#HECK barely in California too

[littletrashpile]

To the person that marries me some day, can we move from my small town that adore somewhere where it’s a little colder

[melancholicmelanin]

Compress/Repress | Chapter 2: Sister, Sister

Pairing: art donaldson x black!oc x patrick zweig, tashi duncan x black!oc (platonic)

Summary: As the summer of 06' winds down, Maya is anxiously prepping for a secret adventure: flying to New York to watch her half-sister Tashi compete at the Junior US Open. The only problem? She’s doing it behind her grandparents’ backs.

Word Count: 5k

Warning(s): minor challengers spoilers (if any?), mild cursing, a non american writing americans, self edited and no beta.

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BEL-AIR, CALIFORNIA – August 30, 2006

“Look, you’ve already got the plane tickets, right? And you’ve figured out how to get to LAX. You’re halfway there!” Tashi exclaimed. Her tone was light-hearted, like the gravity of the situation was no big deal, as if sneaking across the country wasn’t an act that could land Winston Pratt in the hospital.

It had been a year since they’d made their first connection—one impulsive friend request that had led to a secret sisterhood neither of them had anticipated. An outsider looking in would deduce them as a close-knit pair of sisters. Heck, maybe long-time best friends even. Now, they spoke almost every day—through texts, phone calls and sometimes in person, always careful to keep their connection hidden from their respective families.

Maya let out a low, breathy laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. Like she was failing at convincing Tashi to change her mind and ditch the plan altogether. Her heart raced as she listened to Tashi’s voice echo through the receiver. Maya’s heart raced as she took in her sister’s words, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling beneath her tummy.

“I know, I know.” Maya said as she paced between the four pastel walls of her room, her Paul Frank slippers gliding against the plush white rug.

“I can’t stop thinking about the worst-case scenario. Like what if I get human trafficked at the airport and the kidnappers want ransom. They’d freak!” She exclaimed, dramatically tossing her arms in the air.

“Oh my god, M!” Tashi blurted out, sounding both exasperated and amused at her sister’s active imagination. When her guard was down, Maya Pratt-Duncan’s true form always showed, she was an anxious nervous reck at the end of the day.

Maya shut her eyes and clutched her phone out of embarrassment as she heard Tashi's befuddled voice coming through on the other end. Despite being miles apart, she could almost see the jokes forming in Tashi’s mind.

“You watch too many movies,” Tashi quipped, trying to ease Maya's worries.

“They’re not going to find out,” She explained further, firm and unbothered, the usual confidence Maya admired in her spilling into every word. “You’ve got everything under control. This is our moment. And I want you there when I win.”

Maya made her way towards her bed, her suitcase laid bare on top as she prepared for tomorrow's flight. She carefully checked and rechecked all her belongings, her nerves still prickling despite Tashi's reassurance.

The thought of seeing her half-sister for the first time in action—on the court, in her element—made her heart flutter. But the idea of lying to her grandparents, Tabitha and Winston, weighed on her heavily. They had raised her, protected her, and shielded her from so much of the world. And now, here she was, planning to deceive them.

Maya's voice was soft and hushed, a small smile playing at the edge of her lips as she spoke. "I know you're going to win," she said, her words filled with admiration and confidence. "But...I've never done anything like this before, you know."

Tashi's laughter came through the other end of the phone, light and teasing. "Oh, come on, Maya. You're going to be just fine."

Maya couldn't help but bite her lip, a habit her grandmother couldn’t stand. "It's one thing meeting up at South Coast Plaza, but flying all the way to New York? That's a whole new level."

"Hey, trust me," Tashi reassured her. "You've got this."

“And besides, it's not like I've been completely innocent this whole time.” Tashi leaned against the kitchen counter, her fingers fiddling with the telephone cord as she recounted one of their rebellious antics. “Remember that college party we went to? My dad definitely doesn't know about that!" Maya’s laughter echoed throughout her room as she reminisced about ditching the party in exchange for the local 7 Eleven at 2AM. Till this day she couldn't believe they had gotten away with it, but then again, Tabitha was under the impression that she was at UCLA college scouting.

A warm, genuine smile crept onto Maya's face as she listened to Tashi speak, feeling a sense of comfort and ease wash over her. Tashi had always been one to remain unfazed by anything--whether it be societal rules or the constant pressure of her successful tennis career. It was a trait that Maya both admired and secretly envied, wishing she could exude the same level of nonchalance in her own life.

“I just don’t want to mess this up,” Maya admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, her words carrying a hint of vulnerability and uncertainty.

“You won’t,” Tashi reassured her, her tone softening. “Look, you’ve covered your tracks. You told your grandparents you’re staying with that friend of yours, right? The one with the gap in her teeth?”

Maya nodded, despite Tashi not being present to see her affirmation.

“Yeah, I told them I’m going to Reneé’s for the weekend,” She confirmed, biting her lip. “I mean, they’re really good friends with her family, but I still feel guilty.”

"Maya, listen to me. You have nothing to worry about. You're not doing anything wrong," Tashi insisted, her voice filled with conviction and confidence. “You’re just… bending the rules a little. It’s not like we’re committing a crime,” Tashi said, her voice filled with the kind of certainty Maya wished she could muster herself.

Maya paused, her mind swirling with Tashi's words. At the end of the day, she knew she had to do this. Her entire life had been spent following the strict rules and expectations set by her grandparents. They lived in a world of high society and legacy, where image was everything. But Tashi's world was different. Spending time with her free-spirited sister had taught Maya to break out of her shell and live in the moment. She longed to let go of Tabitha's expectations and just be herself. This trip was for her, and it would be the last time her grandmother's disapproval stood in the way of her desires. As she gazed at the open window ahead of her, she could feel a sense of freedom and adventure calling to her, beckoning her to embrace this new chapter in her life.

“Okay,” Maya said, taking a deep breath. “I’m doing it.”

"Hell yeah, you are!" Tashi's voice echoed through the phone, filled with pride and determination. Maya could practically picture her sister fist-pumping into the air. "Plane tickets aren't cheap, babe. But trust me, M. You're going to love New York City. It's vibrant, pulsing with energy." Tashi's words sparked a feeling of anticipation in Maya's chest. "And just wait till you see me on that court at the Open—I'm going to dominate."

"Now get some sleep and prepare for the most unforgettable weekend of your life," Tashi exclaimed with a wide grin.

They exchanged goodbyes, and after ending the call, Maya stared at her phone, still buzzing from the energetic conversation. She walked over to her window, gazing out at the dazzling skyline of Los Angeles as it shimmered under the night sky. The city lights twinkled like stars as a plane sawed the sky, beckoning her to join in on the fun. Her reflection in the glass appeared small and hesitant. Could she really go through with this? She had never been one to break rules or rebel – every decision she had ever made was with her grandparents' blessings. But this... this felt like stepping into a whole new world. A world where she could let loose and be free, even if just for a few days.

It’s just one weekend, she told herself. Just a couple of days. I can do this.

The Next Day

Now, most people would think the hard part was packing, right? How in the world do you fit a week's worth of clothes into a carry-on suitcase for a weekend trip? Well, lucky for Maya, that kind of job needed experience, and she’d been practicing for years. She had honed the art of over-preparing for every kind of situation—always with the perfect mix of practical essentials and stylish options, who cares if it ends up with you lugging around two suitcases in the middle of LAX. But packing was the easy part; it was everything that came after that was trickier.

The hard part was actually figuring out how to get out of the house without waking any suspicions. Maya knew her grandparents’ routine like the back of her hand; it helped that it hadn’t changed in years. Tabitha woke up every morning at 6:30 A.M. on the dot for her morning jog with "the girls"—her circle of wealthy friends who gossip as much as they power walk. Winston would follow shortly after, making his way down to the breakfast table with the morning newspaper already tucked under his arm. Ettie, the housekeeper, would be brewing a pot of Italian coffee for him. The whole ritual was so ingrained in the fabric of their household that Maya could practically set her watch by it.

Her grandmother always had a way of figuring out when Maya was up to something, so timing was crucial. If she was going to slip out unnoticed, she’d have to be long gone before Tabitha finished her jog. She calculated that the best window of opportunity was during those precious few minutes when Winston would be alone in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and absorbed in the day’s headlines. She’d leave a meticulously written note on the entryway table, some excuse about the early bird catching the worm and hope that would be enough to buy her a few extra hours.

Her heart racing, Maya reached the top of the grand staircase and paused. The entranceway below seemed impossibly vast; the polished marble floor gleaming under the faint light of dawn that streamed in through the stained-glass windows. A family portrait, prominently displayed by the foyer, seemed to gaze down at her—a beautiful oil painting of her grandparents, herself, and her late mother. Her mother’s soft eyes seemed to follow her every move as she cautiously descended the stairs, almost as if silently questioning her decision—Are you sure about this?

Maya tiptoed down the staircase, gripping the banister as if it might help her tread more lightly. The large grandfather clock in the hallway ticked steadily, the only sound breaking the quiet of the early morning. Her pulse quickened with every step, the echo of her shoes on the marble floor sounding far too loud in the stillness. She couldn’t risk alerting Ettie, who was always the first to rise before her grandparents. If Ettie caught her, there would be questions, and then she’d have to explain why she was up so early, where she was going, and why she had two packed suitcases for a sleepover with a family friend.

Her suitcase’s wheels glided silently over the marble floor as she made her way to the front door, keeping her movements slow and deliberate. She caught a glimpse of the kitchen down the hallway—Winston was already there, sitting at the breakfast table, absorbed in his newspaper. Her note, propped up against the sugar bowl, looked small and insignificant, and for a fleeting moment, Maya wondered if she should just go in and tell him the truth. But she quickly brushed that thought aside. There was no way they’d ever let her go if they knew where she was really heading.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle on the front door and slipped outside, closing it softly behind her.

A sharp gust of cool air struck Maya's face as soon as she stepped outside her front door, sending a shiver down her spine. The crispness of the early morning air seemed to whisper warnings in her ears, urging her to turn back while she still could. But Maya pushed the thoughts away with determination. She had made up her mind, and she wasn't going to let any doubts stop her.

In the pale light of dawn, Maya spotted Reneé's car sitting at the curb, its headlights cutting through the dimness like beacons. Reneé stood next to the driver's side door, wrapped in a thick jacket, her bonnet still on her head and rubbing her sleepy eyes. As soon as she saw Maya approaching, she perked up slightly, though her expression remained a mix of curiosity and concern.

Maya had always known she could count on Reneé, her best friend since childhood. They met in the most ridiculously “private school” way possible: at their elite academy’s spring fair. It was 1995, and six-year-old Maya was twirling around in a frilly lavender dress, sparkly shoes, and butterfly clips in her hair like a mini-Mariah Carey. Meanwhile, Reneé—awkward, with wild curls and a shiny new camcorder her parents bought to shut her up—was filming a “serious” documentary titled “Life Sucks When You’re Six".

The collision was inevitable. Reneé backed right into Maya, sending both of them sprawling. But instead of tears, Maya jumped up, adjusted her dress, and grinned. “Hey, can I be in your movie?” she asked, with all the confidence of a little girl who had just discovered Clueless. Reneé, who was usually more comfortable behind the camera than in front of people, couldn’t help but smile. From that moment on, they were inseparable—like two halves of a Spice Girls cassette tape.

Growing up in the same exclusive Los Angeles neighborhood, they were an unlikely pair, more like Cher Horowitz and Daria Morgendorffer at group sleepovers than your typical best friends. Maya was the girly girl: always perfectly put together, with glittery lip gloss and an impressive collection of Lisa Frank stationery. Reneé, on the other hand, had a style best described as “indie film director in training”—baggy overalls, thrifted T-shirts, and always a journal in hand to jot down her latest “brilliant” ideas. While Maya attended etiquette and ballet classes, Reneé was busy trying to figure out how to direct the next Godzilla movie.

Despite their differences, they shared everything: secrets, dreams, and even some epic middle school crushes. In Maya’s perfectly pink bedroom—walls covered in a fancy wallpaper imported from France and posters of NSYNC and fashion magazine cutouts neatly pinned on a cork board—they would lie on the floor and talk about how one day they’d move to New York City, where Maya would become the next It Girl and Reneé would direct films about “the real meaning of life” (whatever that meant at age twelve). In Reneé’s room, which was more of a creative chaos zone, they would brainstorm ideas for homemade movies, often starring Maya as a glamorous protagonist and Reneé providing the scene of what they thought a woman in her 20s would find themselves in

Their bond was unbreakable, forged through years of navigating the ups and downs of adolescence in a world where everyone seemed to have at least three vacation homes. They laughed at dumb celebrity gossip from TRL, whispered about grand plans that sounded straight out of Lizzie McGuire, and found ways to dodge the relentless expectations placed upon them by their parents. With Reneé by her side, Maya didn’t have to worry about being perfect; she could just be herself—even if “herself” meant spending a Friday night reenacting scenes from Titanic while Reneé filmed it as "performance art."

Even in the early morning light, Reneé’s voice was dripping with suspicion. "I can't believe you're actually up this early," she grumbled, rubbing her eyes and leaning against the car door. "This better be worth dragging me out of bed before sunrise. Did you finally get tired of the whole 'good girl' act and decide to run off with some older guy?"

Maya tossed her suitcase into the backseat, the car grumbling to life as she tried to sound casual. "What? No," she said, though her voice came out a little too defensive. "It’s just a quick trip. I’ll be back by Monday." But she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her chest at the thought of how close she was to getting caught.

Reneé raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing like a gossip columnist sniffing out a juicy scandal. "Right. 'Quick trip' is exactly what I’d say if I were meeting some mysterious silver fox." Her tone was teasing, but there was an unmistakable glint of curiosity in her eyes.

Maya forced out a laugh, shaking her head as she slid into the passenger seat. "Please. If I were running away to meet some older guy, I’d at least wait until I was done with high school. And I’d have a way better cover story."

Reneé leaned over the steering wheel, still eyeing Maya like she was trying to solve a mystery. "Uh-huh. But I’ve known you long enough to tell when something’s up, and you’re not exactly packing like someone who's just 'going to visit a friend.' Spill it, Maya. What’s really going on? Did you get seduced by some rich guy who swept you off your feet at one of those boring charity events? Because honestly, that sounds kind of romantic. Also, kind of reckless, but still romantic."

Maya fumbled with the seatbelt, her pulse quickening. She couldn’t exactly tell Reneé that she was sneaking away to New York to meet the half-sister she’d only found out about a year ago. That kind of revelation was way too fragile, too precious to expose to anyone else’s opinions—not even Reneé’s. "I’m fine," she said, a little too quickly. "I just… needed to get out of here for a few days before the semester starts. You know, clear my head or whatever."

Reneé rolled her eyes but started the car, steering them down the empty streets. "Okay, sure. But if I find out you ran off with some guy who’s old enough to have his own yacht, I’ll say I told you so."

The car cruised through the dimly lit streets; the city still wrapped in the quiet of early morning. Reneé reached over and switched on the radio, landing on a station playing an old Britney Spears song. "Oh my God, remember when we did that dance routine to this?" she exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face. "Come on, Maya, don’t leave me hanging. Sing it like you mean it!"

Maya’s laughter bubbled up despite the tension she was carrying, and she joined in. As they belted out the chorus together, it was easy to forget, just for a moment, where she was headed and the secrets she was keeping. For those few minutes, it felt like they were back in middle school again, planning sleepovers and giggling about silly crushes. But as the song faded, reality crept back in, and Maya’s thoughts returned to the trip ahead.

The car rumbled to a stop at the departure terminal, and Maya took a deep breath, bracing herself for the whirlwind of the airport. The early morning light was just beginning to stretch across the sky, casting a hazy glow over the glass facade. Despite the hour, LAX was already alive with travellers dragging suitcases, taxi drivers haggling for fares, and the occasional lost soul wandering around with a coffee in hand.

Maya climbed out of the car, her steps slower than usual as she retrieved her suitcase from the trunk. Reneé stretched her arms over her head and let out a long yawn. "Alright, runaway princess," she said, still eyeing Maya like she was waiting for a confession. "Go have your mysterious rendezvous. But I swear, if you come back wearing a diamond bracelet, I’m going to need the whole story."

"Will do," Maya said, forcing a smile. But her chest felt tight. She wanted to tell Reneé the truth—about her real reason for the trip, about Tashi—but the words just wouldn’t come.

Reneé pulled her in for a quick hug. "Whatever it is you're doing, just be careful, okay? I’m all for spontaneous adventures, but try not to come back married to a guy who quotes The Great Gatsby unironically."

"I promise," Maya said, laughing nervously. "No secret weddings."

Reneé grinned as she climbed back into the car. "Good. See you when you get back, okay? And text me if you need a rescue."

Maya gave her a final wave as Reneé’s car rolled away, the taillights fading into the flow of early morning traffic. For a moment, she stood at the curb, feeling strangely exposed against the backdrop of the sprawling airport. She adjusted the strap of her bag and took a deep breath. She was really doing this.

The automatic doors slid open with a faint hiss, and Maya stepped inside, letting the chaos of the airport wash over her. There was a comforting anonymity here—a sense that she was just another traveller with somewhere to be, just another face in the crowd. She weaved her way through the bustling terminal, her suitcase bumping along behind her as she headed for the self-check-in kiosks.

As she tapped at the screen, printing her boarding pass, Maya’s thoughts wandered back to Reneé’s teasing. It would’ve been easier to lie and say she was sneaking off to meet some rich older guy. At least then, Reneé would have had something fun to speculate about. Instead, Maya was about to board a plane to meet a half-sister she hadn’t even known existed until a year ago, and not even her best friend knew the real story.

With her boarding pass in hand, she made her way toward the security line, her pulse quickening. She was about to cross an invisible line—leaving behind everything she’d known to find answers she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But there was no turning back now.

Maya found a seat by the window at the gate and pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages. There was a new one from Tashi, sent just a few minutes ago.

Tashi: Just got to the courts. Can’t wait for you to get here! It’s going to be amazing; I promise.

Maya smiled, a mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling inside her. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to finally meet Tashi face-to-face, to see the sister she’d only known through late-night phone calls and Facebook photos. It felt surreal, like stepping into a story that wasn’t entirely her own.

As her flight was called, Maya stood and gathered her things, ready to step into the unknown. Whatever lay ahead, at least it was her secret to keep, for now.

NEW ROCHELLE, NEW YORK - August 4th, 2019

The sun blazed relentlessly upon the crowd, its heat shimmering off the concrete in waves that distorted the air. Maya squinted behind her oversized sunglasses, their dark lenses doing little to shield her from the sun’s intensity. Her skin prickled from the overexposure of Vitamin D, making it difficult to focus on anything besides the sweltering discomfort that clung to her like a second skin. As she sat in the stands, the familiar scent of sunscreen and freshly cut grass filled her nostrils, triggering memories of summers long past—carefree days spent at her grandparents' estate in Bel-Air Crest, where her only concern was perfecting her bronzed tan.

The hum of the crowd rose and fell around her, but it felt distant, like background noise from an abandoned television. Maya’s gaze drifted across the humble country club, taking in the swirl of colors from spectators’ sun hats and vibrant outfits, and the flashes of bright white tennis gear as players gathered to bear witness to what they suspected to be the match of a century. She was scanning the rows of seats absentmindedly when a tall, slender figure caught her attention. The person was descending the steps slowly, almost as if they were reluctant to be here at all.

As the figure came closer, the cascade of mid-length blonde hair, the effortless grace, and the striking features became unmistakable. Even from a distance, Maya could tell it was Tashi. Her sister’s presence filled her with a complicated rush of emotions—part nostalgia, part unease. They locked eyes just as Tashi reached her row. Time seemed to slow, and an unspoken tension hung between them, as heavy as the humid air. Despite the match unfolding on the court before them, Maya couldn’t tear her gaze away. She watched as Tashi took her seat just a few feet away, their proximity at once too close and yet, not close enough.

'Get a grip Maya, you knew she would be here.'

Maya’s fingers clenched tightly around the edge of her seat, her knuckles turning a ghostly shade of her usual caramel complexion as the internal struggle roiled within her. Her eyes darted anxiously to the tennis court, where the looming presence of the upcoming match filled her with a sense of dread. The players’ shadows stretched long in the late afternoon sun, mirroring the tension and anticipation coursing through Maya’s body. It was as if the scene was mocking her—a snapshot of normalcy while her mind was anything but calm. The roar of the crowd spiked in excitement as the players began their warm-ups, the rhythmic thud of tennis balls echoing like a ticking clock. Maya shifted in her seat, trying to shake off the prickly sensation that crept up her spine.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tashi’s gaze turn toward her. Tashi—the sister who had once known her better than anyone else in the world, who could finish her sentences, who could always sense what she was thinking. Now, it felt like they were two strangers who had to pretend they hadn’t once shared everything. Maya’s breath hitched slightly as she felt Tashi’s eyes on her, the weight of that familiar gaze bringing a sudden rush of memories she had buried beneath layers of silence and time.

Tashi's features, once so easy to read, seemed guarded now. Her cool expression betrayed nothing, but Maya knew her sister too well to be fooled. The slight tension in her jaw, the faint crease on her forehead—it was all there, hiding beneath the calm façade. A year ago, they would have hugged, laughed, shared inside jokes to ease the tension. Now, they were separated by more than just a few feet; a chasm of unspoken words and unresolved issues lay between them.

Tashi's gaze landed on Maya, her once-closest confidante, now a stranger sitting just a few feet away. It unnerved her, how different Maya seemed, even in small ways—the slight slump in her shoulders, the tightness in her jaw. There was something brittle about her that hadn’t been there before, a fragility hiding behind the composed exterior. Maya's forced smile, offered to a couple of teenage girls who recognized her from a fashion magazine, barely reached her eyes. It was the kind of smile people practiced in the mirror, perfected for the sake of appearances.

As Tashi’s gaze drifted back to the court, she felt a pang of something close to regret. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She had imagined a different future, one where they could lean on each other no matter what happened. But life had taken a different course, and the choices they’d made—some willingly, others out of desperation—had driven a wedge between them that seemed impossible to remove.

The match hadn’t even started, but Maya could already feel the tension tightening around her like a coiled spring, ready to snap at the slightest touch. She stole a glance at Tashi, who was staring ahead, her jaw clenched as though determined not to show any sign of weakness. There had always been that fierce pride about Tashi, a need to present a strong front no matter how turbulent things were beneath the surface. It was one of the things Maya had admired about her growing up, but now it felt like a wall keeping her out.

"Nice to see you made it," Tashi said finally, her voice low and edged with irony, as though she wasn’t entirely sure whether she meant it or not.

Maya's lips parted, but for a moment, no words came. When she finally spoke, her voice was measured, carefully controlled. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world."

Tashi’s mouth curved into a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Right," she said, turning her attention back to the players who were now preparing for the first serve. "Because we’ve always been so good at being there for each other."

The words stung, though Maya wasn’t entirely sure whether Tashi intended them to. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and pressed her lips together to keep the sharp retort from escaping. Instead, she chose to stay silent, gripping the arms of her chair until she could feel the bite of the metal against her palms.

The crowd erupted in applause as the first serve cut through the air, the players diving into the game with all the precision and grace expected at this level of competition. But for Maya, the real match was happening here, in the silent exchanges and unsaid words between her and Tashi. Every ball that flew across the net seemed to carry the weight of their unresolved history, every cheer from the crowd a reminder of how long they had been pretending that everything was fine.

The tension hung between them like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. It wasn’t just a tennis match to Maya and Tashi—it was a collision of everything unresolved, a confrontation without words. The years of sisterhood, of shared secrets and broken promises, all seemed to blur together, fusing the past and present into one inescapable truth: no matter how far they drifted, they could never really escape each other.

And as the players battled it out on the court below, Maya couldn’t help but feel as if she and Tashi were the real competitors, locked in a game where neither of them knew the rules anymore.

[loveundrwrld]

m yan business owner (owns a rage room) x f customer reader

f reader is a hyper independent eldest daughter who pays for the most expensive package m yan offers.

m yan is scared but also intrigued as f reader destroys the heck out of the room and caves in the selected weapon of choice (metallic base ball bat) while california here we go by the garden blares through the speakers

i have this scene in my mind where f reader looks at m yan through the security camera situated in one of the upper corners of the room, bat pointed at the camera, “turn that song up now” and proceeds to smash everything as the music plays loudly that it leaks into the other hired out rooms (idk how rage rooms work i want to go to one).

yes i am living vicariously through this request

ok ty

i love this request! ur valid, it's totally okay to be self-indulgent here.

i really like how detailed your request is- i did look up some stuff about rage rooms, which was interesting!

i'd never heard of them before. they do sound like they can be a little dangerous though, anon, so if you go to one in real life be careful- smashing electronics for instance is not recommended irl, there's a lot of stuff in computers and such that are not meant to be airborne. not trying to rain on your parade though, ofc, just do make sure to proceed with caution 👍

_____

burnt out female reader x rage room owner male yandere

(cw: dysfunctional family dynamic)

you were fed up with everything. exhausted, burnt out to the core. on the palms of your hands there were crescent marks from clenching your fist tightly all day, and your lip felt raw from biting them.

all day you had to do everything- go to your job, listen to your stupid boss's inane requests, drive your younger siblings to soccer or school, and run errands for your aging parents. and what thanks did you get? only a small acknowledgment if any. you were your parent's most "responsible" child, the eldest, so it was expected of you.

you got a job at an early age, and moved out when you were very young. you were hoping that being successful would make you feel better and would make you help you feel better about yourself. make your life feel more full. you tried your best to do everything by yourself, hoping that would make you look like a better daughter in your parents' eyes. and yet, you felt painfully empty. and you knew exactly why.

it was all criticism for you. no praise. even though you were great at your job and highly accomplished, it didn't matter. to your parents, all that mattered was that you could have done better. even though you were no longer living in their house, you could still feel the stress of their eyes on you weighing you down.

you decided that it was about time you have a little stress relief. punching your pillow could only get you so far. and by coincidence, you found an ad for something local that fit your interests- a "rage room." you could get all your anger out easily, and let your real self out. you could forget the mask of the "perfect daughter," if only for a little bit.

you thought for a second and realized that you couldn’t remember the last time you took a day off just for the sake of it. you could just take one vacation day for fun, and then you’d go back to work the next day feeling much better.

and, besides that, you were so busy being a careful, diligent daughter that you barely spent any money on yourself. you had plenty of money stored up, so why not use it?

you decided to just take a chance and do it. you dipped into your ample savings and reserved a room for yourself, and picked the most expensive option- a room reserved just for you, with someone coming in and giving you even more stuff to destroy so you can spend hours smashing as much stuff as you desire. it was the perfect idea.

when you got to the location, you were surprised at how small the place was. it looked a lot bigger on the website... and a lot cleaner, too.

the person that greeted you was a nervous, mousy-eyed teenager. he was wearing coveralls with a little name tag saying “max.” max spoke to you with a small, nervous voice, constantly darting his eyes.

"so, where's the owner? is it you?" you said with a smile, joking, but max only gave you a pained look in response. a sore subject, you guessed. it seemed you weren't the only person here with a terrible boss.

he silently passed you some forms to fill out, which you skim through and sign. it's just a standard liability form, you figured.

once he led you into your room, he handed you a face shield and some heavy-duty gloves, as well as some coveralls to put over what you were wearing. you put them on while he talked about the safety precautions.

you just nodded, your brain turned off. sure, you didn't catch all he said, but it couldn't be that important, right?

"... so, ma’am, make sure you don't get too distracted, or else you could get hurt, okay?" he said, giving you a nervous smile.

"hm. sure. okay. now, max, is there any way i can play some music here?"

---

"stupid parents, stupid fucking job, stupid fucking responsibilities-"

you yelled, smashing into the third television set with wild abandon with your bat. your favorite song was playing on the speakers too, so loudly you could nearly feel the bass through your feet.

this was a great choice! you were already feeling much better. your throat was a bit raw from yelling over the music that was playing over the speakers, and your arms were feeling the burn of swinging over and over again.

your body was pulsing with energy, and you felt absolutely unstoppable. what a great little vacation! who knew being consumed with rage could feel so good!

---

at that moment, unbeknownst to you, someone was watching you from the security room. rhys, the owner of the place, was settled in his security control room, watching around the feeds idly to make sure that everyone was following the rules as expected.

he was half paying attention while he was scrolling on his phone, bored out of his mind, when one feed happened to catch his attention. it was you.

when you first came in, he thought you looked like a typical prim, proper, well-mannered girl. dressed nicely with a tidy appearance, you paid him in advance for a specialty reservation. he thought you were a typical rich girl having fun with her parent's money. nothing too special.

but now, to his surprise… you were smashing everything in sight like there was no tomorrow. you were becoming almost manic in your efforts, forgetting even that someone was in the room with you. glass and metal shards were flying everywhere, and your metal bat was becoming dented as you kept using it with all your might.

a shiver went down him. part of it was fear, of course. he wouldn't want to get on your bad side. but, another part of him was feeling something else as he watched your sweet little face become almost demented as you swung your bat over and over again.

right now, he was beginning to be grateful that he put down cell phone numbers on the forms he made his customers sign. maybe he could give you a little call and ask if you'd like to become a "loyal customer"... or, better yet, he could give you a job offer for a little side hustle…

the door opened, and max came in, interrupting his precious viewing session. he turned to glare at the young employee.

he was always babbling on about the customers, coming in and complaining about them being rude or scary. it was one of the annoying parts of owning your own business- you had to hire other people to help, and with a minimum wage job like this, only squirrelly little teens looking for extra money were applying for the position.

"s-sir, the lady in our specialty room isn't following proper safety precautions, and the music is already way too loud and it's bothering the other customers but she wants it even louder, but when i tried to talk to her she couldn't even hear me-"

rhys waved his hand dismissively, turning his head back around to continue watching the feed of your security camera. his large fingers tapped quickly on his desk, impatiently.

"yeah yeah, so be it. anyways, see that?" he pointed to you swinging the bat on the monitor. "it looks like her bat is almost done, it's so dented it's nearly caved in. you gotta get her a brand new one."

"... s-sir? you want me to go back in there?"

"yeah. what's the big deal? a little broken glass?" he scoffed. "i don't pay you to just sit around."

on the feed, he could see you stopping for a bit, heaving in large breaths. you turned your head, looking around. your eyes widened.

"see, kid? she needs you in there."

you stepped forward to where the security camera was, staring up at it with fiery eyes. your arm came up and pointed towards it.

for a second, he felt like the two of you had a connection. like you knew exactly who was watching you, and was pointing and staring directly at him.

then, your lips moved, mouthing words. you were saying "music... louder..."

he couldn't help but to smile, amused by your antics. you really were something, weren't you?

and now, he realized he didn't want to send max in there. he had a chance to get even closer to you, be around you physically. he didn't want him to be the one doing tasks for you, getting your attention. he wanted all your fiery passionate anger, all for himself.

the fear and excitement just thinking about it ran shivers through his spine, and a coil of heat down his stomach.

"actually, on second thought. i'll be the one to help her out, 'kay?"

[jlheon]

penggg! have you listened to bea’s new album? i did and i’m obsessed with california and one time!!

which song was your fave? plus, thoughts on the release? <333

missing your works 💗 (but take your time!!)

hai!!! these are my thoughts!!! (this is how it went & a cruel affair & everything i want) — btw this is kinda long u don’t have to read it all 😭😭

take a bite — 10/10 wbk. i am taking a bite hell yeah i am!!!! this song is so hoonki coded i will not explain further u just have to understand by being on my intellectual level.

california — 9/10 i want to go to california… the whole song is so woah icl! the bridge is insane oh my gosh I LOVE BEABADOOBEE

one time — 10/10 HECK YEAH!!! this song is literally me winning the idgaf war at all times! awesome beat n song n lyrics FUCK YOU !!!!! the outro is actually insane bea the lyrical genius you are… i love her so much

real man — 10/10 U WILL NEVER BE A REAL MAN!!!! this song is also like FUCK U!!! i think i hate men guys freak this i need a gf! again the outro is insane LAWD!!!!

tie my shoes — 9/10 i will sob n throw up this song is so woah. THE ONE PART “lied to a girl u hardly knew but the world thought of you” THE WAY SHE DELIVERS THE LINE IS SO CRAZY BEAUTIFUL I LOVE BEA SO MUCH PLZ TIE MY SHOES

girl song — 10/10 this song is a real representation of me fighting my demons every couple days when i have one of my weekly crash outs woah. i will sob n cry again this is so me unfortunately

coming home — 9/10 it was a 10/10 my first listens but i overplayed it sobs. oh but this song made me cry even just the demo version becoz it makes me think of being married n not having time for each other and that is terrifying LONG DISTANCE I WILL NEVER DO THAT PROLLY.

ever seen — 8.5/10 i like but not as much as the other songs YK. its very happy n peppy tho i hope i have a meetcute one day. TO TELL MY KIDS ABT BRU. this song is jake coded becuz hes the prettiest ever..

a cruel affair — 100/10 me song again! love this instrumental for realz. this song is too short it should be 3 minutes at minimum poo… this song barely has any lyrics too. EXTENDED VERSION PLEASEEEE

post — 8/10 for some reason i don’t understand what this song is about like i was analyzing the lyrics and i rlly don’t know but the song is awesome regardless

beaches — 10/10 Yes! i really want to go on vacation to a tropical place so i can dissociate for a while n get my shit together ngl.. THE INSTRUMENTAL BREAK IS SO GOOD BRU WTF PLEEK I LOVE BEA SM

everything i want — 1000/10 NEED THIS AT MY WEDDING /SRS. no like actually this song makes me so happy n bittersweet plz im everything you want (jake) can we plz get married ill never settle for a regular man. ok but in seriousness its so cute w the lyrics and i hope i feel this way abt someone n vise versa one day when im older! i want to be in love so bad…!!! on REPEAT.

the man who left too soon — 7/10 but only becoz i don’t resonate w any of the lyrics but the song is good it just has to grow on me i reckon…

this is how it went — 1000/10 THIS IS MY SONG. i love the beat so bad it makes me wanna cry but also sway around my room! this song is literally me i love sleeping n not talking to anyone hashtag peng core song!

[freebooter4ever]

I don't know this Nick guy and its personal so not my place and I'm sorry in advance but never go back to him. Infact don't give him any more space in your life. We don't always get what we want but settling for anything less is way worse. We never stop regretting it

ah yes the nick problem 🙃 it's not even about him, it's me. i have always known exactly who he was, he's not the settling down or monogamous type no matter how much he likes to pretend he is. there isnt any 'going back to him' because we were never together in the traditional significant other sense anyway. i might have had some delusions about saying fuck you to california and moving in with him in CT and spending my time working at history museums and drawing sailing ships, but thats obviously not happening anymore lol. all six years here in cali i never felt as happy as that one day i spent in the small east coast sea port and i dont know if it was the place or him.

I was actually just texting ethan about this stuff cause he had to get some relationship complaints off his own chest. and i do think this is a huge question for lots of people - at what point is 'love' no longer enough to keep two people together? like is it 'settling' if i am in love, even if that love isnt returned equally? men do this all the time, so much so its a goldigging trope, and older women tend to give younger women the super fun advice of 'make sure the man loves more in a relationship' (heterosexual). but like, isnt that sexism too? why cant women be the ones who pine away and try to win over the man? why is it the men always doing the chasing? like in my favorite internet couple justin and ally, ally was the one who went after justin hard, lol! why cant women have more romances like that?

but also like yeah no, nick and i are done. i may be a lot to handle in a crisis, but so is he. and i steadfastly and adoringly answered his calls almost every night to come down and take care of him when he was in physical pain during his back injury even when i was still dealing with PTSD myself and not sleeping much and working full time. and...i think in a real relationship i would like that to be fairly reciproical. none of this disappearing for weeks with nothing but his little bird icon telling me he is still watching all my insta stories. heck even the random dudes on my insta who keep insulting geno are being more supportive than nick during this. the one guy even went and asked his mom for an old digestion cure from his home country, like. thats bare minimum and those guys dont even really know me 😂

[kylo-wrecked]

@brooklynislandgirl :// { cont'd from this utter treasure good-bye i am gone }

— ☾ —

"You don't think…?" 

Now he recoils somewhat, drawing in his chin and retreating into himself momentarily like a fox ducking in its sandy den. Hands don't, though. They stay; they wait. He barely breathes.

"Why?" he asks finally. Speech pours out of him. "Why'd you come out here in the first place, Beth? You gonna..." 

He breathes or tries to. There isn't enough air in Mos Espa to fill Ben's lungs, it's got his chest in a vice, and every breath hurts something stupid. When he looks at her, Ben is striking in his resemblance to the red slash portrait he's never seen. 

"You gonna leave? Gonna tell me when you do, or am I gonna look up and see another face in your window someday?"

Sometimes he passed by her suite, vying for a glimpse of her profile or hands as she painted—that's when she wasn't at his or outdoors. Living her life, wherever that was. If he could, he'd watch her for a while before rambling on or before she noticed, although he always thought she could sense him standing there. 

When she doesn't answer, Ben digs his thumbs deeper into her hips, feeling, almost nobbing, her bones, which aren't far out of reach under Beth's butterfly skin. 

"You don't think what? Mm? You don't think I understand?" 

He always felt stupid around Beth. Big and bungling. There isn't enough air in his lungs for anger, but he shakes her a little. He shakes her the way young kids handle rag-dolls and stuffed animals, with more force than intended because they love it so much and want it to be real. 

She is real, he thinks. This is real.

Ben relaxes his hands; he breathes again. But even the voice in his head doesn't sound convinced, and there comes a swell of doubt in his heart, so searing in its pain that he gets a little lightheaded.

Beth's real, it says. Love may be, too. And she may love you, but so what? Love never stops anyone from leaving. Love offers no reprieve from loneliness, never saves anyone from death. Love puts the gun in your hand. And people don't belong to each other.

Truman Capote put it best in that sad little book he wrote, the one they made a big sappy movie out of. He can remember Holly Golightly almost by heart: 'We don't belong to each other... I don't want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together.' 

It might've been the last book he read before he dropped out of school and everything happened. At Dontamo, he leafed through manuals and old encyclopedias about things that no longer exist, like printing presses. Just facts, items that can't be interpreted or manipulated, function logically, and can be easily fixed or retrofitted when broken. He always kept a dictionary around, too, where allowed, mostly in the reading room, because the day he got out, he'd need to read like someone with at least a 6th-grade education. 

If only he knew how little it'd matter.

In Breakfast at Tiffany's, Holly Golightly doesn't go to prison for telling Sally Tomato about the *snow* blowing in from California. They don't hand Holly her outmoded camel coat and sunglasses at reception and tell her she better get back to turning tricks because no one worth their salt would ever give her a chance at a reasonable life. Holly goes to Brasil or Africa or something like that. When she gets the mean reds, she disappears. Kind of like Beth. 

For a while, Ben thought he'd follow her anywhere. All over the world, chasing her. Heck, much as he hates the concept of islands, he'd follow her back to the mythical land of Hawaii. Much as he hates cities, he'd drive to Coruscant, that frightening, glistening maw. Then somewhere along the line, he remembered there were places Beth could go, and he couldn't. 

Love has never conquered all. Yet love keeps him anchored, keeps him breathing, and his lips moving around the broken glass edges of his speech.

How he's always hated words, how they always twisted him around.

"You don't think I want you? You don't think I—" 

Perched as she is on his thighs and coiled up around his hips, Ben still towers. When she tilts her face at him, however, he shrinks like he's been stabbed again.

"—I do," he says, bringing down on Beth's green-and-honey the ore of his every unspoken hope.

[jinnielovebot]

hello im home

[devilgenics]

Neat, so with that out of the way, I'd like to request some quality time with my favorite depressed bitches: Tim, Brian and Toby.

Prompt being that the Proxies and the GenZ!Reader just spend the day off doing stuff together, no work or slender duties. Maybe have them trying out each other's hobbies for the sake of it, just having fun in general.

(for Y/N's hobbies it could something like going to the arcade to kick people out of the first place scores, pulling out a CinemaSins and (jokingly) critiquing the heck out of some wacky movies/franchises, trying out street foods, these stuff (feel free to add something too (: ))

Thank you so so much for this amazing request!! ^^ This was so fun to write, feel free to request again!! :3

Tim/Brian/Toby spending a free day with an GenZ!Reader

"Wait...no work for us today?" Brian asked the white masked man.

"Apparently there is nothing to do for us today. Slender said we can enjoy our free day." Masky came out of Slender's office without any papers. Normally he would come out and tell the others their newest mission, but today was different.

"What do we do now? Relax? Watch a movie? Go somewhere?!" Toby asked the other two. He was so excited, they barely had a completely free day without anything to do.

Brian was thinking for a moment, then he looked at Masky and nooded. "I think I have a better idea..."

You were currently laying on your bed, listening to music to pass your free time. It was one of your free days and you had absolutely nothing to do. The other pastas were busy, you knew that. You thought of going for a walk in the woods, would be better then just hanging around in your room. Just when you were about to open your door to go outside, three well known men were standing infront of your door, ready to knock.

"Hey (Y/N)! Watcha doin?" a smiling Toby asked.

"Just wanted to go for a walk, ya know, it have nothing to do today" you said while looking at them.

"Wanna spend some time with you favorite three proxies?" Toby asked.

And all of you already knew your answer.

First thing you did was driving to the nearby mall to do some mischief. With Tim driving, Brian, Toby and you had plenty of fun choosing different songs to vibe to. At some point 'California Gurls' was playing and all of you were lietrally yelling the lyrics.

At the mall, the first thing you did was getting some snacks, after a while you all were walking around with a slush and fries in your hands. Toby and you were having fun in the arcade while Tim was outside, smoking and watching suspicious people with Brian. Eventhough it's their free day, these two could never fully relax when there are some weird people walking around. After hangig around the mall for a few hours, going through some music stores and laughing about other people tripping or something like that, they decided to drive back to the mansion.

Being there again, they noticed that the others weren't there.

"Where is everybody?" Brian asked.

"Probably still on missions..." Toby said while looking around.

"Doesn't matter, we have the place for ourselves!" You said excited. It was rare to have the whole mansion for yourself. So you decided to make the best out of it. Blasting music, you four decided to make dinner. Well, you tried. After burning the meat and overcooking the noodles, you just looked sadly at your ruined dinner. Then you looked at eachother and started laughing. While Tim prepared instant noodles, you said on the couch with Toby and Brian. You four ate while watching a trashy horror movie and laughing about unrealistic scenes. You loved moments like these. You wished for them to last forever. With the movie still on, you slowly drifted to sleep.

"That's like sooo not real! " Toby said at another terrible scene.

"Shhh! (Y/N) is asleep." Brian said.

While Toby and Brian cleaned up the kitchen mess, Tim carried you to your room and put you to bed. With looking at you for one more time before closing the door, he smiled and went downstairs again to help the other two. All of them had fun today and they were sure the next time they'll have a free day, they would ask you again to spend the day together.

[noellawrites]

Coors Banquet - Yandere!Johnny Lawrence x reader

part 2 part 3

warning: contains rape, abuse, drinking/alcoholism, breeding kink and spoilers for the Cobra Kai season 2 finale

You were sitting in your apartment sorting through bills when Johnny Lawrence called. Truth be told, you had a love-hate relationship with the man. While he had offered you a job processing paperwork at Cobra Kai twice a week, he could also be a raging asshole sometimes.

“What is it, Johnny?” you sighed, leaning back onto the couch. This better be good.

“I need you to come to the dojo as soon as you can. With all the new students we’re behind on paperwork, and I gotta get their medical information on file,” he stated, ruffling some papers around to make it sound legit. He needed you here, now. It was the perfect time.

“Wha— right now, Johnny? It’s almost midnight. I work tomorrow, can’t it wait?” you groaned.

“I’m sorry, but it can’t. Look i’ll give you a fifty dollar bonus on top of your hourly pay, alright? Just get down here,” he stated, then hung up the phone.

-

As you walked to Cobra Kai’s door, the California night chill hit your skin and caused your teeth to chatter. You banged on the glass door impatiently and Johnny swung it open immediately.

The rubber bottoms of your tennis shoes slapped the mat as you made your way to the back office, barely noticing that Johnny had locked the door behind you.

“Thanks for comin’ by, (y/n). The paperwork is just in the back, on the desk—“ he called, but you had already entered the office.

You felt the blood rush to your head. There was no paperwork; only two solid black karate belts and about ten empty cans of Coors Banquet. You backed away slowly, left heel catching on your right foot. Johnny clamped a hand around your mouth as you let out a loud scream.

“Shut up, okay? Jesus, the last thing I need is my stupid landlord knockin’ at the door. Understand?” He slurred. Of course, Johnny was drunk as usual.

You nodded, still feeling Johnny’s warm hand wrapped around your mouth. A shiver ran up your back. Wait a minute… did you actually like this?

He removed his hand and grasped one belt in his hand, making quick work out of tying your hands behind your back and a belt in your mouth.

You bit down on the belt, tasting only the bitter flavor of hard fabric.

“No hard feelings. I mean, I really love you. That’s why I’m doing this, ya know? Everyone always leaves, in the end. Heck, Miguel’s in the hospital and Carmen never wants to see me again. Kreese turned against me again and not even my own son trusts me. But you? Hell, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Johnny explains as you sob, ugly little cries escaping your mouth.

“You’re just this sweet little girl who happens to live in my apartment building. Who works for me, who always agrees with me. Yes sensei this, yes sensei that,” he trilled, mocking your voice, “God, do you know how crazy that drives me?”

You were only 25, which was young compared to him but not as young as his students. You called him sensei because everyone else did, and it was a running joke since you weren’t his student. You never knew he was so obsessed, so… infatuated with you.

Johnny dragged you out onto the mat, causing you to stumble over your feet again.

“I’m sorry to have to do this. Kick your shoes off and stand here,” he said, leaving you to stand alone.

He landed a swift kick to the back of your shins. You fell to the ground, hard, and groaned in pain.

As you lay on the ground, limp and in pain, the last thing you saw was Johnny pulling up his foot in preparation to land a kick to your head.

-

The first thing you smell when you wake up is the alcohol on Johnny’s hot breath above you.

“We’re going to be so happy, you know that? Robby will finally come live with me, and so will you. And our baby cobra will show LaRusso that I can have a happy family, too.”

Each time Johnny pushes his cock into you, you are filled with more pain than the last. You never wanted this to happen.

“What— baby cobra?” you groaned in pain, blinking your eyes open.

“I’m gonna give you a baby, and we can finally be a family. I can’t wait to tell Robby, a-and Miguel when he wakes up. You’ll be the mother you were always meant to be, and I’ll be the father I never was. The father I never had,” he explains deliriously.

He cums inside you with a heavy moan, arms still positioned on either side of you. He kisses up the side of your neck as you futilely attempt to squirm away from him.

“I don’t want to be a mom yet,” you cry, “I’m still so young a-and I have a-a career ahead of me.”

“Yeah right, a dead-end job working as a receptionist for a family dental office. You couldn’t even afford rent if I didn’t pay you to come around here every week. Anyway, you don’t gotta worry about that anymore. I won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

[boldlyvoid]

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[bowiebond]

Just a little Steve and Billy thing I wrote and will probably never continue, but didn’t wanna delete so:

Billy isn’t sure how he feels about this party, really. Back home he used them as an excuse to get out of the house, to get black out and take whatever viable woman threw themselves at him. He likes a warm body at night, who could blame him?

This party — it’s fine. He’s still checking the boxes if the brunette feeling up his chest isn’t a drunken fantasy and he hasn’t passed out just yet from filling and refilling his cup to the brim half a dozen times in the last hour.

His tolerance is pretty high when being drunk is tolerable to feeling the ache along his body. He hummed as he took a drag; Tommy “Braindead” Hagan was good for one thing and it was a tobacco-weed mix from the heavens.

He might want the high but he couldn’t help craving nicotine. Awful habit, but who was going to stop him? Everyone gave into the relief of a cigarette.

Her hand is tugging provocatively on his shirt that’s been tucked into his waistband, buttons undone half way. He grins down at her around the cigarette and winds his fingers in her curls as his dick stirs at the thought of keeping her company tonight. She’s pretty, more mature in looks than half the girls at the party, but he usually likes his women a little older anyway. He’d have to make do in this hick town with so few options.

Her hand curls around the bone of his hip as he leans in, blowing smoke into her mouth as he kisses her, a filthy slide of lips and tongue that makes the boys holler.

She kisses like an amateur; all talk and teasing but no real experience. His buzz is being drained just from having to do all the work and he breaks the kiss with a laugh.

“You’re an innocent thing, huh?” He smirked and she lowers her lashes shyly, nodding. He cooed, not bothering to hide the mocking in his tone. “That’s cute.”

“Maybe you could…teach me the ropes?” She plays with the collar of his shirt and he placed the cigarette between his lips, taking a heavy drag as he released his hold on her.

“Sorry. I prefer sluts. Come back when you know what you’re doing, Virgin Mary.” He blows the smoke in her face, fast and cruel as he patted her back and sauntered off. He can hear the snickering from onlookers. He needs a fucking drink.

He plucks one from a girl and she barely gets a scoff out and an eye roll before she gives up and goes to grab a new one. He downed the cup and thumbed the remnants of lipstick from his lower lip. God, that shade of pink is just gaudy. He missed the deep red of women in California.

He needed to piss. He didn’t wanna break the seal and be pissing all night but he’s had way too much liquid and nature called.

If he remembered correctly the bathroom should be…He tripped over a cord and hopped to right himself, making sure no one saw him, before pressing his head to the door with a sigh.

“—like, like it’s great, like we’re in love and we’re— we’re partying, yeah let’s party, huh? Party, we’re partying, this— this is bullshit.”

If Billy’s honest, he does not care for a lovers spat when he needs to unleash fucking Niagara Falls into Tina’s porcelain can, so he readies his fist to knock only to hear the other party.

“Like we’re in love?” Oh. Oh it’s King Steve’s voice, pretentious fuck knuckle who won’t show Billy a fucking hint of the reputation he has. The guy who can’t learn to plant his feet against a tougher opponent is having a heart to heartbreak with his prissy girlfriend, Wheeler.

“It’s bullshit.” Oh, that stings. He almost feels bad for the guy. Not really though. He offered a chance for Steve to prove himself — they could have been friends but the guy is soft nowadays. Billy isn’t too surprised; the guy has big brown doe eyes and freckles all over his body and the prettiest lips he’s ever seen on a guy. Heck, probably on anyone. The guy looks like the personification of Bambi.

The fact that he was once considered the tough, popular womaniser seems unfathomable. He was a rich puppy with a ball and chain around his ankle now.

“You don’t love me?” Oh, and there’s the pain, the betrayal of finding out you’re completely unlovable to the one woman you love. Billy knows that pain well. His mother taught him to live in that torture the day she left without him.

“It’s bullshit.” The silence that follows is his cue to leave, to find a bush and maybe create some gossip about his dick size. He watched as Steve storms out of the bathroom and straight for the front door with a small grin. He takes a final, long drag as he makes his way through the teens towards the same door, blowing it out overhead. His boot makes contact with bricks and he flicks his bud to the ground with a quick grind under foot.

He can see Steve fiddling with his keys, trying to slot them into the damn door to unlock it and it’s amusing how long it takes him considering Billy makes it to his side by the time he’s even got it in the hole. Billy places one hand onto Steve’s shaking one, wrapped around the key. It’s cold and Steve flinches when he finally realised he’s there. Billy slowly turned his hand and the key with it, the car giving a solid click as it unlocked.

“You gonna drive home as jittery as a junkie?” He grinned, wide and charming. There’s a hint of mocking in his tone almost always and Steve’s frayed patience is volcanic.

“Can you mind your own fucking business, Hargrove? I’m not in the mood for your brand of shit.”

Billy felt a deep satisfaction at hearing him swear, at seeing those eyes grow moist with anger but never spill. He’s fighting the urge to cry after his apparent heartbreak and Billy has always been a sick son of a bitch.

“I need a ride. I’m fucking hammered. I’ll shut my trap for the first time in a blue moon if you drop me home.” It’s a lie. A bold one too. He wants to get under his skin and he can’t if Steve drives away now.

“Tina will probably let you crash if you ask.” Steve rolled his eyes and opened his door. Billy grabbed the top of the door to keep it open as Steve sat himself down and glowered up at him.

“Can’t. You really gonna let me behind the wheel drunk? What if I hit someone, hm?” He grinned as Steve stared at him a long while before groaning and rubbing a hand down his face.

“Get the hell in. Don’t puke in my car.” Billy smirked. He loved getting his way. He rounded the car and stopped a moment. His bladder still aches.

“One moment, Harrington.” He grinned as he walked over to the roses and turned his back to the large glass doors.

“What are you— why are you taking your pants off?!” Steve shrieked as he turned, narrowly avoiding a glimpse of Billy’s prize as the drunk man cackled.

The golden stream coated the roses and he could hear laughter and gasps from inside as he shook off, zipping himself back up.

“Hargrove, you nasty fuck!” Tommy laughed, clutching his chest as he keeled over at the door, Carol less than impressed. Billy gave them both the middle finger and a wide grin, tugging the passenger door open. He plopped into his seat, smiling at Steve like the little shit he was.

Steve rolled his eyes and made a noise of disgust, starting up the car and pulling out of the driveway. Billy waited a good three minutes before he opened his mouth.

“So. How come you aren’t the King anymore, Harrington?” Steve’s jaw clenched.

“People change. I didn’t want to be a douche-bag anymore. Or hang out with them either.” He side eyed Billy and Billy scoffed.

“I’m not a douche-bag. I just know what I want.” Billy smirked. “And I want to be top of the food chain, Harrington.”

“Well, you get snacked on just as much at the top, pal, these piranhas are just better at hiding their teeth. Waiting for you to spill a little blood. It’s a tightrope game.” Steve huffed and turned his eyes to Billy. “Though I have a feeling you consider yourself the bigger fish.”

“I am the bigger fish.” Billy smirked. “And I assure you, Harrington, being at the top will always be better than being prey.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 02

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m still stunned at how many of you are enjoying this story. thank you so so much for your support. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky always woke up at 5AM and waking up at 5 AM was already considered a victory for him - to sleep through the night. Once the digital clock flashed 5 AM in electric red, his eyes were wide open, the sight of constant darkness being the only thing he could see. His routine was precise, as precise as time itself and it barely changed - gym then a dark cup of coffee followed by reading whatever coffee side table book Steve would linger around.

Y/N, unlike him, didn’t have a precise routine. She enjoyed routine but her mornings were always her own time, away from everything. On her free days she would try to wake up by at least 10. After she was fully awake she would turn on the TV in her bedroom and turn on the kettle for a nice tea. She would then lay in bed, surrounded by her blankets and dressed in an oversized cardigan while some random show played.

Bucky’s mornings were always filled with people coming in and out, that was life living in the Avengers headquarters. Some mornings he thought about moving into the apartment in Brooklyn but that would just upset Steve. Heck, he didn’t even know Bucky had bought the apartment, it had been an impulse buy and he would go there every week to check on it. However, Brooklyn wasn’t as close to Y/N’s in SoHo so he guessed he would stay. Y/N’s mornings on the other hand were quiet, too quiet. It was just her, just her in a two bedroom apartment in the middle of wealthy SoHo.

      - Morning, Buck. - Steve, like always, walked into the kitchen, coffee mug saying number one dad in hand. He always had this smile that Bucky couldn’t find the words, a smile that was almost glad that he was still alive yet pitiful. The pure look of someone who’s been burdened, a mother to a child’s look, one she didn’t want. - Excited for guarding your first client?

      - Feels more like guarding property. - he mumbled over the dark coffee, chugging it all before anymore questions could be asked. 

It shouldn’t be a hard day, he thought to himself, mostly looking after her if she decided to go out for anything. He had looked into her profile, she was an easy target. Almost always wearing heels, flowey clothing, things that wouldn’t help her if someone was after her. Anyway, looked like an easy job, easier than saving the world.

Meanwhile, Y/N was laid in the middle of her covers, remote in hand as she skimmed through the channels. Looking around she noticed the loneliness she was in, the empty walls decorated with her own choosing but still empty. No sounds, too quiet. 

She rose from the bed, big socks touching the cedar wood floor as she padded up to the kitchen. The agency had had everything decorated and the fridge stocked but as she opened the door she couldn’t find a single thing she wanted to eat. Disappointed, she closed the fridge, leaning against it to look at the rest of the flat. It was quiet, too quiet, filled with the sounds of quiet if that was even a physically possible thing. She let herself slide down the fridge front, sitting on the floor as she thought about what to do. She didn’t have her script yet, or at least more than two pages of it and going outside was the least thing she wanted to do today.

Y/N was about to fall asleep on the ground against her fridge, she heard footsteps. Quickly, she got onto her feet, rushing over to the door so fast she almost slipped. Pushing the peep hole away she put herself on her tippy toes to see if one of the neighbours was home.

     - Y/N, are you staring out the peep hole? - the person whose steps belonged too was definitely better than any neighbour. Quickly, she unlocked the door, pushing the metal that held it shut to the wall and opened it to see Bucky in a much more casual attire than before. Red henley with some loose dark jeans looked better in her opinion. - If you hear someone it’s always a terrible idea to use the peep hole. Almost always let’s them know someone’s in.

     - Then what are peep holes for? - Bucky playfully rolled his eyes but not before observing what she was wearing. She looked more comfortable. - Do you wanna come in? 

     - Miss Olson said I am to wait outside your door until you want to leave the apartment.

     - What if someone broke my window and took me?

     - Trust me, Y/N. I would know and would win that fight. 

     - You sure you don’t wanna come in? I could cook you some breakfast. Whatever you like. - she had that shine in her eyes, Bucky couldn’t explain it. He just knew it didn’t felt forced but she surely was nervous judging by the pushing of her oversized cardigan’s sleeve to cover her hand. - The agency filled my fridge with so much food I don’t know what to do with it.

     - I’m not a breakfast kind of person, Y/N.

     - Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. - her small hand came to rest over his wrist, pulling at it so he would go inside. He found it amusing how someone who was much shorter than him, head barely hitting his collarbones, would try to move him. Although, surprising wasn’t the fact that he moved but the fact that she touched him, she touched the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t naive and he lacked Steve’s “all good” view of the world so he knew what people thought of him. They thought he had been of use but at the end of the day he had been the Winter Soldier for 70 years. They didn’t dare touch him but her she was inviting him into her home and touching him as if he were an old friend.

Once he got in, he immediately looked at everything. There were fake flowers everywhere in little glass jars, if they were broken and she were trying to escape she would get hurt, too many windows and not a lot of mirrored surfaces, people could look in. 

     - Would you like some pancakes? French toast? - her voice interrupted his inspection. - My mom was a cook, I can cook pretty much whatever you want. Can’t promise it will be as good as a cook’s but it’ll be edible.

     - You really don’t need to feed me, Y/N. - his gaze returned to her apartment, open doors everywhere.

     - I just thought ... since you’re going to be around a while we should be friendly with each other. - she looked down at her feet before looking up again, head slightly looking to the side. - I don’t know anyone in here, I didn’t even pick this apartment so I thought I would at least get to know you.

She felt ashamed, heat seemed to radiate from her cheeks to her whole body. Back at the theatre everyone knew each other, they all had show themed hoodies and would say hi whenever they came in and left but things in Hollywood were different. In her first movie she had made friends with only one cast member who still spoke to her but everyone else did their job and returned to their lives without a single hello. She thought that maybe knowing Bucky would make having someone constantly in her life a bit easier but she understood his position.

Bucky himself seemed to read that all on her face and as he did a thought popped into his head “they are gonna eat her alive”. 

     - Let’s try that French Toast. - she smiled at his answer, once again pulling his hand towards the kitchen. It was spacious for a SoHo flat, with cut edge technology and also a very visible knife set. He would have to tell her to put that somewhere else. 

She on the other hand quickly assembled all she needed, placing it on the marble countertop, a happy grin on her face as she started to prepare the meal. It reminded him of memories he had tried to suppress.

     - Mum’s a cook, why are you an actress? - those memories were still memories he wasn’t ready to get back and as such he reckoned speaking with her would keep it out. 

     - I don’t really know how to explain it. - she smiled, pulling a few hair strands behind her ear. - My mum took me to a musical after I didn’t get cast in the nativity play. It was Phantom of the Opera, I just remembered that chandelier rising and crashing and the energy of the performers. There was just ... that was time stopping and rushing at the same time. And the look on the performers faces as they finished a piece, god it was just, I had never seen and I don’t think I have ever seen such passion in someone’s face. 

Bucky moved his head ever so slightly, she seemed to be lost in her own memories, a daydream gaze washing over her features. He wondered what it was like to have memories to be proud of.

     - I’m sorry, I must sound like a sap. Why do you become a bodyguard?

     - I like a challenge.

     - That’s what you told me yesterday. - she placed a beautiful set plate in front of him. Beautiful things make beautiful things, that’s what his mother once told him. Maybe she was right.

     - What can I say, I’m not that interesting. 

     - I don’t know if that’s true. - she added a coffee cup to the French Toast, before pulling a chair. - You know, if I’m at home you don’t need to be outside my door, you can come in.

     - I wouldn’t want to intrude on your personal space.

     - It’s not really my personal space. The agency bought the flat and decorated it themselves so I guess it’s just the space I live in. I don’t really know the city yet so you’re mostly waiting outside for nothing. - she shrugged.

    - How long have you been in New York?

    - A little over 5 months. I was in California during my last movie and prior to that I was living in Haymarket in London. How long have you been in New York?

    - I was born in Brooklyn, about half hour away from here. Lived here my whole life ever since ... at least the part of it I could control.

Bucky waited to see that pity look, the one everyone in the team seemed to give them whenever they looked at him but she didn’t. She merely wrapped her hand around his, caring smile of someone who almost looked proud he existed or proud he was alive. They’re gonna eat her alive, he thought to himself once again.

    - Hey, you could show me around. - she suggested, jumping from the high chair onto the floor.

    - I don’t hang around SoHo, Y/N. 

    - Well, you could show me Brooklyn. Isn’t Coney Island in Brooklyn?

    - You wanna go to Coney Island? - he chuckled. - I don’t think your agency would enjoy that. Too public.

    - They don’t need to know. - she smirked playfully. - If you don’t tell them they won’t know.

    - You’re a celebrity, trust me you’ll be noticed. 

    - You said on your CV you were good at blending and disappearing into a crowd. Please, I’ll get you whatever you want in Coney Island.

    - Whatever I want? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her and she nodded. - Alright, Y/N.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess​ 

[kuekyuuq]

Gloria, Jet-lags and Imps [6x11]

Let’s jump right in:

Kinda love how Kara lamp-shaded addressed the fact she didn't tell the gang about her adventures in the PZ. She’s not wrong, tho.

...what do I want to say about Mxy using what's basically a well-known gay-anthem to tell his tale? I mean, it didn’t lead anywhere. The original song is about freeing oneself, liberation, stepping out of a (gone bad) relationship and moving on, stronger for it - empowerment. The only connection I could make, is that originally it was Nyxly’s aim to just do that (freeing herself and her kind from an oppressor), but in the way Mxy performed it, that part of the parallel was long over before he even reached the chorus. It’s also a popular Karaoke song, tho, so... he chose it because it’s catchy? I’ll try not to overthink it for now. At least, the Superfriend’s reactions were fun.

Nia exiting the elevator, "And what's this Old Stone?" I love it when ppl enter a room / situation and pick up on words that they couldn't have possibly heard. I think cinema sins ding such... Are we to assume, she dreamed Mxy's rendition of ‘I will survive’? Or is the elevator not sound-proof at all? (If it’s the latter, Nia later apparently telling Brainy “in private” between scenes / during the elevator ride about her Nyxly adventures, was a silly thing to do.)

So, "Jared" created the ring Old Stone to rule them all, it got shattered into the Paragons totems? Nyxly needs the totems and to get them she needs a crystal which also belonged to "Jared" - who happens to be Mxy's ancestor, which is why she needs Mxy / his blood, too.

I have one important and incredibly relevant question here, tho... 

With the introduced imps and their names... Why’s dude named Jared of all things?!

Really, did I mishear that? If so, I’ll leave it as is and never edit, bc that would be hilarious in its own right 😋

...

Not sure what to make about Supergirl paraphrasing a Dirty Dancing quote.  "Nobody puts Mxy into a power crystal on my watch."  ...is he Baby now? (Seriously, though: Which of the writers thought that was a fitting quote to use in that particular context?)

...now, is the exposition section of the episode over yet?

Sensitive Brainy sensed something was up with Nia. He can relate... Nia doubting Kara would understand, too, is ridiculous. But I get it... insecurities and all. But, I mean, just 5 minutes later Kara announces she wants to save Nyxly despite her wrongdoings. And yet Nia still remains convinced, Kara wouldn’t forgive her own personal mini-me... After having witnessed Kara forgiving Lena for a whole season of the writers being stupid messing up to the nth degree. But I digress, Lena’s Lena.

...how old is Nia meant to be again? Just asking out of completely unrelated curiosity.

F*ck. They really went with NewFoundland...

Imma assume it was an executive choice after realizing they couldn’t find enough actors and actresses with a convincing Irish accent... maybe. Again, no offense to Newfoundland! Just... we got the insinuations of Ireland, not Newfoundland... And truthfully, when I think of magic, Ireland is an easy association. Whereas I only due to this whole debacle learned Newfoundland has Irish ancestry. So, okay, the show forced me to learn something new... I give ‘em that.

An easy journey, she said.

Lena's been off-screen for two whole episodes, Kara announcing at the beginning of ‘Dreamweaver’ [6x09] Lena being “back east” (at least insinuating Lena’s left the west-coast already), which span over at least one full day (feat. a scene at night), and ‘I still rise’ [6x10] at least another a whole day (the whole Nia’s mom back for a day deal). And, now, after at least 48 hours she barely just arrived.

Lemme check how long a regular plane would need to fly from California to NFL......... ... .. .. So... approx. 10 hours with at least one layover. 

Yeah, using a private jet made it easier, but apparently also much, much slower...

Or, Lena randomly went some other places / did some sight-seeing in NFL before she decided to finally visit her mother’s hometown...  [Either that or the timelines don’t match up and Lena’s scenes are flashbacks of sorts.]

Optimistic and relaxed Lena is a sight to behold. I rewound 3 times, just to enjoy it for as long as possible. We all knew it was going to be short-lived... 

Let’s check off a few more items...

OMG, Kara hiding behind Alex at the mere sight of the PZ-projector broke my heart!  😢

"Elisabeth Walsh" is the new 'the one you shall not name'. ...poor Lena. 😭

Oh, so Mxy wants to be Patrick Swayze instead of Baby... gotcha.

...is this going anywhere?

KITTY!!! Okay, this must be the best opponent in the history of CWSG. 

Despite the horrible CGI, SG using her heat-vision to project a laser-beam to distract the cat had me in (happy-) tears! 🤣

Gotta love the civilians of National City quickly returning to business as usual once the giant cat is gone. Even the police officers looked rather chill...

Nyxly did look fabulous this episode ^^ 

Andrea being Lena's rock is both great and annoying. I can't fault Andrea. It's just, that we still have to see an on-screen interaction between Lena and Kara and that bugs the heck out of me. I can’t help it. I’m sorry, Andrea.

Nia: "...is my fault." Kara: "Nu, is MY fault!" J'onn: "Stop fighting, kids!" Space-dad has spoken.

Mxy used an LuthorCorp copy machine... and of cos it's faulty. It's not an L-Corp product.

Kara forgiving Nia came as a surprise to her... Oooookay. I mean, the show has been writing Kara a bit inconsistently the past two seasons... so, yeah, maybe being unsure which of her traits apply this week was not such a far stretch...

Maybe it's the hair, but I wished, Florence was played by Alex Kingston.

So, not-Alex-Kingston shows Lena herself with a funny wig and tells her how her mother was still watching her...

If it wasn't for Katie's acting skills (I love her.) I would have already hit my head against the wall repeatedly. Something about these scenes had me constantly cringe and I made it through 5.5 seasons of this show already... Can’t quite put my finger on it, but it was highly distracting from the story that explained Lena’s mom was special even to another witch, where there was domestic abuse, and an accidental murder. Y’know, important stuff, deep-cutting stuff! 

At least, poor widddle Lena got some closure there. Elisabeth was a good cookie. And filled with magic. And Lena’s gotta have that ‘spark’, too... 

....so... Lena’s gonna stay in NFL for how much longer, to train becoming a witch?  Please, just hand her a how-to manual and send her back home, to figure it out on her own, please... (Yes, that would be horrible decision-making, but I need her back with the team!)

On to the finish line: 

So... Mxy IS Nyxly's brother? Wait, that doesn’t sound right... then Nyxly would have the same blood... Did I miss something? Can someone explain, please? Or is he her ex, and that’s where his rendition of “I will survive” makes sense?

Hnn... I can't help, but think Kara's speech for Nyxly was 85% based on her experiences with Lena in s05.

Awww... he said "stronger together"... Mxy... I hope, you'll be okay!

Lena believes in magic now. And I absolutely love how Lena wants to science magic XD

...but apparently magic isn’t science that hasn’t been explained yet, but parallel... powers? concepts? ether strings?

Nyxly has a loyal henchman now. Which was a bit heavy-handed. Took way too much of screen-time, so it better leads to something interesting.

And Kara is on a warpath now. Wooooot! Girl’s got enough.

...what else? 

Did I miss a third Patrick Swayze hint / quote / mention?  I learned, these things come in threes... Y’know, basic writing rules... 

I guess, for once the episode title was meant to be taken literally, Mxy popping up between characters, to try and help. (I need in-show footage, of Mxy sneaking up on ppl, without his powers, on all fours / crouched, just to get the desired effect.) I mean, I’ve never really watched Malcom, but wasn’t he like what Mxy usually is? A bit of a trouble-maker, prankster, chaos-ensuing wherever he goes? ...well, in that case, the episode title didn’t hold up, as Mxy’s scenes were not fun or really goofy. Yes, there was some superficial humor, but just to serve Mxy dealing with not being able to use his powers, which in turn was only barely scratched at (although it turned out to be his final character development crisis, appreciating not having powers and - in turn - facing consequences for once). Again, a whole lot going on in the episode, so a lot of that may have ended up on the cutting-room floor.

...where’s Kelly? Secretly adopting a kid, maybe?

...Kara’s still a reporter, right? I mean, whenever it serves the immediate plot, yes? ...Not even a throw-away line, that she has to pop up at CatCo for appearances sake? Since Andrea is already upset with her AND looking into her friends’ identities? At least, Kara should take a peek to make sure Andrea hasn’t uncovered anything yet... No?

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now. Kue out.

[firstfullmoon]

Do you have favorite quotes related about the importance of small details?

“The precious intimacy of little things.”

— Daphné du Maurier, I Will Never Be Young Again

“On my windowsill when I got home, there was a tumbler with pink jelly in it, and embedded in the jelly, sliced strawberries and bananas… [my neighbour] cooks at odd hours. She must have made the strawberry jelly this morning. When I buy baklava, which is not often because I eat too many, I leave a few for her on her windowsill, with a headscarf over them so the wasps don’t come. For these little gifts we don’t thank each other with words. They are commas of care.”

— John Berger, From A to X: A Story in Letters

“I suppose I could spend time theorizing how it is that people are not bad to each other, but that’s really not the point. The point is that in almost every instance of our lives, our social lives, we are, if we pay attention, in the midst of an almost constant, if subtle, caretaking. Holding open doors. Offering elbows at crosswalks. Letting someone else go first. Helping with the heavy bags. Reaching what’s too high, or what’s been dropped. Pulling someone back to their feet. Stopping at the car wreck, at the struck dog. The alternating merge, also known as the zipper. This caretaking is our default mode and it’s always a lie that convinces us to act or believe otherwise. Always.”

“One of the woman was gently arranging an older woman’s collar beneath her sweater, freeing it from the cardigan’s neck, using both of her hands to jostle it free but also seeming to spend a little more time than necessary, creasing the fold of the collar, the other hand kind of resting on her shoulder, the two of them chatting the whole time, sitting there holding each other, nodding, my head twisting toward them like a sunflower as I finished the stairs and walked by, so in love was I with this common flourish of love, this everyday human light.”

“but her need to share the photo with me [...] smiling and looking at it, smiling and looking at me looking at it, me smiling and looking at her looking at it, which is simply called sharing what we love, what we find beautiful, which is an ethics.”

— Ross Gay, The Book of Delights

“He’s got a fever. He’s all alone. So I’m gonna buy him something to eat.” “The congee downstairs is quite good.” “He doesn’t want congee.” “What does he want?” “Can’t taste anything so he wants sesame syrup.” [...] “What are you cooking?” “I had a sudden craving for sesame syrup.”

“Why did you call me at the office today?” “I had nothing to do. I wanted to hear your voice.”

— In the Mood for Love, dir. Wong Kar-Wai

— Danusha Laméris, “Small Kindnesses”

“It all matters. That someone turns out the lamp, picks up the windblown wrapper, says hello to the invalid, pays at the unattended lot, listens to the repeated tale, folds the abandoned laundry, plays the game fairly, tells the story honestly, acknowledges help, gives credit, says good night, resists temptation, wipes the counter, waits at the yellow, makes the bed, tips the maid, remembers the illness, congratulates the victor, accepts the consequences, takes a stand, steps up, offers a hand, goes first, goes last, chooses the small portion, teaches the child, tends to the dying, comforts the grieving, removes the splinter, wipes the tear, directs the lost, touches the lonely, is the whole thing. What is most beautiful is least acknowledged. What is worth dying for is barely noticed.”

— Laura McBride, We Are Called to Rise

“I’ve never told you this,” she said. “But there’s something about taking the cart back instead of leaving it in the parking lot. I don’t know when this came to me; it was a few years ago. There’s a difference between leaving it where you empty it and taking it back to the front of the store. It’s significant.” “Because somebody has to take them in.” “Yes. And if you know that, and you do it for that one guy, you do something else. You join the world…You move out of your isolation and become universal.”

— Andre Dubus, “Out of the Snow”

“It’s true that, in Vietnamese, we rarely say I love you, and when we do, it is almost always in English. Care and love, for us, are pronounced clearest through service: plucking white hairs, pressing yourself on your son to absorb a plane’s turbulence and, therefore, his fear. Or now—as Lan called to me, “Little Dog, get over here and help me help your mother.” And we knelt on each side of you, rolling out the hardened cords in your upper arms, then down to your wrists, your fingers. For a moment almost too brief to matter, this made sense—that three people on the floor, connected to each other by touch, made something like the word family.”

— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel

— Ada Limón, from “The Great Blue Heron of Dunbar Road”

“I’m doing a balancing act with a stack of fresh fruit in my basket. I love you. I want us both to eat well.”

— Christopher Citro, from “Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled WIth Shrieks”

“One of the primary ways we connect with each other is by eating together. Some of the connection happens simply by being in the same place at the same time and sharing the same food, but we also connect through specific actions, such as serving food to one another or making toasts: ‘May I offer you some potatoes?’ ‘Here’s to your health and happiness.’ Much of our fundamental well-being comes from the basic reassurance that there is a place for us at the table. We belong here. Here we are served and we serve others. Here we give and receive sustenance.”

— Edward Espe Brown, Tomato Blessings and Radish Teaching

“Attention is the beginning of devotion.”

“Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful. May I stay forever in the stream. May I look down upon the windflower and the bull thistle and the coreopsis with the greatest respect.”

“it is a serious thing

just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.”

— Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays / from “Invitation”

— Wendy Cope, “The Orange”

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: if anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately. Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this. I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee? The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—she stopped crying. She thought our flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late. Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother until we got on the plane and would ride next to her—Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out, of course, they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—non-alcoholic—and the two little girls from our flight, one African American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade, and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

— Naomi Shihab Nye, “Gate A4″

“Then there are the things, if you are particularly lucky, that this person has done for you while you’re away: how in the pantry, in the freezer, in the refrigerator will be all the food you like to eat, the scotch you like to drink. There will be the sweater you thought you lost the previous year at the theater, clean and folded and back on its shelf. There will be the shirt with its dangling buttons, but the buttons will be sewn back in place. There will be your mail stacked on one side of his desk; there will be a contract for an advertising campaign you’re going to do in Germany for an Austrian beer, with his notes in the margin to discuss with your lawyer. And there will be no mention of it, and you will know that it was done with genuine pleasure, and you will know that part of the reason—a small part, but a part—you love being in this apartment and in this relationship is because this other person is always making a home for you, and that when you tell him this, he won’t be offended but pleased, and you’ll be glad, because you meant it with gratitude.”

— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

[hazelhalfpint]

Hi Hazel! I’d love to see something for “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” for the fluff prompts🥰❤️

Ahh! Yes, I’m excited to do these!

Here is my take on an Inu/Kag version for this one 💜

Sorry it took a minute to reply! I was at work!

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” Inu/Kag, fluff prompt. Also sorry if it’s a bit long lol I’m new to this stuff!

It was the hottest day of the summer yet, and the boardwalk was bustling with people and vendors alike. Little kids running through adults as they chased each other from vendor to vendor. Inuyasha pulled against the collar of his shirt nervously, his golden eyes searching for raven hair and blue eyes in the sea of people. He mentally chided himself for listening to Miroku’s advice on what to wear today. His normal tank top and shorts would of been much more comfortable than the stuffy polo he was currently wearing. She didn’t care what he looked like anyway. That’s one of the many things he loved about her.

15 years had passed since he’d met Kagome, and not a day had gone by that she didn’t find a new way to amaze him. She was the one person always in his corner, and today he wanted to show her just how much she meant to him. He wiped the sweat from his hands, and started down the boardwalk.

His golden eyes kept scanning the crowd of people for his girlfriend, recalling the first time they’d met, in this same place when his family first moved to California.

“Dog-boy! Dog-boy!” Three older boys and one older girl shouted at him as they circled the 7 year old hanyou, one of them bending over to poke at him with a stick.

“Ew!” the little girl shouted when his ears pinned back against his silver hair, “they move!” Inuyasha was growling now, though he was smaller, getting ready to pounce on one of the boys when a smaller voice from up above on the board walk caught his attention.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” A small rock hurled toward the group of bullies, thunking one of them on the forehead.

“Ouch! What the heck Kagome!”

“Toru, go home! I’m gonna tell your daddy that you’re picking on people again!” The girl was fuming, blue eyes shining with anger.

The nine year old boy, who Inuyasha now knew was named Toru, glared but gathered his friends anyway. As they stalked away, Kagome pushed past them rushing down the stairs to Inuyasha.

“Have fun playing with the dog-boy,” Toru called back to her. She growled this time, “Next time I’m gonna throw an even bigger rock at your big dumb head Toru.”

When she arrived in front of Inuyasha he was dusting himself free of sand,”You didn’t hafta do that.”

She cocked her head at him cutely, “Of course I did,” she disagreed smiling at him,”besides anyone who thinks you’re ears are gross is crazy. They’re cute!”

Inuyasha blushed at that, and she reached forward grabbing his hand, “come on, I’ve got two dollars for some ice-cream and you definitely need one!” She stopped when he didn’t immediately follow her, feeling the resistance against her hand on his.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Kagome. You probably don’t wanna get ice-cream with a stranger, so there now were not strangers!” She smiled again and he did so as well, this time letting her pull him along.

“My name is Inuyasha.”

———

Finally he caught sight of her, steps bouncing lightly as she jogged toward him, arm high in the air waving him down. He grinned, swallowing back any nerves he may have. She was beautiful, radiating the energy of sunshine with waist length raven hair. How he got so lucky he wouldn’t even dare question. She was his.

“Hey!” She grinned at him, and he returned her smile, wrapping her in a hug.

“You looked so deep in thought I was beginning to think you wouldn’t notice me,” she teased, poking his cheek with a manicured nail.

“How could I not notice you? You’re so annoyingly cheerful, I’d hafta be dead to not notice you.” He teased back, and she pouted at him, bottom lip quivering in feigned sadness.

“ I thought you liked my cheerfulness.” Inuyasha laughed, lacing his hand with her own and tugging her along with him as they walked.

“Idk, sometimes you’re too cheerful” he wagered, jokingly and she whined.

“Inuyasha, you’re so mean.”

“Oh whatever,” he stopped in front of the ice cream vendor,bending forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips, “ you know I love your cheerfulness”

He purchased them two vanilla cones and they continued their route, leading them down the steps of the boardwalk into the sand.

She licked at her ice-cream, noticing they were moving further from the boardwalk, “Where are we going?”

Inuyasha swallowed nervously but shrugged,“ I just thought it’d be nice to take a walk.”

“Uh-huh,” Kagome eyed her boyfriend suspiciously, before they came to an abrupt stop her body barely bumping into his own. They were near the outer edge of the board walk in the sand.

“Do you recognize where we are?” He glanced down at her, as her eyes glanced around, widening in slight realization. When he realized she caught on, his smile and nervousness grew.

“This is where we met for the first time.”

“That’s right! That’s the day I threw that rock at Toru’s head. I still hate that guy.” Her eyes narrowed in annoyance and Inuyasha laughed loudly.

“You’ve always been so aggressive.”

“I am not aggressive; I just hate bullies!” She countered, huffing indignantly.

“It’s okay. I love you anyways.” Her glare softened as he pulled her into an embrace.

“ I love you too, Inuyasha.” She smiled, bumping her nose against his. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent deeply, palming the small box in the pocket of his shorts.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” He spoke softly before opening his eyes to find her wide blue ones staring back,”Did you know that?” His heart was pounding wildly now, nearly vibrating in his ears as he spoke.

“Inuyasha,” his name came out a whisper, she was blushing at his affectionate statement, but he interrupted her next sentence with his own.

“Kagome, you’re the only person who has ever stood by my side fully from day one. You’re my person; my best friend. My heart hurts even thinking about you being away from me.” Her eyes widened and he pulled the box from his pocket, and knelt in front of her.

The sea air gently blowing their hair, his golden eyes were locked with her own, as he fumbled to pop open the suede black box. The ring was gorgeous, a rose gold band with a rose quartz gem adorning the center.

“Kagome Higurashi, I love you. I don’t ever want to know what a day in this life is like without you. Will you marry me?”

She cried, sinking to her knees as well and pulling his to her face to hers, holding it between both palms.

“ I wouldn’t ever want to marry anyone else. “ He grinned in relief and pulled her flush against him, placing a tender kiss to her lips.

“So that’s a definite yes?” He was grinning stupidly now the anxious feeling leaving him. She rolled her eyes in response.

“Yes you Baka! I’ll marry you. “ He pulled her to stand sliding the ring onto the appropriate finger and kissed her again.

“Thank you, Kagome. “

“ for what?” She asked, leaning her head against his chest. The gentle pace of his heart echoing in her ears.

“Just for being who you are.”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 12 - Final Chapter

* * * * * *

Natasha’s lithe fingers follow the trail of your spine, her touch on your bare skin gently stirring you from your sleep. 

The touch halts, lingering on a darker spot on your hip. Using the tip of her finger she traces the pattern of the birthmark. 

She hadn’t noticed that before. Just another thing about your body she’d learned in the past few days. 

While you weren’t sex crazed, after your first time together, you and Natasha had become much more sexually active. Almost every available night you spent tangled up in each other. 

That didn’t happen of course until after you’d both had a long and understanding conversation about what had happened. 

Now though, you’re both closer than you had been before, in every way. 

Natasha moves, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the mark on your hip, before curling into your back and kissing your neck. You, basking in her warmth and gentle touch, cuddle back into her and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest. 

“Good morning lyubov moya.” She speaks softly, each breath fanning your neck. 

You turn in her embrace, a sleepy smile on your lips,“ morning malyshka.”

A faint blush coats her cheeks as she ducks her head. Making you chuckle and press a kiss to the top of her head, arms tightening around her. 

Looking to the nightstand, your eyes widen when you realize you’d both slept well into the day, the time reading 11:35. No doubt due to the previous nights activities. 

“Tash, we should probably get up.” You tell the woman, just barely upset you’d wasted half the day.

She groans, somehow snuggling into you further.

You didn’t think you’d ever see the day Natasha Romanoff didn’t want to get out of bed. The woman consistently wakes up before the sun rises. 

“Don’t you just want to stay here with me?” Her words are a whisper against your skin and you shiver involuntarily. 

Biting your lip, you try to build a firm resolve in your head, but with the way Natasha’s fingers keeping gently stroking your skin, and the small pout on her lips, you fold.

Playfully groaning, you nod,“ I mean I guess we can stay in bed a little longer.” You look up to the ceiling in fake thought before meeting her gaze again.

"You make it seem as if this isn’t exactly what you want to be doing.” She teases, eyebrow quirked at you challengingly.

Of course she’s right. What right minded person wouldn’t want to stay in the arms of their love. 

Instead of indulging her smug attitude, you lean closer and press a kiss to her lips. She moves to deepen it, her lips adding pressure to yours. And then she pulls away abruptly. 

Eyes wide you back up a little, in case you just did something you shouldn’t have,“ what? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing I just, I have to pee.” She smacks a quick kiss to your lips and crawls out of bed.

You nod, then watching her sprint to the bathroom. While she’s in the bathroom, you use that time to get up and pull on some clothes, also picking up the clothes you and your girlfriend had discarded last night.

“This does not look like staying in bed.” 

Looking, your eyes move to the bathroom door where Natasha stands, hands on her hips. You can’t stop your gaze from trailing over the woman’s naked body. Every inch of her is beautiful: scars, curves, birthmarks, freckles, everything is breathtaking.

You nod and shake your head at the same time,“ yeah no I- well I was just tidying up is all.”

Green eyes narrow and she points to the bed. With a chuckle you obey, crawling back under the covers, and accepting Natasha into your arms when she crawls in afterwards. 

The both of you sit in the silence, reveling in each other’s embrace. A low hum leaves the ex-assassin’s lips when your fingers graze her scalp as you comb through her hair. The soft affection from you making her smile a little.

“Hey,” she squeezes you gently,“ I love you.”

Smiling brightly, you kiss the top of her head,“ I love you too Tash.”

Just holding her makes you beyond happy and you can’t express how glad you are things worked out. 

Seeing as you hadn’t exactly practiced what you preached, you hadn’t seen the benefits of total honesty with your partner. Now that you’re both on the same page it’s the most incredible feeling.

Natasha’s proven to be the most loving, understanding, and caring woman. Knowing that she can trust you wholly has her acting in a way she didn’t think she ever would. You’d pulled out this childlike happiness that she wasn’t allowed to have in the past. Moments like this: being affectionate and playful, happening more often. 

It’s not until Natasha’s stomach rumbles from hunger that you decide to get up. Leaving her to take a shower, you head out to the kitchen.

“Good morning Buck, Mister Rogers.” You nod to both men. 

They smile back, Bucky good naturedly patting your shoulder as you pass by.

“Looks like you slept well.” Steve notes, earning a scoff and chuckle from Bucky. 

“Or not at all.” 

Wide eyed you look back at the man, who sports a knowing grin. Steve’s cheeks heat up and you refrain from retaliating to Bucky purely for his sake. 

That doesn’t mean a comment isn’t made though.“ Jealous Rogers hasn’t put out yet?” 

All eyes fall to Natasha as she comes in smirking at Bucky and winking at Steve. You sigh, shaking your head at the woman’s antics and focusing on making her something to eat. 

As you cook, you engage in conversation with the three. They make it known that there’s been a spike in missions lately, something to do with some mad scientist over in California. 

Setting a plate down in front of Natasha, you ask,“ so they’re just mass experimenting on people and there hasn’t been any news on it?” 

They all raise their eyebrows at you as you sit to eat as well.“ What kind of news would you expect? It’s not like they’re interviewing the bad guy.”

“Well no, obviously, but if there’s suddenly a bunch of enhanced individuals tearing up the west coast I refuse to believe there are no reports on it. Some kid who saw them and posted about it, a family noticing their relative missing or showing abnormal abilities, hell a news report on some kind of superpowered mugger?” You explain yourself. 

You may not be here as a superhero but you’ve seen the way the public reacts to them. When the Avengers came out there wasn’t a news station that didn’t cover their every move.

“She’s right,” Natasha nods,“ we keep looking at underground channels instead of plain ole media.”

Both men share a glance, Steve then leaning forward and looking at you,“ where would we start?” 

A small chuckle leaves your lips,“ honestly, I’d go straight to social media. I don’t know what kind of programs or whatever you guys use but if you searched a particular word combination,” as you speak you go to wash up the few dishes you and Natasha had used,“ like superhuman + California it’s likely you’ll find something. Everything is always all over social media.” 

“So-”

Natasha quickly cuts Steve off,“ okay okay she’s given us a lead, let’s talk about it with Tony.” 

Both men nod, all of you understanding Natasha’s reasons for stopping it here: she doesn’t want you involved in this part of their work. 

In one of your many moments of honesty she told you that she would rather you not get into that. The team already comes back from missions and lays all that on you and you’re of course in danger enough just living with them, knowing in  depth mission details puts you further in danger and she refuses. 

And you’d also told her you genuinely didn’t want to be that involved anyway. As cool as you’ve seen being an Avenger can be, you have no interest in actually being one. Their therapist is a position you’re more than happy to fill. 

“Fellas, excuse us.” Natasha nods to them, taking your hand and pulling you back to your room. 

You can’t help giggle when she pushes you on to the bed and goes right back to cuddling you like you hadn’t left the bed in the first place. 

That’s where you both stay for the next few hours. Even when you decide to do something else she keeps you in her arms. While you play on your switch she watches over your shoulder, sporadically presses kisses to your neck, and asks what the heck it is you’re doing. 

Until the time approaches for you to get ready for tonight. Pepper had insisted that the couples of your friend group go out for the night. First dinner and then going to a play Tony had scored tickets to.

Wanting to be comfortable and still formal, you decide to wear a black pant suit, the top you choose is a solid black bralette, and you pair it all with a simple pair of black heels. 

“Zip me up?” Natasha steps out of the bathroom and turns her back to you.

As you do so, your eyes roam over her figure in the mirror. How she can make such a simple green dress look so beautifully elegant you don’t know but you love it. 

“You look gorgeous, love.” You tell her, pressing a light kiss to her shoulder. 

She smiles as she looks at you,“ as do you malyshka.” 

Once you both have everything you need, you leave out. Bucky and Steve are waiting for the two of you by the door and together all of you climb into Bucky’s truck.

Everyone meets up at the restaurant and are seated after confirming that they’re a part of Tony’s dinner party.

Admittedly you weren’t too sure about this whole thing for a number of reasons, but your worries fade away throughout dinner. 

There’s an amazing energy flowing through the group. It’s beyond entertaining to see the matching sass between Tony and Maria Rambeau. The woman is just as witty as Carol which makes their interactions with the billionaire very entertaining. 

You find yourself jumping from about three different conversations, one being with Pepper, Laura, and Natasha, the other with Clint, Steve, and Bucky, and of course the one with Tony, Carol, and Maria. 

Funnily enough, the first conversation sounds a lot like what you’d expect to hear from three wives, wine and partner complaints galore, with the guys it’s mainly sports(Bucky and Clint aren’t too happy about the MLB playoffs), and as mentioned, the last conversation is very sassy. 

“-if I can fly my suits I think I can fly a fighter jet.” The man continues is his argument.

With a chuckle, you look at him pointedly,“ Tony, my friend, pick your battles,” then you take a bite of your dessert.

Natasha notices the way your eyes widen and you eagerly take another bite. Her elbow gently nudges you and when she gives the cutest little pout you know what she wants. So you scoop another piece of the food onto your spoon and hold it out to her. 

A hum of approval leaves her and you smile, wiping a spot of chocolate off the corner of her lip, which elicits her to lean in and kiss you. 

The bubble pops when Tony speaks,“ it’s like we aren’t even here.” 

His words make your friends laugh, Pepper reaches over to smack his arm,“ pay him no mind, you two are adorable together.” 

“Natasha and adorable? Never thought I’d see the day.” Tony further teases.

“Hey T, remember when you lost that bet to me and had to wear-”

“Aye aye okay,” he raises his hands in surrender,“ no more teasing I got it.”

Pepper covers her laugh with her hand, knowing exactly what you’re talking about, and everyone else looks at you and Tony expectantly. But you smoothly change the conversation and everyone soon moves past that moment. 

Almost everybody. 

It’s after you’ve sat down at the play venue that Natasha brings it back up. 

The lights dim and she leans into your side, you wrap an arm around her, and the actors walk on to the stage to begin the play.

“Y/n,” she pokes your side making you look over at her, voice a whisper, she asks,“ what did Tony have to wear?” 

Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, you lean over to whisper in her ear,“ assless chaps.” 

Her jaw drops, the corners of her lips lifting in amusement,“ you’re kidding.”

You shake your head,“ it’s a long story but the moral of it is that Tony should not underestimate me.”

Even though your eyes are trained on the play you can feel Natasha still looking at you. 

If you were looking at her though, you’d see stars in those green orbs. Better yet hearts. You would see how absolutely in love with you she is. And she genuinely can’t believe it.

Had anyone told her, when you walked through the compound doors, that she would’ve fallen in love with you she would’ve laughed. And she would’ve been more wrong than she ever had been in her life. Because here she is staring at you like a lovestruck idiot.

You’d managed to come in and completely flip her world upside down. 

“Miss Romanoff, you’re missing the play.” A teasing smile masks your lips as you look down at her. 

Before you can turn away, she’s gently grabbing your chin, and kissing you. 

“Thank you.” Her breath fans your lips. 

“For what?” You frown.

“For proving me wrong. At every turn. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met-”

“Shhhhh.” A voice interrupts from behind you and you turn around to find a frowning, clearly pissed off, older man.

Locking eyes with him you whisper/yell,“ hey buddy my girl’s trying to profess her undying love for me, if you could just not butt in that’d be great.” With a thumbs up you turn back to Natasha,“ as you were saying.”

The woman shakes her head amusedly,“ I love you so fucking much.”

Even though you can tell she has more to say, it’s obviously not the best place for that. Besides you know the two of you have all the time in the world, so you simply kiss her again,“ I love you too.”

* * * * * *

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