're here now I might as well give it to you." "Why are you giving this to me? Do you want something?" It was understandable that he thought you may have had ulterior motives, but you didn't take it personally. "Oh, no no! I just remembered that you said you were really looking forward to this game so I wanted to get it for you. Miss Honey let me line up in front early so I would have a better chance at getting it." "I... I... uhm." "Well, I'll see you back at the House of Lamentation. I'm feeling a little lightheaded."

It took Leviathan a bit to come to terms with what he had just witnessed. You had gotten into a fight with a demon that could very well kill you, only to give him the very thing that you had been fighting to keep. Memories of you smiling yet bloodied face came to mind every time he looked at the box, and he couldn't bring himself to open it up and play the game he'd been waiting so long for. He fully expected you to demand some sort of favor in return for the game, but you never did. The most you had mentioned anything about it was when you asked him if he was enjoying the game while he escorted you around RAD in Mammon's place.

Similar to Mammon, he preferred to ease into being around you. Lingering in the same room at a distance, only closing the gap when he felt more comfortable in your general vicinity. You remained patient with him, allowing him to inch closer and closer at his own pace. The biggest step he had taken with you was inviting you into the common room to watch the anime from before, muttering something about never getting around to watching the show and you had already wanted to watch it with him anyway.

He had never been too comfortable with touching before you had confessed to him about your past, but something in him made him want to bring you physically closer to him. Butterflies filled his stomach as his pinkie crossed over yours one night and you made no move to pull away, instead linking yours with his.

Only after the Attic incident did he allow you back into his room, and if he was being honest he never wanted you to leave once you entered. You allow him to coddle you, the upset expression he gave you when you tried to do things on your own too heartbreaking to bear. Want something to eat or drink? He just so happens to have some Human food here, let him get you some. Bored? Come out of the bedtub and play some games or what some anime with him. Just make sure you grab the Henry controller and headphones. Lucifer had to fight quite a bit with Levi to get him to let you go so you could attend RAD. Even so, Leviathan attended more in person classes just to be around you. With how much he followed after you like a lost puppy, he was beginning to make Mammon jealous.

On nights that you've fallen asleep in his room and he's left alone with his thoughts, his mind sometimes drifts to Lilith. He never had time as an Angel or Demon to dwell too much on his sister's praises of you, but as the memories returned to him he couldn't help but smile. "I've never met a man as sweet as Mc. Not even an Angel could compare to how kind he is. He's such a massive sweetheart." Lilith had swooned one night in a conversation with Belphegor. His eyes drifted towards your sleeping form, focusing on the fantasy amulet hung around your neck. The same one that had come in the box set you'd given him. "You are a sweetheart, huh?" "...What was that Levi?" ".......aaaaAAAAAAA"

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

(I woulda posted this sooner but I was uhm, as the cool kids say, "Hungover as fuck" multiple times) (I only drink on holidays lmaoo my alcohol tolerance is shit)

#obey me lucifer #obey me fic #obey me mammon #omswd #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me x male reader #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer x male reader #obey me mammon x male reader #obey me leviathan x male reader

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

just my type (spencer reid/reader)

Title: just my type

Request: kinda, not really

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (daddy kink, loss of virginity (reader), praise, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, after sex cockwarming, groping, heavy petting, tipsy sex, innocence kink, hair pulling, crying during sex (but the VERY end)), dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, Professor!Reid, age gap, aftercare, swearing, drinking, making out in public places, incredibly brief mention of necrophilia, mentions of absent father, ooc!spencer, professor/student, brief mention of drinks being drugged (not actually happening)

Word Count: 8,194

Summary: Reader sleeps with a man she met at the bar. The next day she finds out that man was her new professor, Spencer Reid...

A/N: this was writing for pom’s discord server fic swap! My partner doesn’t have tumblr, but their wattpad is babyleaf1! I took a few of her favorite tropes and prompts she likes and came up with this! It’s loosely based off the song campus by vampire weekend. Spencer and reader’s ages are undefined, but there is a gap between the two. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Going to the bar wasn’t exactly my scene. Sure, it was nice to kick back and have a drink after a long day. I’d rather be at home with a glass of wine and watching a movie. But when a friend I haven’t seen in a long time asks to go to the bar, I’m gonna go to the bar with her.

My eyes scanned the crowded room, searching for my friend who was no doubt already drinking. The room was filled with drunk people. I didn’t expect so many people to be drinking on a Tuesday night… who am I to judge though?

When I finally saw my friend, I rushed to her. She was sitting at the bar with a drink already in hand. I wondered how many drinks she had before I arrived.

The moment I appeared by her side, she let out an excited squeal before throwing her arms around my body.

“It’s so nice seeing you!” she squealed into my ears. I laughed as I carefully pushed her off my body, and tried to regain some personal space. “It’s been so long!”

“Yeah, yeah. Been busy. School and stuff starts this week.” I nervously laughed as I sat down on the stool beside her. She leaned over the bar as she called for the bartender.

“That’s right! School!” she exclaimed as she looked back at me. I looked away from the bartender and at my friend. “That’ll be fun!” she added, trying to sound excited, but epically failing.

“I sure hope it’ll be fun…. But it’s hard to say. You know, college,” I chuckled and looked down at the counter. The bartender placed the two drinks on the counter, pushing them towards us. My eyes widened once I saw the brightness of the drink. The brightness of the liquid was unnatural. So of course I was going to drink it. What’s the worst that could happen?

A couple hours had passed and the conversations between us seemed to flow fluidly. I was thanking God that that was the case because I don’t think I could do awkward drinks. I like to think I was concentrating on her and her words pretty well.

And then he happened.

A man walked up to the bar and looked right at the bartender. He held up one finger as he sat down behind my friend. He had an exhausted look in his eyes, which were hidden behind shaggy brown hair. Suddenly my concentration was out the window and I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. My friend definitely noticed too, but thankfully she didn’t comment on it.

Then he looked over at me, and I was met with honeyed hazel eyes. They were more intoxicating than my drink. A small smile grew on his lips when he realized he captured the attention from someone.

I just assumed he would have gotten his drink and returned to wherever he was sitting. But I was so wrong. Maybe the bar counter was where he was sitting and he just got here...

“So… What’s your type?” my friend asked, looking over at me with a small smile on her lips. I struggled to look away from the attractive man sitting just behind her. It was a relief when his gaze dropped from mine when my friend asked the question. But a small smirk grew on his lips as he, and my friend, waited for my answer.

“I… I, uh,” I finally looked away from him and down at my drink. The two black stir straws leaned against the glass, and I realized that I should probably stop drinking soon. My face grew really hot, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol I had consumed, or the thought of telling my friend my type in men I’m interested in, or even worse… That the type of guy I’m interested in standing right behind her…

“C’mon, can’t be that bad… Unless you’re like… A necrophiliac,” she laughed as she leaned closer to my body. I moved away from her before looking back at the man behind her. He was looking back at me, an amused smile on his lips. “Well,” she asked, slipping closer to me. I locked eyes on the man before licking my lips lightly.

“Older…” I made sure to be loud enough that I knew he would hear. I watched as he choked on his drink before looking over at me.

“Ooo! Girl,” my friend exclaimed as she moved closer to me, “How scandalous,” she whispered as she wrapped an arm around me, “How old are we talking?” she looked up at me. Her eyes were glossy, and I knew there was no winning this one.

“Is this really a conversation we… we should be having?” I asked, my voice shaky as I spoke. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“We talkin’ old enough to be ya daddy… if ya know what I mean,” she mused as she began falling into my body. The man behind her looked over at me, his smile telling me he was clearly listening in to our conversation. And he obviously enjoyed what was happening in front of him.

“Ye-No!” I cut myself off with a shout, “No! Not at all!” I continued, backing away from her body. I couldn’t tell if I was being serious or not, and something was telling me my friend and the man didn’t believe me either. “Wh-why are you suddenly…” I let my words trail off as my train of thought suddenly vanished.

“Because… You’re young, you’re single… And you’re… you know…” this time it was her words trailing off. I looked at her with wide eyes, my face getting hot again. “A virgin,” she said in a normal tone, even though I think she thought she was whispering. The man behind her choked on his drink again before slowly turning to face me and my friend.

“Will you shut up?” I whispered as I tore my eyes off the man and looked down at my friend. She sat back in her seat as she looked at me with a smile.

“OH!” she shouted as she looked down at her drink. She slammed the rest of it in one go before standing up, “I have to pee! Stay here! If I’m not back in 10 minutes, assume I went off with that hot guy.” She slipped off her chair before pointing somewhere in the bar. I looked over my shoulder and at a group of guys who were closer to our age than the guy behind her.

“O-okay,” my words stumbled as I carefully pushed her body off mine. I held back my chuckle as she stumbled away from me and towards the bathroom.

I turned back to the counter, my head dropping so I was looking at my drink. My fingers fiddled with the straws as I waited for my friend to return. The bright blue liquid sitting with ice wasn’t as good as it looked. Which was very unfortunate because I’ve had maybe two of them… Working on my third...

“Your friend… She’s rather excitable,” someone spoke from beside me. The seat my friend was once sitting in was now occupied by the man who sat beside her. I perked up and looked away from my drink. He was hunched over the bar, holding a small glass with an amber liquid.

I didn’t realize I was staring at him till he cleared his throat and looked back at me. I jumped, looking down at the bar. I didn’t exactly know how to respond to him, words not coming from my mouth properly as I struggled to speak. So, I shrugged and stared at him.

“Y-yeah, yeah she’s like that… Especially when she’s drunk… She doesn’t know how to hold her booze,” I laughed as I lifted my drink to my lips. I searched for the two mixer straws with my mouth, closing my eyes before taking a sip. “Y-you didn’t hear anything she said,” I asked, my words slurring slightly from nervousness, "Did you?" I added as I leaned on the counter. The man looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, erm,” he looked back down at his drink, not directly answering my question. I sighed deeply as I planted my face into my hand, leaning against the bar.

“She was being really loud,” I laughed as slowly slipped off my stool and into his body, “Oh, sorry.” I looked up at him as I held onto his arm, “I think I should stop drinking,” I laughed as I recollected myself and moved away from the stranger’s body.

“It’s okay.” The man looked at me, helping me get back on my seat, “I’m going to get you water.” He looked between me and the bartender.

“Listen, listen, yeah, whatever, like so what, I’m still a virgin… I just have my bar set way too high for men,” I started as I turned to face him, “I should lower that bar and my standards,” I mumbled as I leaned against the counter. The man looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. Why did I think my friend would be embarrassing to me when I can just do it myself?

“Definitely getting you water,” he laughed. After a moment of silence, the bartender placed two glasses of water on the counter in front of me and the stranger. The man looked over at me before pushing the glass closer to me. “Drink it, you’ll feel better,”

“Is it safe, right? Like…” I let my words trail off, hoping he’d clue into my worries. He looked at me with raised brows, like what I had said was absurd that I would even suggest something like that.

“It’s safe… just water and ice,” he returned, his tone telling me he was mildly offended that I'd think he drugged water. But to be fair, he's a random stranger in the bar, talking to a girl who's had a few drinks.

“Thanks,” I muttered before lifting the glass to my lips. The icy coolness of the water hit my lips and tongue and I already felt a million times better. I couldn’t help but let out a pleased hum.

“Spencer... by the way,” the man finally introduced himself to me. I swallowed roughly as I looked up at him. My eyebrows knit together as I stared at him, my words tumbling from my mouth as I introduced myself.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking around the semi-filled room of drunken adults.

“After work drinks,” he spoke softly. He didn’t sound too enthused by after work drinks. Part of me wondered why that was… Maybe all his friends ditched him too.

“Sounds boring,” I laughed as I looked back at him, “My friend wanted to get drinks… But she wanted to catch up and to… Well, just drink,” I sighed as I leaned my entire body against the counter, “As you can see, she ditched me… Like always,” I scoffed before looking over at where my friend actually was. She was standing beside the cute guy, leaning close to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d be gone with him the next time I looked over at her.

“Maybe it’s your turn to leave her at the bar.” Spencer watched as I lifted the glass of water back to my mouth. I nearly spat water all over the place with his words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as I moved my chair closer to him. He seemed content with where I was sitting, and how close I was to him. To be honest, I wished I could be closer to him.

“Could mean anything you wanted it to mean,” he replied with a shrug. I stared at him for a moment, slowly leaning closer to him, but not getting too close.

“You’re right.” I smiled as I stared at him. He looked away from his drink and nodded. “Like going home before her to go to bed early.” I laughed. Spencer returned the laughter and shook his head.

“If that’s what you want it to mean,” he smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

“Nah, I don’t think I wanna go home yet,” I sighed, resting my head on my fist, and my elbow on the bar counter. We both stayed quiet for a moment, letting the silence carry our “conversation”.

“So… Older men…?” Spencer asked after the long silence. He looked down at me with a smug smile. I froze in my seat, my eyes on the glass of, now, ice in front of me.

“You did hear that conversation,” I lazily laughed as I looked up at him. I couldn’t help but nibble lightly on my lower lip as I looked at him. “Nah…” I looked up at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Spencer looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and a sly smirk. “Maybe… Possibly… Definitely older men…” My head fell back in laughter. Spencer kept his eyes on me and his smile grew more amused than smug.

Spencer definitely met my standards in men. He seemed to be older than me, I wasn’t exactly willing to question that though. There was a certain… gentlemanly-ness to him that I infinitely enjoyed. He was definitely not like any other guy I’ve talked to. And he 100% wasn’t some 20-something-year-old guy who claims he has all the experience in the world but doesn’t. Spencer seemed very experienced, in what? Well, everything I guess. I could just sense it by the way he talked to me and the way he held himself.

“My last boyfriend was 10 years older than me, and the one before that was 7 years older…” I paused, staring at him. I wondered what he was thinking, and if he was thinking what everyone thinks… ‘This girl has totally got daddy issues.’ “I don’t have daddy issues,” I rolled my eyes as I gravitated closer to his body. I looked up at Spencer, my hand falling to rest on his thigh as I moved closer to him. His body tensed slightly at my touch. I felt a little bad at first, but when I went to move my hand, he stopped me. His hand reaching out to grab my wrist.

“Even if you did, I don’t think that would influence your taste in men.” He looked down at me. It was then did I realize just how close our faces were to each other.

“That’s good to hear because most people just automatically assume that I have daddy issues,” I murmured as I looked between his lips and eyes, “Although… It’s just a lie… I tell myself that because people always say women with daddy issues are sluts… But I’m not…” I whispered as I slowly moved closer to him.

“I didn’t think that,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, “And I’ve known you for all of 45 minutes,” he laughed as he removed his hand from my wrist.

“Good,” I laughed lightly. “Can I kiss you?” my voice was a murmur as I looked into his eyes. Spencer licked his lips before parting them slightly. He didn’t seem too shocked or taken aback by my proposition. But when he spoke he was a little… nervous.

“If… If that’s what you want,” he whispered as he looked at me. I took a deep breath, my hand resting on his leg shifting a bit as I moved closer to him. Spencer took a shaky breath as I looked up at him.

“Do you want it?”

“I… I’d be lying if I said no, but I don’t want to take advantage of a woman under the influence,”

“It’s what I want,” I leaned even closer, not even an inch between us. I could feel his breath through my nose, that’s how close we are. “And I’m not under the influence,” I spoke, losing my confidence with each word. It was also an obvious lie too. We both knew how many drinks I had. “I’ve had two glasses of water and a handful of bar nuts, and it’s been like an hour since my last drink. I’m okay,” I whispered as I leaned totally on him.

Spencer looked down at me, his face still as his eyes examined my face. He slowly brought a hand up to my face, resting it gently under my chin. I smiled, feeling my face heat up again. When he squinted his eyes, I felt my heart rate spike.

“Please,” I begged. The bar and world around me simply vanished as I became so involved with Spencer and everything about him. In that moment, I was obsessed with him. “Kiss me,”

Spencer let out a soft breath of air from his lips before pressing them to mine. If the cool water didn’t sober me up, this kiss sure did. But at the same time, it was so intoxicating. Sure I’ve kissed men before, but this time it was… Different. Something else was going to happen tonight, with Spencer. But I couldn’t exactly place what it was that was going to happen.

My free hand lifted from its place beside me and went to his head, my fingers getting tangled in his hair. My other hand stayed put on his thigh, my grip slowly hardening on his leg. I tried to be quiet as a moan came from me, but I obviously failed. Spencer moaned right back into my mouth. I suppose I was happy he didn’t have an issue with our volume. Thank God the music was loud enough to drown us out.

When I pulled away from him, I nearly fell into the bar. Thankfully Spencer looked at me, his hand going to my hip to keep me from crashing into the counter. I looked up at him, taking a deep breath to get my head clear. But it was hard when I went back to him, my arms wrapping around his neck as my lips crashed back into his.

Spencer’s hands moved quickly over my back, resting on my hips, lower back. Anywhere he could reach, he would touch. He turned more to face me, allowing me to stand between his legs.

“We… We should stop… Before one of us does something we’ll… We’ll regret,” he whispered softly. Spencer pressed his forehead to mine as he spoke. I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling quickly.

“No… No, we shouldn’t.” I looked up at him, my hands getting knotted up in his hair again. Spencer looked at me, a certain softness on his face. “I think… You… You meet my standards, Spencer.” I blinked at him.

Spencer quickly looked over at the bartender before fumbling for his wallet. I looked at him, watching him pull out more money than needed and shoving it in the bartender’s hands. He looked back at me, wrapping an arm around my waist and guiding me out. I smiled as Spencer dragged me out of the bar.

For the first time ever, I was leaving the bar before my friend… And I didn’t care about her.

Spencer looked back at me as we stepped outside and the semi-cool air of the night felt really good against my hot skin. Inside I almost couldn’t breathe, but outside it felt like it just came to me. It was so… refreshing.

I didn’t realize Spencer had called a taxi till he was pulling me to the vehicle. I looked up at him, blinking slowly as he pulled the car door open. Swallowing down the sudden excitement and fear mixture, I slid into the taxi before him.

I wasn’t scared because I was having sex for the first time. No, I was scared that I was going home with a strange man. Anything could happen, honestly. What if he was a murderer?

“Where to?” The taxi driver looked up in the rearview mirror at me and Spencer. I was the quickest to talk, giving him my address before Spencer could give his.

Spencer glanced at me, watching as I nervously played with the hem of my dress. When I glanced at him, I noticed that he was turned to face me more, whereas I was still, facing the seat in front of me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft. I moved my head a little too fast as I looked at him.

“Mm, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve never done something like this before, that’s all,” I whispered, looking at him as I bit my lower lip. Spencer nodded as he looked at me, watching as I shifted closer to him.

“We don’t… We don’t have to…” Spencer started but stopped when I maneuvered to straddle his legs. He looked up at me as he carefully rested his hands on my hips. I swallowed roughly as I looked down at him. My hands pressed to his chest to hold myself upright, and my head occasionally hitting the roof of the taxi with every bump we went over.

“I know... I know we don’t have to do anything…” My heart slamming in my chest as I stared at him. I moved my hands from his chest to gently cup his face. His cheeks were stubbly, prickling at the palms of my hands as I held his face. With one final deep breath of air, I pressed my lips to his, this time a lot more passionately than before.

Spencer pressed his lips down my face, and neck while his hands roamed my body. My hands stayed planted on his face, keeping me in place over his body. I was so into him just… touching me that I didn’t even realize his hand had slipped in the front of my dress. His fingers gently stroking the skin on my inner thigh.

My head fell to the side as he pressed his lips down my neck more before going towards my chest. A huff of air came from my lungs as I pushed my hands through his hair.

“Uh… We’re, uh… at your destination…” The poor taxi driver spoke from his spot in the front. I moved Spencer’s head away from my body and I looked down at him.

“You… you pay him.” I stared down at him, feeling a certain embarrassment grow in my stomach, and across my face. Spencer quickly fumbled for his wallet before pulling out more money than necessary and tossing it to the driver. After he shoved his wallet back into his pocket, he wrapped his arms around my waist before exiting the taxi. A squeal came from my mouth as he carried me out of the vehicle and towards my complex.

“Spencer!” I screamed as my arms wrapped around his neck. A dizzying feeling took me over as a hard bulge pressed between my legs. I almost couldn’t hold back a moan.

He laughed before putting his lips back on my neck, nipping lightly on the sensitive skin. And I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, almost a whimper.

“Keys,” Spencer muttered into my neck. I took a deep breath, my chest pressing into his body more.

“Unlocked,” I gasped as he nipped my neck again. He hummed as he opened the door and entered my home. He put my back down once we were inside, door shut and locked. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall towards my bedroom.

Spencer pushed the door shut and pressed me against it, pressing his lips to mine like I was the last woman on earth. His arms were propped up on either side of my head, blocking me between the door and his body. It’s a good thing I didn’t feel trapped because I otherwise wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.

My breathing picked up when he pressed his hips against me. A pit grew in my stomach, and I couldn’t tell if it was actually anxiety or excitement. I was willing to bet it was both.

As the anxiety slowly melted away, a new feeling took over. A feeling of want and hunger. It was the type of feeling that could be satisfied by another person, or by my own doing. But, I knew I wanted it from Spencer. I needed it from Spencer.

“I need to feel something,” I whimpered against his lips as he pinned me against the door, “Please, I need to feel you.” My leg wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to me. I almost couldn’t breathe, my excitement getting the better of me.

Spencer looked down at me, a hand slowly coming up to my face, resting gently on my cheek. My eyes blinked slowly as he examined my face. I wondered what he was thinking, and if they were good thoughts. I only wondered what he thought because of how he looked at me. His features were soft and gentle like he was a child holding a fluffy, white dandelion. But the way his eyes moved across my face… They were hungry. Unlike his soft facial features, his eyes wanted to destroy everything in sight…

And I liked it. It should have scared me, right? A man looking at me like he was about to destroy my life… But the way he did it… I liked...

While he kept one hand on my face, his other hand was high on my upper thigh. His thumb carefully moving back and forth on the soft skin. I wonder if he knew how desperate I was beginning to feel. And he only fueled my desperation the further up his hand traveled.

A sharp gasp fell from my mouth as his hand finally moved against my underwear. His fingers were gentle as they ghosted over me. I wondered if he could feel how aroused I was through my underwear. Probably, it was impossible to hide that…

The way his hands touched me and held me was weird. He was still gentle, but there was a certain hastiness to it that I noticed. Like he was trying to claim something that wasn’t his.

“Please,” I whimpered as he trailed kisses down my neck. My chest began heaving as he began tracing his finger over my underwear. Okay, now he had to know how desperate I was. Spencer groaned once he pressed his lips back to mine.

“You’re so wet, Princess,” he whispered as his hand on my face fell to my chin. Another gasp came from me at the pet name. He took the opportunity to pull on my lower lip with his teeth. “I’ve hardly done anything,” he moved his head away from me and smiled, “Hardly touched you at all.”

I looked up at him, my lower lip pouted out slightly. It was hard to say what his next action was, but I heavily anticipated it. He smiled softly as his thumb pulled down my lower lip. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I yelped when he pushed my underwear to the side, and carefully slipped a finger between my folds.

Spencer looked down at me with a pleased smile. It was clear to me that he enjoyed my struggle. I placed my hands on his arms to keep myself up. And even though my body was pressed against the door, and I braced myself against him, my knees still wanted to give out.

I’ve never had another person touch me like this before. My previous relationships didn’t last long enough for them to do something like this. And, I’ve never exactly had this feeling before. Well, let me rephrase that, I have felt this feeling before. I’ve never felt this way from another person. I’ve masturbated before, after all I’m lonely, not Catholic. But, the feeling happening because someone else is causing it.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Spencer whispered as he slowly pressed a finger into me. I looked up at him and nodded as I pressed my lips together. “Use your words,”

“Yes, it feels so good… s’good, Daddy,” I whimpered as I looked at him. I swear I saw the corner of his lips twitched slightly. Did my title for him do to him what it did to me? It was obvious he liked it.

Spencer stared at me for a moment before harshly pressing his lips back to mine. It felt as if he was taking the breath right from my lungs with everything he was doing. His hand between my legs moved a little faster, my hips grinding down on him in reaction.

“Say it again,” he murmured against my lips. The way he moved his face caused our noses to squish together. My heart was slamming in my chest and I could hear it in my head. It felt like at any moment it’d break out of me.

I softly yelped when he carefully inserted a second finger in me. His pace quickened slightly and I couldn’t concentrate on anything.

A tension grew in the pit of my belly, and slowly grew as the seconds ticked by. I wasn’t sure how long I’d make it till the tension cracked. I wondered if Spencer sensed that too.

I removed my hands from his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him closer to me. It was so hard to hold back the soft whimpers and moans I was feeling getting trapped in my throat. Although, Spencer seemed to enjoy my struggle.

It became more of a struggle the stronger the tension grew. It was close too.

“Say it again.”

“I’m s’close, Daddy,” I whined, my head involuntarily falling to my shoulder. Spencer looked down at me before moving to press his lips to my neck. His lips attaching to the base of my throat before sucking gently on the sensitive skin.

Again my body reacted by trying to get closer to him. The closer I got to him, the faster he went. I could tell that he was trying to bring me closer to the edge, to finish the moment.

“Let go, it’s okay,” Spencer whispered. I swallowed roughly, my head falling forward onto his shoulder before my body slowly fell into his. It was hard not to stay quiet, my sounds getting louder as I finally finished.

I stayed against his body, trying to recollect my breathing for a moment. Spencer rested a hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles on my shoulder. And after I had my moment, I stood back up, leaning against the door behind me.

Spencer looked back at me as he pulled his hand out from my underwear. He looked down at his hand, more specifically the two fingers he just had in me. I nearly lost my balance again when he put those exact fingers in his mouth. And it didn’t help at all when he moaned.

“You did so good, Princess.” He looked at me with a soft smile. Part of me was worried that was all we were going to do. Sure it was nice, but that was that the end of it?

He cupped my face again before pressing his lips back to mine. His arms were wrapped around my body before he led me towards my bed. But I didn’t realize we were going to my bed till the edge of it hit the back of my knees.

A breath of air was knocked from my lungs the second my back collided with my bed. I looked up at Spencer, watching as he fought to take his jacket off. But when he finally did get it off, he was back over my body, his lips on mine while his hands roamed my body. My fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and his hands were pushing up my dress. His touch was like wildfire across my body, and it felt near impossible to breathe.

“Please, Spencer,” I whimpered as his lips reattached to my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as he gently sucked a spot on the base of my neck. His hands pushed the top of my dress down, making it sit around my hips.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he spoke against my skin.

"You… I just need you…"

It was really… strange. I had just met him not more than 2 hours ago… and I couldn't get enough of him. Even though I knew this would be the only time I'd ever see him, I never wanted the moment to end. I needed him more than I needed air, it felt like. I needed the night to last as long as possible.

Spencer looked down at me for a moment before getting off the bed. I had to hold back my laughter as he struggled to take his pants off. And after throwing his shirt to the ground, he was back over me, his body between my legs. My chest tightened, and at the same time, my heart sped.

I tried not looking further than his neck. But it was so hard. Did I want to see what he looked like before anything happened? Or would it make me want to back out?

I shouldn’t look...

“Will it hurt?” I brought my eyes to look up at him. I wasn’t exactly scared. I was more worried about it hurting than anything else, I think. I wanted this.

“Maybe for a moment, but not too long,” he whispered as he brushed his thumb over my cheekbone, “If it hurts too much we can stop… But you have to tell me,” he spoke so softly.

“I can do that,” I whispered, keeping his eyes on him. My arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed a soft, yet passionate kiss to my lips. His hips slowly started to lower towards my sex. That was when my breathing picked up, and my chest heaved slightly.

“It’s okay, you’re doing such a great job,” he whispered against my lips, “I got you.”

A soft wince came from my mouth when he carefully entered me. My fingers knotted in his hair, gently tugging it as he slowly kept going. I struggled to take a deep breath. My head fell back and my lips opened.

“Spencer,” I whined, finally allowing air to enter my lungs, “You’re so big,” I moaned as I pressed my head into my pillow. One of my arms fell from his body and landed on the bedding beside me. My hand gripped the bedding.

“You’re doing a great job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he grasped my hand and held it. I looked up at him and nodded lightly. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” I whispered and stared at him. After a moment, he carefully moved his hips, and soon after fell into a steady rhythm.

“Please… Please don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” I gasped. I slowly ran my hands up his chest to his shoulders before wrapping my arms around his neck. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes half-closed as he stared. “It feels so good,” I whimpered as he started to slowly move his hips.

My legs tensed for a moment when he bottomed out in me, and I could feel the wind being knocked out of me. Spencer looked down at me as he brought a hand to rest on my cheek.

Spencer grabbed my hand and moved it to rest against my belly. An unfamiliar bump hit my hand through my stomach and caused me to gasp and look up at him. Spencer smiled and nodded lightly.

“Do you feel how deep I am?” he whispered softly.

“You… You’re…” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He pressed his lips back to mine. His movements hastened and he pulled his hand away from mine, moving it between us and to where our bodies met. A small whimper fell from my mouth, again, as he began rubbing a finger on the already sensitive bundle of nerves. “Daddy,” I whined as his hips quickened for a moment before faltering.

I cried out as an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout my body. Spencer moaned into my ear. My legs were wrapped around him, clinging to him as he rode out our highs together. And, as I came, I couldn’t help but moan out his name.

My chest was heaving as my breathing tried to catch up with the extreme movements I was just doing. I couldn’t move my legs off him. I wasn’t ready for him to leave me just yet.

“Don’t move…” I gasped, looking up at him, “Please, Daddy… stay inside me…” I cried as he began moving away from me. My hands gripped his arms, holding him above me. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes glued to the way I squirmed beneath him. There was such an intense gaze in his eyes as he looked at me, I wasn’t sure what to do.

He lifted his hands and rested them on my cheeks. The way he held himself over me without actually crushing me was impressive. What was even more impressive was how he carefully pressed his hips back to mine.

“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispered, brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb. I stared at him, my chest quickly rising, only to fall just as fast. It felt hard to breathe, my body still feeling full with him. “You did such a good job, Princess,” he pressed his forehead to mine.

I didn’t even realize I was crying till Spencer’s thumb moved across my cheekbone. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered as he kept his eyes on my face.

“I’m good. I’m okay. I promise.” I wrinkled my nose and nodded. Spencer smiled softly and returned the nod. “I’m-I don’t know why I’m crying,” I laughed lightly before sniffling my nose, “I’m sorry.”

“Sex can be an emotional thing for some people. And since this was your first time, it was an emotional experience. You’re okay. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Spencer reassured. I stared at him and nodded, agreeing with what he said. “I’m going to get you water and a wipe or something.”

“Uhm… Yeah that’s okay… I guess. Bathroom is over there. I should have a cup in there. And there should be paper towels too.” I nodded as I gestured towards the bathroom. Spencer pecked my lips one last time before pulling away from me and leaving the bed.

‘It’s just a one-night stand,’ I kept telling myself just so I wouldn’t forget what this really was. And, in the morning, I’d never see him again.

{***}{***}{***}

My body jerked slightly when I woke up. An arm was wrapped around my middle, and the body that was connected to the arm was close to mine. Her head was resting on my chest, her ear right over my heart. She, and like my surroundings, were unfamiliar.

“Crap,” I whispered, looking down at the girl and her sleeping form. She hummed as she nuzzled her head more into my chest. I pulled on my lower lips as I carefully pulled her arm off mine. I had to be quick as I slipped out of the bed.

Usually, I wasn’t the type to just sleep with someone and then leave them the next day. To have a one-night stand, if you will. If today wasn’t the sort of day it was, I’d stay with this girl till she woke. But I had to leave to get ready for a new semester at the college.

I quickly grabbed my shirt and pants, throwing them on my body as I quietly and quickly left her apartment. My feet dragged quietly across the ground as I got closer to the front door. I pulled the door open at just the right time. Or maybe it was a bad time.

A young woman was standing with a carrier filled with coffee cups, her fist was lifted like she was about to knock. Our eyes locked before hers carefully looked down my body, lingering in spots that made me very aware.

“Holy shit,” she stared at me with wide eyes, “She wasn’t joking when she said she likes older men,” she stated, the shock in her tone was so apparent that it left me in shock. It was her friend from last night.

“I-I’m sorry.” I looked at her with furrowed brows.

“You’re old enough to be her father,” she spoke before pushing past me. I turned as she entered the apartment. “She’s got balls of steel to fuck a guy like you,” she spoke as she set the carrier on the coffee table, “But, I’m happy she did… Hope her first time was good,” she chuckled before winking at me.

“I-I have to go,” I nodded before leaving. I pulled the door shut. I tried not to linger in front of her home for too long. She’d probably be awake soon, and I really didn’t want to stick behind.

I kept my head low as I ventured on my walk of shame to the closest coffee shop. And then, from the coffee shop, I’d get a taxi to return home… To return to my home.

The second anyone finds out I had a one-night stand, I’m dead. I’m leaving. I could only hope it stayed between me and those two girls.

{***}{***}{***}

I looked over at my coworker and nodded, only half paying attention to what they were saying. Which, in turn, made me feel bad. This morning is not my morning and there were only so many reasons why.

Then I looked across the grounds, looking at all the new and familiar faces returning for a new semester of classes. My eyes landed on a familiar girl walking beside a friend. She was laughing and smiling at whatever her friend said.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I stared at the girl. Then she looked up and saw me. An embarrassed look grew across her face as her gaze fell from mine. I kept my eyes on the girl across the campus for a moment longer, long enough to notice that the friend she was with had spilled coffee over her shirt.

“I have to go…” I grimaced as I looked at my colleague. They looked back at me before slowly nodded. I kept my head low as I walked back towards the building and towards my lecture hall.

Thankfully I was the first and only person in the room. Enough time to prepare over everything. To free my mind of… of her and what we had done last night. But oh dear God, it was so hard.

I thought I had a lot of time on my hands, seeing as the class didn’t start for 5 more minutes. I thought it was bad when I saw her across the campus. Then she entered my lecture hall, clearing her throat to get my attention.

She introduced herself like I had no idea who I was. As if this was the first time we ever met. Maybe she forgot? But she definitely wasn’t drunk enough to forget. I wouldn’t have taken advantage of someone wasted as Luke or Derek would say. She was lucid, I know that much. Hell, she was able to give the taxi driver her address.

“Spencer… Reid… Professor Reid is fine... Reid... Doctor Reid. I'll-I’ll answer to pretty much anything,” I rambled, feeling as if I couldn’t stop myself from talking. She looked at me with a knowing smile, and I wondered if she thought ‘Oh, I know you’ll answer to anything… Daddy,’ That’s probably a bad thing to think, right?

“Oh! It’s wonderful meeting you, Professor Reid,” she kept talking as if she didn’t know who I was.

“Pleasure meeting… Meeting you too,” I paused with a forced smile at her, “Can’t wait to have you in my class.” I stared at her. The way she stared at me confirmed that she was pretending that she didn’t know me. I thanked God or whatever other Deity was out there that she was pretending. I don’t think I would have been able to survive if she acted like we knew each other.

“Can’t wait to be in your class.” She nodded at me before going to the first seat in the front row. I stared at her for a prolonged moment, noting the way she crossed her legs at her ankle, and looked down at her notes. She held her pen between her thumb and forefinger, the end of it just barely between her lips. I couldn’t stop hating on myself for just leaving her this morning.

Then I noticed she was staring back at me. She had a smug smile on her lips as she looked at me. It felt as if she was reading my mind as if she knew every thought that had passed my mind from the moment she entered my lecture hall.

‘Shit,’ I thought as the memories of last night forced themselves to the front of my head. All the things I said to her last night stood in the spotlight. The idiot part of me that said the stuff about impregnating her and how she kept calling me daddy stood out loud and clear. I broke this poor girl, and it was too late. And the worst part about it is… I’d do it again if I had the chance.

My pants tightened and my face grew hot. How the fuck was I supposed to get through the day? Let alone this semester?! That’s the thing I wasn’t supposed to do.

I was happy when the end of the class came. Everyone stayed in the room for a moment, bantering with each other for a moment before leaving.

I kept my eyes, and head, low as all the students filed out of the room. A few people stayed around to ask me their questions, or give me their comments. It was until the last standing student had exited the room did I realize someone was still at her desk.

“Is there something-” ‘I can help you with,’

“Why’d you leave this morning?” she asked, standing up from her spot. I looked up and away from the paperwork I was “working” on. Swallowing down my own pride and unnecessary fears, I stood. My fingertips resting on top of my desk. “Woulda made you coffee… Breakfast even…” she whispered with a shrug.

“Right…”

“You were hoping I was so drunk I forgot who you were, right? That’s what it is?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting together as she spoke. I watched as she stepped around her desk and approached my own. “I thought… I don’t know what it’s like the morning after… But if that’s what it is… Then I don’t want it,” she scoffed as she stared at me. I didn’t mean to hurt her as much as I did. But it was already too late, and the damage was done.

“That’s not what it’s like. I promise,” I whispered as I looked at her. I wasn’t prepared to make up excuses and lies as to why I just left. But I also don’t think she’d believe my truth either.

“Then why did you leave,” she ask-No, she begged. Begged me for the truth.

“I-I, uh, I had to leave because of this. I needed to get ready for this class,” I tapped down on the hard surface of my desk. Her eyes dropped down to the desktop. I could see the range of emotions on her face as she looked at all the papers scattered on my desk. Maybe she would believe me. Again, I don’t think I would have been able to come up with a believable lie.

“You could have woken me up, still… I seriously would have made you coffee,” she muttered before shrugging, again.

“Next time then,” I swallowed roughly as I stared at her. Her eyes shot up from the desk and landed right on my face. I could tell she was trying to keep her sudden excitement hidden. But I knew she was excited because of the way the corner of her lip twitched up slightly, and the way she shifted her stance, and the way her grip on her books changed, and all the other things I could list off but won’t.

“Next time?” It was obvious she struggled to keep her voice low.

“I mean, never say never, right?” I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. She looked at me with a smile as she hugged her books closer to her chest.

“Right… Never say never,” she whispered as she looked back down at the desk, “It was nice meeting you, Professor Reid,” she paused before looking up at me, a smug smile back on her lips, “And, it was nice seeing you again, Spencer,” she winked at me before walking out of my lecture hall. I swallowed roughly, staring at the space she once occupied.

Fuck.

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

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breadqueen95 · 2 years

Text

Reflections - Chapter 7: Soft Metal

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

10.9k (wut)

Chapter Summary: How can you possibly say goodbye?

Content warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, panic, general trauma, physical pain

a/n: here's some food for ya sorry i can't make a commitment to a schedule. also i will not lie this is not proofread sorry

Chapter 6

***

The rest of the night passed in a blur.

Despite having thought you’d need every single nighttime hour to make a decision, one conversation with Natasha Romanoff had you agreeing to their proposal before 11pm. Definitely not something you’d expected.

Even now, as the anxious roiling of your stomach begs you to back out and stay right where you are, you can’t say that you think you made the wrong choice. You won’t know that for sure until you get there, and even then, you already decided to give this a try.

Besides…Hydra would come for you no matter what. Natasha said as much. It’s far safer to buy yourself time by being around other people, especially people who were actually capable of keeping you safe.

…Even still, it’s hard to turn off the sheer heartbreak you feel.

Admirably, Wanda came out of your bathroom after showering and didn’t even flinch at all of the new developments. She simply nodded, smiled at you kindly, and asked if you wanted to start packing.

So that led you to where you are now. Staring at the small stack of books in your trembling hands, you try in vain to get your mind to just focus. You’ve been compartmentalizing for years now. All you need to do is flip that switch, right?

A voice says your name softly nearby, but it only registers as white noise in your brain. You just keep staring down at your books, but you don’t really see them. All you see are the white walls. The white lab coats. The—

Then there’s your name again, more insistently than the first time. It drags you out of your head, causing you to look up.

There’s Wanda, dark red tresses still a little damp from her shower. She’s looking at you with a frustrating mix of kindness and pity. For as much as her expression makes you unreasonably mad, it also gives you a weird sense of comfort.

You’re not sure what to do with that.

“Natasha stepped outside to call Tony,” she explains. She looks down to your shaking hands holding your books, which you’d grabbed while Natasha quickly updated Wanda on what she’d missed. You’d thought you should get started on gathering your meager belongings, only to end up frozen.

“I should, um…” you start, only to have your voice fade away as you struggle to find the words. Your mouth remains slightly ajar as you try to wrestle yourself into the efficient survival mode you’d perfected over these years.

But you can’t. That mode, that prey animal’s instinct, it doesn’t fit anymore. Not like it used to.

The shaking gets more pronounced. Harder to control.

“Are these the books you’d like to bring?”

Wanda’s soothing lilt yanks you back from the precipice again. Looking up, you find that same kind patience.

“Y-yes,” you choke out, “they’re the only ones here that are m-mine—”

“Okay, so they’re coming,” Wanda interrupts you kindly but forcefully. She reaches out to take the stack from you, but without thinking, you only hold them tighter and jerk them closer to you.

To her credit, she doesn’t flinch or take offense. She just says your name again, lightly, nothing but understanding in her tone.

“Would you like to set them on the table over here? Or maybe tell me where your bag is so we can pack them?”

The words bounce around in your head like an echo chamber. You’re not used to this, this collaborative thing that’s been added to your process.

Usually, when you leave, you throw your shit in a bag and go. You never give yourself time to think about the particulars of what you’re doing or why. Never really perceived yourself having a choice in leaving – it was always the only choice.

Everything about this time was deliberate. Thought through. Emotional.

How the fuck are you supposed to navigate that?

“I don’t know how to do this,” you whisper, unaware you’ve spoken the words aloud until you hear them in your own ears.

A beat of silence passes. You’re scared Wanda has finally lost her patience with you, done with this bullshit of a day and done with you.

But she hasn’t. And she isn’t.

“You don’t have to know. None of us do. But we’ll help you, I promise.”

Looking at her, you see that she is holding her hands out, palms up. There’s no expectation there, just an offer.

Slowly, deliberately, you place your books in her hands. Your heart stutters as you let go of their worn and well-loved pages, but even still, you release them. Wanda’s elegant fingers close around them, holding them as reverently as you had.

“I’ll grab my duffle,” you mutter, finally able to turn and purposefully walk to your bedroom. Grabbing the canvas bag from your closet, you march right back out to where Wanda is waiting and set the duffle on the floor.

“You know,” Wanda says as she sets your books down on the table, “we have a lot of books at the compound.”

You don’t say anything, just sort of look at her, so she continues.

“You could read some of them. If you wanted.”

Blinking, you try to think about how many books could be available at the fucking Avengers Compound. With such limited resources and almost zero access to a good library, it’s hard for you to picture.

“Any of them?”

“Any of them,” she grins.

You watch her as she glides over to where you keep your shoes by the door. She bends and picks up your old pair of hiking boots that double as snow boots in the winter, bringing them over and carefully arranging them at the bottom of your bag. You notice she’s left your beat up pair of sneakers by the door, somehow knowing you’ll want to wear them tomorrow.

“I could put a list of recommendations together if you’re interested,” she offers, “the choices can be overwhelming, and I’ve read through a lot of them.”

It’s then, for the first time in the hour since you’ve decided to leave, you feel an emotion other than devastation.

“Sure,” you reply, “I would like that.”

***

It’s that very same night that Tony Stark decides he hates moths. Despises them. Loathes them.

Okay, so he knows they’re important. Pollinators and all that. But the violence in which these massive mountain motherfuckers are going after the dim light on his phone really isn’t all that groovy of them.

A little while after they’d arrived back at the jet, after he’d given Bruce the lowdown and conferred with Hill and Fury about next steps, Nat’s name had lit up his phone screen with an incoming call.

He just didn’t think he needed a shield to step outside and answer a call.

Normally, Tony would answer inside with the others. Put the damn thing on speaker and play Candy Crush or some shit during the conversation. But with the way Rogers was seething in the corner like a little broccoli floret, he didn’t really wanna invite his opinion on whatever was happening right away.

“Hello hello, my lovely little bowl of borscht,” Tony greets as he answers the call, “what’s new?”

“Fucking hell, Stark,” Natasha barks, “you know I hate the food thing. Especially since I hate borscht.”

“So sorry, what would you prefer sweet blini of mine?”

He knows this is important. Tony feels the weight of it, and had felt it since Nat and Steve approached him about Firebug the very first time. But goddamn it, he hates this feeling. He hates that everyone, including the new pal they were trying to recruit, felt it.

Hence…the nicknames. It’s like a compulsion. He has to.

“I don’t know, maybe my name?”

“Don’t you wanna spice up your life?”

“Ugh, fine,” she relents, talking in this quick way that says she’s beyond ready to move on from this, “at least ditch the borscht.”

“Sounds swell you delightful handle of vodka,” he quips back without missing a beat, “now stop wasting time and give me that update I know you called with.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Clock’s a tickin’.”

“Fine,” she huffs, “anyways, she agreed. She’s coming back with us.”

Tony’s taken aback. He quickly checks his watch, seeing 11pm illuminated on the screen before having to swat away another dusty abomination.

“Damn, you guys work fast. I was convinced I wasn’t gonna hear anything until tomorrow morning. What did you say to her?”

“I can explain more when we get back,” she sighs, “let’s just say it was an emotional decision. She’s not gonna be okay for a long time, and this adjustment will be hard. Everyone’s gotta find some patience.”

“We’ll take care of her. Make sure you tell her that.”

“I will,” Natasha responds, voice far softer than it had been mere seconds ago, “Wanda’s in there with her now, I think she’s helping her pack.”

“Perfect. We can get outta here first thing in the morning.”

“Did Fury plant the false info for Hydra?”

“He’s getting it started,” Tony explains, “when I asked him for more details he told me to fuck off.”

“That tracks.”

“We’ll be fine,” Tony reassures her, “we’ll get her outta here and get her to safety, no problem.”

“Sure thing,” Nat sighs, then adds, “keep an eye on Rogers, would you?”

“Already ahead of you, I’ll make sure he keeps his shit together. At least until we get her back to the Compound.”

A lull in their conversation begins. Tony usually doesn’t pay attention to these sorts of things; he’s usually thinking too fast to notice anything beyond his own thoughts. Even so, he can feel the tension from the other side of the phone.

Natasha is worried. And more shocking than that, she’s letting it show.

“He’ll come around,” Tony says in what he hopes is a soothing, casual tone.

“What if he doesn’t?” She whispers back hoarsely.

“He’ll have to. Until she gives us a good reason to mistrust her or her intentions, we gotta lead with a little faith here.”

She huffs a laugh on the other line, retorting, “Thought you didn’t go by things like faith.”

“Yeah, well…”

It’s him who pauses this time, mind distracted by that poor girl’s terrified face. Distracted by all the awful things that were done to her. What could still be done to her if they didn’t get her to trust them.

But to get her to trust them, they needed to show that they trust her.

“Not always.”

***

It hadn’t taken long for you to pack up your meager belongings. Even less time than you thought once Natasha had come back inside and began helping. You told both of them they didn’t have to, but they insisted.

Nice of them. Still kind of wish they hadn’t so you could waste more time, but whatever. Win some, lose some.

By the time your books were settled on top of the last of your clothes, it was nearing 12am. You’d dragged your feet a little, but everything still hadn’t taken more than an hour. While you still felt wired, you could tell that Natasha and Wanda were exhausted. They tried to explain away their sleepy faces and yawns, but eventually you convinced them to try and get some sleep. They only listened if you promised you’d do the same.

As if that would happen.

You’re a chronic insomniac on your best nights. It didn’t take a genius to figure that tonight wouldn’t even come close to even being considered restful.

So you didn’t even try. You just curled up on top of the bed and stared at the wall, begging time to go by just a little faster.

And you’re still there. You check the clock on the bedside table, convinced it would be at least 3am or something, only to find—

12:30am.

Well fuck.

Releasing a heavy sigh, you roll onto your back to change views. Maybe staring at the dark ceiling would be more entertaining.

…definitely not the case. Not in the slightest. Because the more you stare, the more hyperaware you become of the fact that you might never see this ceiling again. Or these walls. Or this room. Or this house.

Before you know it, you’re sitting upright at the edge of the bed, fingers curled into the comforter as you try to ground yourself.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Who’s to say you’re making the right choice?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Who’s to say Hydra would even find you way out here? Maybe they wouldn’t.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Even worse, what if they find you no matter where you run?

Breathe—

You go to take a deep breath, but your lungs constrict. They stutter. Your airway closes in on itself. No matter how hard you work, you can’t get that breath. The very nature of your respiratory system failing you feels symbolic, representative of the pitiful state of your life falling around you.

Suddenly, those walls flash white in your mind, erasing the darkness with the threat of a memory far worse.

Then you’re on your feet.

As quietly and quickly as you can, you flit to the door and slowly twist it open. Hoping beyond hope that your guests don’t hear you, you leave it cracked behind you and make your way to the backdoor and slip outside. You usually wouldn’t risk closing yourself off from safety by closing the door completely, but tonight you do.

It’s not lost on you that the presence of the Avengers makes you feel a little safer than usual.

Just like every other night before, the first inhale of fresh air helps your lungs expand. You feel clean again. You feel alive.

Taking your seat on the steps of the back porch, you lean back until your back rests against the worn wood.

Nothing in front of you but open sky. Millions of stars. The moon an old friend in the distance, providing the faintest light through the darkness.

Then you’re crying. You don’t even remember starting.

But the tears stream endlessly down your cheeks. Sobs rip themselves from your chest. You press both hands over your mouth to try and keep yourself from making any noise, knowing there’s actually people who could hear you this time.

It’s kind of like your reaction with the books earlier tonight. This forceful acknowledgement of the thing you’re giving up; this illusion of safety and home you’ve crafted for yourself.

For the first time since before you can really remember, you’re being allowed time to mourn something you’ve lost.

You don’t like it. You don’t want it.

You can’t take it.

This emptiness, this heaviness weighing down every part of you…it’s torment. It’s anguish.

Just from understanding what this feeling was, this grief, it’s cracked open the door you closed to everything else you’d lost. The endless list of things you can’t let yourself remember.

But if you open that door wider, if you actually let yourself remember…

You think you’d actually shatter.

So you focus on the stars, knowing tonight is your last night with this particular stretch of sky.

***

Bucky can feel his heart break as he watches her from the tree line. He sees the way her body crumples in on itself, her small hands trying in vain to keep her pain quiet.

It was his turn for patrol. Stark had assigned them all shifts after talking to Natasha, and this happened to be his hour.

There wasn’t much for him to do, not with all the other steps Stark, Fury, and the others had taken to keep Hydra at bay. Just walk around in the dark and try to keep from tripping. He was way too used to sidewalks now.

City boy. Old habits die hard.

Of course he wasn’t going to sleep anyway. He’s way too amped up and distracted, and that was before knowing she had decided to come back with them tomorrow. Now he can’t quite seem to settle that fluttering feeling in his stomach whenever he thinks about it, which was…every second.

He’d been hanging around the area by the cabin when she came outside, trying to listen for anyone else hanging around who shouldn’t be. She’d actually given him quite a scare when that back door opened.

Bucky actually thought about going over to talk to her when she first sat down. Get to know her more, whatever. It’s kind of pathetic, this weird pull he feels toward her.

But the second he heard the first sob, he knew he couldn’t. Not now. Not tonight.

He understands that she’s trying to fall apart quietly because of the people in her home.

It’s easy for him to understand that this, all of it, is pain beyond pain for her.

That she maybe doesn’t even know how to understand it herself just yet.

He remembers vividly those first few weeks away from Hydra. First in Romania, then in Wakanda, then finally at the Compound. Bouts of extreme emotion like this was all too common. He still has them, even now, though they’re far less frequent.

But because of that intimate experience he has with this brand of breakdown, he leaves her be, no matter how much he doesn’t want to.

So Bucky retreats further into the trees, taking extra care as not to alert her to someone witnessing this.

His heart breaks more with every step he takes away from her, as though he’s fighting instinct itself.

***

Wanda hadn’t slept well.

This isn’t anything new for her; she’s used to running on very little sleep. It had been that way ever since that bomb fell on her home in Romania. Ever since her parents died. Ever since Pietro.

Instead of sleeping through the approaching dawn, she found herself sitting up on the soft leather couch where she’d settled in for the night. Angling her eyes just so, she watched the sky gradually lighten in the morning hours.

It’s easy to see what Firebug saw in this place – why she’s so deeply attached to it. There’s a certain magic in every soft breeze, the quietness that coexists with the racket from nature itself. It reminds Wanda of early mornings in her village as a child. Those early hours where she listened to people rising early to begin their days, the crickets chirping and the frogs croaking.

It pulls at her heart. She knows it must pull at Firebug’s.

No…that isn’t her real name. Wanda silently but firmly reminds herself of it in her head.

This girl might like the nickname Stark had so easily assigned to her. Might even find a certain comfort in the affectionate way in which they all seemed to say it now. But she doesn’t know, not for certain anyway.

And besides, there’s a certain humanity that comes with using someone’s real name. She’s gone so, so long without hearing hers. Maybe she doesn’t want to, but until she says otherwise, Wanda wants her to know that it’s okay to step back into herself. If she wants to.

Late last night, she’d heard the quick stumbling of someone rushing to get outside. Having felt that sort of claustrophobic panic before herself, Wanda left her alone. The familiar sights and sounds around her would comfort the young woman better than she could.

Sighing deeply, the redhead peeks over Natasha, curled tightly in on herself on the laid back recliner. It seems as though she’s sleeping, at least a little. Her friend is way too good at pretending, so she hopes that’s not the case. Nat sleeps even less than she does.

Checking the time on her phone, Wanda sees that it’s nearly 5:30am. Stark and the others would want to get moving soon.

It would be better for everyone, especially her. The longer they linger, the worse it’ll be.

So she picks herself up from the sofa, stretching languidly in the weak morning light. She opens the curtains a little more, allowing the rising sun to rest on Natasha. She stirs a little, and Wanda continues over to the small kitchenette. She makes the decision to start a pot of coffee, hoping it doesn’t irritate their host. Wanda’s honestly just hoping that if she and Nat can keep things purposeful and efficient, it’ll make things easier for everyone.

As soon as the coffee maker starts groaning (how is that thing still functioning?) she pads over to Natasha to start waking her up.

Taking extra care not to touch her or get too close, Wanda murmurs her name to rouse her. Everyone on the team knew better than to try and wake each other up with loud noises or unexpected physical contact. There’s nothing worse than having slept badly then jumping awake because your trauma is telling you than someone’s trying to kill you.

It only takes two more verbal pokes for Nat to start stirring. She grumpily cracks open one eye to glare at her, but she doesn’t scare Wanda. This is the only time she can say that the ex-assassin is all bark and no bite.

“Coffee’s starting,” she smirks, knowing that’ll help speed up the process.

And it does. Natasha begrudgingly opens both eyes and starts to sit up, the old chair creaking at the movement.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles.

As soon as Wanda’s convinced Nat is up for good, she heads back over to the kitchen and looks around for some mugs. After opening a few cabinets, she locates a few. She pulls out two for herself and Natasha, and then grabs the clean mug she saw sitting by the sink for the third member of their temporary trio. It’s probably the one she likes using most.

As Natasha gets up to start her morning stretches, she looks around before looking back at where Wanda leans against the counter.

“Where is she?” She asks.

“Back porch,” Wanda offers, glancing in that direction, “I heard her slip outside a few hours ago.”

Natasha nods and returns to her stretching, completely unbothered. And despite not having seen her for hours now, Wanda is fairly certain that when she walks outside in a few minutes, she’ll find her exactly where she expects she’ll be. The patrols would’ve seen if she’d tried to run, but more than that…Wanda just thinks she’s tired of running.

A glance at the clock reminds her of the time, and Wanda sighs.

Efficiency will make this easier she reminds herself again as she pushes off from the counter. As she walks down the hallway to get to the back, Wanda purposefully makes a little noise instead of her usual silent steps, not wanting to sneak up on her. Scaring her wouldn’t exactly be a great start to the day.

Wanda makes an entire process out of grabbing loudly (but not too aggressively she hopes) at the door handle and creaking it open. Maybe she was laying it on a little thick, but with these sorts of things, it’s so hard to know what the right thing is.

…and if she’s being honest, she wants this girl to like her. Be her friend.

Wanda loves the team; they’re the family she’s needed every since losing Pietro. Nat is like an older sister, and every single one of the guys act like her big brother. And she appreciates that. Loves it, even. But what she really wants is a friendship with someone that doesn’t feel like she’s being taken care of all the time. Something more equal.

Peeking her head out into the crisp morning air, Wanda sees her sitting on the porch steps. She’s sitting up, but her body seems to droop in on itself. Like every single limb is weighed down.

It’s impossible not to ache for her. She’s far too young to have been through as much as she has.

With a wry, humorless smile to herself, Wanda reminds herself that she’s cut from that exact same cloth.

“Good morning,” she murmurs.

To her credit, she doesn’t even flinch. But now that Wanda thinks about it, all of the noise she made probably helped. She makes a note to high five herself later.

Peter had explained about self-high fives to her. Said they were good for morale and self-confidence, which she has to agree with.

“Hello,” she whispers back hoarsely.

“Is it alright if I sit?”

A single nod. Wanda walks over to the steps and takes a seat next to Firebug.

No. Y/n.

After settling in, she takes a deep breath and looks around at the view. That magic she felt from inside? It’s even more potent out here. It’s not muted or dampened by walls or ceilings – nothing between her and the sky.

A sense of bittersweet euphoria rushes over her. She remembers the walls during her time as a Hydra experiment. She remembers how addictive the open sky became to her after getting out of there. It’s hard not to think of Pietro in times like this, and how much he would’ve loved this place.

It’s then, with the image of her brother fresh in her mind, that Wanda turns to look at her.

Her breath catches at how truly haggard she looks. Did she sleep at all?

It’s not even the physical things that worry Wanda the most. It’s the desperate, broken look so apparent in her eyes. She looks out at the grass and trees with a hunger that only comes hand in hand with grief; knowing that something or someone is here for the last time.

“I can feel you staring,” she bites out quietly, a hard glint a new addition to her expression.

Wanda fights the urge to look away and apologize. She knows that would be the polite, even kind, thing to do, but that doesn’t feel right.

“Not many people wear their expressions so openly.”

She’s not sure what made her say it, or even that she should’ve. But she does.

“Not many people get stared at on their back porch before 6am, yet here you are.”

Instead of being offended, all Wanda can do is chuckle to herself. She looks back out toward the mountainside. Neither of them speak for another minute or two, just breathing together.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n finally whispers, “I don’t…I’m not—”

“It’s okay,” Wanda reassures, “you don’t need to apologize for anything.”

More quiet. More thinking. Wanda feels pulled toward more peaceful emotions, but the torment and anguish from the young woman beside her is palpable. It’s hard to ignore, and despite what she might want, Wanda doesn’t want to pretend like her hurt isn’t happening.

She takes a breath before turning back to her, then says, “You could come back someday.”

Because she could. It might take some time, but it’s obvious to anyone how much she loves it here. How happy she would be if she could stay.

Wanda thought that might bring her some measure of comfort.

Instead, she shakes her head, pressing her mouth into a hard line. There’s something painfully hopeless about it.

“No,” she finally whispers, “I can’t put the people here at risk like that.”

“Maybe not while Hydra is still a threat, but they might not always be. Once they’re gone, then—”

Her words die in her throat as Y/n meets her eyes for the first time this morning. There’s nothing but despondency in her expression. She lifts one corner of her mouth in a humorless half smile.

“Not gonna bank on the impossible.”

Wanda’s heart breaks. It’s obvious that she believes that the threat of Hydra will never go away, and even worse, that she’ll never be safe on her own.

“You don’t know that,” she tries to say, even though she’s not sure she believes it herself.

Y/n scoffs. It’s a cold, sad sound, filled with an emotion that Wanda knows all too well. She looks away from her and back out to other mountains in the distance, the desperation reappearing on her exhausted features.

“It’s easier this way,” she mumbles, trying to shrug nonchalantly to hide the heaviness she feels, “it’s easier to forget.”

***

At this point, you’re shocked you haven’t burned a hole straight through your esophagus. It’s probably only due to your…abilities…that you hadn’t.

Because in trying (and failing) to ignore the churning of your stomach and all-consuming nervousness, you’re chugging your third hot cup of coffee. It gives you something to do with your hands, and the repetitive movements are kind of soothing.

But let’s be honest. It’s not working. For as high as your caffeine tolerance is, the jitteriness that comes with it for well adjusted people is starting to come on at full force.

…and you’re not exactly well adjusted.

You feel Wanda and Natasha’s eyes on you as your shaky hands lift the mug for another scalding sip, but you actively avoid acknowledging them. You’re not sure you can stand the expressions you might find there.

You’d finally made your way inside after those tension filled moments with Wanda outside. She was trying to help, you know that. And on some level you appreciate it. But after everything, especially after a sleepless night alone with your thoughts, every bit of it felt hollow.

Even your own optimism from yesterday feels naïve. It doesn’t make you change your mind about going with them; you’re not stupid, realistically it’s still the safest option.

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself as you washed your face, brushed your teeth, and went about getting ready to do something instinct was begging you not to.

As you were getting ready in your room, Wanda and Natasha got dressed in the living room and called Stark. When you came back out, they explained that he and the others wanted to wait for the all clear from someone named Fury (coolest name ever?). You asked why he thought you’d get jumped in an empty field, but they both just kind of looked at you like it was the stupidest thing you’d ever said.

Now that you think about it, that reaction is actually valid as fuck.

So you gulp your coffee and work on emptying your head of any and all conscious thought.

It’s not going well.

A sudden and shrill beeping sound breaks the silence. It startles you, and you only just manage not to pour the remains of your hot coffee all down your front. You look around in alarm, fully anticipating a bomb or some shit, but Natasha just pulls out her fancy looking smartphone.

In your defense, your flip phone has different sounds.

After reading the message on the screen, she looks up at you as she slides it back into her pocket.

“We’re clear. You ready?”

Your stomach falls out of your ass. You keep thinking this can’t feel more real than it’s already gotten, but here you are. You’re leaving.

With still trembling hands, you turn toward the sink and pour out the remainder of the coffee. It isn’t helping anyway. After washing out the mug, your favorite mug, you take care of the pot next. You’re thorough; every single thing in this cabin will be left immaculate.

The soft yet insistence utterance of your real name behind you can’t even pull you from this.

It comes again, pushier this time, followed by, “We can clean up if you—”

“I’ve got it.”

Your tone is clipped and final. Natasha and Wanda take the hint, and they hang back while you do these last few menial tasks.

Once the pot is back with the coffee maker, and the mug is lovingly set back in its place in the cabinet, you turn immediately and head to the couch. You’d already slipped on your shoes awhile ago. Now you focus every ounce of brain power into slipping your hands into the sleeves of your worn jacket, trying to ignore the warmth seeping into your bloodstream.

Now is not the fucking time.

As you sling your bag across your shoulder, you fight the urge to take one last look around the space.

This needs to feel casual.

Even though your heart is breaking.

“Did you want a minute?” Wanda asks kindly.

All you can do is shake your head fiercely, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself, as you make your way across the floor as quickly as you can. Before you know it, you’re pulling the door open and stepping into the brightness of the morning, leading the way outside.

Thank god the sight of their ship and all the Avengers in the field is as jarring as it is, or you would’ve had no choice but to look at the mountains.

Everyone turns as you clomp down the creaky stairs, the silent steps of the women behind you an embarrassing contrast. Though you feel the intensity from Captain Rodgers’ stare, you choose to not acknowledge it. Instead, you focus on a new figure you didn’t get the chance to meet last night.

Despite the particular abilities he had, Dr. Banner is very slight in person. He wrings his hands together in an all-too-familiar gesture as he glances around the area. The compulsive gesture seems to talk to the stabbing warmth under your skin. You try to ignore the urge to mirror his movements.

You don’t bother him in his nervousness, you just step forward to meet Stark, the warmth in his lined face so different from the painful heat under your skin. Turning your wince into a rueful smile, you stop in front of him.

“Ready to go?”

You nod, very grateful that he’s chosen to get to the point quickly for what you imagine is the first time in his life.

“Sounds good.”

He looks around and sets his focus on Dr. Banner, who jumps a little at the attention. Somehow, though you can’t know for sure, he looks like he knew this was coming. And he hates it.

“Step right up, you supersized kale smoothie,” Stark quips as he beckons Banner forward.

You’ve seen footage of the Hulk. It’s one of the first things that come up when searching for information on the Avengers. The shuffled gait and hunched shoulders Banner adopts right now is so vastly different from his alternate persona, it’s a wonder they come from the same place.

“Kid, this is Dr. Bruce Banner,” Stark introduces as the slightly shorter man comes up to stand next to him. Then you’re introduced by your full name, something you’ve heard more in the last 24 hours than you had in a decade. You can’t help but flinch a little at the sound of it, but you’re hoping you mask it well enough.

“Nice to meet you,” you mumble politely, the rageful pinpricks rearing in terror at the syllables that make up your government name.

It really was nice to meet him. Based on his history (what you know of it anyway) and his mannerisms, he seems like someone who could understand. Maybe could even talk to eventually.

“Did you plan on using Dr. Banner’s abilities against me, Stark?” You ask your question in what you hope is a teasing manner. But you are honestly curious; how far were they willing to go?

Banner, who had looked like he was bracing for something, relaxes a little as he realizes you won’t use the name of his other persona. For as much as the world has come to accept him, it seems like he’d rather ignore it all together.

Truly a trauma twin. Besides Bucky, that is.

You chance a glance at the imposing figure standing off to the side, leather glinting in the sunlight. You feel your cheeks warm in a not unpleasant way when you find he’s already gazing at you. He lifts his mouth in a comforting smile, his eyes soft as he looks at you. The fire under your skin wanes a little, dwindling to a soft flicker that matches the heat on your cheeks.

You smile back, trying to match the softness he gives you so openly, when Stark begins talking again. The moment ends with his sharp and assertive tone, pulling your attention back to him without issue.

But you wish you could’ve stayed in that moment with Bucky.

“Nah, we never intended to unleash the Jolly Green Giant—”

“--please don’t call him that—”

“—on you. And yes Bruce I will call him that it’s my favorite nickname I’ve ever come up with.”

Stark, weirdly enough, stops speaking for a minute to take a breath. It honestly seems like he forgets to breathe sometimes, working overtime to get all his thoughts out.

“Banner here ended up coming because—”

Stark’s voice falls away, his brows furrowing as his hand goes to his earpiece. He presses it further into his ear, cocking his head as he listens.

“Vis, wanna repeat that?”

The heat becomes scalding as nervous brown eyes flit to meet yours. You clench your hands together, trying not to be reactionary, but it’s becoming harder with each millisecond.

The air around you shifts as everyone tenses for whatever threat Stark is being warned about. You find your head turning slightly to the left, finding blue eyes staring back at you. Bucky’s mouth is set in a hard line as he searches your face. You slightly toward him, feeling the need to be closer to his imposing figure, when Stark’s harsh and grating command somehow pulls your attention back.

“I don’t care that Hydra wouldn’t drive an old blue pickup, because they would if it meant they wouldn’t get caught. Engage the target or we’re fucked.”

Sheer panic fills your stomach and before you know it you’re waving to get his attention.

“Tell him to stop,” you exclaim, and he responds to the urgency in your voice.

Because maybe Hydra would drive that kind of car. But you know someone else who would too.

“I know who it is,” you explain in a rush, “they’re not Hydra.”

How could you forget? How could you not call her?

“You don’t know shit, kid—”

“It’s my boss and my landlord and she comes to get me for work every morning and I forgot.”

Stark raises his brows to the point you’re convinced they’ll disappear into his hairline. While you can still see the tension in his jaw, he also lets out a breath and allows his shoulders to fall a little. The familiar weight of guilt settles over your shoulders. Looking down at your worn shoes, you wish with your whole heart that you could fall right into the earth.

“Didn’t think we needed a warning for that?”

A cold, cutting voice slices straight through your wallowing. As much as you want to ignore him, you make yourself pick your head up and look over toward Captain Rodgers.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and you genuinely mean it, “with everything going on—”

“Vision almost attacked this woman because we weren’t warned,” he continues, biting over your explanation with ferocity.

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You have no idea what to say to make this better, help him understand that your brain is just like this sometimes. Everyone has to have these moments, right?

But with the way his gaze cuts you down to size, you’re halfway convinced you’re the only person on the planet who’s ever forgotten something. You can’t help but shrink and look down again. Captain America is excellent at guilt tripping people.

“C’mon Steve, nothing happened,” a mellow voice you recognize as Sam Wilson’s cuts through the heavy silence.

Even with Sam’s calm reassurance, it’s like a trigger for Rogers to keep coming at you.

“Sure,” he scoffs coldly, “nothing happened this time.”

He fixes that ice cold gaze on you again, and despite the warm sun on your skin, you freeze under the weight of it. As much as you’d love to look anywhere else, you can’t. He stalks closer to you. His stance is that of a trained killer – the only thing keeping you from cowering away from him is what remains of your pride.

“If you’re coming with us,” he bites out, “you can’t be so narrow minded and selfish. You can’t just think of yourself anymore. Got that?”

Oh, this is unfair. He’s being so unfair.

You felt small before, guilt rising inside of you. Now you’re furious at Rogers’ reaction, feeling targeted and singled out.

What the fuck is his problem?

You allow your eyes to finally reflect the harsh frustration and anger you feel at him to show as you glare at him, mouth pressing into a hard line as your nostrils flair. Righteous heat prickles at your fingertips as the long buried need to fight back rears up

“How dare you,” you force out through gritted teeth, “you have no idea—”

Your aggression was all the reason that Rogers needed. He stalked up to you, standing mere inches from your face as he loomed over your shorter frame. You felt like you should be scared, but you weren’t.

You just burned.

“Really? I have ‘no idea’? You’re the one who seems in the dark here—”

Your humorless snort of laughter cuts him off, an incredulous look on his features.

“Jokes on you,” you sneer, “they never let me turn the lights off in that room. Didn’t see that in your reports?”

That finally silences him. The heaviness settles over your group again, the rumble of Debbie’s truck engine growing ever closer.

Palms white hot, you roll your shoulders back and look Captain America straight in the face, refusing the shrink under his anger. You’re proud of the glimmer of doubt that’s now appeared in that expression. The words that came from such a bad memory had the desired effect.

Hey, you hadn’t lied.

“You came to me. I might not understand how all of this works, that’s fine. Whatever. But I’ve been living second to second trying to stay hidden for years. So fuck right off with your self-righteous attitude. I stand by what I said; you have no fucking idea what it’s been like.”

As your words settle in, you fight to control the fire longing to sputter to life as it rages beneath your skin with your volatile emotions. You hate saying the truth aloud, the truth about your life from the past decade. You hate how it legitimizes it all.

But it’s the truth. For as much as Rogers’ has probably looked into your life, he hasn’t been through this. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a fucking leg to stand on.

You won’t let him demean and judge you for what you’ve had to do to survive.

“Take a breather, Steve,” Natasha’s soothing voice cuts through the oppressive silence. It’s accompanied by the roar of the ancient engine of Debbie’s truck as it rounds the bend by the trees, finally coming into view. You turn your back to the imposing man behind you, trying to calm yourself so you can speak to your unexpected guest.

The group behind you retreats a little; you can hear them stepping away as you step forward. As you watch the truck, you see it stop for a second. You can’t help but grin a little to yourself as you imagine Debbie behind the wheel, absolutely shocked at what she’s seeing.

You’re pulled back into the confrontation behind you as the angry sound of Rogers’ muttering drifts over to you. Clenching your fists, you fight to ignore the prickling of heat stabbing into your nerve endings.

“Doin’ okay?”

A friendly voice asking a friendly question. The sound of it a soothing balm to your nerves, something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it.

Looking over to your right, you see Bucky standing next to you. He’s respecting your personal space, but he’s still close enough so that every single cell in your body is aware of it. His blue eyes, so different from Captain Rogers, look down at you. He brings his softness with him, so welcome after the confrontation you just had.

You consider his question. Are you okay? Like, actually okay?

“I don’t really know how to answer that,” you admit quietly, noticing Debbie’s truck finally moving forward again.

“Fair enough,” he admits, a wry grin pulling at his mouth as he looks away. You find yourself staring it the curl of it, fascinated in a way you can’t explain. As he turns back to you, you notice how the pain of fighting your power ebbs away.

He makes it better.

You acknowledge the realization in your head, not quite sure what to do with it. Why? Why is he so different from the others?

“How about this,” he says, “are you still functioning? Able to put one foot in front of the other?”

You tilt your head at him, considering the question. You love how he phrased it; it’s exactly what you’ve been doing for as long as you can remember.

“Yeah. Guess you could say that.”

Bucky nods, glancing away again. Even as he looks away, you notice how he shifts slightly closer to you. If he were anyone else, you’d feel threatened.

But…it’s him. You like him close.

“Listen, I’m—”

His words are cut off as you both notice the pale blue truck pulling to a stop in front of you. Debbie’s eyes are wide as saucers as she looks from you to the Bucky to the entire situation behind you. As she looks back at you, brows raised in apprehensive question, you nod to let her know it’s okay.

“I’ll give you some space,” Bucky mumbles as Debbie starts to step out of the truck, “I’ll be right back there, okay?”

Meeting his eyes once again, you give him a rare smile, hoping he can feel the gratitude there.

“Thank you.”

It’s simple, but he smiles back. As much as you’d like to stay in this moment with him, despite your confusion around him in general, you pull yourself back to the present. You turn forward and focus on Debbie, walking forward to meet her.

It’s hard, knowing you can’t be the person she knows. It’s even harder seeing the knowing look on her face as she looks at you, like she’s had a feeling about you this entire time that’s been proven correct.

“I’m guessin’ you’re not workin’ your shift this morning.”

You shake your head, smiling apologetically.

“And your name’s not really Allie?”

Damn. She doesn’t waste any time, does she.

Sighing, you take a moment before admitting, “No, it’s not.”

“Do I get to know what it really is?”

You frown, thinking about it for a minute. The frown continues to pull at your mouth as you realize the answer.

“No. Not right now, anyway. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

Debbie comes closer to you, settling in next to you as she takes in the insanity of the scene behind you. The Avengers and their ship, just casually sitting in front of her father’s old cabin.

“Hope they’re not flattening the grass,” she mutters grumpily.

“I’ll get them moving in a minute, maybe Stark has some weird invention that can fix it,” you force a laugh.

“I got just one question for you,” she mumbles, turning to pin you with her sharp eyes, “are you safe? Are they making you go?”

“I’m safer with them than I would be alone,” you answer honestly, “so I do need to go with them. But it’s my decision to make, so don’t worry about that.”

She makes a sound of acknowledgement, but then goes quiet again. You just keep looking at her, anxious about her reaction to everything. Debbie is protective to a fault; she’s the reason you were able to find a place here. She took you under her wing, gave you a chance to remember what home meant. You can tell that she wants to know more. She wants to understand who you are, what all this is.

It makes you sadder than you can explain, knowing you can’t tell her.

“I always wondered if you were runnin’ from something,” she mutters, “you never wanted to talk about it, but I suspected.”

“You were right on that one,” you admit, “right on quite a bit of it, I imagine.”

“Well, I’m guessin’ since Iron Man himself is here that somethin’ big is after you.”

“Debbie, I wish I could—”

“Now hold on,” she interrupts, not unkindly, and continues, “I know you can’t tell me. Makes sense. As much as I wish you could, I understand.”

It’s her trademark, simple kindness that makes your eyes prickle with tears again. You should’ve known she wouldn’t push. It’s just not who she is. Even now, after months of you living here and working for her, she’s never pushed you for more information than you’re willing to give.

She looks back at you, and noticing the tears gathering in your eyes, surprises you by reaching out and taking your hands.

You normally hate when people touch you, having not let anyone do so in years. But the motherly way in which Debbie holds your hands, so gentle and soft, it releases a torrent of emotion you didn’t know you still had.

You’re just thankful your skin isn’t heating up.

“C’mon now, don’t cry,” she says gruffly, her own emotion coming into it, “you’ll be okay, these guys will keep you safe.”

Your throat closes with the effort of keeping yourself from crying. Debbie has been the only consistent, kind presence in your life that you allow yourself to acknowledge.

You’re sure the Before has some people like that. But Debbie comes from the After, where the safe memories live.

“I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done,” you choke out, all the words you wish you could say getting lost before you could get them out.

But Debbie knows. She always knows.

She just pats your hands, and says, “Would it be okay if I hugged you?”

The fact that she asks, not an ounce of judgement on her lined face, makes you feel lighter than you have in a long time.

All you can do is nod, and then she’s pulling you in for the most comforting hug you can imagine. You briefly let yourself press your face into her shoulder, the familiar scent of woodsmoke and tobacco filling your nostrils.

She smells just like her dad. You wonder if she knows.

“You’re a good kid,” she murmurs, “you’re tough. You’ll be okay no matter what happens, you hear me?”

You nod again, letting yourself relax into her embrace. The feeling is familiar, causing memories to start pulling at your mind.

Where’s my goodnight hug?

A woman’s voice. A voice you feel tugging at the deepest strings of your heart, causing the tears to finally spill over your lashes.

And all at once, you’re not just hugging Debbie. You’re hugging her too, whoever she is.

As you pull away, frantically brushing away your tears, you can’t help but smile at Debbie. Then the smile fades a little, as you remember the severity of the situation.

“People might come looking for me,” you warn, “dangerous people. You need to tell them as little as possible, even nothing at all if you can help it.”

“Of course, we’ve got your back.”

You grip Debbie hands again, tighter than before, trying to impart how serious this is.

“Not for me. For you. For the town. For anyone here who I’ve ever spoken to. They will not hesitate to hurt you, or even kill you, if they think they can get a little more information.”

Debbie’s mouth hangs open as she looks at you in shock, fear finally entering her eyes.

Good. She needs to be scared.

“If they come, if anyone comes and asks questions, you have to lie. You need to tell everyone to lie. Do you understand?”

A brief moment passes as she looks at you, a newfound hesitation that you’ve never seen her wear before settling in. Guilt begins to prickle at your conscious again as you remember how it’s your fault.

Finally, she nods in understanding.

“Will they come? Do you know for sure?” She asks, her voice trembling slightly.

“I don’t know. I know Stark has people planting false trails, hopefully that helps.”

Your oh-so-casual use of Iron Man’s government last name hits her along with the rest of this insane situation, and she looks behind you to the superheroes, shaking her head in awe.

“…Stark’s laying…false trail…you gotta be shittin’ me…”

It’s then you get a glimpse of how she might look at you differently if she knew who, or what, you were. With the Allie persona practically dead and gone, things feel strangely tenuous with the woman. It could be even worse if she knew just how dangerous you could be for them.

You find yourself glancing back at the team along with Debbie. As you catch Stark’s eye, he raises an eyebrow at you and briefly lifts his watch-clad wrist, indicating that you needed to finish up.

It’s hard to begrudge the guy when goodbyes feel so foreign now. The raging emotion accompanying this one is too uncomfortable to bear, and you feel yourself needing to be done with it all.

…but Debbie, after everything she’s done for you, you have to make this count. You can’t just throw it away like every other time before.

Turning back, you find the older woman already looking at you. While there’s this undercurrent of awe that hadn’t been present before, there’s that all-knowing wisdom about her that’s always been there. Like she knows all your secrets before you do.

You both kind of just look at each other for a minute or two. She might just be enjoying the moment, but beneath your own silence, you’re frantically trying to grab at the right words to convey how much her generosity means to you.

You open and close your mouth several times, thinking you’ve thought of something just to forget it or get shy right at the last minute.

Another minute of you very clearly struggling, and Debbie’s chiming in, gruffly saying, “Kid, we don’t have to do the thing.”

“I—what?”

You’d been just about to force something out when her words settle over you. It sounded so Debbie yet so unlike Debbie all at the same time. The woman herself seems a little surprised at herself.

“Ethel’s daughter got her a boxed set of Grey’s Anatomy, and we—oh foot, we’re getting off subject here,” she rushes out gruffly. You bite back a laugh at the reference she never meant to make. It would only make her more embarrassed.

“The point is,” she continues, trying very hard to move past her little fan moment, “you don’t have to say anything. We don’t have to make this a big moment. Neither of us are big gesture kind of gals – no need to torture ourselves.”

“I just—I don’t know how—”

“I mean it,” she cuts off your stuttering again, any progress you make toward a heartfelt and eloquent goodbye monologue shut down once again by your landlord.

…your friend.

“C’mon,” you whine a little, “can’t I say—”

“Nope,” she huffs gruffly, trying to hide the faint shimmering in her eyes by turning away from you toward the peaks, “this ain’t forever, kid. I’m still expecting to see your ass here again.”

“I don’t know when that’ll be.”

You’re taken aback at how small and childlike your voice sounds. So scared. So unsure of herself. When was the last time you sounded like that?

“Good. Gives you plenty of time to plan out a better script for our next ‘see ya later’.”

She smooths over the grumpiness of her tone by giving you a small half smile, the laugh lines around her eyes crinkling as she looks at you. You smile back at her, hoping beyond hope that it conveys everything you couldn’t bring yourself to say this time around.

Before you know it, Debbie’s turning quickly back toward her old pickup, and the moment is over.

“Better hurry back or that Dorito is gonna shit himself.”

Debbie’s definitely thrown some weird sentences out there in the past, but this was at a whole new level. What the fuck?

When you don’t respond right away, she adds over her should, “The tall blonde man with the constipated, pinched face. Never seen shoulders so broad with such a skinny waist. Man must think he’s a god, but he’s just a corn chip.”

Genuine laughter bubbles up from your throat. Only Debbie could somehow pick out the Avenger’s biggest asshole and deliver the most scorching of burns, all for shits and giggles.

By the time you get a hold of yourself, Debbie’s too far away for you to really say anything else to her. Not without screaming it, anyway. And the things you want to say aren’t for the entirety of Superhero Monthly. For someone who complains so often about her creaky joints, Debbie scuttles faster than any person you’d ever met.

You settle for just watching contentedly until she finally makes it to her truck, waving when she settles herself in the driver’s seat once again. Your throat seizes with emotion as she waves back.

Despite wanting to watch her drive down the winding road back toward town, you make yourself turn and walk back toward the main group. You don’t even let yourself look at the cabin again as you pass it, knowing it would just be another burst of painful emotion if you did.

If there’s one thing the past 24 hours have taught you, it’s that emotions are fucking annoying as shit.

As you shuffle to a halt in front of the waiting Avengers, Tony Stark claps his hands and says, “Did the diner accept your resignation?”

“I uh, I guess so?”

“Love it,” he says, “then let’s rock and roll.”

“It’s a good thing Parker isn’t here right now,” Sam mutters from a little ways away, “he’d be roasting your ass for that.”

“Fuck off Woodstock.”

Sam and Bucky snort with giggles, only quieting down when Stark turns around and fixes them with what you know is the coldest of Dad Stares he has in his arsenal.

“Okay, moving on,” Stark turns back to face you, “how’s that fire of yours react to small spaces?”

The small smile you’d had with Sam and Bucky’s antics falls away.

“Probably not the biggest fan in the world, if I’m being honest,” you mutter.

“Let me put it this way; is there a chance the jet turns into an open flame grill if things go wrong?”

You don’t want to admit it, but yeah, probably. Controlling it is hard even on a good day, and that’s when you don’t have to worry about walls or anything. There’s a very good chance this goes badly within the first five minutes of taking flight.

Your fingers start to heat up like the fire knows it’s being talked about. Bitch.

“Honesty is the best policy here, kid,” Stark’s addition interrupts your panicked thoughts, “not gonna toss you out over the Mississippi or anything. You gonna light it up?”

“Good chance of it, yeah,” you admit begrudgingly, stubbornly ignoring the stabbing pinpricks of heat arching over your shoulders.

“Lucky for us, I plan ahead sometimes,” he turns back toward the open ramp to the ship, calling, “You’re up, Banner.”

Dr. Banner comes forward again, his face already apologetic as you meet his gaze.

“We have two options here to keep you and everyone on board safe,” he says, his voice surprisingly authoritative compared to his demeanor.

“O-okay,” you stutter, then release a shaky breath to try and ease some tension.

“Number one, Tony and I developed some fireproof restraints that would cover your hands completely. Even if your powers start getting out of control, everything will be contained.”

The clamp of cold metal, so at odds against the white hot of your skin. Sparks sputter out intermittently, wanting to fight a battle you were barely conscious of.

“What’s the other option?” You ask, jaw clenched against the unwanted memory. The other option has to be better. There’s no way you would let someone restrain you again.

Banner gives you an understanding nod, then continues, “Working with enhanced folks over the years, we’ve been able to concoct a short-term sedative that would put you under for the duration of the flight.”

More needles. More restraints. More drugs. The options weren’t great, no matter how you slice it. You squeeze your eyes shut, fighting the endless flashes of the sensations and the terror and the cold—

“Hey, you’re safe. You’re okay.”

There’s that softness again, coming to rest over your senses. It’s different enough from the rest that you can’t help but focus on it.

Focus on him.

You manage to open your eyes again. Looking to your right, you see Bucky. He’s looking down at you with nothing but reassurance and calm.

“This isn’t like it was with them. You’re safe with us.”

“I-I ju-just—”

Your voice seems to vibrate as panic takes hold. The heat is there again, centering around your spine this time, making you want to curve in on yourself.

“Look at me, focus on me,” he murmurs.

Turning so that you face him head on, you try to hone in on the different shades of blue in his eyes. You vaguely notice that the rest of the group has stepped away, giving you a minute.

“I know neither option is great,” he says quietly, “but neither is the pressure you would put on yourself trying to keep it in.”

You nod along with what he says, the logic making sense to you even through the fog.

“Which one seems like the least amount of stress for you?”

Thinking, you try to compare the two in your mind. If you were to choose the restraints, you’d be conscious of it the entire time. Somehow, knowing you were trapped, being painfully aware of being so enclosed…the idea alone is enough to make you shatter.

“I need to be out,” you whisper, “I’m not—I just don’t think I can—”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain it,” he whispers, stepping closer. You let him, choosing to allow that softness to be your primary sensation rather than the fire burning you from the inside.

“I know this is the better option,” you choke out, “but I still hate needles. I had being drugged like this.”

“I do too.”

Looking up at him, you see nothing but genuine pain and honesty. He understands. For his sake, you wish he didn’t.

“I’ll stay right next to you the entire time,” he promises, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

All you can do is nod, every minute more overwhelming than the next since you walked back down from the mountain yesterday.

You allow Bucky to lead you back toward the ship, Dr. Banner and Stark standing outside as the rest start to file in.

“Ready to go, lava lamp?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, wringing your hands together, “could…could you guys just sedate me? I know it might be a hassle, but—”

“Not a hassle at all kiddo, promise,” Stark gently cuts you off, “and besides, as a rule we like to not be set on fire. Kind of a comfort thing.”

Banner looks at Stark in shock at his joke about the threat you pose, but you let out a little giggle. It’s nice for it to be the subject of something funny, rather than every other bad thing it is.

The two scientists lead you onto the ship, your legs trembling with every step against the metallic floor. The only thing keeping you steady is Bucky trailing behind you.

They lead you to some seats near the back of the jet, a little separate from the rest. Good; some space from the others might help.

You get your things stowed away with Bucky’s help before sitting down. Natasha’s intelligent green eyes meet yours from across the ship, and her kind smile only adds to your feeling of safety.

She’s the one who convinced you to do this. She’s what made you believe they can be trusted. You can do this.

After getting yourself strapped in, Dr. Banner steps in front of you. You can tell he’s trying to make himself as nonthreatening as possible. Even so, it’s kind of hard not to feel terrified as he holds up the glinting needle in the shadows.

Your breath catches. Hazy flashes explode from behind your eyes, erupting in a storm of pure panic as your body tries to remind you why you stay away from them.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

Bucky’s warm words break through the fear as the needle pierces your arm. You feel a prick for the briefest of seconds before it’s out again, Dr. Banner already having plunged the sedative into your veins.

“Damn, you’re good at that,” you mumble, words slurring a little as the drug starts to take effect.

“Years of practice,” he chuckles.

The last thing you hear is Bucky, murmuring something again to you, so quiet only you can hear.

“You’re safe with me.”

***

tags: @obsidianvibranium @dreamwritesimagines @valhalla-kristin

thanks for being here y'all this thing is my baby and it means so much to me

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #jenna writes #reflections series

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vdlest · 3 years

Text

Our Place To Have Forever

Characters:

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:

You and Bucky are finally moving in together.

Warning:

Fluff

"Come on, stop playing around, Buck!" you yelled at your boyfriend, who you are currently chasing around the empty living room of your newly bought house.

You are chasing him because he has your checklist of the things that should be done and followed as you two move in together. But he insists that you two should just be spontaneous about it and enjoy this milestone in your lives.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I told you, give that to me!" you yelled again as you continue to chase him. You already used your "commanding" tone which you only use during missions.

Bucky knew you're already getting annoyed with him, aside from the fact that you are using your commanding voice, you already mentioned his full name.

He finally stopped running around, but still not letting go of your clipboard checklist.

You stood in front of him, giving him a death-defying glare, "Give it to me," you uttered word by word. But he did not move a bit. He kept the clipboard away from you, "Are you really testing my patience, Mr. Barnes?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes.

Bucky chuckled and quickly kissed your forehead, "You know, you're more beautiful when you're mad," he joked.

"We still have a lot of things to do, Bucky," you remind him, then you extended your hand towards him, "So give that to me."

Bucky knows being organize is your thing. You want everything to be in its right place, right position, and right timing. You want everything to be done and accomplished at the perfect time. Instead of getting annoyed with your perfectionist attitude, he loves that about you.

"Baby, you should stop worrying about your list just for today and be carefree," he told you. He grabbed your hand and slowly asked you to turn like a ballerina, "Let's just enjoy this moment, this brand new start for us," when you turned around, he pull you towards him, pressing your body against each other.

Maybe this is the reason why you and Bucky are staying strong together — you two were complete opposites, but that doesn't change the fact that you two are madly and deeply in love with one another. And that made the two of you decide to finally move in together.

"Oh, baby, can't believe we've gotten this far already," you said and placed both of your hands on his shoulder, you two were almost dancing.

Bucky smiled, "And we still have a long way to go, baby. Forever starts today," he told you. When he realized he just used the word forever, his facial expression changed and he frowned, "Did I just use the F word?"

You giggle and nodded, "You just did and I'd love to hear it more often from this mouth of yours," you looked at his lips.

His hand traveled to your waist and you could feel the way he squeezed your waist, "Uh, what if we keep ourselves busy first with something more important?" he asked you, emphasizing the word "more" as his brows go up and down, "What 'ya say about that?"

You chuckle and shook your head in disbelief.

You lost count of the times you two had made love, but each time you do it, you are still surprised by how good and intense he gets. After all, it's not just about you two being horny bunnies, it's not just about you two satisfying each other, it's not just about lust, it's all about how you two love each other to the extent that you two are willing to give your all to each other.

"Oh, I love you so much, Bucky," you sighed as you stare at his face, reflecting on how much you two have been through just to get to where you two are right now, "Everything happened so fast. It was like only yesterday when we met and this morning I woke up we're loading all our boxes and stuff to move to this new place we're gonna call home. It's like we're really living our happily ever after."

Bucky must've noticed when your smile changed a bit, he must've sensed something is bothering you and your thoughts.

"What's wrong?" he cupped your face as he asks you.

You sighed and shook your head, "I just...I just," you stutter, trying to find the right words to explain what's really bothering you.

"Come on, Y/N. You know that you can always tell me anything, right?" he assured you. Bucky won't stop anyway until you finally tell him what is really bothering you and your thoughts.

You first gave him a small smile, then you finally had the courage to tell him, "I'm just afraid that this happiness we're experiencing right now will have something in return," you shuddered. You cleared your throat first before explaining everything to Bucky, "I mean, I am happy for us. I have never been this happy and content. I just don't want something or someone to ruin these beautiful moments, this, us," you added.

For the past weeks that you and Bucky were planning for this day, for this move-in day to your new home, you could never be so happy, but a little part of you starts to think that something bad might happen in exchange for the happiness that you and Bucky are sharing.

You promised yourself that you're just gonna keep that thought in you, but you and Bucky also promised that you two will never keep a secret from each other, most especially if the other party is involved.

He is involved, so yeah, you told him.

"Baby, nothing and no one can tear us apart. You and I will always be together, and even if we aren't physically together all the time, you are always in my heart and I am inside yours. These are just words but our love is stronger than anything, right?" Bucky asked you.

"Yeah, I know. I just don't want to lose you," you looked down, fighting the urge to cry and avoiding ruining the moment.

He let go of one of your cheeks and held your chin to make you look up to him again, "You'll never lose me. I'll never lose you. And just like what I said, no one can tear us apart. I won't let them," he leaned forward and kissed your forehead, then pull you close as he wrapped his arms around you.

Feeling Bucky's warmth makes you feel at home all the time like no one and nothing can harm you. You guess that's what he'll do for the rest of your lives, he will always cage you around his arms and make your fears all go away.

"We're on the new chapter of our lives," you heard him say while hugging you, and slowly guiding you to sway with him, "And this place, this place will serve as our new home, the place where we'll invite our family and friends over for every special occasion or even just for a simple gathering, the place where we'll always choose to come home to, the place where we'll start to build our own family, the place where we'll raise our kids, the place where we'll grow old together, and the place we'll always have, forever. And yeah, I just used the F word again."

You chuckle as you pull away from his hug to meet his eyes, "You are so adorable, James Buchanan Barnes."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too."

-v.dl

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky #Bucky Barnes x You #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes Fluff #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky x you #Bucky x y/n #Bucky x reader #Bucky imagine #Bucky fanfiction #Marvel #Marvel Imagine #Marvel Fanfiction

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Nine // Wanda Maximoff

chapter eight | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter ten

author’s note: a bit late with the update today, my bad. I’m just very exhausted lol. Hope you like it though! bit beefy, just how i like it 😂

I should have realised Wanda would be a handful after literally grabbing my arse less than a metre away from her fiancé.

The final straw came when we were sat together at a table, talking to a guest who wanted to know more about the wedding plans. Y/B/N had left Wanda alone for the remainder of the evening for God knows what reason, so I was left to babysit her and make sure she didn't do anything stupid. Of course, drunk Wanda was also disobedient as well as truthful and clingy.

As the woman we were sat opposite was talking about her own wedding – the first of three, apparently – Wanda's hand kept playing with mine under the table. I shot her a serious look before slapping it away gently. That wasn't enough though, as several times after, she continued to play with my fingers and intertwine hers in mine.

Not wanting to draw attention, I pushed Wanda's hand under her thigh with hopes she'd keep it there and stop fussing. I didn't think she was even listening to the woman and the story of her wedding dress debacle, as she was leaning on the palm of her hand and watching with boredom.

At one point, just when I thought Wanda was finally behaving, I felt her hand rest on my thigh, creeping up dangerously higher. Clenching my jaw to contain both the arousal and frustration I was feeling, I flicked my foot against hers before stuffing her hand under her thigh again. Glancing at her, she was smiling innocently in my direction.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" the woman stopped mid-talk, looking to Wanda.

Wanda straightened up in her seat, flashing the woman a bright smile. "Yes. But if I may ask–"

"Oh, no..." I mumbled, already internally facepalming.

"–don't you think my almost sister-in-law is very pretty?"

My head snapped to hers as I attempted to disguise my panic with a nervous smile. The woman looked between us, waiting patiently for Wanda to continue.

"Good looks runs in the family it seems," Wanda said, stretching her hand out to caress my cheek, but I immediately caught it before she could, chuckling awkwardly.

The woman found Wanda's behaviour funny as she nodded in agreement. "The Y/L/Ns are a very good looking family indeed. Especially your fiancé, dear. What a handsome man he is."

Wanda hummed in agreement, but her eyes were only focused on me. Under any other circumstances, I would have appreciated how cute she was and been touched at her words, but now wasn't that time.

"My lovely almost sister-in-law is particularly drunk tonight I'm afraid," I spoke truthfully to the woman, offering an apologetic smile. "I should make sure she's okay."

"Of course," the woman said, nodding. "It was nice speaking to you both."

I smiled in response for both of us before leading Wanda away from the table and to an emptier-looking part of the room. Spinning around, I gave her a disapproving look.

"You can't say that," I said quietly, shaking my head. "Not here. Not now."

She licked her lips, wearing an enchanting smile, unbothered by our surroundings. "I can't help it. I'm so in love with you and you look irresistible tonight, milaya (darling)."

I sighed, my neck growing warm as she watched me with adoration. "Okay, I think it's time to call it a night."

"No, I want to stay," she whined, but I ignored her and turned around to think about how we could leave.

Once again, I felt her hand squeeze my butt and when I turned around to scold her, I saw my brother over her shoulder, approaching us. I forced a smile on my lips and glanced at her with a glare. She grinned in response before joining my side and facing my brother with me.

"Hey, how are you?" he asked when he stopped by us.

"Good," I answered for us both, afraid Wanda would say something suspicious.

He nodded, smiling a little. "Thanks for keeping Wanda company tonight."

Using that as my opportunity, I said, "Yeah, about that. She's kind of drunk, so I think I'm going to take her home."

"Oh," he said with realisation. "I don't mind taking it from here."

I pursed my lips, desperately trying to think of a reason to stay with her. Thankfully, I didn't have to.

"How scandalous of you to want to me somewhere after hours with nobody else around," Wanda poked fun, attempting to make him feel uncomfortable. It worked.

"Oh, no– I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, flushing at her insinuation. "Never mind." Looking to me, he added, "You should take her home and make sure she's okay. Maybe stay with her until her family gets home so you don't have to head home yourself."

I nodded, ignoring the proud smile on Wanda's lips. "Okay, see you later."

As I led Wanda outside the house and towards the carriages parked outside, I gave her a grateful look.

"Good thinking back there."

She chuckled. "He's so easy to manipulate."

"Not nice," I said, but couldn't stop the amused smile from playing on my lips.

The two of us got in the back of the carriage after I gave the driver her address and settled in. Wanda was quick to tilt my head towards her and connect our lips, but I pulled back quickly, making her frown.

"You've been very frustrating this evening," I said with a warning tone. "We get home and you get to bed. That's it."

"Well, that hardly seems fair," she said with a shake of her head. "I believe I behaved."

I tried not to laugh. "In what world, love?"

She smiled widely, eyes darting to my lips. "Some alternate universe."

"Smooth," I played along, before facing forward. "Sober up, dear. The ride isn't long."

When we reached her house, it was a struggle getting her to her bedroom, but it was an even bigger struggle getting her dressed. I managed to get her dress off, but she kept trying to kiss me as I tried to put her nightgown on. Between fits of laughter, she pushed my hands away and made me step back.

Hands on my hips, I stared down at her with a ghost of a smile on my lips. "Are you done? You can't just sleep in your bra and knickers."

She laughed, sat on the edge of her bed and looking up at me with tired eyes. "One kiss and I'll let you dress me."

"Definitely no." I shook my head. "We both know what happens after one kiss."

"When will there ever be an opportunity where we're alone together in my home?" she tried to make a point, but her accent was especially heavy, entwined with her drunkenness and making it harder to believe her logic.

I rested my hands on her shoulders and leaned my forehead on hers, staring into her eyes with amusement. "My beautiful love, you are drunk. We will not have sex when you're drunk."

Her hands tugged me closer by the waist as she smiled up at me. "But I know what I want. And I'm certain it's you."

"Not now," I repeated, removing her hands from my waist.

She pouted and I chuckled before kissing it away. Her tantrum seemed to tire her out as I was able to get her dressed after that, managing to tuck her under the covers.

"Stay with me," she mumbled, fingers clawing the air as a gesture for me to join her.

Nobody would be back for a while, I realised, and nobody was home.

"Fine," I gave in quickly, before kicking off my shoes and jumping into the bed beside her.

She grinned, snuggling into my side and breathing out contently. "Ya tak sil'no tebya lyublyu (I love you so much)."

I kissed the top of her head, holding her close and hoping she couldn't hear the rate of my heartbeat pick up. "I love you, too, Wanda."

We stayed like that, in each other's arms, until I sadly had to get up and leave her. She was asleep by the time her family returned, her face relaxed and without the constraints of reality. I smiled to myself, feeling overwhelmed with how much I was in love with her. I was lucky to have met her, I knew that much, but I was also unlucky to have met her under our circumstances.

As usual, I couldn't help but wonder what could have happened if we weren't in the wrong lifetime...

I kissed her once more, whispering an 'I love you' to her, before leaving the room and wondering if one day I might be able to stay under the covers with her, cuddling until I fell asleep, too.

��

"It won't take long, I just need to give him this," Wanda said nonchalantly, referring to the notebooks in her hand. "Then we can grab lunch."

I nodded and the two of us walked down the street until we located the Maximoff Publishing House. I'd been here a few times when visiting my brother and it always gave me a fuzzy warm feeling, my brain formulating daydreams where I could be published, too. But that's all they were – daydreams.

Wanda held the door open for me as I walked in and I gave her an appreciative smile before she followed after. She led the way to her brother's office at the back of the building and we passed several desks – editors, authors and other employees alike – before reaching it. Through the window, Wanda and I could see Pietro sat behind his desk, pen working away at some papers.

"Piet," Wanda called, knocking on the door.

He looked up and grinned, instantly motioning for us to come inside. I followed after Wanda and closed the door behind us before stopping in front of his desk.

"Y/N, I'm so glad you came!" he exclaimed, standing up and stretching out his hands ecstatically. "I didn't think you would if I'm being honest."

I tilted my head, bemused. "Er... pardon?"

"Piet, she doesn't–" Wanda started, making me look to her. She cut herself off with a sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "Oh, God."

"I'm not sure what's happening here," I said with an awkward chuckle, before taking the notebooks from Wanda's hand and dropping them on Pietro's desk, "but these are for you. Wanda said you left them at home."

He chuckled, pushing the notebooks to the side, before reaching into his top drawer and throwing some pages before me. "These are genius, Y/N."

My brows creased together with confusion as I lifted the pages, looking through them to see what had got him all happy. As my eyes skimmed the writing, my heart dropped. This was my writing.

"H-how did you get this?" I stammered, looking up at him.

His eyes flickered to Wanda and I immediately put the pieces together, my gaze falling to her. She smiled bashfully before avoiding my eyes. She'd given him my work without telling me? And she'd tricked me into coming here for this?

"I want to sign you," he stated, clasping his hands together. "Your work is amazing, arguably better than you brother's. You really undersold! And the fact that these are just excerpts means your actual completed work is even better. And I want it here at Maximoff Publishing."

My palms were sweaty as I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. He wanted to sign me? Like, properly sign me?

"Y/N?" Wanda prompted, making me look her way. She watched with encouraging eyes, nodding to her brother.

I swallowed hard and looked to Pietro. "I'll have to think about it."

My family's reaction would not be kind, I knew that now. All my life I'd been hearing about how it was unladylike and unattractive for a woman to be a writer, how I should just leave the writing to Y/B/N. He was the writer and I needed to get over it because nobody would want to publish me. Yet, here we were.

"Y/N, what are you saying?" Wanda asked, resting a hand on my forearm to get my attention. "You've talked about being published for ages."

I was beginning to regret mentioning that silly fantasy to Wanda. If I'd known she was going to give my work to her brother, I never would have said anything.

"It's fine, Wan, she just needs time to mull it over," Pietro said dismissively, before smiling at me. "I do hope you'll decide soon though."

I forced a small smile his way before turning to leave. When I reached the empty hallway, Wanda was quick to run after me, tugging me backwards so I would face her.

"Why did you do that?" I asked instantly, frowning, feeling betrayed. "What made you think I wanted this?"

Her fingers touched mine gently as she looked between my eyes. "You've told me you wanted this. I know you want this."

I shook my head, letting go of her hand and stepping back. "I can't believe you took my work and gave it to him without asking. You shouldn't have done this, Wanda. You're making waves and–"

"You deserve this," she proclaimed sternly, silencing me. Her eyes were fiery as she stared hard. "You deserve to get the credit, too. Not just your brother. It's about damn time, Y/N."

My lips pressed together firmly as I held her stare, though she was winning as she told me everything I'd wanted to hear. Just once, somebody believed in me, but I was so used to hearing otherwise that it felt foreign.

"Pietro wants to help," she said, expression softening. "He recognises talent and you have it. Maybe I should have asked before giving him your work, maybe I shouldn't have. But I know that it was the only way to push you. You're so content accepting what other people want that you don't chase what you deserve."

Her passion and belief for my work warmed my heart to the core and I was certain that I'd never been more in love with her than I was now. She didn't have to care, but she did. For once, somebody did.

"Nobody will like this," I muttered, half-convinced but still worried about the drawbacks. "It could destroy your brother's career. It could backfire."

Wanda shook her head, stepping forward and resting a hand on my neck, thumb stroking the skin comfortingly. "He wouldn't take the risk if he didn't believe in you."

I placed my hand over hers, taking it between mine as I squeezed it gently, gratefully. I didn't know what else to say, since she'd countered all of my arguments. Everything apart from my family's reaction, which she couldn't control.

"I did this for you," she murmured, before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a hug. "For you to finally get what you deserve. So that you can make your own money and nobody can take it from you."

She paused as I returned her hug, though I was pondering her words, not knowing she felt that way. It sounded like she'd given this some thought. More than she was letting on.

"Especially if you get married," she added after consideration, and I pulled away, ready to say otherwise, but she closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, I know you don't like talking about it, but it needs to be said." She opened her eyes and I realised they were glassy with unshed tears. "I need you to be okay when it happens. I don't–" She sucked up a breath, smiling to relieve the tension, though it was full of pain. "I don't want some man owning you."

"Any money I make will belong to him anyway," I said, knowing she knew the world we lived in.

A downhearted chuckle escaped her lips. "You wouldn't allow that, Y/N, we both know that."

She wasn't wrong. But the thought of even being married to somebody that wasn't her made my heart crumble in my chest.

"Just think about it, okay?" she asked pleadingly. "Promise me you'll think about it? Properly?"

I nodded, reassuring her with a sad smile. "I will. I promise." She sighed with relief, tense shoulders relaxing. I continued quietly, "Thank you, Wanda. For all of this. For everything."

She nodded, before laughing to distract from the tear that slipped from her eye. I felt bad, but there was nothing I could do. She was so concerned about my future without her and it pained me to see. We never talked about it – an unspoken agreement – because it was too difficult to accept.

"Come on," she said, changing the subject. "Let's go get that lunch we came here for."

—

I hadn't made up my mind about the publishing deal, but I was starting to veer towards a 'yes'.

A few days passed since Pietro made the offer and I hadn't told anybody of it. Only Wanda knew and she hadn't brought it up since, clearly not wanting to pressure me into a decision which I appreciated. It made me realise that I really wanted this for myself. I deserved this for myself, even if I'd been taught otherwise.

It was those few days later when the Maximoffs came over for dinner and it was the first time I'd seen Pietro since he made me the offer. When he greeted me at the door, he smiled brightly.

"I assume you haven't made a decision," he noted.

"You assumed correctly," I said with amusement, though I could tell he really wanted to know.

"Very well," he said with a shrug. "I guess I'll just have to change your mind."

I quirked a brow, wondering what he meant by that, but he simply walked past me and into the living room. Wanda smiled at me next, squeezing my hand and greeting me with a hug.

"You okay?" she asked lowly, a hint of concern in her eyes.

"I'm good," I promised. "Are you?"

"Yes," she said with a small smile. Just like her brother, I could tell she wanted to know what I was thinking.

After our two families conversed in the living room for a while, dinner was served by our servants and we all took to the table to continue our chatter.

"So, Pietro," my father started, looking across the table to him. "How is business going at the publishing house?"

I should have known what he would do when he glanced at me with mischievous eyes.

"It's going great," he answered my father respectfully. "We've actually sought out a new author to add to the list of names we represent."

My eyes widened when I realised what he was doing.

"Oh, really?" my dad asked with surprise. "Who is he?"

Pietro looked in my direction and I forgot how to breathe. "It's actually your daughter, sir."

All eyes fell to me as I locked my gaze on the cutlery beside my plate.

"Y/N? You want to sign Y/N?" asked my dad for clarification.

"I do," he said with a grin, and my face was heating up the longer this conversation went on. "Wanda saw her work and thought I'd be interested. I am. I think she'd make a great fit at our publishing house. And if she has a manuscript to show us, then I'd love to publish it."

"You did this?" Y/B/N asked Wanda with raised brows, jealousy intertwined in his voice.

"Yes, I did," she answered, unaffected by his irritation. "She's really talented."

I risked glancing up, smiling at Wanda appreciatively. She nodded in response, the corner of her mouth lifting adorably, making my heart flutter.

"She really is," Pietro agreed, before looking to my dad who still seemed taken aback. "She probably got that from you. Writing seems to run in the family."

My dad looked at me across the table, his eyes softening. All of our conversations flashed to mind where he claimed he was discouraging me for my own benefit. But now, everything he'd thought wouldn't happen was. Would he still be against the idea?

"D'you really think she'd sell?" he finally spoke, looking to Pietro, and I couldn't contain the smile from my lips.

"Yeah, don't women struggle with their first book?" my brother asked, and when I examined his expression, I saw the distaste.

"I actually think she'd do really well...," Pietro began to explain, before going into a long rant about numbers and sales and past examples.

As he spoke, my brother got progressively more frustrated and I frowned, wondering why he couldn't be supportive like our parents were being. Did he want to be the only author in our family that bad? Or was he just afraid that I wouldn't help him with his own books anymore?

"Thank you for explaining all of that," my dad said once he was done. He smiled, impressed, looking to me. "I actually love the idea."

I felt lightweight when he said that. Things were actually starting to look up for me. My dad was actually supporting my passion and it was all I'd wanted to hear since I was a kid. Trying to hide my elation behind a smile, I took a sip of water.

"Maybe Pietro is just trying to sweeten Y/N up so he can propose," Y/B/N suddenly said, making me choke on my water.

Looking to him with disbelief, he had a friendly smile on his lips, but I saw right through it.

"Y/B/N," Wanda scolded beside him. "Don't joke about that."

"Yeah, I can assure you that's not the case," Pietro added with a chuckle, unfazed by my brother's bitterness.

"I know that," I said reassuringly, before glaring at my brother. "You don't need to dignify him with a response, Pietro."

Changing the subject, my mother spoke up with a laugh. "Well, I think this is delightful. Y/N has always loved to write and I used to think it wasn't an appropriate future for a young woman, but if you are saying it could be, then I'm fully supportive of the idea."

I smiled at her, unable to believe she'd actually said that. She was the last person I thought would approve.

"Pietro has a good eye with these things," Oleg pointed out. "If he thinks it'll be successful, it will be."

My parents began to talk about how writing was something I'd loved for a long time, but I wasn't really listening because I felt overwhelmed with happiness. Pietro caught my eye, winking playfully, and I hoped he knew how grateful I was at what he'd done. Under the table, Wanda's fingers laced through mine and I didn't let go. Giving her a sideways glance, I thanked her with my eyes. She smiled widely and I tried very hard not to kiss her.

"...it's not the conventional route, but Y/N deserves it," my dad said, and I perked up with realisation.

"Maybe Wanda could break the conventional, too," I said, wanting to repay the brunette beside me.

"What do you mean?" she asked with furrowed brows.

I gave her a smile of disbelief. "Wanda, your art. It's stunning. Everything you create could easily sell for hundreds of pounds."

Her lips parted with surprise as she struggled to find words.

"That's not a bad idea, you know," Iryna said with thought. "Especially if Y/N's signing goes to plan."

Oleg groaned playfully, looking to my father. "This is happening so quickly... our girls are growing up, Y/D/N."

My dad chuckled alongside him as I stroked the top of Wanda's hand with my thumb. She squeezed it gently and I smiled to myself.

"You'll make tons of money," I said with certainty. "Your work is incredible, Wanda."

"I'll make enough money to support the both of us," Y/B/N said, doing a terrible job at hiding his frustration.

I looked over Wanda and to him with a hard stare and fake smile. "It's not even about the money to be honest. Maybe it's just about Wanda doing something she loves."

He nodded in agreement, though his eyes glared daggers at me. "I agree. And I won't stop her. But there's no need to sell her work. She can still practice her craft as usual. Heck, I'll even get her a studio."

I quirked a brow challengingly. "And what if she wants to sell it?"

Y/B/N clenched his jaw behind a forced smile. I ignored the warning look Wanda gave me in my peripheral and didn't dare look away from my brother's gaze. This was a side to him that I definitely didn't like.

My mum suddenly laughed to clear the air, but it was nervous and concerned. "Ah, sibling rivalry. Such playful nonsense."

"I believe the dessert is coming out now," my dad added, stealing the Maximoffs' attention away from my brother and I. "We're having soufflé."

With a final glare to my brother, I returned to eating. Any chatter of Wanda and I's potential careers ceased and my parents attempted to make the rest of the meal worthwhile.

As much as I wanted to be excited at the possibility of accepting Pietro's deal, especially since I had my parents' support, I couldn't help but think about what just happened with my brother. What was his problem?

When the meal ended, we all had some tea in the living room before bringing the evening to a close. At the door, we said our goodbyes to the Maximoffs and I was sure to thank Pietro.

"You didn't have to do that back there," I said as we shook hands, "but thank you. I think I know my answer now."

"Anything for my sister's best friend," he said with his signature charming smile. "And I hope it's what I think it is. Though, I suppose you won't tell me now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not now."

"Soon, I hope." He nodded conclusively. "Have a good evening, Y/N."

Wanda shoved him out the way before I could respond before pulling me in for a hug. Pietro didn't seem offended as he gave me a knowing look over her shoulder. I stared back inquisitively, but got distracted when Wanda broke the hug, finding my eyes.

"You okay after what happened?" she asked gently, eyes subtly gesturing to my brother who was bidding her parents a goodbye.

"I'm okay," I reassured her with a smile. "Thanks for tonight."

She returned my smile. "Thank you. I think my parents actually took me seriously for a change."

"It's the least I could do," I told her, fully aware of everything she'd done for me.

Her smile widened, eyes flickering to my lips conspicuously. I shoved her gently, knowing what she was thinking and reminding her that we were in front of both of our families right now. She rolled her eyes playfully before stepping back.

"Such a handful," I mumbled jokingly.

When they left, the first thing Y/B/N did was storm off to his study. My parents exchanged glances before looking to me.

"Be nice," my mum warned.

"We'll see," I muttered under my breath, looking in the direction he'd gone.

Oh, was he about to get a piece of my mind.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel #mcu

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alltooreid · 3 years

Note

hi !!! first of congrats oh my gosh you deserve all of them and more :)

for the blurb celebration could you do a fluff for promot 30 with the reader having she/her pronouns? it could be like friends to lovers with like constant teasing banter and then theyre like oops i accidentally fell in live with you, ya dork? or whatever you want!

thank you so so much, you’re so sweet!! and i love this request omg!!

Prompt: #30: “i'm sick and tired of your attitude”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 1.1K

Content Warnings: None! (I think, please let me know if I’m missing something!)

***

“There’s my favorite loser!” Y/N said, ruffling her best friend Spencer Reid's hair as she walked past his desk. “So, what are you doing tonight babe?”

When Y/N started at the BAU, Spencer remembered being overwhelmed and nervous whenever she called him babe, until she called Morgan babe for getting her coffee and Garcia babe when she met her for the first time. What really confirmed for him that Y/N would call anything and everything babe is when she told Hotch “Good morning babe,” on pure accident because she was so used to using it in everyday conversation.

Now Y/N was his best friend, and he found her calling him babe kind of annoying and comical, instead of romantic and flirtatious. However, he couldn’t help but blush when she would ruffle or play with his hair. But Spencer had convinced himself that was a completely natural response, that it meant nothing, and that he definitely had no feelings for Y/N.

“Nothing, really. I’ll probably just stay home,” Spencer said. “I just bought a first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice that is practically begging to be read.”

She rolled her eyes over-dramatically, Spencer laughed, knowing she didn’t actually mean it and was just trying to mess with him. “Or you could do something way better. Instead of reading an incredibly boring book written in old English, you could come to my apartment and we could watch the movie! It’s really good, I promise even you’ll love it.”

Spencer smirked, “I don’t know, movie night sounds fun and all. . . Maybe I’ll see if Emily wants to watch it with me.”

She laughed, “Oh so now you’re too good for me huh?”

“Maybe I'm just sick and tired of your attitude Y/N,” he said while smiling, they both knew that wasn’t true at all. Spencer found it comforting that Y/N was just as humorous with him as she was with everyone else, sometimes even more so. He often felt that because he was awkward around his coworkers and didn’t always get their sarcasm or jokes that he wasn’t included in the more silly, mundane “water cooler talk.”

Sometimes when he would try to include himself, he would begin to ramble, and by the time he was done most of his friends had walked away. Even more times they would just interrupt him so that he would stop talking. Yet whenever he would attempt to make himself more conversational, everyone seemed to think it was stupid and a useless endeavor.

But with Y/N, Spencer knew she was willing to take the time to make jokes with him and listen to his interests. So when Y/N made fun of him, he knew that it wasn’t out of malice. He felt comfortable exchanging banter with her; he was never scared of annoying her or messing something up.

“I don’t know how much I believe that Reid. . . but if you insist I guess I’ll just have to see if Penelope would like this chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles…. What a shame.”

“Wait! Y/N I still definitely want that.”

“Well I’m sure Penelope does as well, and she likes my attitude,” she said, giggling as she walked away.

Not too long after however, Y/N was back, and surprised Spencer by hugging him from behind and nuzzling her head on his shoulder. “Just kidding dork, I would never do that to you,” she dropped the donut onto his desk, “but! I would consider it if you don’t come watch Pride and Prejudice with me tonight.”

He laughed “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be there.”

“Yes! I knew it! Pride and Prejudice is on! 7 pm, my apartment, and you better bring snacks.”

She squeezed him again, and then went back to her desk, spinning around a couple of times in her chair and smiling.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as well, both at the sight in front of him and his newest realization, one that he had buried deep inside himself ever since Y/N started at the BAU.

He was in love with his best friend.

***

“Spencer! You’re finally here! Did you bring snacks?” Y/N said, practically jumping off her couch as Spencer let himself inside; she had a terrible habit of always leaving her door unlocked when she was home.

“What do you mean finally?” he asked, “I’m ten minutes early?”

“Yeah but I’m starving and I really wanna watch this movie,” she radiated excitement, “Now come sit down and cuddle with me.”

This was one of those things that should have made Spencer realize just how much he loved Y/N. Platonic cuddling was not something Spencer was used to, but when it came to Y/N he looked forward to it. Yet now the realization that it was only platonic on one end made Spencer feel awkward.

“You seem tense babe. What’s wrong?” Y/N asked.

“It’s nothing,” he lied.

“Don’t play that game with me Spencer, you’re my best friend. I love you, I know you better than I know myself, you can tell me anything.”

He sighed, “That’s the problem Y/N, you love me, but I realized today that I don’t just love you, I’m in love with you.”

Y/N’s mouth was wide open, and for a second when he looked at her Spencer thought he had ruined everything.

That was until she fit her mouth to his.

“I realized a week ago, it hit me like a truck. When I went to your apartment after the Oregon case, and you read me to sleep because it had affected me so much. I just remember lying there, eyes half shut, and thinking ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with this man, I want to come home to this every single night’ and that’s when I realized I was in love with you.”

“That’s a cuter story than mine, I realized this morning. Something in me finally said that there was no way best friends felt the way I feel around you.”

Y/N pushed his hair off his forehead and planted a kiss there, “Look at us dork,” she said with her lips still brushing the top of his head, “We accidentally fell in love with each other.”

Spencer smiled and then laughed, “Yeah, I guess we did.”

***

taglist!!: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup @spenxerslut @averyhotchner @widow-cevans @laurnrnlds @samuel-de-champagne-problems

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!

please reblog and let me know what you think!! :))

or send me direct feedback here!

thank you again for this request! if anyone else would like to send request for my 300 celebration please refer to these guidelines!!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content.

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses.

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.”

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.”

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shyficwriter · 3 years

Text

Sick

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu & Kraglin)

Summary: You are quite sick, and unfortunately for everyone else, you won't stay in bed. Might have something to do with being delirious with fever, or maybe you're just a terrible patient. Who's to say?

Authors note: Content warning for hallucinated gore (I think? maybe horror is a better description? Let me know), and mentions of blood, and of course mentions of all the nastiness that comes with a stomach sickness (Don't worry, I kept it clean, didn't want to gross myself out lol) The characters are safe, story has a happy ending.

Word Count: 7,120

Damn, you felt like shit.

It was the first morning in forever where you could remember not actually wanting to get out of bed. Everything was sore, and damn it was just so cold. Why was it cold? Peter usually kept the ship decently warm?

You sighed and rolled out of bed, pausing momentarily when the room began to spin and your stomach tightened in nausea. Damn. That mission the other day must have taken more out of you than you thought. You didn't think you'd still be this sore and tired two days later. This was worse than yesterday, and you weren't exactly expecting the nausea, but at least it had passed.

Oh well. Nothing you can really do about it. Besides, you had more pressing matters, like figuring out why it was so damn cold. You were shaking and had to fight your teeth from chattering. Better put on a sweater.

After washing up and getting ready you headed out of your room to ask Peter why it was so cold, maybe check on the boiler yourself if he hadn't. You found him with Gamora and Kraglin on the flight deck discussing the best course to Berhert, where you guys were planning to dock for a few days and maybe chase down a few leads for new jobs.

"Why is it so freaking cold in here?" you ask. "Did the boiler break down or something?"

They turned to look at you and it was then you realized they were in their regular clothes, not even wearing jackets to keep them warm. Peter was even wearing short sleeves. "I feel fine?" he said, looking to Gamora. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, adding that if anything, she thought Peter kept it a little too warm on the ship.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how they could possibly be warm when you were freezing. You shook your head gently. "Guess it's just me then," you grumble.

"You ok? Ya look a little pale there?" Kraglin asked after noticing you were at least a shade or two lighter than normal and how the skin around your eyes wasn't normally that dark.

"I'm fine, Kraglin," you say, trying not to sound like too much of an asshole despite being cranky that you were so cold and achy.

Peter looked at you suspiciously a moment before saying, "Hey, come here a sec."

"Why?" you ask, just as suspiciously.

"Just come here."

You roll your eyes as you approach. "Fine." Once you stopped a few feet from him you asked, "What?"

He raised his hand out toward your forehead, and in your surprise you leaned away quick, instantly regretting it as the room began to spin again.

You gathered yourself somewhat quickly and noticed his hand coming back. You smacked it away. "What are you doing??" you asked through squinty eyes.

"I'm trying to feel your temperature, dummy. Quit moving!" he responded, irritated when you dodged him once again.

"What am I? A child? I don't need you to feel my temperature, mom." you sassed, taking a few steps backward out of the way. "I'm fine." you say irritably.

"Well you like shit."

You almost laughed in surprise at his bluntness as you leaned back with a mildly offended expression. "Well fuck you too, dickweed. You aren't exactly a looker yourself." You didn't really think he was ugly, you were just being mean, but it made Kraglin laugh anyway.

Peter shot him a look before turning back to you and saying, "I didn't mean it like that. I just think you should probably go back to bed if you aren't feeling well."

"First off, I have shit to do, I'm not going back to bed. Secondly, I never said I wasn't feeling well, I just said I was cold," you say bitterly, hugging your arms close to your chest as another chill hit you.

"Then why are you sweating?" Peter asked.

You looked at him a moment, confused, before bringing your own hand up to your forehead. Sure enough, you were starting to sweat a little around your hairline. You wiped your hand on your sweater as you gave him a bitter look before turning and walking away.

"Go back to bed!" Peter called after you.

You flipped him the bird, not turning around as you continued out of the room. "You don't tell me what to do. You ain't my mother."

Peter narrowed his eyes as you walked away. "Yeah... well... Good!"

Gamora rolled her eyes at both yours and Peter's immaturity and returned the conversation to the navigation.

***

You made you way down to the kitchen, thinking maybe you'd make some toast. Your stomach felt a bit crampy now, and you thought toast might be light enough to soothe it before you got started on your chores. Maybe some milk. Milk was nice and gentle, right?

Rocket and Groot were already in the kitchen eating some cereal when you got there. You nodded toward them in greeting as you put down some bread in the toaster. You pulled down a glass and went to open the fridge to pour yourself some milk while you waited when Rocket spoke up.

"Oh hey, we're out of milk, if that's what you're after."

You sighed. "Juice will have to do then," you say, grabbing the bottle and pouring yourself a glass of the light green liquid. You leaned against the counter and sipped at it as Rocket made conversation.

"You said you're going to blow out the dryer line today, right?"

"Yeah."

"About how long are you gonna be? I need to wash a load and I was hoping to get it started before I got to work fixing Groot's game-thing so it might be done by the time I finished."

"Shouldn't be too long. Should only take abo-"

Just then the toaster popped, making you jump a mile, and Rocket and Groot laugh at your reaction.

"Oh man, I don't get why you Terrans are so scared of that! Haha!"

You only glare at him before removing your toast and turning your attention to buttering it rather than engage about how you were definitely not scared of a toaster like you would have any other time. You just didn't feel like it today.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, you ok? Normally you yell back when I tease you about the toaster. You sick or something?"

You were finished buttering your toast so you turned to give him an unimpressed look. "What? If I don't yell at you, you think I must be sick?"

Rocket shrugged, "I mean, yeah?" He collected his and Groot's now empty bowls and hopped over to put them in the sink. "You've always yelled something back, what else I'm I supposed to think?" He turned back towards you and looked you over. "And are you supposed to look that... dead?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You supposed to be that bald?"

"What? I'm literally covered in fur." Rocket said, looking at you like he thought you were stupid.

"You won't be if I shave you, you little shit."

"I am Groot."

"I'm not sure if cranky's the word I'd use right now, buddy." Rocket said, throwing you a sideways glance. "Come on, let's go see if Drax wants to play cards or something." With that the pair left the room, leaving you alone to nibble at your toast and sip at your juice in peace.

It didn't exactly help the cramping in your stomach though, you realized as you placed your glass in the sink. You took a deep breath as another chill hit you and you rested over the sink a bit to get your bearings, taking a few more deep breaths hoping it would ease the cramping in your stomach.

Once you felt steady enough you left the kitchen, intent to get started on today's tasks, first being the dryer line, then changing the various air filters about the ship. You'd probably also get around to checking all the smoke detectors before lunch, but for now you just needed to get down to the laundry room to get started.

God, it was so cold.

You made your way down the hall from the kitchen and turned off towards the laundry room when you were startled by Yondu. He had been coming up the other hallway in the direction you were now headed and decided to greet you with a clap on the back and a loud, "Hey, squirt! What'cha doing?"

He always called you squirt, pipsqueak, munchkin, just because he knew it annoyed you to be called childish nicknames. To be fair, he did still call Peter, a fully grown man, 'boy,' as well as also sometimes calling him 'squirt,' and Gamora 'girl,' so at least you knew it wasn't personal.

The startle, as well as the impact of his hand meeting your shoulder sent you forward. You grabbed hold of the wall and tried to steady yourself as the hall spun around you.

"Whoa, ya alright there?" Yondu asked, not expecting to have thrown you so off balance.

You look up at him weakly and nod, breathing deeply through your nose as you held a hand to your stomach, still bent over slightly from where you had caught yourself. You thought you were going to be sick, but you were doing your damnedest to keep it together. "Yeah." you swallowed, trying to fight the slight tremors beginning to shake you. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Ya don't look it. I think you need to take your ass back to bed."

You glare at him. "I'm fine. I just need a sec." As if your body were trying to betray you, another chill shot through your spine, making you shake as a strong cramp made you fold into yourself with a, "Ow, fuck!"

Shit. You knew what was coming and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You quickly turned away from Yondu and vomited on the floor with such force that it felt like something had ripped your stomach open and you fought not to whimper at the pain. You heard him make a disgusted noise, and you didn't blame him.

Teeth chattering and dizzy, you looked at the mess and said, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I'll clean that up." Your vision swam as you shook, one hand gripping at the wall, the other still wrapped about your middle.

Before Yondu could think to respond you had dropped to your knees, thankfully missing the puddle of sick on the floor, and vomited again.

You couldn't stop shaking, and resigned into leaning into the wall, eyes closed as you turned your forehead to rest against the cold metal. Your breath came in shudders as you heard Yondu cry out, "Shit! Quill!" He sounded urgent, but you didn't have time to think about that, you were too busy shaking and trying not to vomit again.

You thought you heard Rocket's voice from up the hall say, "See! I knew you were sick!" and you briefly opened your eyes to look up and make out the little blurry figure approaching before closing them again, weakly throwing him the bird as you focused on keeping it together, both arms now clutching your stomach as you grimaced in pain. It would be over soon. You just needed to gather yourself so you could clean up the mess you made and then you could get on with your day. God your stomach hurt...

You heard Yondu call out for Peter a second time, more urgently than the first and adding, "Kraglin! Somebody! Get down here!" when you lost your battle against your stomach and vomited for a third time. This time Rocket's cries for Peter joined him. You wondered why they were freaking out and calling for Peter when you felt Yondu grab your shoulders to stop you from falling forwards, causing your eyes to pop open allowing you to see your puddle of sick was now red, though you couldn't remember eating anything red... Was the juice you drank red? No, it was green... "Well that's not ideal..." you slurred out, realizing that it probably definitely shouldn't be red, but couldn't quite get a grasp on exactly why you knew it shouldn't be.

The last thing you heard was the sounds of boots thundering down the hallway, getting closer as they mingled with the noises of Yondu and Rocket's shouting before everything went dark.

***

You woke up in your bed laying on top of your sheets. You still didn't feel great, your stomach still felt crampy and also now burned a bit, but it was better than the sharp pain of before and at least you didn't really feel nauseous anymore.

It was still really cold though. You sat up and your head swam. You looked down to see you were still in your sweater and contemplated putting another one on before deciding against it. You were going to be up moving around doing your chores in a second, you'd likely warm up then.

You gingerly pulled yourself out of bed, thinking you might go get some water first, when you looked over at your nightstand for the time and found that someone had already left you a glass. How kind. You sipped at the water and silently grumbled when you realized you had been asleep for nearly two hours.

Wait... why were you in bed again? You sort of remembered getting sick. Peter probably made you lay down a bit. He was a mother hen like that.

No matter, you were up now. Time to get to work.

You left your room and had made it about 20 feet before Gamora spotted you and ordered you back to bed. You made out her two stern faces staring at you... wait two? You thought she only had one of those?

"Why?" you ask, wondering if Peter's mother-hening had rubbed off on her. Way you saw it, you only threw up, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Because you're sick, that's why!" Gamora replied, sounding exasperated.

"I'm fine." you assured, making a face a her. "You worry too much, chicken. The sky's still there." Hmm... you might have gotten that phrase wrong, or did you? You couldn't quite remember. Oh well.

"Bed. Now." she ordered. You blinked and suddenly she once again only had one face. One very cross looking face. Oh well. You still knew better than to argue with her, regardless of how many faces she chose to wear today, so begrudgingly you turned around and went back to your room with a dramatic sigh.

When enough time passed that you were certain she'd be gone, you attempted your escape again. This time you got about halfway to the laundry when you spotted little Groot in the hallway. He looked at you contemplatively and said, "I am Groot?" which you took to mean he was probably asking if you were supposed to be up and out of bed. Leave it to Peter to tell the whole damn ship.

You gave the little guy your best smile and made a shushing gesture with your finger to your lips. "Our secret, right buddy?"

He smiled and ran off.

Taking that as an agreement to silence you went on your way only to not make it much further before hearing someone tell you to "Stop right there!" You turned to find Gamora and Peter looking very disapproving while Rocket stood there looking smug with little Groot sat on his shoulder. Knowing you were defeated, your shoulders fell as you said, "I know, I know. 'Back to bed.'" As you made your way past them you looked down at the little twig and muttered, "Traitor." only to be met with him sticking his little tongue out at you playfully.

Your third attempt was much the same, only this time it was Mantis who caught you and she wasn't quiet about it at all when she went running off yelling to Yondu that you were out of bed again, much to your chagrin as it prompted him to come out of a nearby room. He didn't even have to say anything. He just stared you down, and you held up your hands in defeat and said "Ok! Ok! I'm going!" before scurrying the best you could back to your room.

You didn't even get out of your room on your fourth attempt, having opened the door to find Drax had been walking by at just that moment. He stopped and narrowed his eyes at you with arms crossed, daring you to try it. You looked at him awkwardly a moment before sighing and just closing the door. Maybe you'd take a nap and wait them out. You were a little sleepy...

On your fifth attempt you got nearly to the doors of the laundry when you heard someone shout, "Where do you think you're going?! Get back to bed!"

You turned around irritably to see it was Peter and Kraglin now, looking fairly cross. Seriously!? Why can't they just let you be!

You crossed your arms. "I have to blow out the dryer line, asshat. Where are you going?" you sassed.

Kraglin leaned to Peter and muttered something you couldn't quite make out. Something about the flight hangar? Oh well, probably wasn't important.

Peter looked at you like you were a misbehaving child. "I'm going to take you back to bed, that where I'm going."

You rolled your eyes and waved him off this time, turning your back on him to continue on your quest.

"Hey!" he scolded, effortlessly catching up with you and grabbing your arm to stop you. "I'm not kidding, you need to go back to bed." He put a hand to your forehead, this time succeeding since he had you by the arm and you couldn't get away. "You're burning up. Come on, back to bed." he repeated.

"Screw off." you say weakly, the sudden motion of being grabbed making you dizzy.

"See this is what I mean. You need to rest." Peter's tone was slightly more gentle now, but it didn't make you any less cranky. "Do you really think you're gonna puke blood and then just be allowed to walk about like everything's fine? You're crazy. You need to stay in bed until a doctor can see you!"

Huh. So that hadn't been a dream... Maybe it was the fever talking, but you didn't really care too much. You didn't want or need to see a doctor. You tried to reason with him.

"If I don't blow the lint out of the line it could catch fire. You want that, Star-Brat?" Ok, so you were still a bit cranky, probably could have said that nicer. Oh well. You tried to pry his hand away but failed, sighing in frustration.

"Already did it." Kraglin lied, throwing a hinting look to Peter.

Taking the cue Peter nodded. "Uh- Yeah, he got it done while you were sleeping.'"

"See?" Kraglin said, "Now you got nothing to worry about and you can just get some rest."

You jerked your arm and this time succeeded in freeing yourself, but not without feeling faint. "Nice try." you say, stumbling back a little. "There's still other stuff I needed to get done."

Peter grabbed your arm again, afraid you might fall backward if he didn't, and this time wasted no time marching you in the direction of your room. "And it can all wait until tomorrow. Right now you rest. This is the last time we're gonna tell you."

You looked at him confused. Last time? Had there been others? Oh right... you thought remembered him and Gamora yelling at you once before... oh and Yondu... you had forgotten Yondu. Bunch of mother hens...

Too weak to free yourself again you settled for complaining that you were fine, and for Peter to just let you go about your business. It all went on deaf ears.

On the way back to your room the three of you passed by Yondu, who laughed and said, "Told ya the squirt would try and escape again, didn't I? Just as stubborn as the two of you boys."

Peter chuckled, looking to the blue man and saying, "Remember that time we had to literally tie Kraglin to the bed when he caught the Kree flu and wouldn't stay in the Med Bay?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes and Yondu laughed, looking at you. "Now there's an idea!"

You shot him a look. "If you tie me down I swear I'll gut all of you," you say crankily.

"Stay in bed then and we won't have a problem," Yondu grinned, adding, "Don't make us have to knock you out."

You glared at him again but finally allowed Peter to lead you back to your room with minimal grumbling.

Once in your room he threw back your covers and ordered you to get into bed or else he and Kraglin would tie you to it. Afraid they might actually follow through with the threat, you obeyed, grumbling about how they were treating you like a child.

"Quit acting like one and we won't have to," Kraglin quipped, pointing to the water glass on your table and stating how you needed to keep your fluids up and that it better be gone by the time one of them came back to check on you.

You just turned on your side away from them and grumbled out a sleepy, "Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone."

Satisfied that you'd finally stay put the two men left the room. Once Peter closed the door behind them Kraglin said, "I guess I better actually go clean that dryer line now, huh?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, maybe."

***

Peter met up with Gamora on the flight deck. "How soon until the Doc can get here?"

As soon as he, Gamora, and Kraglin had all ran down from the flight deck to see what Yondu and Rocket were yelling about and found you passed out in Yondu's arms in front of a puddle of your own all-too-bloody sick they immediately sent Kraglin back up to call one of Berhert's doctors to try and get one to meet them at the ship, knowing they were still about three days out from even thinking about landing.

"Still about a day out," Gamora answered.

"I'm getting nervous," Peter admitted since it was just he and Gamora alone now. He told her how you were you were practically burning to the touch when he was dragging you back to your room for the final time, and even though you put on a good act with the banter, you couldn't hide from him the fact that you couldn't stop shivering or the way you looked like death warmed over.

He also told her what Kraglin had said, how they thought the fever was getting to you. When they found you last you were making your way towards the flight hangar, but you thought you were headed towards the laundry. They were on opposite ends of the ship.

Gamora validated his concerns, taking his hand to comfort him before saying, "Don't worry, the doctor will get here in time."

Peter sighed and nodded.

If- No. When you got better, Peter was going to kick your ass for making him worry.

***

You woke up again a few hours later feeling thirsty and achy. You looked over to see you still had about a sip of water left and drank it. Placing the glass back on the nightstand you stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing you also needed to pee. Ugh. Inconvenient. If you couldn't work or do anything else you'd at least rather be sleeping. Actually, now that you thought about it, right now you didn't even want to work anymore. You just wanted sleep.

You knew surely you wouldn't get yelled at for being out of bed for getting up to use the toilet, so you sat up with the intent to roll out of bed and walk across the hall to do your business. Maybe you'd get some more water on the way as well.

No sooner had you sat up did you see it in the corner. Your stomach flipped and you rubbed your eyes, but it was still there. With horror in your eyes and your urge to use the toilet completely forgotten, you stared at the horrifying sight, unable to make a sound.

In the corner of the room was a humanoid figure, looking like it had been skinned alive. It was eyeless, only dark oozing holes remained where its eyes should have been, same with its nose. It was twitching grotesquely, blood and yellow ooze sloughing off its body as it did so, puddling about the floor at its feet. It tilted its head at you with a wicked toothy grin of sharp yellow teeth.

You pressed yourself against the headboard, shaking like mad, only a tiny squeak able to leave your throat. Sweat tickled down your forehead but you didn't dare move to wipe it away.

You sat like this for what felt like an eternity but was likely only a few moments before you heard the door to your room open and heard Yondu's voice.

"Me and Rat just came to make sure ya didn't run away again." He chuckled, before noticing the state of you and his tone changed. "What's the matter?"

You didn't look at him, didn't say anything, not wanting to take your eyes off the monster or do anything that might spur it into motion, and pointed a trembling hand at it.

Yondu looked where you were pointing. There was nothing there.

He looked down at a confused Rocket and just muttered, "Shit," realizing that you were likely hallucinating from the fever. He spoke to you softly, easing himself into the room so as to not make any sudden movements, "Listen here now, there's nothing there. It's alright."

You swallowed hearing his words. There was nothing there. There was nothing there. It couldn't hurt you. It couldn't-

It took a step towards you.

"Please," you managed to get out, jerking back into the headboard, trembling. You silently begged that you would fall asleep, or wake up, anything to make the nightmare before you go away.

Yondu's eyes widened and he held up his hands as he took another gentle step toward you despite how you still hadn't looked his way. "It's alright, you're ok, whatever it is- it's not real."

"Please," you say again, pleadingly, "Please knock me out."

Yondu looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Please... Please. Knock me out. Sedate me- I don't care." You begged. You believed his voice when it said the creature wasn't real, or at very least you wanted to believe it very badly. However, believing it wasn't real didn't change the fact that you could still see it. Tears started to leak from your eyes. "Please make it stop."

Seeing you beg like that tore at something in Yondu's heart. You guys all did scary shit all the time. Came with the job of being part of the "Guardians of the Galaxy." Everyone had seen each other scared at some point, but this was different.

He spoke softly. "Ok, ok." He looked at Rocket for assistance. When he had threatened to knock you out earlier it had only been a joke. Other than sucker-punching you, which he had no intention of doing, he didn't actually have anything he could give you that would knock you out.

Rocket spoke up, uncharacteristically softly, trying to be helpful. "Look, it's ok, we're here, you're safe." He made to jump up on the bed before Yondu could stop him.

A reddish oozing blob similar to the creature in the corner but with reddish eyes jumped up by your feet and you screamed.

Yondu's scolding cry to Rocket of "Dammit, boy! No!" was drowned out by your cry as you kicked and sent the horrible thing flying to the end of your bed. It just managed to keep from falling to the floor by sinking its claws into the blanket, and it stood back up with a shake. You shrieked as you threw your empty water glass right at the creatures head only for it to catch it and toss it aside on the bed.

Then you felt strong hands grab your wrists. You heard Yondu's voice calling your name, saying it was alright, that everything was ok, but it wasn't Yondu. It was the creature from the corner.

"I don't think that's helping!" Rocket said, hopping off the bed to narrowly avoid being kicked again.

"Well jumpin' up on the bed wasn't yer brightest idea either, boy!" Yondu scolded back. You were sliding down the headboard, trying to get away from him, so he switched tactics. He traded gripping your wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around you, effectively pining your arms with your wrists against your chest in a hug so he could rock you gently saying, "Shh, it's alright, you're safe. It's alright. Shh."

Tears ran down your face as the creature wrapped itself around you. You turned your face away, kicking and struggling to break free as you cried softly, "No no no! Please no!"

Yondu continued to rock you, hoping you'd snap out of it. After a couple more shushes and assurances that you were safe, that weren't quite working, he threw a sideways glance at Rocket. "This doesn't leave this room, got it?"

Rocket cheekily replied, "Me? Tell everyone you're a giant softie? Never!"

Yondu glared at him and was about to say something snarky in return when he heard Mantis from the doorway.

She peeked in nervously. "Is everything ok? I was walking by and I heard screaming."

Rocket got an idea. Drax had told him how Mantis had put Ego, an entire living planet, to sleep. Surely a mere Terran should be no problem. "Mantis come here, we need your help."

Mantis quickly but shyly entered your room. Seeing the state of you in Yondu's arms she worriedly asked the pair if you were ok.

"Not exactly." Rocket answered honestly, telling Mantis how the fever put you in a bad way, and they now needed her help to put you to sleep so you'd feel better.

"Think you can do that for us, Bug?" Yondu asked, still holding you tightly as you cried and struggled to get away, his eyes nearly pleading.

Mantis nodded.

You felt the creature's arms wrap tighter and you kicked fruitlessly. You had kept your eyes shut tightly, but upon feeling that you almost had an arm free you allowed them to open.

You regretted it.

There was now also a shorter monster, just like the one from the corner that had you now in its clutches. Dark horns protruded from its forehead and it opened its glistening maw as it reached a bloodied, oozing hand toward your face.

You threw back your head in a weak, terrified, cry of anguish, struggling against the hold of the other monster as you kicked and sobbed a desperate, "Please no! Don't!" before once again darkness enveloped you.

Your struggling ceased and Yondu laid you down to rest on your pillow, brushing some sweaty hair back from your eyes before standing up.

"Jeez," Rocket said, shaking his head and wondering aloud what you had seen that made you do "that."

Yondu looked down to see that Rocket wasn't just referencing your terrified crying and thrashing. He made a face of pity before sighing and looking up at Mantis. "Sweetheart, I need ya to go fetch Gamora for me, alright? If ya can't find her get Drax. I'm gonna go find some more sheets."

***

When Mantis came and told Gamora what had happened she immediately had Peter call the doctor they sent for to ask him what to do. You were clearly worsening and Peter was worried the doctor wouldn't get there in time.

Once on the line and after finding your temperature was over 40°C, and learning about the hallucinations, the doctor instructed that you needed to be cooled down immediately, and suggested they place you in a cold bath or shower. After that, they needed to keep your fluids up and monitor your fever.

Until the doctor would get there in about 18 hours, there was unfortunately not much else he could tell them to do.

So they waited.

***

The next time you fully came-to was nearly two days later.

You woke up in your bed feeling tired but better than before. Your stomach was still slightly achy, but the terrible cramping was gone. You also didn't feel as cold and stiff as you previously had.

You sat up, this time without the room performing cartwheels as you did so, and you took that as a good sign.

The room was dimly lit, but you still noticed you were wearing different clothes. You also felt... cleaner than you'd expect, for lack of better word. You realized the implications were that one of the others had likely bathed and re-dressed you and you resolved not to think too much about it as you felt a blush start to creep up your neck.

A loud snore startled you and you looked over to see Drax asleep in a chair between the wall and your bed, an open magazine spread across his stomach where he must have fallen asleep reading it.

You quietly swung your feet over the bed, intent on stretching your legs a bit, but you were startled again when your feet touched down on the floor and a loud tinkling of bells set off, startling Drax awake in turn.

After a grunt and a rub of his eyes he looked at you disapprovingly, asking what you were doing.

"I was just going to walk around a bit," you answer, doing your best not to be snarky. "Why the hell are there bells trip-wired to my bed?"

"You're supposed to stay in bed. You kept trying to get up and falling. It was Rocket's idea so we'd hear you trying to escape."

It was your turn to make a disapproving face, but you supposed you couldn't exactly be mad at them for caring, even if it seemed unnecessary. "Well, why are you here?"

"We've been taking shifts to watch over you, Peter said we were waiting for your fever to break, but I told him waiting for your temperature to return to normal would be sufficient."

"Oh," is all you could say, brushing off his absurd literalness. "Um, thank you." you add quietly. You hadn't realized.

"Yes. Now will you go back to bed, or do you need help going to the toilet again?"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, each time you were almost awake enough to think you could walk the past couple days it was because you needed to use the toilet or you were going to vomit. I just assumed you were doing it again. You're very stubborn."

"No, Drax." you say, blushing fully now. You weren't sure if you were embarrassed more by his bluntness or the new knowledge that the others had to help you pee and clean up your sick. You didn't even want to think about if they had to wipe your ass. You'd literally die. "Even if I did, I can do it by myself. I feel much better now." It wasn't until then that it hit you what he had said. "Wait- Did you say two days?"

"I did."

"I've been out... for two days?"

"Yes."

"So... this whole time? ...You guys have been looking out for me?"

"Yes." Drax answered, seeming confused why you'd even ask. "Us and the doctor that came by yesterday." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"

You wiped at your eyes quickly, having wished he hadn't noticed the tears that sprang to your eyes and filled your waterline. "I'm not," you sniff, looking down a the bed. "Just... Thanks. You didn't need to do that, so thanks. You can go to bed now. I feel better now. Sorry."

Drax stood. "Why are you apologizing? That's what family is supposed to do." He picked up a thermometer that had been placed on your nightstand and aimed it at your forehead. "And we did need to. You are small and weak like Peter. You would have died if we hadn't." The thermometer beeped and Drax read it. "You're right, your temperature is almost back to normal. But I suggest you still go back to sleep."

You wanted to tell him he was being dramatic about the dying part, but then you remembered that you actually didn't really remember much past seeing your bloody vomit, and you had absolutely no memory of any doctor, so you didn't push it.

"If your fever is gone you no longer need to be watched. I'll let the others know. Goodnight." Drax said, walking around the bed towards the door.

"Uh, Drax?"

He turned to you. "Yes?"

You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Thanks again."

He returned the hug, patting you on the back as he said, "You don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same in return. Now sleep."

You pulled back from the hug and nodded, a gesture that you'd be good and go to sleep.

Drax seemed to want the confirmation of you getting back under the covers though, so with a light laugh huffed through your nose you crawled back between the sheets and obeyed. Seemingly satisfied, Drax finally left.

***

You woke the next morning feeling almost completely like yourself again.

You washed up and dressed, but not before removing the trip-wire bells from your bed, and then you made your way out of your room to get a glass of water and see if you could find the others.

Turned out, both the water and your teammates were all in the same place.

You walked into the kitchen to find everyone already inside. Before you could say anything Kraglin spoke up.

"Look! The world's worst patient lives!" he said with a grin.

"Nah, Krags, that's still you." Yondu corrected, giving you a wink as Peter agreed with him, but amended that it was a close race.

You walked over to a cabinet to get yourself a glass. "Drax told me what you guys did, and- well, thanks," you say walking over to the sink. "I mean, spare me the details, I don't want to hear anymore about it than what Drax already told me happened, but still, thanks. You didn't need to." You filled your glass and turned back to face them, sipping your water.

Yondu noted your blush and nudged you in the arm on his way to the coffee. "Don't mention it, kid."

This sentiment was met with nods and verbalizations of agreement from the others. You were family. That's what family did.

"Kay, but next time, which I hope there won't be, just stay in bed." Peter laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." you say, grumbling playfully.

"You hear that? Someone write that down." said Rocket, "We're going to hold you to that."

"Don't push it." you say, eyeing the raccoon.

"What? Your stubborn ass only tried to escape like a hundred times," Kraglin joked.

"And that's my cue to get to work," you say, setting your glass on the counter with the intent to run away from this conversation. However, you were stopped by Yondu grabbing your sleeve with an "Ah, Ah" and Gamora shoving a bowl of Yarrow Root across the table with the command to "Eat something first. You don't want to set yourself back and get sick again."

You sighed but didn't argue, knowing it was better to comply and realizing you were a little hungry anyway. You took a root from the bowl and bit into it to satisfy your friends.

That's when Peter speaks up and tells you that the doctor said you needed to take it easy for at least a day or two.

You narrowed your eyes. "When?"

"When she was here."

"When was that?" You take another bite of the root.

"Couple days ago."

You swallow. "Well then I'm considering that as time served." you say, deciding you'd take your breakfast to go.

Drax blocked your path.

"Um, can I get through?"

"No. Quill said this might happen. I'm stopping you from escaping. Finish your breakfast."

You shoot a glare at Peter before giving a hopeful look to Rocket. "You can talk some sense into them, right?"

Rocket shrugged. "Not my problem." before collecting Groot and leaving the kitchen with Mantis, who mouthed the word "Sorry" to you as they left.

You sighed, knowing there sure as hell wasn't any reasoning with the other five. "Really? This is what we're gonna do?"

"Yep." Peter grinned. Yondu and Kraglin simply shrugged behind their coffee.

Once you relented and sat down Gamora stood and stated that it wouldn't kill you to rest after being sick before leaving with Drax, who had apparently decided his job as security guard was now over. He said he was glad you were feeling better before following Gamora to the door and saying to her, without consideration that you could still hear, something to the tune that he imagined you felt better... now that you weren't puking and soiling yourself.

You choked on your water.

The other three pretended to be utterly fixated with the table and walls of the kitchen and you covered your face with your hands and moaned, "Next time please let me die."

"Will ya settle for us forgettin' it happened and never speakin' of it again?" Kraglin asked, fighting back a chuckle.

"Yes please." you squeaked from behind your hands.

Seeing an opportunity and taking it Peter added, "You still have to take the next couple days easy though."

"Anything!" you promise, lowering your head to the table.

"I think we got ourselves a deal." Yondu laughed, getting up to put his now empty coffee cup in the sink. "C'mon squirt, I'm sure we can find somethin' to take your mind off it."

And you did. You spent the next couple days just hanging around the ship with the guys and watching old movies Peter had collected over the years, telling funny stories, playing cards, and actually keeping your promise to let your body rest. Before long the whole ordeal was all but forgotten, but you were still always grateful for your family.

You knew no matter what, they had your back.

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