#3. a bad agent is worse than no agent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tmpestuous · 2 months ago

Text

someone to stay

summary: bucky offers you solace as your mental fatigue rears its head.

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

warnings: angst, reader anxiety/depression, fluff, non-sexual nudity, a comforting buck <3

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this was inspired by my own issues right now because i definitely need it at the moment :’)

Getting out of bed was always the most difficult part of your day. Even when you were feeling okay, even when nothing was immediately wrong. You would wake up and stare into the void, blankets smothering your body and eyelids still heavy from the bit of sleep you’d managed to get.

There wasn’t anything pressing your anxiety, but having been out of your routine for a few weeks always left you feeling unmotivated. After having been sidelined from missions for a multitude of reasons—injuries, mental stability, and a dwindling success rate—you had nothing to do. None of your side hobbies entertained you long enough to keep you busy, so you fell into the same cycle. You sometimes wished you could sleep all day or even just stay stagnant in bed, but you knew it’d only make the fatigue worse.

Today, however, was not one of those days where you pushed yourself out of bed. Not bothered to check the time, you closed your eyes again. It was raining outside anyways, the perfect weather to stay cuddled in bed for. Soon enough, you found some sleep again, even if you’d regret it later.

Bucky, who was not sidelined from missions, had just come back from one, more than eager to see you. He was back earlier than expected, so he only figured you wouldn’t be in your usual spot waiting for him in the hangar of the compound. It was a bit past noon, so he assumed you were keeping busy elsewhere.

After a quick debrief, he made it to your shared room, only to be led to confusion at the curtains still drawn and all of the lights off. He knew how much you hated sleeping in too late, only ever sleeping past 9 if you were really exhausted and/or hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Even then, you never let it get past 11 before you were up and out of bed.

Bucky knew you were taking your suspension a bit rougher than expected. He hated seeing you upset and he was even willing to skip out on a few missions to stay with you, but you’d insisted otherwise, saying “the bad guys don’t take breaks.”

He never liked leaving you. Most of your missions had the two of you together, SHIELD thinking you worked well together even outside of your relationship. Going on missions without you meant he was always stuck with some reckless, inexperienced agent who wasn’t half as skilled as you a lot of the time. It was why he only liked the ones where he was with Sam or Steve, at least not having to stress about saving anyone.

He missed you on every single one. Your quips, how satisfying it was to see you kick people’s asses, and how swiftly you did just about everything. But Bucky also knew you needed a break. Your anxiety was more rampant lately, and it was affecting all of your skills on the field. The decision to bench you didn’t come easy to anyone, but especially not you.

You honestly had little to no idea what had you so anxious to start with, but anything else that triggered your anxiety only amplified it. Bucky was so reluctant to let Steve suspend you, but after you got seriously injured on a mission for lack of attention, he couldn’t argue against it anymore.

“You can’t be serious,” you said to Steve, tears in your eyes. “I’ve been injured so many times, why does that even matter?”

“It’s not just the injury,” Steve countered. “You’ve been off your game. I can’t risk losing one of our best members because you’re distracted.”

“I’m not dis—”

“You being distracted is how you ended up with a broken arm and a head injury,” he cut you off, making you look away from him. “You’re gonna end up dead if you keep on like this. I can’t deal with that loss, and neither can Bucky.”

Snapping your gaze back at Steve, you scoffed.

“So this is about Bucky?”

“This is about you, Y/n,” Steve said, his tone slightly more irritated. “He begged me not to bench you, said you just needed some time but even he knows putting you on the field again is risking your life.”

Wiping your tears away, you said nothing in response. You knew he was right, but the last thing you needed was to give in. It’d make you crumble, it’d make this whole situation real and you knew where you’d end up.

Your conversation ended when Bucky walked in the room.

It was the right decision after all. However, Bucky’s chest ached knowing how low you were feeling. Knowing that you were doing everything just to get by, yet nothing at all. He hadn’t seen you in a melancholy state for years, but it always scared him. He barely made it out of his own episodes sometimes, panic manifesting through his bones. His worry only worsened at the thought of not being able to pull you from the darkness, the way you’d done so for him many times.

Seeing you under the sheets, sound asleep past noon didn’t settle Bucky’s own anxiety. He was out on this mission for eight days, but you’d sounded okay when you spoke to him over the phone every night.

Were you not getting any sleep? Were you falling asleep really late? Or was your current funk really getting to you?

Bucky set his duffel bag on the floor, shutting the door behind him. He decided against opening the curtains until you were awake, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your sleeping body, placing his flesh hand on your cheek gently.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead a few times. “Let me see those pretty eyes, doll.”

Furrowing your eyebrows before peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with your favorite super soldier, a smile creeping on your face.

“Hi,” you said groggily, Bucky kissing your forehead again. “You’re back early.”

“Got the job done quickly,” he fed your curiosity. “What are you still doing asleep, doll? Are you okay?”

“What time is it?” You said, still unmotivated to get up from your lying position.

“Almost 1,” Bucky answered before your eyes widened and you sat up, frantic about how the morning got away from you. “Hey, hey,” Bucky placed his hands on your shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with oversleeping once in a while.”

You shook your head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as you rubbed your eyes. “I shouldn’t have slept that long.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then your cheek, then pulled your hands away from your eyes. The bags under them didn’t go without notice, Bucky getting more worried than earlier. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, and him not being here to soothe you must have made it worse.

“Is everything okay?” He asked again, never getting an answer from you.

You sighed. “I don’t really know, I’m just- I’m always tired and don’t wanna do anything even though I know I shouldn’t just stay in bed. I was gonna wake up early today to see if I could get moving but then I barely slept and thought a few more hours could be useful but now—”

“Shh,” Bucky said, pulling you into his embrace, rubbing your back softly. “There is still a lot of time left in the day, but I don’t mind sleeping this Sunday away with you after the mission I just had.” He kissed the top of your head a few times. “We can shower then eat and then rest. Sounds good?”

You nodded, with a muffled ‘okay’ into his chest before pulling away, Bucky standing and grasping your hand in his to head to the bathroom.

Bucky turned the shower on, letting it run to get warm before turning back to you. After you helped Bucky take his tac suit off, he helped you shed your pajamas. The both of you took your underwear off, Bucky checking the water before you stepped in.

You always enjoyed showering with Bucky, most after a mission when you were both tired. Though this was different since you weren’t the one coming home, the sentiment of being tired remained the same.

Bucky could tell you were tense, that something was still bothering you. He never wanted to pry, so he massaged the tension out of your shoulders, getting you to relax your posture a bit. You both worked your way around lathering each other with soap, your eyes doing their usual routine of scanning Bucky’s body for any cuts and bruises. Bucky decided to wash your hair, finding any means of making you feel relaxed. You sighed under his touch, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as he rinsed your hair.

“Steve mentioned you going back on the field again,” Bucky eased into the conversation. “You feeling up for it?” Much to Bucky’s surprise, you shook your head, prompting him to lift your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You know you can talk to me.”

Sighing again, you leaned into his touch. “I’m not ready.”

“I thought you wanted to get back,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.

“I do,” you nodded. “But I just feel so… out of it. Like my mind is out of fuel and it’s putting my body on pause. I have no energy lately, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.”

Bucky looked at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He’d been there, where his body was craving one thing but his mind just never allowed him to satisfy any of his desires. Depression didn’t always look the same, but he could tell when it was starting to consume you.

The restless nights, the fatigue, the lack of energy and motivation. It was a stark contrast to your usual, productive self. Sometimes Bucky would have to slow you down for doing too many things at once, so it pained him to see you not want to do anything at all.

He decided right then and there he’d take a pause from any missions until you were okay. Until he could see the spark in your eye again, the pep in your step. The energy being revitalized.

“It happens, baby,” he reassured. “You’ve helped me through some of my funks, so let me help you out of yours, hm?”

“You don’t have to, Bucky,” you shook your head, but he shushed you, a chaste kiss placed on your lips. “I’m serious, you don’t have to pause your life for me. People still need help and I’ll get out of my fatigue stint eventually, so—”

“You know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise, right?” He shut you up again, offering you a smirk and another peck to the lips. “I would drop everything for you. At any time, on any day, at any given moment. You are my world, doll. If you’re not okay, then my world isn’t okay.”

“But what if they really need you—”

“They won’t,” Bucky grabbed the comb to detangle your hair. “Now come on, let me help you ease your mind, hm?”

Knowing you couldn’t say no to him, you turned so your back was facing him, Bucky smoothly getting any knots out of your hair.

He knew how much you loved it when he did your hair, knowing the process was super long and you didn’t want to do it half of the time. When he first heard you complain about having to do it, he made you teach him your whole routine for whenever you were feeling unmotivated to. It was one of many things he eagerly learned for you, always wanting to pamper you.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed over the fact that you had him back, here with you as he did everything in his power to clear your head from the anxious thoughts, you couldn’t help but tear up.

When he finished detangling your hair, holding it up with a clip, he saw you crying, quickly pulling you in his arms, kissing you everywhere he could.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Once he let you return the favor of washing his hair, you made him sit on the built-in bench in the shower so you wouldn’t have to reach up the whole time.

Bucky loved touching you, but he swore to everything that he loved your touch even more. Your hands were so soft and gentle, with each lather and rinse of his head.

“Your hair’s getting long again,” you said, running your fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, the length now passing his ear. “Are you gonna cut it?”

Bucky shrugged, his hands finding comfort in your waist as you stood in front of him. He placed a kiss on each of your hips then your stomach before looking up at you.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered before standing, kissing your lips again. He knew how much you liked his short hair when he first cut it, but deep down you loved his long hair too. You just never forced him to keep one or the other, knowing how many memories his hair held.

Bucky loved how well you knew him, how well you understood him. It was the main reason why he took his time to do the same for you.

Once you were both out of the shower and dressed, Bucky picked up his phone to order some food. You’d told him you were craving Chinese the night before on your phone call while he was away, so he ordered all of your favorites as you finished drying your hair in the bathroom.

After eating dinner, Bucky slid under the covers of your shared bed, extending his metal arm for you to grab as you slid in next to him. Your head found its usual spot on his chest, both of his arms encasing you in the pressure you sought so many times, your left leg over his right one.

“Thank you,” you said softly as Bucky rubbed your back just the way you liked it. “For never judging me.”

“I would never plan to,” he said, using his right hand to lift your chin up. “We’re human. We have our moments where we need a break, a reset. You taught me that when I needed to hear it. Don’t think that it excludes you, my love.”

Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss that said more than enough.

Pulling away, you looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Force yourself to do your hair routine every week,” Bucky joked, making you roll your eyes playfully with a smirk.

You pressed a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it again. “I love you.”

“I love you more, doll,” he said, massaging your scalp to soothe you until you fell asleep.

Bucky could watch you be this peaceful forever, vowing to spend the rest of his days making sure you were okay. He always knew you’d return the favor, enjoying every moment spent with you like this, comforted best in his arms.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff

681 notes · View notes

greg-montgomery · 9 months ago

Text

sleepover - dbf!hotch x reader

for @hotchnerholic who requested: your dad went out of town so you’re staying at aaron’s place because you don’t like being alone <3

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Honey?” a warm voice whispered in your ear, and a hand shook your shoulder softly.

Your eyes were way too heavy for you to care, so you buried your head further in the sofa cushions and tried to fall back asleep.

The voice insisted. “Sweetie? Let me take you to bed.”

“Let me take you to bed.”

The Aaron Hotchner just offered to take you to bed and you were sleeping?

Using your hand to cover up a yawn, you opened your eyes and found his beautiful brown ones already looking at you. You blinked at him slowly as if you were a cat trying to communicate that you loved him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping the side of your face. “Your back is gonna hurt in the morning if you spend the night on the couch.”

“Yeah…I…I fell asleep watching TV.”

“It’s admiring that you managed to fall asleep while a thriller is playing,” he joked, and offered you a pretty smile.

You turned your head towards the TV, and caught a glimpse of a guy in a mask sharpening a knife. “Now that is exactly the reason why I didn’t wanna stay home alone.”

Aaron chuckled and placed his hand on top of yours. “You’re safe here.”

It was hard to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he was this close to you, so you tried to change the subject.

“I fell asleep while watching Shrek. I guess the thriller started after that.”

“Hm…You wanna watch it with me? Or do you wanna go to bed?”

Yes to the bed option, but only if it’s with you, you thought. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen so watching a movie with him was the next best thing.

“Sure, let’s watch it.” You smiled, and he smiled back. “Only, I’m warning you, I get scared very easily.”

“You don’t say.”

“Don’t make fun.” You pointed at his face.

“I would never,” he said, and leaned back on the couch stretching out his arm.

The space next to him looked so inviting. You could just curl up in his arms and not worry about anything else.

The fact that you were staying at his house was heavenly in the first place. But watching a movie with him? That was beyond your wildest dreams. You expected him to be gone all day at work. This? This felt like staying over at your boyfriend’s house and having a movie night with him.

“Wait,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. “I have popcorn.”

“Oh…yes please!”

You followed him to the kitchen, and observed him while he was filling a big bowl with popcorn.

His jacket and tie were off, and his sleeves were rolled up just enough for his forearms to drive you crazy. A man his age shouldn’t get this type of reactions from you, but he did anyway. As your father’s best friend he was forbidden fruit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to want him in secret.

“How was work?”

“Could’ve been better,” he sighed. And then he looked at you with a grin that made him more irresistible than you could’ve ever imagined. “But I have you here so it’s not too bad.”

What was breathing? “Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Thank you for trusting me to keep you safe,” he said, and signaled you with a head movement to follow him back to the living room.

“I mean…you’re an FBI agent. Who would have been better for the job?”

“Right,” he laughed.

The movie had started for a while now, so it was hard to follow the plot. Not that you necessarily cared about it – the only thing that was occupying your head the entire time was Aaron sitting next to you, his cologne, and how your fingers brushed a couple of times while you were getting popcorn.

Zoned out as you were, a loud sound coming from the movie made your heart almost stop and you hid behind your hands with a squeal. “Shit!”

Things only got worse, as the killer on the screen seemed to be unstoppable, chasing one character after the other. You curled up in the corner of the couch, grabbing a cushion to protect yourself.

“Hey…” Aaron said, looking certainly amused. “Come here.”

Careful not to look too eager, you went close to him and let yourself into his embrace. His arm rested around your shoulders, and he pulled you in close enough for your head to rest against his.

“Better now?”

“Mhm…” you could only say, as your heart was ready to jump out of your chest.

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear. “I won’t let him get to you.”

“Promise?” you whispered back and looked up at him.

“Promise,” he said and kissed your forehead.

part 2

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #dbf!hotch #hotch 🪐

1K notes · View notes

writingmeraki · 4 months ago

Text

kiss the shit out of you — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you thought there'd never be a time when you would experience first-hand jealousy but turns out you aren't an exception to this emotion.

( or in which your boss seungcheol loves to find new ways to push your buttons. and push you towards mingyu too. you might just punch him or thank him. )

pairing: secret!agent mingyu x secret!agent reader, established stage. genre : fluff, angstish. warnings : jealousy, mentions of bars and drinks, death threats, no actual kissing guys im sorry

a/n : pri comeback with another secret agent mingyu drabble. who cheered. not a full on comeback but hey i picked this up from my abandoned clusters of wips and welp this is how it turned out, let me know what you think !! also urm if the writing is a lil yk wonky pls bare w me it's been a long while <3 also the summary probs sucks my bad g again it's been aaa whileee :DDDDDD

word count : 1.8k

“I want to kill you.”

You glared at Cheol as you clenched your fist to your side resisting the urge to punch the shit-eating grin off his face.

Not an ideal sentence to tell your boss but the situation he’d kept you in was going the way he predicted and not how you thought it would.

It started earlier in the day when he called Mingyu and you along with Chan and Seokmin in to do a mission which would require disguises and putting on an act. It was simple really he said, you all had to attend a gala, which had the member of a gang you’d been trying to catch attending as well.

Butter him up, a few drinks later and he’d let the information you seeked slip out with ease. This particular member was one who caused a lot of mishaps, knowingly or unknowingly, he was hard to track but this was a sure tip as his name was also on the guest list.

It all seemed okay until he told you the twist. You would be the servers along with Chan and Seokmin. You looked at him in confusion wondering if he forgot Mingyu was also called in and was right beside you also wondering something similar.

“What about him?”

“Oh right. He’s going to be attending as a couple with Yura.” He said it nonchalantly while looked towards you,

“It shouldn’t be a bother to you right? Considering it’s just a few hours and most importantly for the job.” He had a smug look on his face to which you slowly narrowed your eyes at him. Mingyu was going to oppose, but you shushed him.

“It’s for the job Gyu, it wouldn’t matter to me.” You knew he had more to say but he just frowned and nodded at your words.

You knew what card he had been playing, you could remember him asking you that what if there came a time your partner would have to act as a couple with someone else would you have gotten jealous and you also remember you scoffing at him saying, it would be for a mission only anyways, why would you be? He protested saying it was natural to feel jealous but you told him that then you would need to get a grip instead of being unprofessional.

Now you could feel your words bite you back as you tried not to glare at the way she seemed more than excited to be with ‘the most sought out’ agent.

You scoffed at yourself, feeling an even worse guilt at being jealous. The kind where you trusted him, but you couldn’t help the ugly emotion to rise up and as time went it seemed to rile up.

It was going to be one of the rookies, her first big assignment being this. Her name was Yura, from what you recalled.

Your relationship with Mingyu was not exactly public. Again it was your idea. It seemed all your ideas were eventually coming to bite you in the back. Maybe this was your karma for something.

Eventually looking away from the couple, you sighed as you sat down by the bar.

“Oye, you aren’t supposed to sit, you’re the server here.” Before he could speak further, Chan elbowed your boss to which he glared at him but eventually gulped a little when he saw the look on your face.

Now, Choi Seungcheol was no coward. But he knew better than to already fuel a fire that might just burn him alive. Quite literally. He thinks he’s spoken enough when he sees your stare harden.

“Haha, or not, yeah um…continue to sit as you wish, besides we’re just back up here…I’ll uh, I’ll go finish the um…cleaning the glasses.”

“Get me a drink. Strong.”

And as your pretend bartender colleague made you an actual whisky on the rocks — training required prior days to mission — your eyes automatically once again drifted off to him.

Your partner, your boyfriend, highlighting the your factor harshly in your thoughts as you looked at the pretend couple.

Jealousy, you learnt that day, is an ugly emotion but a fascinating one too. It might slowly chip away at your self esteem and build on a pile of undeserving guilt but it somehow helps in emphasising just how much one means to the other.

It was a horrible pit at the bottom of your stomach but an unflattering brush in the depth of your heart. Both making you more confused and therefore, anger being the only emotion that would make sense.

You could hear her giggles as she leaned in closer to his side, her arm practically cushioned between his and you clenched your molars in the assumed anger.

It was as if he could sense your gaze. He always could, since a long time actually. As though his mind seemed to embed you, your presence right into his unconscious to the point he could practically feel your gazes on him.

Maybe an exaggeration but he thinks when it comes to you, it all seemed to fall less.

His eyes flickered to see where you were directing yours at, and immediately he had to put in his all to not just move away. He was trying his all honestly, the reason he accepted was because he was sure you were also okay with it.

Professionally. Of course.

Emotionally? Personally?

You may have just been on the edge of punching someone. Seungcheol, you wish.

The way you were looking seemed nonchalant but this was the man that loved – loves you. Of course he knew when you were anything but.

Before you could even move your attention to him from where it had darted to – Yura subtly moved her hand above Mingyu’s. It was so subtle but you were very observant, unfortunately in this case, hand clenching around the now almost empty glass of alcohol.

It seemed in a flash, he abruptly pulled away, murmuring an excuse of getting another drink and you rolled your eyes at the pet names that smoothly rolled out of Yura’s tongues for him. You could feel your sanity level drop at that point.

Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself as you shut your eyes for a second, that this was a mission. A job. You couldn’t, shouldn’t fuck this up because you can’t keep your newly acquired emotions in check—

A hand on top of yours was the next thing you felt. And even before you opened your eyes to face the owner of the hand, you already knew.

“Hey.” Minyu softly whispered, facing affront while you turned your head in his direction. He was close but not enough to seem suspicious, hand being hidden from the view of the others at the table.

Even though it was just a small touch, he kept it there as he spoke out to Chan. Mumblings of the drinks, a few details about the information he managed to get.

Yet all you could focus on was the warmth that radiated from his hand above yours. The way his hair was styled, the way his longer strands stood out perfectly, the way his pinkish lips moved as he spoke, eyes briefly shifting to yours when he did and it seemed he noticed your blatant checking out as one corner of his lip rose up.

Dammnit, his suits were always your weakness.

“Hi” He tried again, briefly shifting his head in your direction which seemed to snap you out of your daze as you blinked a few times.

“Hey.” You turned your hand that was facing down, and he briefly looked over and intertwined his fingers through yours.

Chan hastily looked over as he made the drinks, deciding he could probably slow down making the few drinks, and not like he was an expert at being fast anyway.

“Be careful.” He whispered to your pair, to which you looked at him and rolled your eyes but gave a short nod.

“Are you alright?” As Mingyu asked, you froze up for a moment, wondering if your obvious discomfort was already known to him.

Gulping, you nodded because it seemed easier to nod than to let your words out in fear of stumbling over reasons for your discomfort.

Jealousy, was again, odd. It made you ashamed, a lump in the throat due to feeling like perhaps you were just overthinking it all.

You didn’t even realise you were blatantly showing your nervousness, eyes looking at anywhere but his and mulling your bottom lip.

“You don’t need to worry over anything, ‘s going fine okay?”

“I can see that.”

The words came out sharply than intended, and he blinked owlishly, eyebrow raising at you with an emotion that seemed familiar to both confusion and wonder in his eyes.

“You don’t seem okay though.” He bit the bullet and told you his actual thoughts. He would have even said his assumptions but he did not want to tread too far.

“I’ll be fine, stop worrying about me. Your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate that.”

Aha. There it was.

He scanned your face. The scoff was prominent as you narrowed your eyes ahead.

“You know you're the only one that matters to me right?” And even though he was tempted to tease you at the moment, he figured he'd save it for later.

His hand squeezed yours, as if to amplify his words, their meaning to you. How much he truly meant them, he hoped that it would somehow reach to you through the simple motion of squeezing your hand tighter.

And somehow, he knows it did when the crease between your brow slowly disappeared, when the scowl on your face dropped and a seemingly exhausted sigh escaped you.

Jealousy was…tiring.

“Yes, I know.”

Without thinking, he leaned in closer to you, mouth grazing your ear as he spoke, the sudden warmness of his breathing so close making you shudder slightly.

“Tell you what baby? You can simply kiss the out of me when we get back. You know, remove all your anger, I heard it's a great exercise.”

The abruptness of the statement made you pull away and you couldn't help but giggle at his words, feeling a lot lighter than previously. A warm feeling spreads on your cheeks at the thought of his pink lips captivating yours.

And of course, no one in this world could surprise you the way Kim Mingyu does.

Well two could play at this.

Leaning in closer, your eyes gleamed with an equally mischievous flair to his, you whispered, only for his ears.

“As if I need permission to kiss the shit out of you, I hope you know I can and will do it anytime, anywhere.”

His smile turned into a smirk as he glanced back at the table, seeing how his colleague was occupying the others, knowing he could go off for a few.

Looking at you determinedly, he stood up, pushing his hand forward,

“Bathroom break?”

And of course, anywhere Kim Mingyu would go, you'd too.

Placing your head in his, you nodded with a chuckle at how unserious this was getting,

“Sure.”

Lucky for the both of you, it seemed you were good at keeping your words. And kissing of course.

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys ; @toplinehyunjin ; @cherrylovescheol ; @stagefrjghts

( if you want to be added just send an ask/reply to this !)

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !

486 notes · View notes

nephilimbrute · 2 months ago

Text

ok since you guys don't know anything about my agent 8's personality, i'm doing a huge infodump on them. enjoy

Agent 8; they/them, nonbinary — 24 as of current time, in a relationship with Agent 4 and Captain 3

they're pretty, but also one of the worst people you'll meet. everyone who met them has had something terrible happen to them, basically a bad omen...yet they still think they're a saint! 8 is very narcissistic, but also very self-critical. they think they can be the only one to do something, that they're the best at it...but they know this is wrong, so they hate themself for it

they think they're a very fragile and innocent being, like a deer. they want to live a calm and steady life, no excessively loud or overwhelming sounds and music, just them and their close ones. they enjoy writing poetry and creating art to the likes of vincent van gogh, but also impressionism in general. they have a very bad memory now, so they want to capture the present time as best as they can if it ever gets worse. often times, 8 thinks about any big events that are coming up in the near future (concerts, festivals, etc.). they don't like to think about the future outside of these things (was team present if that wasn't obvious)

they used to be full of emotion, expressing and voicing their thoughts well. but slowly over time, they've became numb to most things to prevent themself from being embarassed by...sadness. they think being upset is embarassing, and are easily annoyed by gloomy people. they have such little sympathy, but it still exists. they are capable of love! it's not hard to crack through their shell, nor do they even have one. 8 themself is aware of how they've changed over the years, and they want to go back to how they used to be; loving, sympathetic, mindful of others. they do feel very sorry for the change in their personality, but the partial sanitization that was done to them makes it difficult to revert to their old self

8 feels like they're putting up a front when they want to be nice, and, they can be compassionate and apologetic sometimes. they deeply wish for anyone who recognized them pre-octo expansion to forgive them, even if they did nothing wrong

because of the whole octo expansion situation, 8 has developed truman syndrome, paranoia, and heavily dislikes anything involving a smart AI or robotics. this is one of the reasons why marina pisses them off so badly. to 8, they think that they've caused no harm, and every mistake they've done was not entirely their fault. they make a lot of people uncomfortable in some way without touching anyone or saying anything. despite all that, they respect people's personal space a lot!..other than pearl and marina, who they used to watch sleep before being kicked out

now, onto their relationships. 8 is doing fine with agent 4, he's nice to them so they like him... but so is cap3, yet 8 might be one of the worst things that ever happened to her. cap3 really wants some alone time and hates being stared at, and 8 does the exact opposite of that. they don't touch her at her request, but they Will stare at her whenever she's doing anything, at any given time. they don't process in their mind that they want to make her uncomfortable, they just sort of...do?

^ i only limited this to a bit so i won't delve Too deep and go off topic. you can ask about that if you want

i guess you could say they have some kind of parental issues? i don't know, they can't remember who their biological parents are anyways. they have a strong attachment to marina though, can't decide if they wanna be her or want her to adopt them. kind of "eh" with pearl, still respects him nonetheless

congratulations! if you've read until the end, here's a human 8 doodle :3

#splatoon #agent 8 #splatagents

291 notes · View notes

tkingfisher · 2 years ago

Note

So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

#long #rambling #writing

5K notes · View notes

whumpchester · 1 month ago

Text

Sam!whump wincest fic recs

Only fics with less than 10k hits. All are rated M-E and bottom!Sam unless mentioned otherwise. Check the archive warnings.

❤️ = my favorites

Rampant by puckity (6.1k words) ❤️

What happened to Sam between Alvin Jenkins’ disappearance and Dean’s arrival is the stuff of nightmares, and it haunts both him and Dean long after Hibbing has left their rearview mirror. / One of my favorite Sam whump fics, trauma/dissociation/nightmares, coda to 1.15 The Benders

Dirty Words by angelszn (1k words) ❤️

Sam, wanting to be loved, gets on his knees for Dean. / Another favorite. It's short but so thick with atmosphere. And hot.

in plain sight by autumncolour (2.9k words) ❤️

The video is sent anonymously. It works its way through the bowels of the FBI and lands in Agent Henriksen’s inbox at 3:15 PM one Friday afternoon. It’s accompanied by a note: Aren’t these the boys you’ve been tracking? Maybe don’t watch right after lunch; it’s not pretty. / My fav serial killer Winchester fic!

Put Up Wet by ani_coolgirl (1.6k words) ❤️

Sometimes, Sam doesn't want to be anything more than something to be used. Dean indulges him. / Not necessarily "dark" like the others, but I still feel like it fits here considering it's about Sam's lack of bodily autonomy. From authors notes: "Sam copes with his lack of personhood by making himself a cum rag for his brother."

Consequentialism and Deontology by Dyed_Red (15.2k words, series of 2 works)

Consisting of Lesser Evils, a 5.01 coda to when Meg and her demons come to Sam, Dean and Bobbys motel room. Bad-guys-made-them-do-it rape but it's so much more than that.

And its second part/sequel Mean Ends ❤️ from Sam's POV in the aftermath, with some of the best prose and inner dialogue re:Sam I've seen in fic.

Lovedrunk by TheQuietWings (1k words)

This is how Dean loves Sam best, sloppy drunk and needy. / Dean justifying/deluding himself that raping Sam is just him "looking after Sam/big brother taking care of Sammy"

to hell and back by unhappy_ghost (6.3k words)

The Mark is changing Dean. It's turning him into something he's not. That's what Sam tells himself. / MoC Dean. Very angsty and hot and with amazing Sam characterisation. Read til the end!

trapped in the Garden by apex__predator (3.3k words)

It's been a week since Sam got his soul back. When Dean slips into his bed, desperate for what they had before the Cage, Sam lets him have it. He thought it'd be easier to give him what he wants than to explain- and it was, until it all becomes too much and he shuts down during sex. / Rape/Cage memories and dissociation during sex

Hold Me Close (Don't Let Me Go) by themegalosaurus (2.1k words)

It’s like living in the shadow of a dam. The town will flood eventually. Sam just doesn’t know when. / Bottom Dean (implied switching), Sam dissociating post-soullessness

Colder Bodies by angelszn (560 words)

Missouri feels sick to her stomach thinking about what those sweet boys have become. Or, worse still, what those seemingly-sweet boys already were when they came into her house so long ago. How they hid it so well that even she couldn’t see it. / I read this without reading the tags first bc I already liked the author and like. After I finished and the realization hit me– Whew. I recommend reading it like that if you're not easily triggered.

#wincest #wincest fic #wincest fic rec #fic recs #fic rec #.txt

160 notes · View notes

umbrellajamming · 5 months ago

Text

Azrael: Agent of the Bat #56 - No Man's Land Dick: "Scared, kid?" Tim: "Not really. A little nervous, I guess." Tim: "Who am I kidding? I'm scared. I feel like those soldiers must have felt right before D-Day." Dick: "D-Day, as in World War Two? You must stay awake in history class." Tim: "We're only up to the Spanish-American War, but I saw the Spielberg movie. Really bloody." Dick: "I hope it doesn't get that bad." Tim: "It won't, will it?" Tim: "Will it?"

Okay, several things I enjoy about this moment.

1. I'm just being so well-fed in terms of great Dick & Tim interactions in this era. Cataclysm, Brotherhood of the Fist, Road to NML, breaking into NML in Robin #67 with classic annoying-older-brother!Dick and Tim panicking about his safety when Dick does a quick death fake-out (typical, honestly lol)... And now with an introspective moment to themselves in the calm before the storm - in Azrael's book no less, lol! I wonder if this came from Dennis O'Neil as something he wanted to include or if it was collaboratively planned as a building-tension moment by the writing/editing teams plotting NML.

2. Tim confiding in Dick my beloved <3 But also - Tim lying at first that he's not really scared, before deciding to just be honest. He has these moments of such earnestness at times (not only with Dick (also YJ, Bruce, Steph, Cass), but often) and they're even more striking because of how prone he is to lying, secrecy, glossing over things and pretending to be fine, etc. most of the time.

He's still pretty young here, barely 15 if that, and his tendencies definitely get worse over time, but he's already wrestled with lying to his Dad, Ariana, Steph, and his other friends, already pretended to be fine to Dick's face in Contagion and Legacy when he was actively dying or under threat of doing so again, refused to tell his Dad he was ever even sick, lied to Bruce's face about Secret, etc... It just sticks out to me so much whenever he chooses to go - yeah, okay, I'll be open with you right now even if it makes me vulnerable.

3. Dick not answering him!! Is that last panel, where we can't see him over Tim's shoulder even though he's positioned right behind him in the others, implying that Dick straight up vanished in order to avoid having to lie or be vulnerable himself lmfao? (I mean, probably not, but the thought is v. funny.)

On the other hand, Dick's silence as a type of honesty and vulnerability in and of itself... We know that as much as Dick likes teasing Tim, he also likes to comfort him, to be that figure of strength and reassurance to him. For him to be the one asking Tim if he's scared in the first place, and then not be able to scrape up anything more than "yeah, hope it doesn't get as bad as literal D-Day" and foreboding silence when Tim admits that he is scared...

It makes me think of that contrasting moment in Murderer/Fugitive later on, where Dick does tell Tim the comforting lie, that he'll always be safe with Batman and Nightwing, that everything will be okay, and desperately wants Tim to believe it.

No such comforting lies in No Man's Land, apparently.

#Dick and Tim #Dick Grayson #Tim Drake #No Man's Land #batfam #dcu #Cam reads comics #Cam posts #DC Comics panels #Nightwing #Robin #missing-moment fic where Dick disappearing from behind Tim is because he's settling down to sit next to him #and they have a longer conversation about NML and the trials ahead of them #with the bleak backdrop of ruined Gotham all around them

235 notes · View notes

to-thelakes · 9 months ago

Text

concussed

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; after you are attacked by the latest unsub, luke does his best to take care of you while you suffer from a concussion.

warnings; hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, minor injury, vomiting, stubborn reader, reader is concussed, a bit of a enemies to lovers but not really enemies

notes; i wrote this thing last night, i wanted to write something angsty because i wasn't feeling great and so i found an angry confession prompt but then it sort of just spiralled away from the anger and we have this! i sat and did some research on concussions (and u can sleep while concussed contrary to popular belief) so this should be accurate-ish! i might do a part two but for now, here it is <3

ao3 / masterlist

The case was taking a toll on your team and you wanted to try and pretend that it was okay. But it wasn’t. You continued to hit dead-end, after dead-end. Your profile didn’t seem to be leading you to any plausible suspect and the killer was devolving into a spree. And as much as being unable to solve the case was bothering you, something else was.

Luke fucking Alvez.

Honestly, you got along with Luke amazingly, most of the time. You’d had a rocky start when he had helped the team with finding the fugitives. He preferred to work alone which infuriated you because you were used to working in a team. He was defensive, reluctant to work with you and just annoying. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was but everything he did made your jaw clench and you wanted to punch his stupidly handsomely angular jaw.

JJ noticed it almost immediately when he began to work with the team. She often did her best to keep the peace between you and that had led to Rossi dragging you into his office more than once to try and understand what was going on. Hotch did the same before he left and then Emily did but every time, you made it clear that you didn’t have any issues with him.

Because you didn’t. He just ticked you off and after him spending so much time with BAU, the irritation slowly began to seep away. But there was something about the way he was acting on this case that was irritating you again. It was tipping you over the edge and you were ready to hit him if he stepped out of line.

And it just got worse when Emily kept assigning you to do tasks together. You assumed she was trying to heal the rift that had suddenly formed between the two of you but if anything, it had just made it all worse. You were walking on eggshells around him and he was doing the same with you. There was no harmony, no talking. It was just two frustrated agents, doing a really bad job at doing their jobs.

You were beginning to think maybe that’s why you were finding it so hard to understand the case but then, Reid managed to figure something out. Which led to the team leading an assault into a warehouse where they believed the victim was being held.

In the car, everybody had been quiet, only the necessary things were said. Garcia called and answered all of Reid’s questions about the location. The team coordinated with SWAT. And when you arrived, you got out and Prentiss ordered the team to take the different exits. Of course, you were paired up with Luke.

But you had to focus on the Unsub and getting the victim out safe. Which is why you did your best to ignore the ticking anger in your chest that was threatening to explode at any given moment. Luke took first position, opening the door and stepping in. He flicked his flashlight around, keeping his gun up before he nodded, giving you the all-clear to step in.

The warehouse was filled to the brim with wooden crates and the entrance led to a two-way split-off. So, Luke nodded to one side, indicating you to take it. You nodded and stepped towards it. There was the distant sound of voices but there was no way of being able to locate where it was coming from. So, you headed down the crate corridor.

You were quick on your feet but thorough as you used your flashlight to check any blind spots. You were not going to get caught unawares by the UnSub.

But that is somehow exactly what happened, you had found yourself at a four-way crossroads and you were shining your flashlights down every path, checking them out, when suddenly, a pain reverberated through your skull and you dropped.

The next few seconds were a blur of bodies moving past you as you tried to reach out for your gun, hoping to get a shot at the UnSub. However, he had hit you harder than you had initially and your depth perception was off. You tried to reach for your gun but you couldn’t pick it up. You tried to drag yourself forward but all the strength had left you.

“Luke,” You called out weakly but you weren’t sure how loud you even were. Your world was tilting on its axis when you heard the sounds of gunfire and then you slipped into unconsciousness.

When your eyes snapped back open, you had been propped up against one of the wooden crates. The warehouse must have been switched on and when you looked around, Luke was standing a few steps away talking with Matt, his back to you.

Your eyebrows furrowed and Matt noticed you were awake. He must have told Luke because suddenly his head had snapped to you and he looked pissed. You had never seen Luke actually angry but this was it and you were a little scared.

Your ears were still ringing, the world still a little hazy so you didn’t hear what Luke said but then Matt was gone. You used the crates to slowly push yourself to your feet and Luke rushed to your side, holding your shoulders to keep you stable.

“What happened?” He asked, keeping his anger carefully controlled beneath the surface.

“Unsub got me. Didn’t see him coming,” You explained, leaning back against the wooden crate. Luke stepped back, confident that you wouldn’t immediately keel over again even though your eyes were unfocused, “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose,” You added, clearly being able to see the anger that was rippling at the surface.

“If you did, this would be a different conversation,” He snapped, not amused by your comment. You sighed, letting your eyes fall closed as you pressed the heel of your hand against your forehead. Your head was throbbing and you were finding it hard to think straight.

“I’m not that fucking stupid,” You snapped back at him, forcing your eyes open so that could look at him. He huffed out in annoyance, hand moving to rub at his jaw before he looked back at you.

“I know.” His voice had softened a little. Your hand returned to your head, feeling the emotional whiplash from this conversation, “You’re impossible. You should have been more careful.” His voice had morphed from anger to relative calm as he looked at you. You muttered something in response before pushing yourself off the edge of the wooden crate.

“I’m fine, It’s not like I’m dead. So, it’s fine,” You brushed off his concern as you attempted to take a step forward. But you were completely off-balance and the movement had your world tilting off axis. Luke was quick to grab your arms, stabilizing you against him.

“No,” He responded as he helped you get back to your feet, “You have a concussion so you’re gonna stay here until the medic gets here and clears you. Is that clear?” You let your eyes fall closed again, stepping back to lean against the crate.

“Yeah, whatever,” You muttered. Once Luke was sure you weren’t gonna move again, he let go of you. He turned on his heel, pacing up and down the corridor of crates. You hadn’t seen him so stressed before. It was like he couldn’t stay still and he kept looking back at you, face set into a frown. It wasn’t helping how you felt.

“Was I bleeding?” You asked after a moment. Luke looked up and the short nod of your head made you sigh. You honestly couldn’t feel the pain but you assumed that the blood had already matted your hair. Maybe the cut on your head was the reason that your head throbbed as hard as it did. Then you felt it, bile racing up your throat. In seconds, you had turned around, hand pressed against the wooden crate, “Luke, I’m-” but you didn’t get to finish your sentence before you threw up in the space between your feet and the crate.

It burned your throat as you coughed and sputtered, tears beginning to stream down your face as your fingers curled against the wooden crate. By the time that you had done puking up, your stomach was empty and tears were running down your face. Your whole body felt weak and Luke was keeping your ponytail from falling into the line of fire.

His hand was against your back, running soothing circles as you gagged a few more times before coughing. It seemed that your body was done but your head hurt even more now. The headache had gotten worse, the violent push of vomit up your throat had just made everything a million times worse. Luke gently took hold of your shoulders, pulling you back from the mess of vomit before he turned you around. He was careful, keeping your movements slow as he pulled a cloth from his pocket. He was gentle as he wiped the corners of your mouth for you and you looked up at him, tears blurring your vision. He placed the cloth on a nearby crate before he pulled you into his chest.

The tears were burning your cheeks but his arms engulfing you brought some much-needed comfort.

“Sorry, that was, that was disgusting,” You said against his chest. You were sniffling, silent tears falling down your cheeks as your head began to pound even more.

“Medic’s here,” Matt said, startling both of you. His gaze flicked from the two of you to the pile of vomit on the floor and he quickly understood what was happening. The medic then approached the two of you and you cautiously stepped out of Luke’s hold. The medic walked you to a nearby crate and made you sit down.

She then asked what date it was, what year you were in, who was president and it made you realize that you were a little foggy on the details. Everything about your personal life was intact but the second you got out further than that, it all became a little muddy. You were able to tell her everything. You told her what year it was and what president was in office but it took you longer than you would have liked to admit.

Then she made you follow her finger but you were finding it hard. It made your eyes hurt and your head ache and then she shined the flashlight in your eyes. The dilation levels of your pupils didn’t change at all.

“You’ve got a concussion,” The medic stated and you nodded, “Do you live with anyone at home?” She asked. You shook your head.

“It’s just me,” You muttered. She sighed.

“Okay, if that’s the case, it might be best if I get you checked into the hospital. You’ll likely be fine but you need someone to be supervising you at all times in case your symptoms get worse,” She explained.

“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” You tried to argue but the medic didn’t seem satisfied. She glanced at Luke and Matt who had silently watched the interaction, not sure what to make of your current state. Then she looked back at you and your head rested against the crate, eyes closed.

“Can I see your head wound?” The medic asked. Your eyes slowly reopened before you shuffled forward so she could take a look at it. You felt her push your hair around, pressing against your skull which made you seethe in pain a little. But it didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as you had expected it to, “Well, that’s good news. Your head doesn’t need stitches but I really would recommend that you stay overnight at the hospital.”

“I’ll be fine, I swear. I’ll just take it easy,” You insisted. The medic sighed and then she stepped back.

“Agents, would I be able to speak to one of you privately?” The medic asked. Luke and Matt exchanged a look before Luke gestured for the medic to follow him. Matt then walked over to you and sat down on the crate beside you.

“I think you should listen to the medic,” Matt said. You rolled your eyes before letting your eyes close again.

“I can take care of myself,” You repeated.

“I’m sure you can but you’ve got a concussion and that means your brain isn’t functioning the same,” He stated blankly. You scoffed and huffed out. You didn’t even have the energy to open your eyes anymore. You were exhausted and you felt like you could have curled up on that crate and fallen asleep at a moment’s notice. But you didn’t, “Listen, buddy, I do not doubt that you can take care of yourself but we just want you to be safe.” Matt was approaching you like he did with his kids when they were being unreasonable. It seemed to work well on them but he wasn’t so sure about what it would mean for you.

“I’m always safe. I just wanna get home and get a glass of water, all I can taste is vomit,” You admitted. Matt nodded and he glanced over your shoulder to see Luke return from his conversation with the medic. He gestured for Matt to tell you to head out and so Matt was left with the task to coax you to your feet.

He kept a hold of you as you walked out of the warehouse and when you stepped out, the lights were still flashing red and blue. It made your head hurt and you flinched away from it. The rest of the team was talking with the PD, discussing what the best course of action was when they spotted you.

JJ and Emily were at your side in seconds and JJ took you off of Matt’s hands.

“How you feeling?” JJ asked softly. You shrugged.

“Fabulous.” The sarcasm laced your tone and they both knew it but it at least meant that you were still somewhat feeling yourself.

“Are you okay to go home?” Emily asked. You shrugged again.

“Medic told me that she would advise I go to the hospital if I don’t have anyone to look over me for the next day but I’ll be fine,” You insisted. Emily’s eyebrows furrowed and she glanced at JJ, who seemed just as concerned. Emily tried to argue back but like you had been earlier, you were set in your way. You refused to go to the hospital and when Luke came over, hearing your bickering, he only made it worse.

He explained that you had thrown up and that you were refusing to listen to anyone which only made Emily even more concerned. And somehow, in the midst of the conversation, people began to discuss whether any of them could stay with you to ensure that you were okay. You honestly began to tune the conversation out, resting against JJ’s shoulder.

Your eyes reopened again after a moment and you were looking at Luke. His arms were crossed over his chest, face set into a frown and you knew that he was mad at you. He had looked so angry and you had thrown up right in front of him. You mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to him and he sighed.

“If you both have plans, I can watch over her. Roxy can stay with the sitter for another day,” Luke interjected. You let your eyes fall closed again. It was the first part of the conversation that you had heard and you didn’t really understand it. Emily and JJ exchanged a look before they looked back down at you.

“Are you sure?” JJ asked. Luke nodded.

“Listen, I don’t have any plans. It’ll be easier,” He said simply. You opened your eyes again to look at Emily who seemed a little worried by the proposition.

So, you decided to speak up, “He can just sleep on my couch and then, if I get attacked again, I’ve got a scary man to take them down for me.” There was an amused lilt to your tone and you met Luke’s gaze. He looked honestly a little baffled by you but he didn’t say anything against it.

“I don’t mind,” He added. You smiled and nodded, lifting your head from JJ’s shoulder. She kept a hold of you.

“Okay,” Emily agreed.

“But if something happens, you call me, okay?” JJ made Luke promise. He was quick to agree and then the four of you trudged to the rest of the team. You were quick to wrap up with the local PD and you got on the jet to head home. At some point, you fell asleep on the flight but you honestly weren’t sure when.

But when you woke up, you still felt atrocious. Your head ached with every blink of your eye and your memory was still a little fuzzy. However, you did remember that Luke was coming home with you.

So, when he ushered you into his car, you didn’t bother to try and fight against it. You were surprised that he had even suggested that he could take care of you considering how snappy you’d been with each other but you didn’t have the brain power to question it.

Instead, you just directed him to your apartment, got him to park in your usual spot and he helped you get inside. You could at least walk on your own now but your head was killing you. The nap on the jet had done you good but you honestly didn’t feel much better. You need painkillers before you even went anywhere near your bed. And realistically, you needed a shower. You needed to get the blood out of your hair but you also didn’t have the energy to do anything.

Luke could tell that you were feeling overwhelmed and so, he just led you straight to where (he assumed) the bedroom was. He told you to get changed into pajamas but you were quick to start bitching about the blood in your hair. So, - with reluctance and under the condition that you kept the bathroom door unlocked so he could help you if something happened - he let you get a shower.

The water relaxed your muscles and you felt cleaner without blood clumping your hair up and so when you got out, you slipped into pajamas and trudged into the living room. He had already gotten painkillers and a glass of water out ready for you and he was sat on the sofa. He seemed to constantly be on high alert.

“Thank you,” You said before you downed the pills with the water. He was quick to stand up, checking over you and you looked a lot better, “I have some spare pillows and a cover in my bedroom. So, you can at least sleep comfortably on the sofa. Can you get the ice pack out of my freezer while I do it?” You asked. He nodded and was quick to cross over to the kitchen while you went into your bedroom.

You pulled the spare sheets from the top of your wardrobe and began to put the covers over the pillows and duvet. However, the movements were making you dizzy. You were over-exerting yourself and you had to steady yourself on the edge of your bed. That was not good but you finished the job and returned to Luke.

You dropped the duvet and pillow on the sofa before you walked over to the kitchen. Luke was wrapping the ice pack in a towel just as you came up beside him. He offered it out once he was done and you placed it against where the pain was pulsating from.

“Will you be okay on the sofa?” You asked after a moment. He nodded and you sent him a smile, “Thank you for helping me. I haven’t really given you a reason to but I appreciate it,” You explained. It was probably the most vulnerable you had been with Luke in a while and he seemed to recognise that.

“Thank you for trusting me to be here,” He said. You shrugged, adjusting the hold on the ice pack to keep it more stable, “I was worried about you. I found you in a patch of blood and I thought I had lost you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” You weren’t sure if it was the concussion or reality but there was something akin to love in the way he spoke about you. You looked at him for a moment before you let your shoulders drop.

“I should have been more careful,” You responded. He shook his head.

“You had no way of knowing he had been there.” Luke was quick to shut you down. Everything he had said was out of frustration and worry for you but he didn’t know how to explain that. He just couldn’t have you beating yourself up over it.

“I would have if I’d just been paying attention. Instead, I was thinking about you and how angry I was at you. It would have been different if my head had been in it. But it wasn’t. We were both distracted by each other,” You said. Your voice had softened and you felt like there was a weight off your shoulders now that you had admitted that to him.

“Yeah,” He said and the silence spread between the two of you for a moment before he cleared his throat. He then suggested that you both head to bed and you thought it was probably best to call it a night. You said that Luke could change in the bathroom, and get a shower if he wanted to before you headed into your bedroom.

You curled up under the covers, thoughts of Luke lingering in your mind.

Your eyes snapped open, sweat dripping down your back as you looked around your dark bedroom. You were half-pushed up on the bed, the paranoia from your dream lingering. You could remember someone coming at you, something had come to find you but then it went completely blank. But you were safe. Nobody was trying to get you in here and so, you settled back down on the bed. It was uncommon for you to get nightmares after particularly difficult cases but it had been a while and you felt a little shaken.

Your head wasn’t hurting as much as it had a few hours ago but you didn’t feel any better than you had earlier in the day. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you kicked the covers back. You let your eyes fall closed when you heard the bedroom door open. You tilted your head to the side and Luke popped his head in.

He was surprised to see you staring back at him and he smiled, a little awkwardly.

“Please tell me you remember your name,” He said. You chuckled softly at his words before nodding your head. You repeated your name back to him and he nodded.

“Have you been checking on me since I fell asleep?” You asked. He nodded his head and you sighed, pushing yourself to sit up.

“The medic told me to check on you every hour or so,” He explained. He then stepped into the room a little bit and you rubbed your eyes with your hands. You were exhausted, you could feel it in every bone of your body. And if Luke hadn’t fallen asleep yet, you couldn’t imagine he felt much better. You wrapped your arm around yourself.

“Please tell me you fell asleep,” You muttered. He shook his head and you sighed. Your head fell forward slightly and you seemed to remember that you had gone to sleep with an icepack. Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked around. It seemed that you had dropped it but you weren’t entirely sure where.

“You looking for the pack?” He asked and you nodded. The pain was beginning to bloom in your temple again, “It’s back in the freezer.” That was a relief. You settled back on the bed but your body was still rigid, “What woke you?” He asked. Your head fell back against the headboard and you let out a hiss of pain.

“Had a weird dream,” You explained. He let out a soft ‘ah’ and you nodded, “Guess a head injury does weird things to your brain,” You muttered. He nodded. He was still leaning against the door frame and you just wanted him to get into the bed, if you were honest with yourself.

“You should try and get some sleep,” He said and you shrugged. You didn’t even want to think about trying to go back to sleep. You just wanted to stay up and talk to him for a little while. You knew that it would make you feel better but he also needed to sleep.

“You need it more than me,” You retorted. He shrugged and you sighed, “If you need to keep an eye on me, just lay in bed with me. It’ll be easier and you might be able to get some sleep.” You were blunt, exhaustion stabbing behind your eyes and your body was aching. You were so sick of the pretense.

“The couch is fine,” He quickly attempted to rebuke but you slipped off the edge of the bed and trudged over to him.

“Drop the gentleman shit. Just lie in bed with me,” You said, grabbing his wrist and gently tugging him towards it. He sighed but gave in and the two of you slipped under the covers. You lay on your side, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on the injured side of your head. Luke lay across from you, facing you. Your eyes fell closed, “What did he hit me with?” You asked after a moment of silence. Everything was a bit of a blur and you could only really remember the shadowy figure of the Unsub walking away.

“Baseball bat. Aluminum.” Your jaw dropped at his words and he nodded his head, “I took him down and he had it on him. I thought the blood was the vic’s but then I found you,” He explained. You could only imagine how Luke had felt at that moment. It was a baseball bat. And the Unsub had hit you pretty fucking hard. You weren’t sure how you were alive but you were glad that you were even if your head hurt.

“I tried to shoot him but I couldn’t reach my gun,” You admitted. He adjusted his position so he was a little closer to you.

“I got him. The vic is fine. We did our job,” He attempted to soothe you. You nodded but it didn’t make you feel all that much better. In fact, you just felt worse. You should have got him but it was fine. You closed your eyes, hoping that you could just fall asleep. But you couldn’t. You sighed and looked up at Luke.

“Can you hold me?” You asked after a beat. His eyebrows furrowed but he simply nodded, shuffling closer to you. He then pulled you against him and you buried your face against his chest. Your eyes fell closed and he slowly began to run his hands soothing along your back.

“We can talk in the morning, get some sleep,” He whispered softly. You nodded and you felt the tension release from your shoulders before you slipped into sleep.

#luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez fluff #luke alvez fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #reader-insert

284 notes · View notes

cursedlovesstuff · 7 months ago

Text

Fixing Us. Part 3.

Nat woke up later than usual, the weight of the previous night's conversation still heavy on her mind.

As she stretched out her limbs, groaning softly, she dragged herself off the couch and made her way up the stairs to the bathroom to start her morning routine.

Knocking on the bedroom door, she called out Y/N's name, but there was no response.

"Y/N?" Nat called out again, opening the door to find the neatly made bed, but Y/N was nowhere in sight. Disappointment washed over Nat as she assumed Y/N had gone out with Esther, especially since it was the weekend.

Shrugging off her disappointment, Nat proceeded with her morning routine, brushing her teeth and washing her face before reaching for her phone to text Wanda, asking if she had time to talk.

Shortly after, Wanda messaged Nat back, saying she was on her way back to the tower asking if Nat wanted to meet her there to talk.

With that, Nat grabbed her keys and made her way to the Avengers Tower.

At the tower, Wanda greeted Nat as she sat down at the kitchen table.

"What's up?" Wanda asked.

"I messed up, and I need some advice," Nat admitted.

"When you say that you've messed up and need advice, that makes me worry," Wanda replied, concern evident in her voice.

"It's nothing bad... well, it is bad, very bad, but not enough for you to worry," Nat assured her.

"Okay, so what is it this time? Did you get spotted by Hydra agents or punch someone in the face? Because those are things that I can't help with; you'll have to ask Tony," Wanda joked.

Tony walked into the kitchen, grabbing water. "Ask Tony what?" he chimed in.

"Nat needs advice," Wanda explained.

"Oh god, I can have my lawyer here in 15 minutes. Wanda, call Y/N to let her know that Nat is in safe hands," Tony teased.

"Tony!" Nat exclaimed.

"What?" Tony asked, looking confused.

"Why is the first thing you assume when I ask for help that I'm in some sort of legal trouble?" Nat retorted.

"Because I had to bail you out for getting into a bar fight," Tony replied nonchalantly.

"I was in the bar fight protecting you and your slick mouth, but that isn't important right now. This is serious," Nat countered.

"Right, right, sorry. So, what was the advice you needed?" Tony asked, now serious.

"I think Y/N and I are heading down the path of divorce," Nat confessed.

"You think?" Wanda asked, her brow furrowing.

"No, I know," Nat corrected.

"Okay, so what did you do wrong?" Tony inquired.

"Why do you always assume I'm the one messing up and doing something wrong?" Nat questioned.

"Because Y/N is a literal angel," Wanda interjected, and Tony added, "Just a guess. So, spill the beans. Just between us girls, what did you do wrong?"

Tony earned a side-eye from Wanda and Nat.

"Don't worry about him, continue," Wanda said, brushing off Tony's comment.

Nat sighed. "Last night, Y/N and I got into an argument outside the bar and another when we got home," she admitted. "From what I know, I've spent too much time with Maria for Y/N's liking. I'm not home enough, and at some point in the argument, I may have said something that hurt Y/N deeply."

"You did what?"

"I may have said something hurtful unintentionally. We were outside of the bar, and I asked her if she could tell if Carol was just her friend or someone who wanted to sleep with her."

"Nat—"

"I know, it was stupid. I said it without thinking, and I didn't realize how much my words hurt her last night."

"Well, this is a lot worse than I expected."

"It's not just that. I think Y/N might believe that I either cheated on her with Maria or that I am currently cheating."

"Well, are you?" Tony asked.

"No, Tony, I am not cheating on Y/N, nor do I plan on it. But she doesn't believe me."

"So let me get this straight—you and Y/N got into an argument last night because you're never home and you're always out with Maria. You said something hurtful, and now she might think that you're cheating on her?"

"Yeah, that's about right. I forgot to mention the part where if I don't fix things soon, Y/N said I could marry Maria."

"You're screwed."

"Tony, stop it."

"What do you want me to lie and say everything is going to be fine? Nat's marriage is hanging on the thinnest line I have ever seen."

"I know it's on a thin line, and I want to fix it before it's too late. I came here for your advice and opinions, not to be judged."

"Well, I've never been through this situation. I think you're a workaholic, and you're so busy that you forget that Y/N is a person too, not just someone that you just met or started dating. She's your wife, and she needs to feel loved, valued, and cherished," Wanda remarked, to which Nat nodded before turning her attention to Tony.

"How did you fix things with Pepper?"

"Well, we have had our fair share of disagreements, but I'd have to say communication. You can be mad at each other, but you can't fix the problem if you don't know what the other is mad about," Tony shared.

"I tried walking in Pepper's shoes for the day, and it wasn't easy. She manages a lot of things for me, including press conferences. She helps in the lab, and when she and Wanda are taking turns, she helps cook dinner and clean up around the entire tower," Tony continued with a sigh.

"The point I'm trying to make is, don't get so mad easily and understand things from Y/N's point of view. Try and make her day easier. If she cooks breakfast, you wash the dishes. If she washes and dries the clothes, you fold them and put them up. If she's having a bad day, go out and get her favorite snacks or comfort food. Show her that you really care. It's 50/50, not 95/5 percent. Y/N is a good one; don't lose her by being stupid. It's the bare minimum," Tony concluded.

"Where do I start?"

"You can start by taking some time off work and showing Y/N that you really care. What's something that Y/N really likes?"

"She's not really a fan of really public things that are in crowded places or expensive gifts. She likes more thoughtful gifts that took time and effort."

"Maybe you can clean up the apartment, reorganize some things."

"The apartment is always clean. Y/N doesn't even like shoes going past the carpet."

"Maybe you can make her something."

"What if I cook her dinner?"

"You want to cook?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Yes, why?"

"The last time you tried to cook, you almost set the kitchen on fire."

"I didn't know what I was doing back then, but if it makes Y/N happy, I'll do anything."

"What's Y/N's favorite food?" Tony asked.

"She likes shrimp alfredo and homemade garlic toast. That's one of her favorites," Nat replied.

"Okay, shrimp alfredo and toast. What's your plan after dinner?" Wanda inquired.

"To try and get her to talk to me and hope it doesn't turn into an argument. Maybe I can get her some of her favorite things from the store to lighten her mood," Nat explained.

"It's a good start. It's getting late; we should get to the store and make dinner before Y/N gets off work," Wanda suggested.

"Y/N has a job?" Nat asked, surprised.

"Yes, you didn't know? She said she was tired of being in the house by herself all day," Wanda revealed, making Nat reflect on how close Y/N and Wanda had become.

"Well, we should get going," Wanda said after noticing Nat's silence.

"We should head out. Thank you, Tony," Nat said, acknowledging Tony before leaving the kitchen with Wanda.

"Yeah, yeah, go fix things with Y/N before I tell Fury you're breaking her heart," Tony teased as Nat and Wanda walked out of the kitchen.

#fixing us part 3 #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #g!p natasha #oneshot #angst #avengers

278 notes · View notes

penkura · 7 months ago

Text

last forever [5/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: Only three hours late, that's not so bad haha. I had fun with this one, adding in how our couple met, I was going to do it as a flashback but I couldn't get it to work in my head how I wanted, so it's here differently. I'm a little mean to Reader at the end, or, well, Zoro is, but he has his reasons. Things will be okay, I promise.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4]

Honestly, at this point, you shouldn’t be surprised at Zoro’s tendency to get badly injured from his own stupidity at times. Little Garden ended up being more than just an island you all passed through, with giants and more Baroque Works agents, you’d even been caught by Mr. 3 and nearly turned into a wax statue, joining Nami and Vivi shouting at Zoro that he was being an idiot with his threats to cut his own legs off at the ankle to fight the agents there.

You were relieved when Luffy and Usopp showed up, stopping your husband from doing anything ridiculous. Once the four of you had been freed and Sanji showed up, explaining where in the hell he’d been, you grabbed onto Zoro’s shirt, making him look at you while you give him a blank stare.

“…what?”

“Sit down. You need stitches. Again.”

Rolling his eyes, Zoro does listen to you, sitting down nearby the rest of your friends as they discuss your next course of action and Dory and Broggy offer to help you all leave. Vivi comes over and watches you as you stitch up Zoro’s ankles, looking impressed by your quick work and how you don’t even look a bit squeamish about it.

You just shrug when she comments.

“I’ve gotten used to it. This guy’s an idiot—”

“Hey.”

“—so I’ve had to learn to fix him up.”

Vivi laughs a bit and nods, seeming to understand. Once you’ve finished and out your small kit away, you just give Zoro a smile when he quietly thanks you, before you walk back over to the rest of your crew. You hang close to Sanji and it again causes a strange ache in Zoro’s chest, he has to bite his lip to make it stop.

You’ve started spending so much more time with your cook, he should be happy about it, maybe you’re starting to have feelings for Sanji. Some of your free time is now spent in the kitchen, if Zoro walks by he hears you laughing most of the time. The weird feeling in his chest moves to his stomach when he hears you, he’s still not sure if it’s annoyance at you and Sanji getting close or jealousy at the situation.

Shaking his head, Zoro pushes the feelings away and goes to join you all to leave.

What the hell is wrong with me?

+!+

When Nami comes down with a strange illness after you leave, leading to your crew trying to find an island with a doctor, you all take your turns watching over and caring for her. You hope and pray you all reach an island and find a doctor quickly, you don’t want to lose one of your best friends. The boys freaking out about it doesn’t help at all, leaving you and Vivi to really care for Nami and try to help her get better. Every second her fever doesn’t go down scares you, it’s worse if it’s gone up even a tiny bit.

You know nothing about medicine, it’s something your mother thought was useless for you to know. All you needed to know was how to bandage yourself or your future kids up, that’s it. She really treated you like you were made of glass at times, you always wondered if that was due to how late in her life you’d been born. Whatever the reason, you’re happy to help Nami right now, to try and make her feel better.

When you and Vivi switch off one night, instead of heading to bed like you should, you choose to go up to the crow’s nest where Zoro’s taken the first watch of the night. You stopped in the kitchen before heading up to bring something to drink with you, grabbing a coat on the way since you’re in a colder area right now.

Once you make it up the ladder, you poke your head in and give Zoro a smile when he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Wanna share a drink?”

You aren’t surprised when he seems to light up briefly at the mention of sake, nodding you over to sit by him, handing over the bottle you’d gotten from Sanji while you made yourself comfortable beside Zoro. You’re still not used to the burn of alcohol but still take a big a drink when Zoro hands the bottle to you, passing it back to him. The only reason you started drinking was because Zoro had bet you to do so on your eighteenth birthday, promising you he’d give you money if you did it, so you took a few shots that were given to you, quickly regretting it when you threw it all up outside the tavern you two had been in. He may have lost the bet but at least he was nice enough to hold your hair back and get you to your hotel room without much trouble, and you did get your money a few days later.

“I meant to thank you for the other day.”

“Huh?”

“In Loguetown when we ran into Elias,” Zoro barely looks at you, but you pay him no mind, instead watching the light snow fall against the midnight sky, “For not telling him the truth about, you know, us.”

Shrugging, Zoro takes another swig of drink, before offering it back to you which you decline.

“Wasn’t any reason to tell him. Don’t need him telling your parents the truth.”

“He wouldn’t have, but I get what you mean.”

Zoro nods, partially believing you just from the one meeting with your brother and the things you’ve told him. You were a surprise to your parents, coming along when Elias was ten-years-old, your parents in their late thirties and not planning to have another child. Elias was enthralled with you once you were born, he’d protected you from everything, especially once you turned fifteen and your parents started to sift through possible suitors. According to you, he was pissed when your parents chose someone even older than him, promising he’d never leave you alone with the man and eventually helping you run away in the dead of night.

You two were close despite your age difference.

“You know,” you draw Zoro back to paying attention to you when you speak again, “Taking care of Nami reminds me of how you took care of me when we first met. Remember?”

Your smile as you ask makes him feel like his stomach is doing flips, it must be the alcohol doing that he thinks, but he still nods a bit.

How could he forget that?

You were unexpected to him too, running into a rundown bar so quickly you’d slammed into Zoro, making him grab your arms to keep you upright as you tried to apologize but your mouth felt like it was full of cotton, you don’t even know if actual words came out. You were burning up from a fever and passed out while Zoro kept you upright. The bar owner was nice enough to put you up in a room while you recovered, and he still isn’t sure why he did it, but Zoro took care of you the entire time. Johnny and Yosaku had been there at the same time, helping out by bringing any medicine they thought would help, getting a doctor to come check on you only to confirm you had pneumonia but that you’d be fine after a few more days of medicine and rest.

Once you were better, you were so grateful to the three men that you offered to give them whatever money you had on you, which they all rejected, you definitely needed it more. You kept the truth about why you were running into a bar in your state to yourself, eventually making an offer to Zoro only that you could travel with and help him, but he'd only agree to that if you beat him in a small sparring match, he’d noticed your sword right away.

Of course you lost, but you both had a great time, to the point Zoro let you tag along the last year and a half, he helped you improve your skills and you’re still so grateful to him for everything.

The second you shiver form the cold you’re about to go back down to sleep, before Zoro moves his arm to open the blanket around him and nod you over again.

Smiling again, you scoot over and sit right up beside him, practically flush against his side when he brings his arm back down around you. You’re both used to this, used to coming to each other for simple things like warmth or food, even with the rest of your crew. It’s leftover from when it was just the two of you.

Zoro doesn’t want this to go further past your friendship and being crewmates, not now. Neither of you can or should be thinking about romance, that’s Sanji’s job.

So why does he feel disappointed when you finally go down to the bunks?

+!+

After leaving Drum Island with Nami well and Chopper aboard as your doctor, you’ve started to have a tiny second shadow following you around. The reindeer taking a liking to you right away, starting to follow you around the ship after you’d given him the initial tour. He's started staying close to you and showing you how to make medicine and dress wounds, teaching you more than you ever could’ve imagined knowing.

Chopper has also started bringing you with him to nap with Zoro, your swordsman almost rejecting it at first, before Chopper pulls you to sit beside him while your doctor lays across Zoro’s lap. It makes you laugh as Zoro tries not to have any eye contact with you. Can’t let you see him being all soft and stuff about Chopper now.

You don’t say anything about it, especially once you all make it to Nanohana and do your shopping to find desert and heat safe outfits, though you feel like you’re going to suffocate at times, you’ll be glad to avoid a severe sunburn or heat stroke.

Then you all met Luffy’s big brother Ace.

You remember seeing him in the paper before back home, briefly, the thought in your mind that wow, he’s attractive but it’s not like you’d ever meet him.

The universe laughs at you constantly, you swear, especially when it seems like Ace starts to flirt with you as he joins you all for a bit on your journey to Erumalu. You feel like you have a never-ending blush on your face and it makes Ace laugh when you shove his arm after he says something to you about how shy you seem.

“You’re so cute! I can’t believe you’re on my brother’s crew!”

“Stoooop, you’re making me blush even more!”

You do laugh alongside Ace, he’s easy to be around. Comfortable and almost familiar, you’d say. It reminds you of time spent with Elias, though, without the flirty comments. Ace throws an arm around your shoulders, trying to keep his voice down even though your crewmates are all over the place at this point either partying or sleeping nearby, in Zoro’s case.

“So, you got someone special to you or do I have a chance?”

You hum, pretending to think before giving Ace a smile after you take a sip of your fancy drink Sanji made for you girls.

“Sorry, I got my eyes on someone else.”

“A shot to the heart!” Ace throws his head back as you laugh, double checking that Zoro’s still asleep in case Ace asks you for details, “Just don’t say it’s Luffy, I couldn’t handle losing out to my brother.”

“No, no,” Shaking your head, you watch Ace as he seems to perk back up knowing it’s not your captain you’ve got the hots for, “Definitely not Luffy.”

“Is it a secret then? Promise I won’t tell nobody.”

Ace leans on close to you, your face still warm from either the sun or your blushing you aren’t sure, but the few glances you take towards Zoro tell him the answer, making him grin.

“Ooh him huh? Yeah, I can see it.”

“S-See what??”

“You guys, together. Does he not like you back?”

You wish you hadn’t been so obvious, but you shrug a bit, shake your head, then groan and hide your face behind your drink.

“I…don’t know…he’s not really the romance type.”

Nodding a little, Ace keeps his arm around you and pulls away just a bit, he’s probably making you more nervous that you already were by being so close to your face. He hasn’t known you for more than a day at this point, but he’s been able to see you and Zoro seemingly drawn to each other most of the time, or Chopper does it for shade or to be carried by one of you because of the heat.

Maybe your face is warn more from a blush than from the sun after all.

“I bet he’ll come around. You’re cute, he’d be lucky to have you.”

You almost drop your glass at that.

When Ace leaves you all the next morning, you feel sad at the fact he’s going on his own again, but when Luffy says you’ll all see him again, you agree with a smile. Zoro watches you, wondering how you’d gotten so close to Ace in such a short time, but he realizes that’s just you.

Despite your past with your parents, you trust far too easily at times. Granted, Ace is a good guy, but Zoro worried that it’s going to get you, all of you, into trouble one day.

Though, it’s more likely to be because of Luffy than you.

+!+

Alabasta is finally free from Crocodile a few days later, thanks to your crew and Vivi’s work. You’ve all been granted stay at the palace to recuperate, all of you sustaining major injuries though some were starting to heal faster than others. Luffy spent a couple days sleeping but was now up and ready to party as Alabasta celebrated their freedom.

Your worry for Zoro at the time had kept you attached to his side for the most part, latching onto his arm enough that he’d gone from flinching at the contact to quietly removing your hands from him, he doesn’t want you that attached to him, you get it, kind of.

It still hurts when he does it, Sanji sees it on your face more than anyone else. Zoro had protected you at points during the attacks going on, until you all separated to battle different members of Baroque Works, you ending up trying to stop several of the fights between Alabastan army members and the rebel forces, a few of them not taking that kindly and turning their weapons towards you. Most of your wounds were stabbings or slashes, a deep one on your abdomen that Chopper fixed up no problem.

After you’ve all healed enough to join in the celebrations, that’s just what you do, even with the Navy around. Sanji drags you along to dance with him, trying to keep you distracted from Zoro, though you gravitate towards him anyway. It’s like in Cocoyashi, you just lean against the wall Zoro’s placed himself at, giving a smile while you talk to him, brushing your arm against his whether by accident or on purpose. You’ve brought him another drink too, it makes Sanji scrunch his face in annoyance, only because it seems like Zoro just doesn’t care, like he’s that oblivious to your crush on him.

And maybe he is, the blond isn’t sure, even when you look a bit dejected and return to his side for a just moment, to tell him you’re going back to the palace to up to rest for a bit. You’ve gotten tired from the party and need a few minutes. Sanji promises to come get you after a little while, which you thank him for as you leave.

He has a half a mind to tell Zoro to go with you, but by the time he looks back, the swordsman is gone.

+!+

“Why are you up here?”

You hum a but, turning and giving Zoro a smile. Yes it was late, normally you'd be asleep, but Alabasta was still awake, having a party to celebrate the end of the their war and the rain returning to the country. You had chosen to return to the palace, watching your crewmates outside the window. Luffy and Usopp were celebrating in disguises to keep the Navy off your tails, Nami was laughing with Vivi, Chopper and Karoo nearby asleep, and you haven't seen Sanji or even Zoro until now, when your favorite swordsman found you.

“Just…wanted to rest a bit.”

Understanding, Zoro nods a bit, leaning against the wall beside you, arms crossed over his chest while he watches you.

You know that he heard you talking to Ace when he was with you all, telling him you've developed feelings for your legal husband. Honestly he's had his suspicions for a while, mainly after you all left Drum Island and you acted so odd at times, but he never wanted to confront you about it before.

It was harmless, a crush didn't mean you really believed the two of you would be a couple or anything. Despite your actually being married, since it wasn't meant to last forever, he figured he'd leave you be and maybe your feelings would fade over time. You spent a lot of time with Sanji, Zoro fully expects at one point for you to bring the annulment papers to him, saying you liked the blond or that your parents finally responded to you.

Neither of those have happened, and seeing your constant smiles and little blushes at him, Zoro feels the need to say something about it.

"Listen."

Zoro sounds so serious you can't help but sit up straighter, keeping your gaze on the still partying city outside the palace, but you nod to let him know you're listening.

"Whatever…this is between us," he's staring right at you, but you don't dare to look at him, knowing what he's going to say, "it's not going any further than our being crewmates. Whatever feelings you may have, I'm not returning them any time soon. We need to focus on our goals and helping Luffy, not romance. Got it?"

Despite the ache in your chest at that, you nod, the softest agreement coming out of your mouth in return. You knew this was coming, from the way Zoro started to distance from you after your time on Drum Island and the recent events in Alabasta, you could tell something was up and you guess this was it. Zoro was trying to put a stop to your feelings for him, he couldn't be caught playing romance with you right now, maybe never.

Of course, even with your half-hearted agreement, you know feelings can't be squashed so easily. You don't want to stop them, but Zoro wants you to so you can focus on your goals. You weren't going to become a world renowned swordswoman if you were busy focusing on a relationship with someone. Zoro would never become the greatest swordsman in the world if he was focused on you.

When he finally leaves you alone, you can't help yourself and the quietest tears start. You knew this was going to happen, Zoro doesn't like you back, he’s only still married to you because you haven't heard a thing from your parents, but damn it still hurts to basically get a rejection like this.

It feels worse when Sanji comes into the room a few minutes later, having kept his promise on bringing you back down to the party with him, and he knows you've been crying without having to see your face. He wants to go after and curse out Zoro for making you cry, whatever the reason, but chooses to quietly pull you into a hug instead, telling you that you don't have to say anything, but he's here for you.

Honestly, having Sanji around, someone who was willing to listen to you and just let you cry over something that felt stupid at the time, you felt like things would be okay after some time.

Even when he says he'll kill Zoro for making you cry once you tell him why.

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #fem!reader #roronoa zoro x reader

206 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 22 days ago

Note

Hello, I have a request. So I have these lyrics brain rotting me and I just know you, with amazing writer skills, will be able to bring it to life. So, from The Prophecy, "Don't want money, just someone who wants my company" and like reader being lonely for a long time before meeting katsuki. I see reader as a very important part of the society, like not a hero, but more as a spy that can also fight (the Hero version of a fantasy assassin) And she is paired with Katsuki for a mission and he sees her in her true colours. Maybe a series? It's up to you, or course, but thank you for writing and being so talented and considering this request <33 Hope you have a great day!!

lowkey this request broke me in all the right ways omg...i love the prophecy so so so much it's so heartbreaking and definitely one of my favorites off ttpd <3 ty for your ask and all the love, hope you like this :)) so sorry that it took so long to get to and ty for your patience, i haven't had much time to write lately

cw: explicit language, implied fem!reader but no she/her pronouns (reader does wear heels), angst/fluff with happy ending, angry forced coworkers to lovers, bkg being lowkey mean but he's just psychoanalyzing you

you liked the sparkle, to a certain extent.

it was nice to pad around in designer satin, your name embroidered in gold thread on the back tag. you could appreciate the crushed velvet sofas in the living room of your high-rise penthouse, the walls covered in abstract art gifted to you by painters whose names you don't remember. your closet was larger than your university dorm and lined with enough expensive fabrics to start a hospital. everything about your lifestyle screamed luxury, yet even a marble bathtub couldn't provide much comfort when you came home at two in the morning to a cold, lifeless apartment. tragic.

bound by contract, you weren't allowed to live with civilian roommates, and pro heroes looking for places to rent were as scarce as dust left behind by your cleaning crew. you figured it was better that way, not needing to explain to your roommate why you're gone for weeks at a time on assignments and coming back with several broken ribs and a staggering sum of money. instead of friends, you had your job, however dangerous it became sometimes. you were good at playing a character (it's why you had your current job in the first place) and made it look like you weren't lonely, but you'd be lying if there weren't times you were just begging the sky to send you...who? who do you even want? love was a foreign word, a privilege reserved for those not in your profession. so you withstand whatever life throws at you like a statue made to wait, constantly on the brink of crumbling.

it's mid-january when you receive the call informing you that you'd be working with a partner on your next assignment. you wrack your brain for the few people trustworthy enough to join you, only for the words to catch in your throat when your agent says they're assigning someone for you.

if you were bad at working with others, bakugo was unapologetically worse.

"could you walk any louder?" you hiss into his ear as you stroll through the lobby of the most luxurious hotel in the city. his bicep flexes under your fingers, something you can only perceive as him stiffening in annoyance. "your big-ass feet are gonna get us compromised before we even make it past the perimeter."

"i'm not trained for stealth, genius," he argues, adjusting his suit jacket with free arm for the fifth time in twelve seconds. "i usually go in, blast the shit out of people, and call it a day."

"well, your thundering steps are doing the opposite of helping us blend in," you reply bluntly with a pretty smile toward the concierge desk. "we're doing recon, not infil." you take an abrupt step to the right, simultaneously bumping bakugo in the hip and making him stumble. with the way you start to sway and lean into him, your perfume makes his brain go fuzzy and his ears pinker.

"what the fuck are you doing?"

"you are literally the funniest person i've ever met. i can't believe i fell in love with you, sweetie," you drawl, fluttering your eyelashes.

"what the hell is wrong with you?" he cringes away as you beam at him with a lovesick smile, one hand keeping him flush against your body while the other brushes the pant leg of a passing security guard.

"just play along, darling," you seethe through a fake smile. without taking your eyes off your partner's face, your prize finds itself between your fingers and you unbutton the keycard without blinking, bringing it to his chest and smoothly slipping it into bakugo's jacket pocket with the guard none the wiser. once you catch the guard round a corner behind you via the reflection of a gilded mirror, you drop your act and detach yourself from a very flushed bakugo. "yikes, you're worse at this than i thought you'd be," you deadpan.

"you-you just used me to get that guy's card," he sputters in pure disbelief while you continue to walk down the side hall in the direction of the bar and banquet room. "the hell is wrong with you?"

"i work alone, bakugo," you say boredly. your heels click against the glistening marble and you roll your eyes as his loud steps catch up to you.

"yeah, that much is obvious," he glowers. "we're supposed to be working together on this shit-"

"you are not my partner in this job. you are a tool." you have half the mind to think that your coldness was too harsh, but remember that working alone is what you're best at, for better or for worse. "look, i'll get the job done; you just sit there and watch so our agencies can get off our asses about this being done through 'official means.' got it?"

"you think you're good at being alone, but it's actually killing you," he states in a tone that barely echoes off the sparkling walls. "you think you're good at being alone, but what you think is the farthest thing from reality." if you weren't running four minutes behind schedule, you'd whirl on him and slap his pretty face. you settle for stamping his foot with your heel and he lets you, an ungratifying fuck you all you get as a reward.

"i should have told my agent that i'd quit if she made me work with someone else," you snap with your arms crossed as he fishes out the keycard from his jacket pocket. he gives you a look that enrages you further, something between loathing and sympathy.

"take my arm, for fuck's sake. let's get this over with so i don't have to deal with you and your self pity ever again," he snarls and, for the first time, he catches you off guard. you obey without a word, eyeing him warily while he swipes the keycard and guides you into the crime boss' exclusive campaign gala.

"you know nothing about me, so don't try to analyze me since i know it's not your strong suit," you mutter under the sound of blaring jazz trumpets, sidling past investor after investor as they chatter excitedly about the your target's recently announced run for mayor. "i've seen the leaks about you heroes' IQ scores."

"yeah, they were faked by some extra in the todoroki agency that wanted to undermine him. wanted to imply that he was a nepo baby or some shit like that," bakugo replies without missing a beat and you're barely able to detect any malice in his answer. it confuses you. shouldn't he be pissed that you just insulted his intelligence? "icy-hot's one of the smartest guys i've met, so don't you fucking dare discredit him for one second." he's angry that you insulted...a different hero?

"that doesn't change the fact that you don't know shit about what i do," you dodge, spotting your target at a table near the banner-flanked main stage. he's surrounded by a dozen women who fawn on him like moths to a fire, caressing whatever body part they can get their hands on. it's exactly the scenario you need to bypass his defenses. "there, 3 o'clock. he's got his harem with him."

"so what's your play, lone wolf?"

"dance me toward him and then get out of my way," you order, dragging him onto the dance floor while the jazz band in the corner eases into a mellower tune. "what, got two left feet?"

"no, i'm just trying to figure out why you are the way you are," he questions, slipping one arm around your waist while his hand intertwines with yours.

"don't go hurting that handsome head of yours," you reply coldly without thinking, suddenly feeling your ears go hot when he smirks. "what?"

"nothing. 's just funny when you actually act human rather than the killing machine you were made to be," he admits and your jaw clenches.

"again, you know absolutely nothing about me." you subtly try to move your dancing bodies toward the crime boss' table, but meet bakugo's eyes with a glare when he actively spins you in the opposite direction. "we should be going that way, idiot."

"what if i wanna keep dancing with you, idiot," he retorts. "now," he takes a deep inhale, "i'm gonna tell you exactly what i think you are so maybe your next partner doesn't have to dig into your ass and get your head out of it."

"you are putting this whole operation in jeopardy--"

"don't care, especially if i'm being told by a self-pitying, pathetic excuse for a public servant who hides themselves away because they're too scared to make human connections," he rants, looking you directly in the eyes so you could see just how molten they were.

"stop," you warn, looking for any excuse to go in on your target so you could get out of the spotlight that bakugo was putting on you. he doesn't let you, though, effortlessly dipping you in a way that outsiders could consider flirtatious. it's an unfamiliar sensation, your spine curved under his steady hands, but all you can register is the intensity of his expression inches away from yours.

"you hide behind your callousness and say you don't need anyone fucking else because you've never had anyone else. and then, one day, when someone comes along who actually wants to know you for you, you're gonna be too much of a little bitch to realize that there are people who care about you. even if you are the most irritating being to call themselves human." he abruptly stands you both up and steps back, both of you burning and withstanding each other's wrath. your voice is smaller than you want it to be when you finally manage to speak.

"how would you know any of that?"

"because i was that." his attention flicks to behind you, toward the boss' table. "now would be your best chance. i'll sit at the bar and you finish the job, alone."

"...alone?"

"that's what you want, isn't it?"

no. i don't want it.

you don't catch him in time, some shackle like pride chaining you to the floor. it doesn't feel like relief, you realize when he turns to leave and disappears into the crowd. it feels like a punishment, an unbreakable curse that you'd put on yourself. you were a fool in a fable and it was sinking in, even as you worm the information you need out of your target and slip out of a back window, alone.

always alone.

---

it's not until ten months after your initial mission with bakugo that you finally work up the courage to tell off your agent.

"you have no place to be making such demands!" you lean away unbothered while your agent screams, her anger distorted by your phone speaker. "you have no idea how to--"

"don't care. i'm done working alone in the shadows," you interrupt with the callousness that once benefited you in your job. now, you realize, it was only impeding you and making it harder to find people who saw you as a human, not a tool. "put me in the infil mission or i'm quitting. for good."

"you don't know anything about infil. they'll eat you for breakfast if you join the op now," she hisses. "you need me."

"you made me think i needed you. you and the sparkle, and the fancy pajamas, and the smelly bath salts. you made me think that, to keep all the nice shit, i needed to be alone. but now i know i don't need to be."

"how would you know anything--"

"i know that you've purposefully delayed the infil operation so that you can cover up your ties to the boss' campaign, and that you sent me in with bakugo that night thinking i'd take the fall for your corruption. too bad he caught on and helped me investigate the todoroki IQ files you gave me and said they were official leaks."

"you're making a big mistake."

"and you should have learned sooner that i don't want the money. i never did."

"bullshit. money is all we have in this hero-run society, the only way we can be equal to them. what else would you want?"

"company." your agent falls silent at the same moment you hear a faint knocking on her line. "speaking of, looks like you have some." the tell-tale beep beep beep! of the call being ended echoes off the walls of the apartment and you sink further into the plush couch cushions, counting down leisurely on your fingers.

five,

four,

three,

two,

one.

"got her, babe!" you hear from down the hall. "and we got her good," katsuki says as he appears from your shared bedroom and grins at you. he leans against the door frame, waiting patiently as you delete your ex-agent's number from your contact list and show him the phone. "i ever tell you you're a natural at getting confessions out of people?" you giggle and let him pad over to you on the couch, sliding down so that he could lie his entire body on top of yours. even after all the time he'd been with you, the skin to skin contact still made your stomach burst into uncontrollable butterflies.

"i guess it comes with being a spy for so long," you suppose with a shrug. "but i'm not one anymore." your fingers absentmindedly trace the creases of back muscle through his shirt and he hums like a cat purring contentedly.

"yep, and now you're stuck with me until one of us dies in combat." you click your tongue with a tsk and lightly pinch his side, feeling him snort in triumph against your sternum.

"why can't you just say you love me like a normal person?"

"because neither of us are normal, genius," he explains, his eyes shut against your chest. "how normal is it to be so lonely that when you're around another lonely person, your shit cancels out?"

"i guess not that normal," you concede. "but still...what do i do now?"

"as much as i wanna say it, i don't think 'me' is the correct answer," katsuki proposes and you burst out laughing. "but really? anything you wanna do, baby. your hand's off the throttle, so now you're just cruising."

"since when did you use so many metaphors?" you ask with a teasing smile. "last week you said 'lightning in a bottle' and 'cursed like eve.'"

"since i met your dramatic ass."

"you know you love me."

"mmm, now you're finally starting to get it."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

64 notes · View notes

jhilsara · 4 days ago

Text

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 3

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Another year goes by and your friendship with Spencer is better than ever… too bad its a rough year. A birthday surprise, another Halloween adventure together (but make it a musical), Sister fights, and you finally find out what Spencer's day job is.

Word Count: 11.5k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, bank robbery, Season 7 finale

Previous|Next

The one where Spencer turns 30

Spencer hasn’t left his apartment much lately. Besides going out for calls at the BAU and working on finding Ian Doyle, he doesn’t have much energy for anything else. Except for the new doctor he was seeing for his migraines. She was actually helpful in comparison to the others he had seen.

It’s only been four months since Emily Prentiss died and Spencer doesn’t feel any lighter. He just seems to be spending more time debating on whether he’d feel better if he started using again. At least he’d be numb. Feeling numb sounded better than being miserably sad at the loss of one of his closest friends. He knows in the back of his mind, if he did start using dilaudid again he wouldn’t be able to truly put his all into the Ian Doyle investigation. That’s what keeps him content to stay sober.

Spencer hasn’t visited the bookstore, not nearly as much as he used to. It’s enough to cause worry so you’ve started to call him at least once a week. He’s sure that you probably wanted to call every day. You worry and fret over him, and he knows it’s just a part of who you are, but he doesn’t feel deserving of the attention.

Especially when you take it upon yourself to visit occasionally.

He always opens the door for you, he can’t help it, he doesn’t want to worry you. Even though when he looks at your face, he sees the clear concern behind your eyes.

He always knows when it’s you because your warmth and brightness almost roll off in waves that gently brush and seep under the doorway. You’re a force of nature. One where you shed some color into his incredibly bleak world.

The only other friend who checks on him in the same kind of way would be Penelope. Which, she’s grieving in a very different way. It’s also hard for any of them to talk about Emily together without it being tainted by their Doyle investigation. He knows this isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but he’ll be damned if he stops looking for the man that took away part of his family.

There’s an ease and tenderness that comes with you. You've never pushed him to tell you what’s wrong. You'll ask, always testing the waters, shaking his raft, but you never push. You don’t force him down into the depths of his own consuming thoughts. The ones where he thinks he’s drowning and can’t recover from. The ones where all of his intrusive thoughts prick at his brain like tiny needles, trying to prove nonexistent points.

It wasn’t that you weren’t curious, because you definitely are. Sometimes when he closed off the conversation, he could see the hurt in your eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, because Spencer would trust you with anything, you’re his best friend outside of the BAU. He even spent last New Years with you and your dad, Big Joe. Well, mostly you had made dinner, they watched Big Joe’s favorite movie, which Spencer happily listened to him give all his endless movie knowledge. After you put your dad to bed, they went out to a bar for a few midnight drinks.

Spencer just preferred to keep the FBI parts of his life out of his personal life. It’s been refreshing to not be a federal agent when he’s with you. If he had to explain everything about Ian Doyle and Emily’s death... he was slightly afraid you wouldn’t want him in your life anymore.

Or worse, he’d endanger you like Hotch had with Haley...

So, Spencer does what he truly does best, holds his feelings close to his chest with his secrets. If your smile faltered when he couldn’t tell you what was happening, he’d bite his tongue. He couldn’t lose another friend. Not you. Even if his secrets kept you at arm's length.

It’s a random day in the middle of August when Spencer finally walks back into the bookstore. It surprised you so much you ram yourself into the edge of the checkout counter. You curse under your breath but shoot him a hesitant smile.

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” you softly said as you placed the books down to give him your full attention. Almost approaching him like he is a wounded animal.

Spencer nods, “world keeps spinning, life goes on.” he said with a small shrug and a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

He couldn’t tell you that his dead friend faked her death and was alive all along. Just in Paris... while two of his friends lied to his face. That absolutely isn’t a can of worms he’s willing to unload onto you. Not today, maybe not ever. He still had some anger to process that he doesn’t want to direct towards you. Spencer takes a deep breath and starts walking toward the cafe.

You followed after him and smiled brightly. “Well, I’m glad to see you anyway.” you touch his shoulder lightly. “I’ve been worried about you.” you said warmly as you move behind the counter to make him a coffee.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He starts to rebuttal, but you cut him off.

“I was going to worry regardless; I don’t know how to turn it off unfortunately.” you tried to joke lightly.

Spencer just furrows his brows, “Do you worry about everything?” he asked. It comes across harsher than he means it to, but it rolls off your back.

“No, just about people. I’m worried about Birdie, like all the time, not to mention dad. I’m also constantly thinking about my coworkers, Josie... My friends in Georgia...” you pause and bites your lip.

“That probably sounds like I don’t do anything else besides worry.”

“It sounds like anxiety.” he deadpanned.

You shrugged and offered him his coffee. “Probably.”

“Oh! Spencer, since you’re here!” you quickly change the subject whirling around to the computer, “Do me a favor and sign up for our new rewards program. I need a test guinea pig to make sure it actually tracks the points.”

Spencer nods and waits. You swiftly tap information into the computer screen.

“It’s only a few questions,” you murmured, “Full name...Spencer Reid. Date of birth-” you froze looking up at Spencer.

“I don’t know your birthday.” you said it like it was a genuine surprise and frown. “We’ve known each other for almost three years, how do I not know your birthday?”

Spencer gave a soft chortle of amusement, “I’ve never been in town for my birthday. I’m weirdly always out for work. Besides-” he shrugged. “I don’t know yours either.”

You dramatically groan. “I cannot believe I didn’t know this! Birthdays are so important!”

Spencer tilts his head curiously, “I didn’t know you liked birthdays that much?”

“Don’t you? It’s the one day to truly celebrate a person. I mean you don’t need a day to do that, but doesn’t everyone want to feel special just one day? I mean you make your way around life another year and you should earn just a little treat for it! Living sucks sometimes.” you said matter of factly.

You're so passionate as you talk, Spencer almost forgets it’s even about birthdays.

Spencer paused before his brain autofill's information like a search engine, “Did you know that the birthday celebration actually started in ancient Egypt with Pharoh's? It wasn’t for common folk at all. They acted as a coronation for a Pharoh. Greeks and Romans adopted them for their worship of the gods but really, individual birthdays weren’t well known. For a long time in history.” Spencer info dumps what he knew and smiled triumphantly.

You nod, listening, you always listened to Spencer when he had the wealth of knowledge to just disperse whenever. It was charming.

“Sooooooo, what I’m hearing is, we should celebrate everyone like they are their own gods?” you tease him.

Spencer rolls his eyes, “Not what I meant.”

You hummed in amusement, “Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” You smiled, like you had a secret. “What’s your birthday Spencer?”

“October 12th 1981.” He tells you with a sigh.

You plug it into the computer, and you realize quickly that Spencer’s about to turn 30. You looked up at him, “That’s only a few months away. Makes sense it’s October.”

Spencer fakes a dramatic gasp as he looks at you in shock, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You give him a deadpan look as you finish typing in the rest of his information. “It means- that for someone who loves Halloween it doesn’t surprise me you were born in October.”

“What’s your e-mail?” you asked him.

“I only have my work one and I’m not using that for your rewards program.” He said in fake exasperation, “By your logic,” he picked back up their conversation, “that means you also were born in October.”

You make a fake buzzer noise, “Nope!” you pop the P. “Try again.”

Spencer raises a brow, “There is a 1 in 365 chance for me to guess right. That’s not even one percent.”

“Do you care if I just put in my e-mail? We’re just testing it, I’m doing it anyway.” you tap away at the computer, “Also- ever heard of a zodiac sign? Thats at least like 1 in 12 chances. Better odds.” you gave him a pointed look.

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously making me guess zodiac signs?”

You wiggled your brows, “What? The genius doesn’t believe in the fate of the stars.” you smirked to yourself as you typed away at the computer.

“Do you actively want me to stereotype you?” He asked with a teasing smile of his own.

“Tik tok, it’s either guess the sign or the date.” you joke.

“You’re stubborn enough, let’s say Taurus.” he replied with a snark.

You rolled your eyes and made a tsk sound, “Nice try, but WRONG. I’m a Cancer. A summertime baby even though I hate hate hate summer.” you groan thinking about the heat.

“Then your logic definitely doesn’t make sense.” He laughed in exasperation.

You shrugged, “never said I was right.”

Spencer glared playfully, “No but it was implied.”

You just brush him off. Finishing up the rewards program. “I think it works. It should track your drink purchases, and every tenth drink is free!” you said excitedly.

“You never charge me for my drinks.” He reminded you with a look of mild confusion.

“Shhhh, don’t let the other customers know I have favorites! They’ll get their feelings hurt!”

You’ve been scheming since you found out Spencer’s birthday. 30 was a milestone and you weren’t about to let him go by without even an itsy bitsy teenie weenie celebration. You weren’t going to throw a surprise party or anything. After the fiasco that was a friend's surprise party when they were 21 you vowed to never again. The last thing you had expected was for everyone to find out that your friend's roommate was cheating. Screaming surprise to a pair of twentysomethings trying to eat each other’s faces and their actual boyfriend being in the room was rough.

You learned no more surprises the hard way.

The only surprise you had was you were determined to have Josie bake one of her delicious cakes for him. You begged Josie, just a small chocolate cake with a gorgeous violet frosting. Nothing too insane, Josie just was the best baker you knew. Her cakes were to die for, but most of her pastries were.

Josie agreed, but only if you agreed to take the deposits to the bank for the Holiday season. You lived closer and Josie hated dealing with the general population outside of what she had already seen during the holidays.

You've been hiding Spencer’s cake in the back freezer for a day, hoping he wouldn’t be out of town for his birthday. You had called him earlier in the week and asked him to swing by on Wednesday if he could. You had told him you really needed a taste tester for your new Halloween treat. Sugar was Spencer’s weakness.

You're pacing back and forth, trying to not be on edge, but you’re riddled with so much excitement it’s hard. You've been decorating the new display case filled with Halloween themed books. You are hanging up a garland in the window display when you see Spencer walking down the street.

You quickly finished hanging up your ghost garland and quickly ran to the back freezer to get his cake out to let it defrost a bit. You throw candles and a lighter on the counter in the back room and you try to make sure everything is set and ready to go.

The bell rings all the way through to the back and you compose yourself before stepping out again. You stick your head out the back door that divides the cafe from the back kitchen and waves to Spencer.

“Back here!” you shout.

The bookstore only had a few patrons tonight, none of which were happily there to hang out or study. They were perusing the isles, and you had already given them a few recommendations of books. You know an insomniac when you see one, and these people were the kind that needed something besides the empty fridge to look at for their late-night brain. It was later than normal, around two in the morning, when Spencer came walking in.

“I almost thought you weren’t coming by tonight.” you tease leaning against the counter.

“It was a late work trip.” He said with a tired smile.

“Well, I have a treat for you. Taste testing if you will.” you said, turning to the back room.

“I need you to close your eyes though. I’m really proud of it.”

Spencer rolls his eyes at your antics but does as you’ve asked.

“No peaking!” you shouted, and Spencer could hear the door to the back close behind you.

You check the cake, and it's good to go. The back freezer wasn’t cold enough to freeze it solid, so the cake is still easy to cut. you press the candles into the top, a three and a zero to make 30. You slowly light the candles and back up to bring the cake out. You gently set it down in front of Spencer, who’s just standing there with his eyes closed and a goofy grin.

“Okay, open.”

Spencer opens his eyes, and he looks stunned. His mouth just kind of hangs open like a gaping fish before he murmured, “This isn’t a Halloween treat...”

“Happy birthday Spencer.” you whisper looking at his reaction and trying to gauge it. “I didn’t make your cake, Josie did, but I promise her cakes are the very best.”

Spencer was stunned into silence. He truly didn’t expect you to remember his birthday, or know he was turning 30. Hell, even his team wasn’t aware it was his birthday until Emily told them. Which, he does appreciate her listening to him. He was having a crisis over his own accomplishments.

You start getting antsy when Spencer doesn’t respond. He’s standing there with his mouth open. You start rambling, “I just thought, you know, 30 is a big deal! It’s a milestone and I didn’t get to celebrate your past two birthdays so I thought this would be a nice treat... I know I didn’t ask if you even like surprises, but it was so small-”

Spencer cuts her off.

“Sorry, I just... thank you.” He tells you with a soft smile. “I love it.”

Your eyes light up and you brush your hair out of your face. The nerves leaving your body.

“Make a wish Spencer.”

Spencer doesn’t have to think about it as he blows out his candles.

“What did you wish for?” you asked, grabbing a knife to cut his cake.

Spencer raised a brow, “Well if I tell you, it won’t come true.”

You roll your eyes, “Didn’t peg you to be superstitious.”

Spencer just shrugged at that and bit his lip. If his wish had to do with you, well, you didn’t need to know.

The one about Rocky Horror Picture Show

Spencer’s sorting through the collection of DVD’s you’ve brought over for their movie night. You brought an eclectic mixed taste of Halloween movies, from Hocus Pocus to Insidious. Spencer pauses on Rocky Horror Picture Show and you make a noise of excitement.

“Oh, we should watch it! I’m going to the showing next weekend and I’m so excited.” you said, reaching for the bowl of popcorn.

“I didn’t know they still showed it in movie theaters, I’ve never been.” he said casually popping open the case to grab the DVD.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Rocky Horror Picture Show? It’s like quintessentially a Halloween staple.” you said in abject horror.

Spencer is once again being berated for his lack of pop culture knowledge. To be fair, he does know the movie. So, he isn’t fully aware of why you are looking at him like he has two heads.

“I’ve seen the movie. I know what it is.” He gives a scoff and shakes his head.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Why haven’t you ever been to a local show? It’s iconic!” you said exaggeratedly.

Spencer rolled his eyes. “My job doesn’t always let me preplan my events well. Besides, it can’t be much different than watching the movie at home.” He said turning to press play on the DVD player.

You audibly gasp standing up from the couch.

“Spencer Reid, that is blasphemous! You are absolutely coming with me to a viewing of Rocky Horror, like immediately.” you demand planting your hands on your hips and shooting him a playful glare.

“What makes it so different?” He cocked his head in confusion, brows furrowed. “It’s a musical from the 70’s that barely makes sense in the plot line and some of the verbiage is really outdated, borderline offensive really.” He states matter of factly.

You sighed, “You don’t understand art! It’s about the experience of the show, it’s such a great time going to a live show and seeing everyone in costume and singing together, chanting, using props! It’s one of the best things to be in a room of similar people just having fun.” you told him in a dreamy voice.

Spencer nodded, still not fully getting your image, moving to go sit on the couch, “I didn’t know they were so... performative.”

“They are some of my favorite shows I’ve been to. Especially bringing new people.” you plop back down on the couch next to him.

“Why?” he asked, turning to watch the opening credits, leaning down to grab his late-night coffee that wasn’t nearly as good as what you make in the cafe.

“Because they’re virgins.” You said it like it was so obvious. Like it was a fact as simple as the sky is blue.

Spencer almost chokes on his coffee.

“Excuse me?” he asks a little baffled.

You roll your eyes, “When someone is brought to a live show and they’ve never been, they’re a virgin. There’s even a silly virgin ritual that’s super fun. The whole nights a blast.”

Spencer goes quiet, his face bursting into a red flush, “It’s not... it’s not like a sex thing, is it?”

Your laugh filters through his apartment bright and loud. You shake your head, “God no Spencer! I’m not going to some crazy orgy almost every year.”

Spencer started coughing and looked at you with wide eyes, “I wasn’t implying that you- I-... shit.”

You just shake your head still trying to control your laughter, “Well you have to come with me now Spencer, to heal my wounded ego. I’m going on Halloween. Dress up please?” you asked with a bat of your lashes.

Spencer covers his face in embarrassment but nods, “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll go. Can we please just watch the movie now?”

“Can do.” you snickered settling back into the comfort of his couch.

Before you can leave, you have a few things you need to check first. Spencer is picking you up to walk to the theater together, which is sweet. You go to check on your dad before leaving.

You knock gently on your father's door before opening it a crack, “Daddy?” you whisper.

Big Joe is passed out in his bed, the television still playing faintly in the background of some sports game. His snores letting you know he was out for the night.

You shake your head with a sigh before going in to turn off his television and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Love you, I’ll be back later.” you whispered.

You check your outfit one last time in the mirror, looking at her Janet inspired pajamas. She was wearing tights, a silk slip dress, and wrapped in a similar silk night gown. You were going as Janet in her under garments, but something you were okay with wearing in public. You throw your long coat over it to keep yourself warm.

You hear Spencer’s gentle knock on the door, and you quickly move to grab the last few items. You grab your large tote bag, double checking to make sure you have all the props you wanted to bring. You look in your wallet to make sure you have both tickets, and you feel confident.

You slide on your heels and open the door to greet Spencer.

“Hey! I’m ready.” you greet excitedly, moving to close the door behind you.

You look at Spencer and see he’s dressed as Brad from the start of the movie, glasses and all. You grin as you tilt your head.

“I didn’t know you wear glasses?” you said with a tiny smile pointing at his face.

Spencer shrugged, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” he said holding out his arm for you.

“A gentleman too!” you faked a gasp as you wrapped your arms around his. “To the theater!” you proclaim with an exaggerated drawl of your accent.

It’s not the shortest of walks, but the duo arrives at the theater only a little chilly. Mostly you, even under your coat. You present the tickets, and they are quickly ushered inside. You immediately relax, feeling the warmth of the heater.

You move to hang up your coat on the rake and Spencer catches what your actual costume is. His face flushed a bit.

“You, you look great.” He almost chokes on his words as he compliments you.

You do a little spin, your loose robe fanning out around you. “Thought it would be cute and comfy!” you tell him with a proud smile.

You come back up to Spencer to link their arms together again, “Come on let’s go find our seats! I wanna make sure I have the props in the right order.” you looked up at him with unbridled excitement that’s just too contagious.

Spencer just gives a nod, “Lead the way, Janet.”

“Aren’t you just a peach Brad!” you responded without missing a beat.

Everything about this movie experience is the exact opposite of what Spencer would expect when going to see a film. Almost everyone in the crowd was dressed and just as many were carrying around props.

Your bag was filled with rice, newspapers, playing cards, he was honestly impressed by the Mary Poppins effect. He couldn’t see the bottom and every time you pulled something out, he really thought you had hit the end.

The Time Warp plays, and you drag him out of his seat to dance together. The whole room ignited into a loud cacophony of singing. Your laughter is the only sound he can hear pierce through, and he finds himself smiling alongside you.

Once that musical number ends, they almost fall back into their seats, you lean closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Are you having fun?”

He turns and nods, bending down to grab some left-over rice to toss at you playfully. “It’s a blast.” he laughs.

You squeeze his arm, “I’m glad.”

The evening is chaotic, loud, and so so so messy. By the time the movie ends the theater is a real mess. You grab as many of the large props as you can and shove them back into your bag, trying to make the clean-up at least a bit easier.

Once they’re outside, and you’re wrapped back up in your coat, Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Soooooooooo?” you start, giving him an expectant look.

“I had a lot of fun. I totally get the theater experience.” He chuckled looking over at you.

“Good! Maybe we can make it a tradition.” You said giving him a gently nudge with your elbow.

“You mean add more activities to our Halloween calendar? How will we ever find room!” He says in jest.

You shrugged lazily with a dramatic sigh. “We’re just too festive Spencer.”

“Clearly, we’re going to have to start Halloween in September next year.” He suggested.

“Oh, that would give me something to look forward to!” you said in excitement.

Spencer walks you home and drops you off at the foot of the apartment.

“Thanks again Spencer. It was so much fun going with someone again.” you tell him with a soft smile. “I haven’t been able to go with anyone since we moved here.”

Spencer steps forward to brush your hair out of your face, “I love spending Halloween with you.” he whispered.

Your face bursts into a deep flush as you can feel your heart almost beat out of your chest. “Goodnight Spencer.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The one where Birdie visits

You're cleaning some dishes left over from breakfast when the doorbell rings. You sigh, knowing it’s far too early for Spencer to come by to pick you up for lunch. It has to be Bridget. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect, since you had just dropped your father off for a checkup.

Your baby sister had called last night asking if their dad would be home tomorrow. You were too hopeful to think that meant Bridget was trying to spend time with their dad. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get Bridget to spend some time with their dad. Since he’s been diagnosed it’s almost like she can’t stand to be in the same room as him. Big Jo tries to not let it hurt his feelings, but you see his face and how he deflates.

The day she came by, and he was in a wheelchair, it was like they’d both been hit by a truck.

You plant a forced smile on your face as you answer the door, “I thought you were coming by later? When daddy would be here.”

Your sister shakes her head, shoving her hands into her coat pocket. “Nope, I just needed to stop by before I started running my errands for the day.” she said calmly.

“Well come in, come on, it’s freezing.” You step aside to let your sister in. Bridget quickly sheds her coat and scarf hanging them on the rack next to the door.

“Magpie, did you pack any of my stuff when you moved daddy up here?” Bridget asks, walking into the kitchen and making herself a glass of water.

“Come on in, fix yourself a drink, don’t mind your sister... by the way do you have my junk?” you mock crossing your arms as you raise your brow at your younger sister.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just in a hurry.” Bridget replied rolling her eyes.

“Well, what are you looking for Birdie?” you asked.

“I told you, it’s Bri.” She murmured with a sour face. “I can’t find any of my old high school stuff.” she said casually.

You lean against the counter, “I didn’t take any of that stuff. I just packed up the essentials.”

“So, my stuff is in a storage unit?” Bridget asked irritated.

“No Birdie, it’s all still at the house in Georgia. I have Aunt Jo taking care of it. All your stuffs at home.” you replied exasperated.

“Aunt Josephine? I thought she was like... a recluse?” Bridget asked, making a scrunched face.

You roll your eyes, “No, Aunt Jo just never liked Lauren, so she never came around.”

“God, can you just call her mom Magpie? I hate it when you call momma Lauren... it’s weird.” Bridget said defensively.

You look up at Bridget with a raised brow, “I’m good, thanks. That would involve her having to stick around to be my mom.”

“I’m not getting into this with you again.” Bridget says in a huff of frustration hitting the counter with her hands.

“Fine.”

Silence settles over the two sisters, and you go to open the fridge to grab a prepackaged cold coffee.

“Soooooooooo,” you drawl out as you open the drink.

Bridget looks at you with a suspicious look.

“What are your Christmas plans?” you ask, trying to be casual.

“Jamie and I are going to see momma in Florida. We’ve had these plans for a while.” She said defensively not making eye contact.

“Birdie come on, you haven’t spent the past few Christmases with daddy, and if you did see him, it was for twenty minutes or a crummy half assed phone call.” you plead, throwing your hand up in emphasis.

“Y/N, I didn’t come here for a lecture, I just needed to know if you packed my shit when you decided to pack up all our lives and move out to DC without asking me.” Bridget murmurs bitterly under her breath.

Your brows furrow as you’re taken aback by your sister.

“Bridget, I didn’t pack up everyone's lives- we still have the house in Georgia!" You said mildly irritated.

Bridget just rolls her eyes and puts her glass in the sink. “Whatever...” She murmured.

You feel that small part of yourself, the one that gnaws and claws bubbling under your skin, poke itself to the surface. “What was I supposed to do? I had to make a decision for dad’s health!” you feel your voice rising in irritation that only your sister can bring out of you.

“Besides, I wasn’t the one who moved to DC to run away from her family.” you state bitterly.

“Oh, come off it!” Bridget throws her hands up in defeat. “I’m not running away-this was the best program for me, and you know that!”

“Then what do you call never seeing dad! You even called to ask if he was home before you came today, Birdie, just so you could avoid him... What would you call that?” you feel your voice raising and can’t stop the vitriol that spits out of your mouth at your sister.

There’s a pit in the bottom of your stomach that twists and churns when it comes to your sister and your dad. You had tried so hard to get her to understand that their father was dying. They’re already lucky with the years they’ve gotten. He’s beaten the odds, but he can’t go on forever. You don’t understand how Bridget can just act like life is normal when every day could be their dad’s last.

“It’s not my fault daddy’s sick!” Bridgit shouts, her own voice cracking, “It’s not my fault you’ve given up your own life to be his caretaker! So, stop blaming me for living my life, while you’re stuck here playing nurse!”

“I’m not blaming you-”

“Yes, you are! You always blame me-”

“No, I don’t Bridget! If anything, I’m jealous about how selfish you can be!” you feel the words tumbling out of your mouth like bile before you can stop herself. You're so angry and sad all the time. It’s not fair that you’re so aware of your father’s mortality while your baby sister gets to run around and live her carefree life.

“I just wish you’d think about the fact that daddy is dying!”

The silence that falls between them is thick, the tension tight, about to break. Bridget looks at her sister with hatred, “I’m very aware he’s dying Y/N... I’m not stupid.” she whispers out in a hard tone.

Bridget turns around to grab her coat and rushes quickly to the door.

You dig your heels in more, the words almost vomiting out your mouth in fierce resentment, “Go on Bridget, run away like you always do! I’ve been taking care of dad alone, anyway, not like he has two daughters!” your voice peaks and cracks in frustration.

You blink away the fat angry tears pricking your eyes.

Bridget turns on her heels to face her older sister, flipping you off, “Fuck you!” she hisses out in a venomous tone.

Bridget elbows her way past the man in front of her almost knocking him down as she runs off.

You rush to the door, about to yell something else after her when you see Spencer standing to the side in shock.

Your shoulders drop and you look ashamed, closing your mouth tightly. You take a deep breath.

“How much of that did you hear?” you asked quietly.

You can’t find it in yourself to look up at Spencer yet, embarrassed by your own unbridled rage.

He moves to push you gently back inside, “enough...” he replied softly closing the door behind him.

“C’mon sit down.” He gently moves you to the couch, forcing you to sit down.

He disappears into the kitchen for a short while and you sit on the couch looking at your lap. You feel the wave of resentment you were holding onto leave and be replaced with the intense sorrow that follows. The tears that were building finally fell, landing on your lap as you sobbed, trying to hold back your voice. Your throat feels tight as you sit there trying to hold yourself together, to not scream your lungs out.

You feel the sofa dip next to you and a small mug is pushed into your hands. It’s warm tea.

“There’s a lot of honey in there, I wasn’t thinking so it might be too sweet.” he said softly.

You just shake your head and sniffle, trying to compose yourself. “No such thing...” you tried to joke, moving the cup to your mouth, your hands shaking the whole time.

A sob escapes you before you can even drink the tea.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to say, the tears just sliding down your face, you look up at Spencer your lip quivering and eyes red.

Spencer gently grabs the tea and puts it on the coffee table before he opens his arms for you, and it doesn’t take but a short second before your face is in Spencer’s chest bawling.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Your body shakes from crying, you sound like a small child with how the sobs rip through your throat.

Spencer holds you until you calm down enough, he finally feels you stop shaking.

“Do you feel better now?” he whispers.

You pulled back and tried to dry your eyes, you could already feel the puffiness settling.

“No...” you murmured pitifully. “I feel worse, like I’m a bitch.” You look up at Spencer and see the massive wet stain from your tears.

“Sorry,” you point to his shirt, “didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. I thought you were coming later?” you said in a tiny voice.

“I was running early so I thought I’d just drop by, was that... Bridget?” he asked in a soft voice.

You nodded. “We were fighting about dad... again.” you admit finally grabbing your cup of tea that he made you.

Spencer face makes a silent ‘Oh’ as he nods in understanding.

“It sounded pretty bad.” he replied.

You groan, “I don’t like fighting about it. I don’t like fighting at all!” you said facing him. “We used to get along great, then... I don’t know. Everything changed when our parents divorced, and the gap just never stopped growing... Now there’s this great divide I can’t seem to reach across and...” you pause, taking a deep breath trying to stop the words from just falling out of your mouth. Exposing your raw skin that you’ve picked at so much your bones are exposed telling your story.

“I know she thinks I hate her for living her life.” You sigh looking at Spencer, who’s just been sitting and kindly listening. Attentively. “I do sometimes resent how carefree she is... but” you bite your lip.

“Spencer, I’m so scared that when dad dies... it’ll just,” you scoffed, “Me and that god forsaken bookstore.”

“I don’t want to lose them both.” you said, your eyes brimming with tears again.

If there was anything Spencer felt confident that he could do, it was helping you handle loss. He’s experienced it enough.

“You won’t be alone.” He tells you confidently; he reaches out to hold your hands tightly. “I’ll be here.” he reassured you.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned, everyone handles grief differently. Bridget...she might not be able to handle how sick your dad is.” Spencer tried to reason, anything to make you feel less alone.

“Avoiding it won’t make it go away...” you muttered.

“No, and she’ll eventually see that. You can’t force her to confront that fear.” he said pushing your hair behind her ear.

“It’s so hard, how do you do it? Alone with your mom?” you asked softly.

Spencer loses his breath for a moment before he swallows. Trying to find an answer.

“Well, she has doctors she trusts now. And a home that she feels safe in... but I spent my childhood taking care of her.”

Spencer scoffs, “I resent my father, he left a child alone to take care of a sick mother? He never helped me.”

You give him a soft nudge with your shoulder, “my mom's pretty shitty too.”

Spencer gives a hollow chuckle, “Does everyone have a shitty parent?” he asks, squeezing your hand.

You lay your head on his shoulder, “There has to be good parents... we just- we got unlucky.” you whisper.

“Maybe we did...” He murmured.

Silence settles between them and it’s calming, not the tense air that was with Bridget.

“You never told me what happened with your mom.”

You tense up.

“It’s not a story I like telling...” you sighed, “When I was thirteen, I overheard my parents arguing. Long story short, my mom cheated on my dad. Bridget was so young, like six, so when they divorced, they tried to lie to us. That it was mutual. Civil... I knew the truth though; I couldn’t look at my mom the same after that." you told him with a bitter smile.

“I already lost my mom; I just couldn’t take away Birdie’s...”

“You never told her?” he asked in surprise.

“It wasn’t for me to tell. I just, I was a teenager...I wanted to protect her you know? She didn’t need the bitterness that bites at the back of my throat every time I see that woman.”

Spencer nods in understanding. “You know, you’re allowed to feel angry. You don’t have to be agreeable or happy about everything. It’s okay to get mad sometimes.” His hand moves up to gently brush your hair.

You don’t respond to his statement, just try to not cry anymore.

“Can we go get lunch now?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Anywhere you want.”

The one where you find out Spencer works for the FBI

It’s a rough morning.

Massively rough, actually. Your alarm didn’t go off and if it wasn’t for Spencer calling you, you’d still be heavily sleeping.

You roll over to grab your phone and answer it.

“Hello?” your voice comes out groggy, slow, and thick with sleep.

“Hey! You still want to go to the convention? I’m leaving soon and I can swing by to grab you.” Spencer’s voice comes through.

You panic, and shots up staring at your bedside clock. “Oh god, Spencer I’m so sorry! I slept in!” You jump out of your bed and almost trip over your own clothes strewn on the floor from the night before.

“It’s okay- I can wait if you need me to-”

“No, no no! You were so excited, don’t wait up!” You interrupt him as you throw clothes from your closet around trying to find something you want to wear.

“It’s no big deal.” Spencer started to answer but you sighed.

“Spencer are you already dressed?” you pressed, grabbing one of your comfortable but cute skirts and a simple sweater. You throw them on your bed.

His silence is enough of an answer.

“You are.” you sighed and shook your head, “I have to go to the shop and pick up the money to deposit for the bank today. I’ll just meet up with you later. Promise. I just have to run this errand first.” you told him with a soft tone.

You hear his small huff, “It’s really not a big deal,”

“Spencer” you chastise him. “You’re already ready to go. I’ll probably just take a little over an hour. Then I'll be there, okay? Just do a few laps in the artist alley for me.” you tell him teasingly.

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Fine, but you owe me a coffee.”

“I always do.” you joked before hanging up.

You rush through putting on your makeup and throwing your clothes on. You gave yourself a quick once over before deciding that you can’t waste any more time. You looked decent enough.

You rushed down the stairs and came around the corner to see your dad sitting at the kitchen table.

“You sure you’re okay without me today?” you asked him, leaning down to kiss your dad on the cheek.

Her dad huffs, “I told you I can handle one day. Magpie, go out. You haven’t been out in months for fun.” He grunted in his deep voice, slurring his words together.

“I’m just asking daddy!” you snorted a soft laugh. “I want to make sure you don’t need anything before I leave.” you told him.

Her dad’s been able to move himself in and out of his own wheelchair for the most part, but you’re waiting for the day he can’t.

You’re waiting for the day your daddy can’t do most things.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m gonna watch the Brave’s game today and I better see them win.” He mumbled nodding to you.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t hold your breath on that one. I love you.”

“Love you too pumpkin.”

You grab your bag, “Be safe!” He hollers at you.

“I always am!” you shout back to him before leaving for the bookstore.

You are checking your watch in a mild panic. You’re not super off on the time you gave Spencer, but you still hate making him wait. You should have just taken the money deposit on Friday, but you were so sleepy you barely could do more than take your dad to his appointment.

You huffed in frustration, you only had yourself to blame.

You're finally up to deposit the stores money, and you thank the gods above. Then your, already bad day, goes terrible.

“Hey!”

Gun shots. Gun shots go off and you are frozen, your brain going into fight or flight. You turn quickly and see a woman with a short bob holding a gun and the security guard is on the ground, blood pooling beneath his body.

You feel your stomach fall out of your body and you’re shuffled with the crowd trying to get out. It feels like a blur.

“I want to see hands in the sky!” a new voice shouts.

Your hands go up, you see at least three guns and three different ugly face masks swinging their guns around. You feel like your ears are ringing while you’re ushered into a corner with the other patrons.

Your body is shaking from fear. Who the hell robs a bank on a Saturday afternoon?

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards, maybe you’ve heard of us.” The woman’s voice rings through again.

You stand next to a couple who start speaking lowly in a foreign language, you think it’s German. You know that they’re trying to plan something together.

The woman with her face mask turns around pointing her gun at the couple quickly walking toward them, speaking in their language. You have no idea what she says but you know it’s a threat.

“Get your faces on the floor already. I see eyes, you see bullets. Get it?” the woman shouts at them.

You slide down with everyone, fear eating away at you. You just hope the police are either quick or the robbers are.

“Get down on the ground!” one of the males screams.

You feel like a rock is in your throat. You just keep your head down, trying to keep yourself together. You aren’t focusing on what they’re saying. You know he’s demanding money but you’re just trying to focus on living.

You hear them shuffling, shouting, and then they're gone. Just as soon as you feel like you can breathe again, there’s more gunshots and the robbers come running back inside.

You are yanked up by your arm, forced to your feet. Your eyes meet the hollow black abyss of the woman’s mask as she holds the gun to your stomach. You can’t breathe, all you can think about is how you can’t leave your dad alone.

“Make a wall, stand near the doors and windows.” she demanded, shoving you toward the front door.

You heard the woman walk away, and you released a shaky breath squeezing your eyes shut.

This is not how you wanted today to go. You were supposed to be at a convention with Spencer. Dressed as Doctor Who characters, eating bland food, and buying something silly from the artist alley. You’d come home, make dinner, and watch a movie with your dad.

Now you don’t know if you’ll see your dad or Spencer again. God, you can’t think, what if you don’t see your dad again? Who’s going to take care of him? Your sister won’t. Your mind starts to spiral and you’re panicking, your breathing becomes shallow.

You're brought back by the woman who’s next to you grabbing your hand and holding it tight. It grounds you to the present. You can hear the conversation happening with the squabbling face masked robbers.

“I can’t find anything. No doors, no grates, nothing.” The woman informed the man.

“Yo! Lynne! What’s another way outta here?” He shouts disgruntled to the woman who was working behind the counter.

“Just the main entrance and the side door. It’s for security.” She responds timidly.

“I know that. You think I’m stupid?” He shouted at her with an exhausted sigh.

“What went wrong? We were on count.” The woman growls out in frustration.

“I need a doctor. Is anyone a doctor?!” The man is clearly ignoring her and trying to save the other man that’s with them.

You don’t hear much else, you start to tune out all the noise into a hum that almost feels like tv static against your skin. It makes you itch, but you can’t be bothered to try to move.

There’s a murmur of conversation from the group next to you but it just makes white noise in your ears. You're just numb and want desperately to be home or at the coffee shop with Spencer. Anywhere else.

A phone ringing is the only thing that vaguely pulls you out of it enough to pay attention again.

One of the robbers is on the phone, the woman keeps circling murmuring her own commentary.

“He’s trying to negotiate.” the man’s gruff voice cuts through.

“We’re not playing games!” The woman sneers back.

You feel the woman’s eyes scanning, heels clicking on the floor. You can feel your heart in your throat as it beats aggressively.

There’s sudden movement and near you the woman pulls a small girl. She screams for her dad who’s with her and he spins around begging for his daughter.

“Either we get what we want, or everyone in this room dies.”

The father’s voice is shaking as he begs. “Take me instead, please. Take me.”

“It’s okay baby.”

Then the loud noise of gun being shot makes you flinch as you see the man falling backwards and lands on the ground in front of you. His daughter screaming for him and trying to grab him.

You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing too easily you could be shot too.

“You better send in some help or more people are gonna die.” The man tells the police calmly on the phone.

You feel a shaky breath leave your body.

They keep going back and forth and you hear the phone again.

It feels like an out of body experience. You can’t think, barely can feel yourself breathing. If it wasn’t for the occasional heel clicking or unfortunate gun shot, you’d think it was a nightmare.

The front door opens, and a man walks through a metal detector, he looks like medical personnel. The woman tries to pat him down, but the other robber is in the floor with a dying man screaming for help.

The room in dead silent as you hear the man work, trying to save the robber on the ground.

The room is starting to smell like blood and what you can only assume is the stench of death. You hate the iron that’s infiltrating your nostrils, and you’ve never thought of yourself to be queasy with gore, but this is real. Not a horror movie.

There’s at least two dead men in front of you on the floor, a small girl sobbing into a strange woman, and soon to be another body.

Another gunshot.

You still flinch. The medics body now is dragged forward into the pile of dead men. Alongside the other robber. Four. Four dead men.

You want to hurl. You are not built for this, that’s why you run a bookstore and cafe.

“Everyone move forward!” the woman demands with a shout.

You vaguely hear the phone ring again and you wonder when this will be over. Will they shoot all of them? Will they kill another person, five more? When does it end and what can the police even do?

You’re starting to think this bank will be the last four walls you ever see. You have to blink back the tears and not let that thought overwhelm you.

The man and woman are squabbling again. Turning on each other? You can’t really tell.

“I wanna talk to the cop who shot my brother.”

Well, there goes that tactic. No betrayals here... just possibly another dead officer.

The man gets back on the phone and the back and forth goes on, he keeps demanding the officer, even offering to let hostages go. That feels far too good to be true though.

One of the men near you gets dragged back, pulled over to the phone.

“Come on bud, let’s go!”

“Pick up the phone.” the robber demands.

“Why?” the man’s shaking voice asks.

“Pick up the phone!” he shouts, like he’s desperate.

“Hello?” the man is clearly scared, voice shaking and small.

“Tell him your name.”

“It’s...” He swallows, “It’s Shawn Harper.”

There’s another gun shot, and you wish you didn’t know what a body hitting the floor sounded like.

And that makes five innocent bodies, and one dead robber.

“Ugh, you just killed Shawn Harper. Not me, you.” the man hisses through the phone.

You’re going to hurl, what a sick thing to say.

“I’m going to shoot another hostage every sixty seconds until you send in the cop.”

You freeze.

You try to close your eyes, and you’ve never been a very religious person... which is not common for someone from Georgia, but you find yourself begging to some god, or whoever, that you can make it out. You have to make it out.

“Who’s next huh?”

He grabs a woman and drags her back. Telling her to pick up the phone. Your body trembled as you tried desperately to block out the gunshot you knew you would hear.

“Pick it up, come on. Pick it up.” he goads the woman, her sobs broken between her shaking breathes.

“What’s your name?” he pressures.

“No,” she gasps, “Please...” her voice broken.

“Tell him your name!” he shouts at the woman.

“Annie...” she gasps, swallowing a sob, “It’s Annie.”

“Annie, you got about 30 seconds, I hope Agent Rossi doesn’t make me shoot you too.” he tells her, with fake sympathy in his voice.

The man next to you decides that now is the time to chat. He turned to face the woman with children, he whispered something to her, and you can’t believe this man has lost his mind.

“Hey! You! Come over here.” The robber yells at him, his gun pointing much too close to you for your liking.

“Just let the women and children go. They don’t need to see this.” The man tried to negotiate with the robber.

You almost scoffed, what did this guy think he was doing?

“Pretty soon they’re gonna be doing a lot more than seeing.” The man hisses out, “Annie, you just got yourself a reprieve, get in line over there.”

The robber grabs the man shoving him towards the phone and you sigh.

“My name is Matthew Downs.” he speaks into the phone.

Suddenly an officer walks through the door, his hands up in surrender.

“Let those people go.” his accent is much thicker than yours, southern but he’s not from Georgia.

“Alright, you, you, you, you-” he pushes the woman and two children next to you. “The kids, get out.”

He sounds like a man who’s finally found release, like he’s getting what he’s always wanted.

You watch the officer talk to the robbers, and you see him fall, two shots to his chest.

You released a shaky gasp. The man, Matthew? Who was at the phone rushes over and grabs onto you. He directs you and forces you to put her hands on the officer.

“Keep pressure on it.”

You nod and follow his instruction easily.

Matthew grabs the medical bag and starts instructing you on what to do. You're on the floor, holding a cloth and putting pressure heavily on the cop in front of you. He instructs the pressure is the most important and that’s what she does.

She’s trying to breathe, steady her hands to be helpful. The officer on the ground keeps trying to talk and you are so close to panicking that you’re about to yell at this poor man bleeding out on the ground.

“Are you armed?” Matthew asked him.

“No.” He murmured, hissing in pain.

“Damn... I think we might have something of a chance here.” your eyebrows were raised in surprise at his words.

“What?” the cop looks just as confused.

“The girls gone and the guys off his head. He doesn’t know who to trust. We can work them against each other.” Matthew whispered to both of them.

“Wait are you a cop?” he tries to ask, still struggling.

“A former marine.” Matthew grunts out.

The officer is moving too much, and his blood is all over your hands. You can’t get the metallic smell out of your nose and you’re trying to keep it together.

“You gotta listen to me, I need you to get a message to my girlfriend.” he tried to ask.

“All right, you can tell her yourself when you get out of here.” Matthew reassures him.

You huff and looks at the officer with determination, “I need you to not think in only death, okay? Everything looks a little bleak right now and I really need some kind of hope to hold on to. There are already five dead bodies, don’t make it six.” you hiss out at him.

“Only I’m not getting outta here... you need someone to cause a distraction.” he murmured trying to sit up.

“What are you doing?!” you try to push him back down but he’s surprisingly resilient for someone who was just shot.

“Her name is Jennifer, and she’s a federal agent. You tell her I’m sorry.” the cop tells Matthew.

The two continue to go back and forth and you can’t bother to get yourself off the ground. You're watching this officer like he’s gone mad.

He walks on shaky legs, hobbling over to the robber. He goads him, pushing the man. Turning his trust around on its head.

Then the robbers walking off with him to the back, and they’ve left an opening for them to escape.

Matthew bends down to help you off the ground and shoves you out the door, and suddenly you can breathe again. Officers swarm them and escort them off to the safety of a police barricade.

You look around, taking in the massive amounts of vans, officers, the FBI agents, and swat team.

You're watching them move in, trying to do their jobs. Arrest the bad guys... but you watch with wide eyes the massive explosion that destroys the inside of the bank. Shooting debris out onto the ground. It really hits you, like a massive punch to your gut, how lucky you are to even be alive.

You’re with the rest of the survivors, huddled near one of the police cruisers, all of them waiting for medics to check them and for other cops to take statements. It’s all just a blur. Everything is happening too fast and too slowly all at once. You don’t even know what the time is or how long you’ve been trapped in that bank.

Then through the fog of your head you see something so familiar you have to do a double take to believe it.

Spencer.

Your Spencer, coming out of a federal vehicle in a bullet proof vest reading FBI. You'll blame the adrenaline later, but your feet start walking away from the safety of your spot and it’s like tunnel vision. you're running, and while you hear people yelling, you can’t stop. Your only goal is Spencer, he was a lifeline in this moment. A grounding figure in your shock.

“Spencer?” your feet pound on the pavement, the loud commotion around you fading into a buzzing sound behind you. “Spencer!” you shout at him.

With laser focus he finds you, his face filled with relief but even more worry.

Spencer had seen you on the cameras, and it took every fiber of his being to not immediately want to drive down to barge in for you. He knew, logically, he was better helping out Garcia and looking over the maps. Every time Spencer heard a gunshot; it was a jolt of panic as his eyes scanned the cameras making sure it wasn’t you. You couldn’t die. Spencer doesn’t think he could recover from that. You’re bright and kind and the last person who deserved to be in this kind of hostage situation.

Every second felt like an hour and his brain was whirling a million different scenarios.

“Y/N,” he meets you halfway, holding your arms and walking you back to safety.

“You can’t be here, this isn’t safe.” He tells you sternly, his brow furrowed in a deep line. It’s an expression you've never seen, so serious. His eyes flashed over your body trying to check if you were okay. He freezes when he sees the blood caked on your hands. He gently grabbed your hands, and it made you look down.

“It’s not mine.” you murmured quietly.

Spencer sighed in relief and looked back at you with more determination.

“Just stay with the officers, okay? They will keep you safe. I promise I’ll explain but I have to do my job.” He tells you; he’s navigated you back to where you started, and he hands you off to a medic.

You want to argue with him, but his tone leaves no room for it and your energy is fading.

“Make sure she’s looked at.” He told the medic in a fiercely intense tone.

“Stay with them. I will explain...later.” he said giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he turns to leave.

You have no energy left to try to argue. You’re just filled with exhaustion as the medic checks your vitals. You vaguely hear him talking to you, but you can’t pay attention. Your eyes never left Spencer as you follow him. He works his way around like it's second nature.

For a moment, you realized there’s a whole part of his life that you had no idea about... he’d never told you.

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur, you don’t touch your phone until it’s well into the late evening. Seeing missed calls from so many people. You can only find it in yourself to call your dad.

“Magpie? Magpie, please tell me you’re okay.” Your dad’s voice rings through, warbled like he’s about to cry. Big Joe isn’t a crier, he just never has been. A pang of guilt shoots through you because you feel guilty for not calling sooner.

“I’m, I’m safe daddy, I’m at the station.” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the smoke and underuse.

“Oh, thank god.” The sigh of relief speaks more than his words do.

“I’ll be home tonight, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave...”

“Come home as soon as you can sweetie.”

“I love you daddy.” your voice shakes, and it’s watery, almost on the verge of tears.

“I love you too. Come home safe, and I mean it.” His voice is firm, but filled with warmth and it has you cracking her foundation. Tears escaped your eyes.

She wipes them away furiously, trying to save her waterworks for when she’s alone tonight and processing what the hell even happened today.

By the time you hang up you see a small group entering the police station, and there's a familiar mop of brown hair.

Spencer beelines towards you. You stand to meet him, and you’re enveloped in a tight hug and whispers you can’t hear against your neck.

“You’re safe, you’re safe.” You hear him chanting and from how he’s holding you, you realize he’s saying it for his benefit.

The two stand in silence, holding onto each other. You really couldn’t care about the onlookers. You almost died over a stupid bank robbery; you were going to hug your best friend.

“So, is every day this scary for you?” you asked quietly.

“Kind of part of the job.” he chuckled moving back to look you over. His sharp eyes trying to see if there was something wrong, if you were injured.

“So, FBI?” you tilt your head with a raised brow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a fed.” you teased, trying to ease the tension.

“Behavioral Analysis Unit, specifically.” He adds.

Your eyebrows raise, “Jesus, I need a sedative...” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Spencer just shrugged, “I just needed somewhere that was for me, yeah know? Keep the work out of the personal?”

You nodded, “Yeah well, I’d would have liked to know that when my best friends out of town, it could be life threatening.” you said with a small fake punch to his arm.

“You worry enough about too much. Don’t worry about me.” he told you firmly.

“That’s easier said than done.” you murmured with a frown.

“Come on, let me take you home. I’m sure Big Joe’s worried sick.” Spencer said moving to grab your hand and lead you out.

You just nod and follow behind him.

“Spencer, are you sure this is okay? I mean I don’t know anyone.” You asked trying to straighten out your dress.

Spencer was behind the driver's seat in a tuxedo of his own and he was looking at your nervous gestures. He reaches over to hold your hands and squeezes.

“I know it’s okay. Besides, you might as well meet everyone. I was going to introduce you to Garcia at the convention anyway.” He shrugs casually.

“I promise they don’t bite; besides, you definitely know Will.” he said with a faint smirk.

“Spencer Reid that does not count! I was applying pressure to make sure the man didn’t bleed out all over the floor of that bank!” you huff in irritation.

“I promise you’ll get along, and if I don’t Morgan’s going to start thinking I’m taking out call girls after work.” He frowns in mild annoyance.

“Wow, glad to know you think I'm a step up from call girl.” you said jokingly, reaching over to pat his arm. “Great pep talk Spence.”

You move to get out of the car your giggles following. Spencer fumbles to escape the car.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he tried to explain.

You put your hand up, “It’s fine, come on my nerves are definitely gone now.”

Spencer just smiled at you, watching you smooth out your starry sky dress. The deep blue complimenting her as silver stars dangle from your ears.

“I’ll stop while I’m ahead.” he said.

“Good call.”

Spencer walks you up to Rossi’s house, well, mansion. Your eyes widened a bit before turning to him.

“Bestselling author... for multiple books.” he confirmed.

He takes you out to the back to greet everyone’s who's there. You're distracted by the large space and beautiful displays. The flower petals on the ground, the beautiful tables, not to mention an open bar. Spencer gently guides you over to his team Hotch, Garcia, and Morgan who are gathered in a small circle.

Before Spencer can introduce you Morgan’s already looking you up and down.

“So, you're the little friend Reid wouldn’t tell us about?” He points at you before returning his hand to his pocket. Morgan’s charming and mischievous smile on his face.

There’s a gasp, and Garcia gives a small, excited jump, “The bookstore girl!” She almost shouts at you. “You’re gorgeous!” She moved to hold your hands and made you do a small spin to look at your dress. “So sparkly, I like!”

Morgan leaned over to Reid, “She might have already started drinking...”

“Can’t believe you’d keep us a secret Reid.” Hotch teased, his arm resting around Beth’s waist pressing her closer to his side.

“You’re all vultures, every single one. No privacy with you guys.” Spencer told them shaking his head.

“You’re lucky you lasted this long, if I had known just a little more, I could have looked into her.”

“That's... exactly what I’m talking about Garcia...” Spencer sighs heavily.

“I’m Y/N, it’s really nice to meet you guys.” You introduce yourself with a smile and a small laugh.

“So, a bookstore?” Morgan raised his brow in question.

“Yeah! I co-own the Midnight Owl. It’s a bookstore and cafe that is open late nights to offer a space for book loving insomniacs like myself.” you said cheerfully.

“That explains how Reid met you.” Rossi’s voice drifts in as he comes up to meet Spencer’s new friend.

He extends his hand out to shake yours. “David Rossi, nice to meet you.”

You give him a warm smile, “Thank you for hosting, your home is beautiful.”

You leave Spencer for a while going to walk off with Penelope as the blonde leads you to the open bar.

“How long have you been friends with Reid?” she asked.

You take a sip from your drink and think, “Three years, going on four.”

Penelope’s brows go up, “Oh he’s been keeping you a verrrrrry big secret.”

You roll your eyes, “Well he regretted to inform me his day job was being an FBI agent.”

“Does it matter?” The blonde asked tilting her head.

You could feel Penelope’s piercing protective gaze on you. You shake your head. “No obviously not. He’s my best friend. I just... will probably worry ten times more about him now.” you admit.

“They’re the best team I know.” Penelope tells you softly.

“Won’t stop me from worrying, but thanks for trying.” you give a half smile before taking another sip.

“I worry too, constantly.” She stage whispers to you.

You bubble into laughter and the two make their way back over to the small group.

Other groups of people were trickling into the back yard filling up space and chattering.

Spencer’s nowhere to be found with his coworkers and you try to search for him, finally finding him crouched next to a small blonde child. You excuse yourself and make your way over.

You tilt your head as you watch Spencer roll a ring between his fingers in front of the child and make the ring disappear and reappear before the boy's eyes.

“Go on Henry,” he ruffles the blonde’s hair, “Time to go be the ring bearer. It’s a very important job.” Spencer ushers Henry off.

“You just keep surprising me.” you whispered walking over to him.

Spencer shrugs, “There’s a lot to find out.” he replied.

“Have you always been this good with kids?” you asked.

Spencer smiled, “I love them.” The way that he says it, you can see how much he wants that. To be a dad. To be in love.

“I think you’ll make a great dad one day, if that’s anything to go by.” you tell him.

Spencer just brushed the comment off and led you over to the altar.

“Who knows, maybe one day.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds season 7

57 notes · View notes

rogersideup · 10 months ago

Text

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 2

Wine and Dine

Series masterlist

Previous part: Love You More Next part: Expendable

Word Count: 6,169

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

Steve wasn't quite sure he had ever ran so fast in his entire life. Wearing a heather grey henley, jeans, and some nice shoes, he knew he probably looked ridiculous as he zoomed by people in the hallways like a gust of wind.

After being deployed on the emergency mission for almost 3 weeks now, you were just about to land at the compound. From what he understood from the gossip floating around the compound, and confirming by the report notifications that popped up in the corner of his computer, it was a really bad one.

Agents were dropping like flies, if felt like every few hours one was being sent back to the compound due to injury or a psychological break. He tried multiple times to get the Avengers on the mission to help clear it out faster, it was obviously way too big for the agents to be handling alone.

Every time he tried, Fury shot him down because there already was an avenger on the mission. Though he agreed and trusted whole heartedly that you could handle it, he knew that if he was in your position, single handedly being the only reason why anything was actually getting done under exhaustive conditions, he'd appreciate another member of his team being sent to him

Not even a full minute ago you had called him in hysterics. He could barely understand you through your cries but he could tell just by the sounds slipping past your throat that you were in unbearable pain. It made his heart pound out of his chest as he tried to console you to the point of being able to understand what had happened.

When Commander Bennet realized that the wind had been knocked out of you, he gently grabbed the phone from your hands and spoke to Steve.

"Captain Rogers?" He quested after reading 'Steve' at the top of your phone screen.

"Yeah, hi, what's going on?" Steve asked frantically.

"Agent 306 is not in good shape. We had some sort of biological weapon hit us hard. It was a pale blue, powdery substance that was causing extreme irritation and almost burn like reaction on any exposed skin it touched." Bennett explained.

"But her tact suit covers most of her skin-" Steve vocalized his thoughts.

"She tried to stop the attack before it got worse, jumped on the attacker's back to yank the weapon out of his hand but..." He sighed. "Agent 212..."

"What did Harvey do?" Steve started seething.

"To put it simply, 212 got in her way. She had it and was about to put the whole mission to an end. I'm not sure if he thought he was going to beat her to it or if he wanted to help, but he threw her off and crashed right into her. The attacker grabbed hold of the collar of her tact suit from the back of her neck and poured a pretty large amount of the powder all the way down her back."

"Oh man, how bad is it?" Steve got up, already knowing where this was leading.

"She's in excruciating pain." He put simply. "We have lab techs on board studying the substance. They said that the effects are only extreme irritation, burns, and stinging pain for upwards of 5 hours. We already informed medical, they said there's not much they can do other than shower her and try to manage the pain with ibuprofen. She said she'd rather just do that at home, and she's asking for you now. Any way you could meet us on the runway?"

"Absolutely, what's the ETA?" Steve asked, walking down the hall towards the Jet landing runway.

"Touch down in a minute-thirty."

"I'll be there." Steve said simply before hanging up.

From where he was in the building, he knew making it to the runway was a five minute walk, so he made it a one minute and thirty second run instead.

He pushed through the doors to get outside onto the runway just as the jet wheels had touched down on the tarmac. The second it stopped moving, he practically ripped the door open with his own two hands and waited very impatiently for the rush of agents disembarking before he could get to you.

Harvey didn't get a chance to pass by Steve without receiving a glare from the soldier that sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

The very second he could, Steve rushed onto the Jet and you were curled up on the floor with your knees to your chest and your face digging into your knee caps. Commander Bennett was at your side trying to comfort you, but you were rocking back and forth to try and manage the pain, and doing your best to muffle your sobs as to not further inconvenience any of the other agents who had to hear you whaling the entire flight home.

Steve sank onto his knees right next to you, and placed a hand on you arm.

"You got it from here, Captain?" Bennett asked.

"Of course." Steve nodded, understanding he had more work to be done.

"Report back to me when you can?" Steve could see the worry in his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

Your commander got up and off the Jet following the other agents, and Steve's heart was still uncomfortably racing around in his chest.

"Hey, Bug." Steve gently squeezed your arm to try and get you to uncurl from your tiny little ball.

"M'sorry to bother you" You cried while lifting your head. Talking through the pain and shortness of air in your lungs was a struggle, but you took a moment and tried your hardest. "It hurts so bad, didn't know what else to do."

"It's okay, you're not a bother to me." He shook his head and got a good look at you.

Your tact suit was covered in smoke and ash, as well as your face. There was a deep scratch along your left cheek bone accompanied by smeared blood, presumably your own, and you jawline on the right side was bruised.

Steve's pounding heart came to a stand still before completely melting into a puddle when you let your forehead fall onto his collarbone. Instinctively, his hand gently cradled the back of your head.

Immediately, you felt safer and calmer in his hold. Letting someone take over your well-being when you had no control was terrifying, but Steve earned your trust more than anyone else in your life ever did. Around him, you knew everything would be okay regardless of the circumstances.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He questioned calmly.

"Feels like I ca-can't breathe" You hiccuped.

"I know, I'm sorry." Steve pouted. "Having the wind knocked out of you is normal sometimes when you're in that much pain. It's one of the worst feelings in the world but it'll go away. Just keep taking big deep breaths, it'll start to fade."

"S...still powder in my suit." You warned him. "Careful."

"Okay, we should get it off of you as soon as we can then." He thought out loud knowing that as long as it was still making contact with your skin, you would never start to feel better. "I'm going to get you out of here and up to your apartment okay?"

"Hurts so bad- feel like I can't move." You explained the best you could, internally panicking.

"Can I carry you?" Steve questioned, wanting to make sure he had your permission.

"What if it gets on you?" You questioned, not wanting him to feel the same pain you were in.

"I'm wearing long sleeves and long pants, it'll be okay." He reassured you. "I don't want to hurt your back even more, so wrap your arms around my neck and I'll hold onto the bottom of your legs."

You were happy to wrap your arms gently around his neck, and your legs around his waist as he carefully lifted you up. Without as much as a second thought, you nestled your face into the crook of his neck and continued to let the presence of your best friend comfort you while you focused on trying to catch your breath.

Steve was so focused on his personal mission to make you feel better that he didn't let his mind even entertain his personal feelings for you anymore. Meanwhile, you had an opposite technique to reign in some pain management. Steve smelled so good that the deep breathing with your face shoved into his neck was now a pleasant experience, and momentarily took your mind off the unbearable pain you were in.

Unfortunately his incredible taste in cologne wasn't enough to completely stop your mental and physical pain by the time he got you into your apartment and gently set you down on your own two feet. He offered you his forearm to keep a hold on to steady yourself, he could tell your muscles were overworked, exhausted, and tightly tense.

Steve could feel the hand you kept hold of him with was shaking, as were your legs, and chattering jaw that you tried your hardest to clench shut.

Single handedly, he worked diligently to remove your personal defense weapons that lived in your leg holsters. Grabbing the gun and dagger, he reached behind him and quickly put them in the weapon safe by the door.

Then he led you to the couch and had you sit down, helping you on the way down. He quickly sank to his knees and his fingers untied the laces on your boots and pulled them off your feet before he got to work on removing all the black leather straps and buckles of the holsters on your legs.

He looked up at you momentarily just to make sure you didn't seem uncomfortable by how he was touching you, but your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly and your mind was so far away it felt like you weren't even in the room with him anymore.

"Relax your jaw, Buggy." Steve caught your attention with a small squeeze to your calf before going at the holster on your thigh.

"But it's chattering" You cried, relaxing it to prove it was rattling.

"That's okay, just let it happen." He reassured you.

You nodded, eyes still squeezed shut with occasional tears slipping past them.

"Let all your muscles relax, keep taking big breaths." His sweet voice guided you, moving on from your left leg to your right. "Remember that this pain is temporary, this is the worst of it right now and you're taking it like a champ. You're doing a good job."

Letting your eyes open, you watched him shove his phone between his shoulder and head, freeing both his hands to continue removing pieces of your suit. Then he started talking, throwing around commands, asking for necessary assistance to make sure your suit is properly cleaned and the hazardous substance would be responsibly handled.

At some point, your eyes closed again and you started feeling faint. He stood up, still on the phone and walked away for a moment then came back with a glass of water for you in one hand, and medicine in the other hoping it could at least help jumpstart the pain management.

Then, you heard something that made your eyes rip open.

"Hey Buck, yeah she's okay - in a lot of pain but she's going to be fine. Hey- can you do me a favor? Can you go into my apartment and grab me a change of clothes? Just a shirt and some sweatpants please? Thank you so much, I'll leave the door unlocked for you. See you soon."

You took in his appearance and realized you had completely destroyed his outfit. Smoke and soot had smeared all over his light grey shirt and the the top of his jeans. There was blood on his shoulder from your face, and wet spots from your tears.

"I'm so sorry." You cried, genuinely feeling bad about it. "I ruined your clothes!"

"I'm not worried about it" He denied your apology. "You're more important than a shirt."

"I'll buy you a new one." You shook your head.

"You have bigger fish to fry at the moment, Bug." Steve said sweetly. "Let's get you in the shower now. The faster this gets washed off of you the better."

Deep down Steve was really concerned about you, but he internalized it as to not freak you out. You seemed weak and unsteady on your own two feet, and your cries were still sad enough to make him want to cry for you.

"Help me up?" You asked, holding out your hands.

He took them without question and helped you off the couch before guiding you to the bathroom and starting the shower for you. Making sure it was not too cold to be uncomfortable, but not too hot to hurt your burns even more, he finally settled on the perfect temperature.

When Steve turned back around to let you know it was good to go, he was going to walk right out and let you shower in peace. That was until you started crying even harder just by trying to unbutton your pants. Every move you made was increasingly uncomfortable, and in that moment you both knew that showering alone wasn't an option.

The hot shocking pain and trauma of the three week long mission alone made letting Steve see you naked feel like just another drop in the bucket. You couldn't even get yourself to pretend to care, all of the insecurities and fears you'd typically have over this flew out of the window when you could see the genuine worry in his sweet blue eyes.

"Do you need help?"

"Can you please stay?"

Both of you asked almost shyly at the same time.

"Yes please."

"Of course"

You talked over each other once again.

Everything you could've possibly been worried about wasn't even a thought in Steve's mind when you asked him to stay. Although his heart warmed over the sentiment that you felt comfortable enough around him to ask in the first place, he wanted to make sure he maintained that same level of trust.

So he took the same approach he took before any training session he knew you were scared of, or any time he had to touch your body.

A simple one word question that he always expected a completely honest response to, it always went a long way.

So before he even helped you begin undressing, he asked it.

"Trust?" He questioned.

Whenever he asked you this, he wanted a percentage out of 100 to gauge how much trust you felt for him in that very moment. Whether he was about to catch you from two stories high, or send you off to do something new, he wanted to make sure you were confident enough in him as your partner. If you ever answered below a 90, that's when he would put a stop to everything and the two of your would talk it through until you felt comfortable and confident enough to execute the plan.

"100" you answered without question, your shaky hands trying their hardest to unzip your shirt.

Only after you responded did he start to undress you. His hands took over the zipper, and swiped it downward. When he helped you tug off the sleeves he was careful to not touch the inside of your suit to not get any of the substance on himself, but once your top was off, he could tell it was all caked onto your skin and no longer dry. "If that changes or you want me to leave at any point, you tell me, okay?"

"Okay." You nodded, feeling a slight relief as the cold air hit your back.

Piece by piece, he helped you get undressed and into the shower. He stood next to you the whole time, and as the water washed off the dirt and grime, he could see the extent of the damage on your back and he internally cringed.

"You poor thing, this looks so painful." Steve pouted. Though you were quite literally fully naked in front of him, he couldn't stop staring at the plane of your back. It was fire engine red, and your skin was definitely angry at the substance.

"Fury is going to be so mad at me." You sniffled, starting to feel like you could talk in complete sentences again.

"Why?" Steve asked, head tilting slightly.

"I should be at the mission debriefing." You explained.

"You we're injured, there are exceptions." Steve denied. "You know who Fury will actually be mad at? Harvey."

Just the mention of his name had your cry growing sadder by the moment. "Can I tell you something as a friend and not as a boss?"

Steve's face softened, and he nodded.

"He did it on purpose." You claimed with confidence as your fingers scrubbed shampoo into your hair. "The whole mission Harv and his friends were doing things to sabotage me and I kept getting hurt. I felt like I was going crazy, and it was already a really bad mission to be on in the first place. I feel so defeated and defenseless right now."

When you admitted that, his eyes went from your back to a big, black and blue bruise the side of his palm right on your rib cage.

"Harvey will be dealt with whether he did it on purpose or accident. He made a really stupid choice that obstructed the mission and got another agent hurt, the best agent we got." Steve explained. "They'll probably open an investigation and pull any footage they have and talk to some other witnesses to get their side of the story. If it's ruled that it was on purpose his punishment will be much worse than if it was an accident."

"They're just going to come after me even harder." You cried. "I don't know what I did so wrong that they decided that they needed to make my life a living hell. I try to be nice to everyone, I participate when I need to, I help them when they need help, and I even do the dirty work so nobody else has to. Everyone still hates me. Nobody cares if I get hurt."

Steve's broken heart impossibly shattered again. "Do you believe us when we tell you it's jealousy? The men here have tiny little ego's. They're fragile and insecure so when they see how great you are, they just want to knock you down any chance they get. It's not your fault."

"I don't feel like I'm the best one here." You finally denied in a moment of vulnerable weakness. You we're already naked, what damage could admitting your true feelings possibly do? "I don't even feel like I'm good at what I do in general."

"You may feel like that right now, but that's not fact. It's far from the truth." Steve denied your accusations against yourself. "You're meant to be an Avenger, we're all confident in that. That mission should've never been delegated to you guys. It should've gone to the Avengers, and even then it would've been hard for us. But I was watching the updates and statistics come through while you were gone. You single handedly held the operation together and led it to success with nothing but your own guidance. You're incredible, you even outperformed the Avengers."

You shook your head in denial before tipping it back and letting the water wash away the soapy lather in your beautiful silky hair. "I should be debriefing but instead I'm crying in the shower I can't even take by myself without being a hazard."

"They have tormented you so much that you believe crying is a sign of weakness." Undertones of disapproval soaked through his tone. "Their words have you believing that you're not good enough for this, yet I don't see any of them being good enough to do half of what you do."

"I don't know how to get it to stop." You sniffled. "If I don't fight back, they keep going. If I do fight back, they come at me twice as hard. If you don't say anything, they think it's okay. If you do yell at them, it just gets worse."

"Join the team." Steve stated simply, reaching out into the shower to swipe some smoke off your face that you missed.

"I'm tired, Stevie." You admitted with a sad cry. "Right now, I don't even know how I'm going to wake up and get myself to work as an agent tomorrow. I don't know how I can do this anymore, let alone be an Avenger."

"Exactly, you're tired and you're hurting." Steve validated. "Emotionally and physically, you're a human with with needs, none of which have been met in a very long time. You had your heart broken, and with no time to recover you had tosee Harvey every day for three weeks, then he hurt you even more. We'll get you some rest, some food, you'll get some time off work to make sure you heal up and recover. I promise you that you'll feel better."

"I sure hope so." You sniffled, washing the rest of the soap off now that you were squeaky clean. "Because right now, my heart is heavy and i feel defeated."

"Then let's take baby steps towards making you feel better, we'll start by making the heaviness a lot lighter." Steve offered you a hand to help you step out of the shower as you turned the water off. A hint of a smile poked through your pouted lips as he wrapped your fluffy towel around your body as carefully as he could as to not hurt your back anymore than it already did.

"Do you have to go back to work?" You asked sadly, not wanting to have to let go of the comfort he always provided you. "I really missed you while I was away."

"It's okay, I'll take the rest of the day off." Steve denied. "I missed you too, I was worried about you."

There was a small knock on the door before Bucky came in, and before either of you could even acknowledge his presence, both of your feet carried you towards him.

Bucky quickly handed Steve the clothes he brought for him, then all his attention was on you.

"Stay with her for a minute, I'm going to change really fast." Steve squeezed Bucky's shoulder out of gratitude.

You we're still slowly crying from the pain, and wrapped up in the towel like a little human burrito.

No words needed to be exchanged between you and your friend and he very carefully pulled you against his warm body for a long hug.

After Steve changed into the clothes Bucky brought him and walked back out into the living room to the scene of you being comfortably wrapped up in his arms as the two of you exchanged quiet words he could barely hear, he couldn't help the tiny pang of jealousy. He felt like a teenage boy who had no control over his emotions. He knew it was wrong, so he pushed it down just like he did all his other feelings towards you.

When Bucky noticed Steve was back, he mumbled an apology to you about needing to get back to work, and promised he would come by later to check up on you. And just as fast as he arrived, he left.

Steve helped you get dressed again, which was a struggle. But the two of you worked together to find a loose enough shirt to put on as to not hurt your back, super soft shorts, and definitely no bra to dig into your skin. But he already saw your boobs so there was no harm in that decision.

By the time you climbed into your own bed for the first time in weeks, and Steve got in next to you, a bit of relief washed over you. The tears came to an end and now you were nothing but stray sniffles and a little ball of frustration as you tried your hardest to get comfortable without laying on your back.

Steve wasn't quite sure how it happened, but you ended up half on your side-half on your stomach with your head in his lap and one of your legs hiked up. Once you were comfortable, he pulled up the back of your shirt to let the cool air hit the burn and to make sure the fabric wasn't irritating the area even more.

He could tell you were still in pain, so he comforted you by running his fingers through your hair. You soaked up every moment of the pleasant sensation, it gave you something to focus on other than the pain.

Single-handedly, he grabbed his phone and pulled up your profile on the music streaming app you downloaded onto his phone so you could create playlists together and share music. He picked a playlist you curated of all your favorite soothing songs and played it quietly for you.

Steve knew music was important to you, most of the time you had at least one airpod in your ear and you were always showing him new music. He loved listening to the songs you found good enough to share with him, and he loved sharing the experience of listening to music with you all because he knew it made you happy.

"Do you have a comfort movie or show?" Steve asked. "Or anything you do to help you fall asleep?"

"Yeah, I get into your bed." You mumbled out a joke, feeling completely drained. Your eyes didn't need to be open to know he was smiling.

"The faster we can get you to fall asleep, the better." He noted.

"Are you tired of me already?" You questioned, another joke.

"Absolutely not." Steve denied with a giggle. "If you fall asleep, you can get through a big chunk of the pain with no awareness to it."

"I was just on a mission for three weeks barely getting any sleep. Just give me a minute, I'll sleep like the dead."

"Why weren't you getting any sleep?" Steve questioned, continuing to rub your scalp.

"They kept assigning me to sleep next to Harvey no matter how many times I asked them to not do that." You explained. "Completely separate cots and sleeping bags and he still tried to get me to have sex with him every single night we were there. Every time I denied him he'd try to spark an argument then I'd get upset and just lay awake because I couldn't turn my brain off."

"He was trying to sleep with you after a whole day on the battlefield? After he said he could never be with someone like you?" Steve questioned. "Did he not break up with you? Is he not exhausted by the end of the day?"

"You'd think there would be significant logistical issues he would consider before trying to initiate but he didn't let anything get in his way." You agreed with Steve. "I have no plans of ever having sex with him again, and he thinks it's a game. Like I'll crumble and whither away without his dick."

"That sounds like a terrible situation you have to put up with everyday." Steve noted. "If I had to look at any of my ex girlfriends every day at work, let alone be on a mission with them for three weeks I don't think both of us would make it out alive, and they would be the ones surviving every time."

You sleepily giggled at his words. "It is pretty terrible, but I'm hoping he will realize soon that there's better dick to be had elsewhere. I'm horny, but never horny enough to have sex with him ever again."

"Wow, you're so strong." Steve laughed. "That was really philosophical."

"I know right?" Your lazy smile stretched.

"If he's making you lose sleep, that's just more proof he's obstructing agents from reaching the objective." Steve noted.

You hummed in agreement, letting the heaviness in your heart and mind settle and the exhaustion in your body take over.

A few moments of silence passed before Steve broke it, his thoughts becoming too loud to keep to himself. "...I really can't imagine getting it up after a whole 12 hour day of fighting... don't think I could ever do that..."

Your smile reappeared. "That's because you actually do your job and you do it well. Harvey just kind've stands there and pretends to be helping. No person in their right mind would be able to get it up after a real day of battle."

"Wow, so you're finally in the phase of admitting that he's bad at what he does." Steve noted.

"Yeah, well, I'm infuriated that we work ourselves to the point of exhaustion and he's just walking around with the audacity to have a hard dick all the time." You noted. "He deserves a life of erectile disfunction, I deserve the audacity of a post mission stiffy."

"See, this is the kind of fire I've been trying to ignite in you this whole time!" Steve enthused. "Who knew that all it would take was a metaphorical boner?"

"Relax, I'm not hard enough yet to hop over the the Avengers." Your voice was getting raspier and quieter by the second, making Steve melt into a puddle. "Give me a little more time, maybe I'll get there eventually."

"Have you tried viagra?" Steve joked.

"Have you?"

"Is your back feeling any better?"

"Why are you deflecting?" You sleepily smiled.

"Sweet dreams, Bug." He covered your eyes with the palm of his hand. "Hope you feel so much better when you wake up."

You grabbed his wrist and directed his hand to the top of your head before letting it go, and snuggling up in the blankets the very best you could. "Thanks for coming to my rescue, Stevie. I love and appreciate you lots."

"Anytime, I love you more."

You dozed off not to long after, and fell into a sleep so deep that you felt like you had woken up in a whole different world. Your phone was ringing, and there was no longer any light seeping through your bedroom window curtains.

Judging by your door being cracked open with lights pouring through and footsteps walking around, you could tell Steve was still in your apartment. Reaching around blindly for your phone, your hand found it and answered the call.

A smile stretched across Steve's face when he heard your sweet, sleepy voice coming from your room. He could tell you were talking to family, so he waited a while until he could hear the conversation wrapping up to come check on you.

It took about fifteen minutes, but he finally came in and turned the light on as he heard some goodbyes.

"I love you so much, Buddy! I'll come see you this week okay? Maybe in a day or two." Your smile was uncontrollable. "No, I cannot bring iron man with me. Am I not cool enough for you anymore?"

Steve raised an eyebrow at you when you looked up at him with a giggle. You motioned for him to stay quiet, then put it on speaker phone.

A tiny little voice came through, and Steve immediately remembered all of the times you told him about your five year old nephew that lived with your sister not too far from the compound.

“What about Captain America?" He questioned.

"I don't know Captain America!" You denied, looking Steve dead in the eye. You laughed as Steve's jaw dropped in response to your antics.

"Yes you do! Mommy showed me a picture of you and Captain America!" He giggled.

"No, that's not Captain America, that's my friend Steve." You joked.

"That's Captain America's name!" Your nephew defended himself.

"No way, really? That must be a coincidence."

"What is your friend Steve's last name?" He questioned.

"I'm not really sure, I'll have to ask him next time I see him." Steve shook his head at you with a mischievous smile while sitting on the edge of your bed. "What is Captain America's last name?"

"Rogers! How do you not know that!?" The boy laughed over the phone. "Don't you work with these people?!"

"I dunno, maybe you should be an Avenger. You know a lot more about this stuff than I do."

"Okay I'm ending this conversation before my son tries to break into the compound and steal Captain Roger's shield." Your sister took the phone away from the five year old.

"Did you hear that Steve? If your shield goes missing, we have a suspect." You told him.

"Oh god... is Captain Rogers in the room with you right now?" Your sister questioned with a sigh.

"No, she's talking to herself. She's kind've crazy." Steve denied earning a laugh from the other side of the phone.

"Tell me about it! I've had to deal with her all my life!" She laughed. "I'll let you go now, Smalls. I'm glad you're okay, let me know if you need anything. Also feel free to come over whenever you want. You know Luca loves you more than anyone in the world, we would take good care of you if you need it."

"Thank you! And thanks for checking up on me, sorry you got that alert, that must've been scary."

"It's okay, I'm just glad you're alright. Stay safe, I'll see you soon."

"See you soon" you agreed before hanging up.

"You're gaslighting a child?" Steve questioned.

"He knows it's a joke." You denied with a tired giggle. "Luca is obsessed with the Avengers but especially you. If I ever actually admitted to him that were close friends he would lose his mind and never leave us alone."

"But he's so cute! You should bring him to the compound and give him a tour!" He enthused.

"I think he would actually combust." You sat up. "Maybe one day, but my Sister doesn't think he's ready for that yet."

"What's her name?"

"Jane, she's four years older than me." You explained. "She called me in a panic because she's my emergency contact. I think Commander Bennett added an injury report to my file so it sent her an automated phone call that I got hurt in battle. It scared the daylight out of her."

"I don't blame her." Steve shook his head. "Thats one of the worst phone calls to ever receive."

"It really is" you agreed. "What time is it?"

"7:30 pm." He grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better. It just feels like a really bad sunburn now." You explained. "I still feel pretty beat up from the mission though."

Steve nodded his head in understanding. "I got an email from Bennett, you were cleared from the roster for the rest of the week. So you'll start work again on Monday. Oh, also, someone from the hazard team came and picked up your suit to clean it. They reported back to be about an hour ago that it wasn't salvageable so weaponry is making you a new one. Should be done by the time you get back to work on Monday."

"Thank you, Stevie, you're the best." You smiled.

"Ugh, I know right?" He joked, back flopping right next to you.

"I take it back." You laughed, gently flicking his head.

"Fine. Next time, call Bucky." Steve joked.

Your laugh got louder and you shook your head. "Bucky would've left me on the Jet floor to beat the shit out of Harvey."

"Exactly my point." Steve settled with amusement.

"Speaking of Bucky, do we know where he is right now?"

"Probably beating the shit out of Harvey"

"You boys are exhausting." You sign smiled.

"But you love it." Steve pointed out, poking your cheek.

"I do." You admitted.

Comfortable silence fell over the two of you, nothing significant was running through your mind, but you could tell Steve's mind was running around one thought and one thought only.

"... You're hungry aren't you?" You questioned rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

"How could you tell?" He turned his head to look at you with a big beaming smile on his face.

"I know you like the back of my hand, Rogers."

He hummed in agreement. "You're hungry too."

"How could you tell?"

"Because your stomach was growling in your slee- I mean... because I know you so well!"

"Food?"

"Food." He agreed.

"Alright, let's go big guy." You pat his shoulder twice. "You saw me naked today so now I get to wine and dine you."

"Bug!" He barked out a laugh, and his cheeks immediately turned a pretty shake of pink. "Don't you even start with me!"

“Oh, and by the way, if you tell anyone you’ve ever seen me naked, I’ll beat you to a pulp faster than any other agent in the compound gets the chance to call me a whore.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Next part: Expendable

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @ynstark @dbnightingale24

249 notes · View notes