#I’d assume it’s okay ?? I get your concern and again I can’t really speak on this

[potato-lord-but-not]

Hello there! First off, lovely blog and lovely art! I got into Malevolent recently because of you! It's fantastic! I know you're not the judge and jury on this, and I'm sure this as a larger issue has been addressed before, so you're free to dismiss this question. I'd like to cosplay Arthur (I've never cosplayed before), but wouldn't have a John, and I'm concerned playing a blind character (even with a demonic entity acting as a guide) wouldn't be in good faith as a seeing person. Of course, it's only dress up and all, but I'd hate to make a faux pas like that and wind up hurting someone. I guess it'd just be wearing a bloody 1930s costume? Maybe Kayne would be better? Just curious on your thoughts, or if you know someone who has an understanding of if/how to go about this with tact. Alright, off to continue listening! Have a wonderful day, and thank you again for your time.

definitely not the person to ask as I am neither blind nor a cosplayer- what do the people think?

sorry if I’m not using correct terms my brain is refusing to function lmao

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Forced Orgasms (Matt)

Request: handcuffing & blindfolding matt on his birthday. his gift is reader herself. she goes down on him & whispers filthy things in his ear. putting her boobs in his face. riding him. but he can't see or touch the entire time. so he gets so overwhelmed out of pleasure & all that?

Warnings: smut, use of handcuffs/vibrator/blindfold, minimal squirting, daddy kink, idk what else to put lol

Matt’s pov

Today was our 20th birthday, it was Sunday morning and I woke up to the smell of vanilla and coconut. It was Y/n, our hometown best friend who now lives near us in LA, I’d know her smell anywhere. See, I may or may not have a huge crush on her, so I was pleasantly surprised to be woken up by her. “Good morning Matthew, happy birthday!” she said excitedly as I rolled over in bed, “Don’t call me Matthew” I groaned into my pillow. “C’mon get up! Me, Madi, and Laura have a surprise for you guys, go brush your teeth” she tried pulling me up but failed, “Okay fine” I agreed, getting up and going to brush my teeth.

She covered my eyes as we walked downstairs to the living room, I heard Nick complaining to Madi when we got there and assumed we were just waiting on Chris. I was right as a couple of minutes later we heard Chris come upstairs and all of our eyes were uncovered “Surprise!” we heard a bunch of people say. It was our parents, Justin, and Nate, that was a really good surprise. We walked over and hugged everyone, thanking Laura, Y/n, and Madi afterwards because they knew we missed everyone. We had a pretty chill day, going out for a late lunch around 4pm because our parents and Justin were jet lagged as fuck. Nate was staying with us and he wasn’t really that tired anyways.

We got home around 6:30pm, Madi, Y/n, and obviously, Nate came back with us. I felt like everyone knew something that I didn’t because Chris and Nate kept smirking at me while Y/n, Nick, and Madi kept whispering shit to each other. I was confused but I just ignored it, chilling for an hour and a half before I went upstairs to change, for some reason, Y/n followed me. “What are you doing?” I questioned her, she grabbed one of my hands, making me nervous as she played with the couple of rings I had on. She looked at me with an adorable shy smile, “I have another gift but it’s only for you, pack some clothes and stuff, it’s a surprise” she said shyly, letting my hand go as she sat on my bed. I was still confused but I packed a bag anyways, we headed downstairs and Y/n said bye to everyone.

I was literally so confused, where are we going, what are we doing? I thought to myself as I too said bye to everyone. “Bye Bernard, have fun, and don’t get mad at me for exposing you!” Chris shouted as we left. “What is he talking about?” I asked Y/n, “Don’t worry about it, but you can’t get mad at me if you don’t like it. It was Chris’ idea, I just agreed that I liked it” she once again said nervously as we got into her car. We arrived at her apartment but before going inside she put a blindfold on me, dragging me inside “Wait here for two seconds I’ll be right back” she said, running up the stairs.

Coming back down after a few minutes, she grabbed my hand again and helped me up the stairs, we made it to her bedroom. I could smell her favorite vanilla candle burning which was calming but I got nervous again when she started speaking, holding one of my hands again. “Promise me that you won’t beat Chris’ ass for telling me this and don’t yell at Nate and Nick for telling me something else” she pleaded, now I was concerned because what the fuck did they tell her?

“I promise to try not to beat his ass” I nervously laughed, still not able to see anything, “And you have to promise not to get mad at me because I’ve almost backed out so many times because I don’t want to lose you as a friend” she said kinda fast. That’s something she does when she’s really anxious so I pulled her in for a hug, she had definitely changed shirts since I could now feel her shoulders but I just ignored it “I could never get mad at you” I honestly told her. “You have to promise me Matt” she mumbled, “I promise Y/n/n” I said as she pulled away, standing off to the side of me.

“Okay then take your blindfold off” I did as she said, blinking a few times before realizing what was laid out on her bed. There was a black silky blindfold, two sets of fuzzy black handcuffs, and a vibrator on her bed. Confused I turned to Y/n to ask, “What is all that f-“ but I quickly cut myself off, when I saw what she was wearing, “Woah…” I said as I felt my cock start to get hard. There she was, wearing an all black, lace lingerie set and she looked fucking phenomenal. “Do ya like it Matty?” said asked while biting her lip, my eyes raked over her body, “Love it” was all I could manage to say.

Y/n stood in front of me, “So Nick and Nate have been saying you have a little crush on me…” she teased, “And Chris really did you a solid” she continued. I blushed because it’s true but I was also confused as to what Chris told her. “What did he do?” I asked, Y/n stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my neck, making my breath hitch. “He told me that you wanted me to blindfold you and handcuff you to the bed. And that you wanted me to ride you and tease you all night” she said in a seductive voice. Moving closer to my ear, she whispered, “Is that something you really want Matty?” she asked before stepping back.

I couldn’t believe what she just said, I was only able to let out a breathless, “Please” which made her smile. “Yeah? Then strip down to your boxers and sit on the bed for me pretty boy” she said. Placing her hand over my cock and giving it a quick squeeze before she sat on the corner of the bed. I stood there processing everything until she snapped me out of it, “I’m waiting Matty” she spoke in a condescending tone. With that I quickly got undressed and sat on the bed, Y/n came and sat on my lap “You really wanna do this Matt?” she asked sweetly.

Y/n’s pov

Matt put his hands on my waist and looked at me with his bright blue eyes, “More than anything, please I want this so bad” he said before moving one hand to my cheek and pulling me in for a kiss. I started grinding down on him as the kiss got heated, I grabbed one set of handcuffs and cuffed his right arm to the bed frame. Matt bucked his hips up and whined as I did the same with his left hand and he pulled away. “Holy fuck this is already so much hotter than I could have ever imagined” he panted, already looking so fucked out.

Before I could say anything, Matt spoke in a low voice, “Chris left one thing out, I want you to force me to cum until I physically can’t anymore. Don’t stop unless I say the color red. No matter what, do not stop” “That’s fucking hot” I smirked at him. I placed my lips back onto Matt’s while rubbing my hands up his sides, biting his lip as I pulled away. “Are you ready for the blindfold daddy?” I asked, remembering Matt once said he had a daddy kink. He let out a deep groan “Wanna see you get naked first” considering he’d be blindfolded for most of this, I decided to be nice.

I got off the bed and turned around, teasingly taking my panties off so Matt could see my ass before I went back to straddling his lap. I unhooked my bra and dropped it off the side of the bed while Matt’s eyes stayed glued to my chest. He was also biting his lip so I gently pulled it back from his teeth, “Is this better?” I asked as I grabbed the blindfold. “So much better” he replied, “It’s a shame you won’t be able to see it” I smirked as I slipped the blindfold over his head and got up, remembering I forgot to pull out my lube. “What are you doing?” he questioned but I just ignored him, throwing the lube on the bed and sliding his boxers down.

I knew Matt was going to be big, but I wasn’t expecting him to be this big, “You never told me you had such a big dick before” I teased him, watching his cock ooze with precum. “You never asked” he replied back, trying to be a smart ass but quickly humbled himself as I grabbed onto his cock. “Don’t be smart mouth with me, Matthew” I replied, moving down to tease his cock, licking a bold stripe from his balls all the way up to his tip. His breath hitched as I moved back to sitting on his lap, grinding my wet pussy against his cock. “Don’t tease me Y/n/n” Matt groaned, thrusting his hips up in hopes of sliding into me but failed.

I kissed my way down Matt’s body, fully taking all of his hard cock into my mouth at once causing Matt to let out a surprised moan. I licked all across his shaft, digging my tongue into the slit which caused Matt to buck his hips up and make me gag. I continued sucking him off until, without a warning, Matt came down my throat. I moaned around his cock before pulling off and swallowing, “That was- wow that was amazing” Matt panted out. “Want me to ride your cock daddy?” I asked while kissing his neck and rubbing his thigh, causing him to get hard again. “Please do. I want your wet little pussy around my cock so bad baby” he groaned, desperate to fully live out his fantasy. I moved to straddle his lap, lining up my hole with his dick and slowly sinking down, whimpering at the big stretch.

“You’re so big Matt! Making me feel so full” I whined. Slowly, I started to move on his cock, “Goddamn babe, you’re so fucking tight” Matt groaned, bucking his hips up slightly. I started moving at a pretty decent pace, loving Matt’s moans and grunts from beneath me. I removed my hands from his shoulders and started playing with my tits, making sure to let out loud whines and moans to tease him. “I bet you wish you were the one touching my tits right now huh?” I teased, shoving my boobs in his face. “So badly Y/n/n, fuck- I want you to cum around my cock so bad” he said, I moaned as he started thrusting his hips up, causing me to get closer to the edge.

“S-So close daddy” I cried out, “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me” Matt ordered, I started bouncing faster and rubbing my clit. “Fuck Matt, I’m gonna cum! Need you to cum inside of me” I told him as started to cum around his cock, moaning loudly. Matt let out a grunt before filling me up with his cum, I slowly got off his cock and ran my fingers through my folds to collect all the cum. Once my fingers were coated with a mixture of our cum, I brought them up to Matt’s mouth. “Suck my fingers for me Matty” I asked nicely, rubbing the tips of my fingers across his lips, Matt obliged and sucked all three of my fingers clean. He wasn’t hard again yet, but I still started cleaning the cum off his cock with my tongue, slightly overstimulating him. Slowly Matt got hard again, whimpering as I started to kitten lick the tip, making him involuntarily thrust his hips up.

“Too much Matt?” I questioned in a teasing tone, “No! Feels so good, I can definitely cum more for you!” he whimpered out desperately. I started to give him head again, deep throating him the best I could while massaging his balls. I ran my other hand up and down his stomach, lightly scratching the skin and making him shudder at the feeling. “You’re doing so good Y/n/n, making me feel amazing! I always knew you were a slut for my cock” Matt groaned, both praising and degrading me. I moaned around his cock which caused him to thrust his hips up and let out a guttural groan as he came down my throat with minimal warning. All I got was a whiny, “I’m g-gonna—” before he was shooting his load into my mouth.

I obviously swallowed and then pressed my lips against Matt’s, smiling into the quick kiss. I licked up the side of Matt’s neck, nibbling on his earlobe before asking, “How’s the birthday boy enjoying his surprise gift?” resulting in him whimpering. “He’s enjoying it more than he should be…” he moaned, “That’s good, is it too much yet baby?” I asked, wanting to make sure I wasn’t making him cum too much in such a short amount of time. “No, I want more… Actually, I need more. Please! Remember what I said?” He squirmed as I ran my hand across his inner thighs “You want me to force you to cum until you can’t anymore and say the color red” I replied with a giggle.

“That’s correct and I don’t remember saying red yet, so get back to work” he ordered me, “Matt you’re really not in any position to tell me what to do, you know? If I wanted to I could just leave you like this, hard and needy” I teased him. “You wouldn’t dare” he growled, moving his legs to wrap around my thigh and pulling me closer so he could grind himself up against my thigh. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting him to do that but it was really fucking hot. “Wow, I didn’t know you were so needy for me daddy” I said as I pulled my thigh away from his dick, “Take off the fucking blindfold” he tried to sound authoritative, but he honestly just sounded like he was begging.

Instead of giving him what he wanted, I grabbed the lube and opened it, squirting some directly onto Matt’s hard cock. “Fuck, that’s cold” Matt whined before I started jerking him off, spreading around both the lube and the precum on his cock. I was moving my hand at a fast pace and since Matt was already extremely oversensitive so I wasn’t too shocked when he started cumming a bit, but I didn’t stop this time, I kept going. I was enjoying how much Matt was squirming and whimpering under me and I knew it was starting to become too much for him.

Matt surprisingly came a lot for this being his 5th orgasm in such a short amount of time, shooting out cum onto his stomach and my hand. “Have you ever used a vibrator before Matt?” I asked while he was panting from his orgasm, “Yeah, I have one. They feel good, are you gonna use yours on me?” he asked out of breath. “Can I?” I asked, not wanting to push it, “You can, IF you take the blindfold off and let me eat you in the morning” he explained. “Okay fine, only because I wanna see those pretty blue eyes” I agreed.

I slipped the blindfold off, letting Matt’s eyes adjust to the light, watching as they scanned the room before looking at me and staring to get hard again. “Look at that, all I have to do is look at you to get hard” he chuckled before adding, “Make out with me for a minute, yeah?” I giggled at his cuteness but complied, cupping one side of his face and pressing our lips together. We had a heated makeout for a few minutes before I pulled away, Matt bit my lip as I did so, making me whine. “If you want me to cum a lot, you’re going to have to use the vibrator on my tip mostly” he said quietly, blush spreading across his face.

I kissed his neck, mumbling a quick “Got it” before sucking a few hickies onto his collarbone. “This is definitely going to be the last time I’ll be able to cum so I want you to ride my thigh and use that vibrator on me. I need to mark you up too, it’s not fair” he told me. I grabbed the small vibrator and sat on his thigh, slowly rocking back and forth before I turned it on and enclosed my fist with the vibrator around the tip of his cock. Almost instantaneously, Matt started whining as his thigh flexed under me, causing me to moan in return.

“Feel good Matty?” I asked, already knowing the answer, “Mhmm, please uncuff my right hand, wanna rub your clit and make you cum!” he begged and who was I deny that? As soon as he was uncuffed, his two fingers were inside my mouth, having me get them nice and wet so he could rub my clit, noticing we were both getting close. Matt pulled his fingers out of my mouth and immediately started rubbing my clit while sucking hickies into the skin of my neck and breasts. “Fuck daddy, ‘m so close already!” I whimpered and Matt just hummed in agreement, speeding up his movements.

Not even a minute later, I was squirting all over his thigh due to the stimulation on my clit, which led to his orgasm and it was indeed bigger than the last two. I was out of it and didn’t realize I was still holding the vibrator against him until his hand came up to lightly slap my face. Not hard enough to hurt, more like a tap to get my attention back, “R-Red” he said hoarsely, not being able to reach the vibrator himself. “S-Sorry Matty” I said turning it off and tossing it somewhere on the bed behind me “S’okay” he said softly.

Without getting up, I unlocked the other handcuff, Matt’s left arm came down to wrap around my waist like his right one. Matt started leaving kisses up my neck, sucking a few more hickies across the otherwise clear skin. “Best. Birthday. Ever.” he said between kisses, that were slowly moving up towards my lips until we finally shared a lazy but passionate kiss. “Can we go to sleep Matty, ‘m tired” I yawned, even though he should be the tired one.

Matt nodded, helping me lay down before grabbing his shirt off the floor to wipe the cum off both of us. He threw his shirt back onto the floor, moving the vibrator to my nightstand, and handing me my phone to turn the lights off. When I unlocked my phone I laughed, “Chris wants to know if you enjoyed your surprise” “Send him a picture of me kissing your neck right now, it’ll teach him not to be so nosey” Matt mumbled back before kissing my neck.

I snapped a quick picture, not really capturing my face, and sent it with the caption of: ‘Matt said stop being nosey’ and waited for his reply. I turned the lights off as Matt pulled my back against his chest, resting his head on my shoulder as we cuddled up together, only opening our eyes again when we got a response. From Chris: ‘I just threw up’ Matt just kissed my neck again as I turned my phone off, “Well then he shouldn’t have fucking asked” he said tiredly.

I hummed in agreement, grabbing his hand that was around my waist and holding it. “Goodnight Matty, I know it’s technically Monday now but happy birthday handsome” I told him. “Goodnight my beautiful girl, I hope you know you’re mine after tonight and that I love you” he whispered into my ear, “Don’t forget Imma wake you up tomorrow by eating you out” he added. I giggled before replying with an “I know and I love you too” before we both drifted off to sleep. I guess you could say I made a pretty good birthday present.

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- none😼

A/N- Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n

Ch-25 ~The Mad Captain~

Anaya rushed to the side of the railing and looked down at the land far away, "This is pure madness!" She yelled louder than she'd anticipated.

"This is impossible!" She heard Alina speak in a similar tone

“When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable.” Sturmhond responded, grinning. He truly looked like a lunatic.

“Where did this thing come from?” Alina shouted up to Sturmhond.

“I designed her. I built her. And I crashed a few prototypes.”

Anaya started pacing around the ship. She'd always dreamed of flying as a child, but it was really just a foolish dream, one she'd never expected to come true. Her heartbeat grew faster, "Okay um, maybe dying from falling off the sky isn't such a bad way to go out" she wavered her arms. 

"Don't worry darling, this ship won't crash, at least that's what I hope" the mad boy nodded. His words weren't helping in the slightest.

Mal leaned over the lip of the cockpit, trying to get a better view of the gigantic guns positioned at the foremost points of the hulls. “Those guns,” he spoke. “They have multiple barrels.”

“And they’re gravity fed. No need to stop to reload. They fire two hundred rounds per minute.” Sturmhond responded

“That’s—”

“Impossible? The only problem is overheating, but it isn’t so bad on this model. I have a Zemeni gunsmith trying to work out the flaws. Barbaric little bastards, but they know their way around a gun. The aft seats rotate so you can shoot from any angle.” The bastard began showing off at the worst possible hour

“And fire down on the enemy,” Mal shouted. “If Ravka had a fleet of these—”

“Quite an advantage, no? But the First and Second Armies would have to work together.”

Anaya suddenly saw a bright light shining off the port bow, great lighthouse at Alkhem Bay. They were close. She could see the gleaming towers of Os Kervo harbour.

But the madman didn't went towards it. She assumed they’d set down somewhere offshore.

But soon the lighthouse beam disappeared from her sight. Just what was this boy intending to do?

The cold winds crashed with Anaya's body, making her quiver. She managed to peer down again, but they were no longer near normal land.

“Sturmhond!” Alina suddenly shouted in panic. “What are you doing?”

“You said you were taking us to Os Kervo—” Mal yelled.

“I said I was taking you to meet my client.”

“Forget that,” Alina wailed. “Where are we going to land?”

“Not to worry,” said Sturmhond. “I have a lovely little lake in mind.”

“How little?” she squeaked.

Mal climbed out of the cockpit in haste, his face burning with fury. “Mal, sit down!” Alina ordered

“You lying, thieving—” he charged towards the boy

“I’d stay where you are. I don’t think you want to be jostling around when we enter the Fold.” Sturmhond remained eerily calm

Mal froze.

The bastard began to whistle that same off-key tune.

You can’t be serious,” Alina said.

“Not on a regular basis, no,” said Sturmhond. “There’s a rifle secured beneath your seat, Oretsev. You may want to grab it. Just in case.”

“You can’t take this thing into the Fold!” Mal bellowed.

“Why not? From what I understand, I’m traveling with the one person who can guarantee safe passage.”

“Maybe I’ll just let the volcra have you and your crew for a late-night snack!” Alina spoke with immense rage

Sturmhond kept one hand on the wheel and consulted his timepiece. “More of an early breakfast. We really are behind schedule. Besides, it’s a long way down. Even for a Sun Summoner.”

Anaya began to pace around again, much rapidly this time. "He really is going to throw us offboard and feed us to the volcra!" Anaya screamed in panic, her breath trembling. She had a nervous smile plastered over her face that looked quite concerning, "I was right" she whispered

“Saints,” Alina swore.

They stars hung in the dark blue sky, the moonlight gleamed behind them. But ahead, there was nothing. The crazy bastard was actually going to drive them into the fold

“Gunners, at your stations,” he called. “Squallers, hold steady.”

“Sturmhond, I’m going to kill you!” Alina shouted. “Turn this thing around right now!”

“Wish I could oblige. I’m afraid if you want to kill me, you’ll just have to wait until we land. Ready?”

“No!” Alina shrieked.

But the next moment, they were in darkness. The blanket of the dark abyss covered the skies. There was an eery silence around them, they were inside the fold.

Alina braced her feet against the deck and threw up her hands in a hurry, casting a wide golden swath of sunlight around the Hummingbird.

“They’re coming, listen.” Mal spoke

Over the rush of the wind, they could heard a cry echo through the Fold, and then the steady beating of volcra wings. They’d found them quickly, drawn by the smell of human prey. Their wings beat the air around the circle of light Alina had created, . 

Anaya rushed to a side of the cockpit and picked up a rifle, bracing herself for whatever was to come their way.

Alina spread her arms, allowing the light to gleam brighter, driving them back.

“No,” Sturmhond spoke. “Bring them closer.”

“What? Why?” she asked. The boy was really craving to pet his tamed beasts.

“They hunt us,” he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear him. “Maybe it’s time we hunted them.”

“Pull back the light,” Sturmhond told Alina.

“He’s out of his mind,” she said to Mal. “Tell him he’s out of his mind.”

But he hesitated. “Well...”

“Well what?” she asked, incredulously. “In case you’ve forgotten, one of those things tried to eat you!”

He shrugged “Maybe that’s why I’d like to see what those guns can do.”

Anaya blew out an exasperated breath, the privateer had driven everyone mad.

“Just for a moment,” pressed Sturmhond. “Indulge me.”

The crew was waiting. Tolya and Tamar were hunched over the protruding barrels of their guns. They looked like leather-backed insects. Tamar gestured Anaya to come over. So she quietly put the rifle back and went towards on of the guns , it seemed to be reserved for her. "We need you here" Tamar spoke. Anaya nodded and took her position

Mal lifted his rifle to his shoulder.

The circle of light contracted, shrinking around the ship.

The Volcra began to shriek in excitement.

"All the way!" the mad captain commanded.

[pippytmi]

Roommates au, enemies to lovers, “you confuse me.” Supercorp obvs

“You’re a fucking liar.”

This is—objectively speaking—not the worst greeting Kara has ever received from her roommate, and so she takes it in stride. “Uh, hello to you…too,” Kara says slowly, silently running through a list of everything she could have done wrong to warrant such strong words.

But Lena does not offer any explanation; in fact, when she spots Kara in the doorway, she sends her a nasty glare as if Kara has said something wrong. “Don’t pretend you’re a saint in this matter, Lex,” Lena hisses, and only then does Kara notice the cell phone in Lena’s hands. “If I have to go and clean up your mess again…”

So it’s one of those days. Kara wisely shuts the door quietly behind her, and sneaks into the kitchen as Lena takes her argument into her room.

There is a list of chores pinned to the fridge—four black X’s cross out Lena’s, and Kara’s are underlined twice. They have a code, so as to avoid speaking to each other; X’s mean done, underlined means Kara you're a slob and a pain in the ass to live with. (All verbatim, by the way.)

The dishes, however, are not on Kara’s agenda at the moment. She instead takes the expensive whiskey hidden under the sink (that belongs to Alex, not that she has noticed it’s missing), and pours it into a glass with some ice. Then she whips out the ingredients for a stir fry, complete with every vegetable she had been saving for the potluck at work this weekend.

It is an unspoken rule that Lena will shut herself off into her room after this phone call is over. She does that every time her brother calls (and on occasion her mother), and Kara has picked up enough information about her roommate to know Lena will appreciate a hard drink and some food. She hasn’t said so or anything, but every time Kara knocks three times on the door and leaves a plate outside, it will re-emerge an hour later completely empty.

Lena’s voice grows louder despite the distance, and Kara turns on the stereo out of respect for her roommate's privacy. Lena hates the stereo and all it stands for; she argues it is outdated, and they have numerous pieces of technology that are less bulky and fully able to connect to radio stations. But Kara keeps it around anyway, because she still likes buying CD’s (and maybe to bother Lena, which is a bonus).

Blink-182 is playing on that alternative station Alex likes. Kara cranks it up as she cooks, singing under her breath as she sautes bell peppers and onions, ignoring the rumble of her stomach and the tight belt of her work pants still digging into her hips. “Say it ain’t so, I will not go,” she practically yells, poking her head into the fridge for the tofu that Lena always keeps. Kara personally won’t touch the stuff, but Lena is trying to eat less meat. It cuts up easily enough, even though Kara isn’t sure what the proper technique is.

She leaves the finished plate and drink outside after it’s done, rapping on Lena’s door in tune with The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army,” and then finally has some dinner herself. Since the tofu is unappetizing, Kara stores the rest of the stir fry in a container for Lena to take for lunch, and opts for a sandwich. She eats while scrolling through her notifications (she owes Nia twenty bucks, and so far Nia has been clogging up her phone with Venmo requests all well over $500), and keeps the radio on just for background noise.

That’s probably why she doesn’t even notice when Lena approaches; Kara has barely begun to type a text to Nia swearing to bring some cash next time she visits when a sharp voice declares,

“You confuse me.”

Which. Is not at all what Kara expected from her usually empty kitchen. And, caught exceptionally off guard, she nearly falls off her chair. “What the—Lena,” she sputters, righting herself. Unfortunately, the crust of her sandwich is a casualty of the surprise, and she watches as it crumples devastatingly on the floor.

Lena is not half as concerned about the fate of her dinner, and she stalks forward to jab a finger at Kara’s chest. “You confuse me,” she repeats.

Kara blinks. Then blinks again. “Um, okay,” she says. “…why?”

A strange, strangled noise rises from Lena’s mouth, and she appears angrier than Kara has ever seen. (Well, except for that one time that Kara did laundry and flooded the apartment laundromat, which had other pissed off tenants leaving mean messages for two weeks straight). “Because,” angrier-than-usual Lena says, “you do shit like cook food for me and don’t even say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kara frowns, not sure where this conversation is going. “If you want I can start saying ‘Hey Lena, I made dinner’ every time.”

“You and I don’t do dinner,” Lena says, and it sounds like an accusation. “Every time I get off the phone, you decide to leave food outside my door. Why? What on Earth compels you to do that?”

“Because you’re always upset afterwards,” Kara says slowly. “And I thought you could use some cheering up, or at least a drink.”

“Whiskey,” Lena notes. “It’s always whiskey. And it’s never a cheap brand.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, gesturing pointedly to Lena’s designer work clothes (that she never seems to be without; Kara’s not sure Lena even owns pajamas). “You would probably accuse me of poisoning you if I gave you anything less.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything,” she says. “So whatever this is, you can stop it.”

“What do you mean, ‘whatever this is’?” Kara repeats incredulously. “I’m just being nice!”

“I never asked you to be ‘nice’!”

Kara exhales, and reminds herself that it is illegal to strangle people. Especially since she is Lena’s roommate, and will therefore be suspect #1. Kara has never been a violent person, but her roommate just manages to test her limits.

“Look,” Kara says patiently, “I give you my sister’s whiskey, and she doesn’t care because she is trying to give up drinking. And I’m not a frequent cook or anything, but I can still throw together a plate because I know you don’t cook at all. That’s it! I don’t have a hidden agenda, or some secret plot here. I’m just being friendly.”

“We are not friends, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “And I know exactly what this is, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

God, what an insufferable—“Okay, know-it-all,” Kara says, instead of the ruder words echoing through her head. “What am I doing?”

Lena’s jaw clenches noticeably. “You pity me,” she accuses. “You look down at my relationship with my family, and—and I don’t want your sympathy, or your stupid food, anymore.”

“If you wanted me to back off, that’s fine,” Kara says, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “But I don’t pity you, or feel sorry for you. Heck, with your track record, I’d feel more sympathy for your family. They seem to be on the other end of some nasty phone calls.”

Lena’s expression darkens. “You don’t know my family.”

“I don’t know you very well, either,” Kara retorts, and she turns back to her phone where three new Venmo requests are waiting (two of them well in the thousands range; Nia must think she’s hilarious). “Message received, okay? I’ll leave you alone.”

At first, Kara assumes that's the end of it—assumes that Lena is going to stalk off, and leave a strongly worded post-it on the fridge later that night for Kara to wake up to. That has always been how their relationship works; they fight, reiterate how much they hate living together, and go right back to ignoring each other.

But Lena doesn't walk away. Instead she sighs, and at that unexpected sound Kara looks up just in time to catch Lena frowning. “I—” Lena begins, and then she pauses uncomfortably before getting the words out. “I'm...sorry. I have been having the worst day, and it’s—it’s rude of me to take it out on you.”

“Okay,” says Kara dumbly, because she’s not sure what to respond. Lena never apologizes. Ever. It’s about as rare as, well, Kara actually doing her chores on time. “Thanks?”

Lena bites her lip, glances away. “You’re welcome,” she says stiffly. And this time she leaves—leaves, and abandons the plate of food Kara left her on the edge of the table.

Kara looks down at her phone. There are ten texts waiting from Nia, and about double that of Venmo requests. But she can’t shake the feeling that she is forgetting something, and it’s more than a twenty dollar bill. “Wait,” she blurts out, “Lena. What—what does that mean? You were an asshole to me, and I was an asshole right back, so why are you apologizing?”

“Well, you are more than welcome to apologize too,” Lena says, pausing in the kitchen doorway. She has a quizzical expression on her face, a kind of raw confusion that Kara has never seen before. Without the sharp clenched jaw and the angry eyes, she’s…just a girl. A girl, with a nervous tic of wringing her fingers together. A girl, despite her guarded nature, who is gazing right back at Kara as if she has no right to.

“Do you want me to apologize to you?”

A beat. “Not really,” Lena says. “I don’t—want that. You’re right, you don’t know me. Or my family. We’re nothing to each other, and I can’t expect you to know how complicated my relationship with them is.”

“Still,” Kara says, and she scratches the back of her neck absentmindedly at the sudden flush of guilt that overtakes her. “I am sorry. It was rude of me to, um, say that. Like if your family is a bunch of serial killers, who am I to say you’re worse than that?”

Lena scrunches her nose in a manner that is sort of cute. “Serial killers? Really?”

Kara shrugs—aiming for casual—and really that just looks like attempting nonchalance when suddenly she’s consumed with thoughts about how pretty her roommate is. “Like you said,” she says, “I don’t know your family.”

And, surprisingly, all Lena does is smile. A real smile, the kind that Kara has never witnessed, barely soft and just kind enough. “They’re not,” she says, and unnecessarily clarifies, “serial killers.”

“That you know of,” Kara points out, and Lena’s cautious smile becomes something fuller. That is the only thing that gives Kara the courage to add, “So, now that we have covered the whole you’re not your family thing, are you really not going to have dinner? I cooked tofu for you and everything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Lena argues, because she is defensive to a fault. But she falters immediately after, and sighs again, albeit in a more mellowed tone. “What I meant to say is, I really don’t need you to keep cooking for me. I’m fine.”

“Well what if I want to cook for you?” Kara says, and that is her own fault: she is ready to argue to protect her (noble) intentions. “We don’t have to be friends, if it terrifies you that much—”

“It does not terrify me—”

“—but we can be friendly,” Kara offers, and it’s a testament to her newfound appreciation for her roommate that she manages to even make a sentence. “If you want.”

Lena tilts her head, considering, and this time when she smiles it is curious. “If you knew what I wanted, Kara Danvers,” she says, “your delicate sensibilities would blush to their roots.” And with that odd goodbye, she eventually takes her leave; however, she does take the plate of stir fry with her, so Kara guesses that means they’re on their way to being friendly, if anything.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Heartstopper prompt -

Ben makes a mean comment about Charlie’s body in recovery and he struggles with relapsing

first off, happy three months of heartstopper, and thank you so much for 2k followers!? i would love to do a celebration but don’t know how, so if anyone has any thoughts let me know <3 and for now i have this.

this took me way longer than initially planned because i initially wasn’t sure whether to write it or not—it’s a tone i haven’t written in a really long time, and i didn’t want to do it wrong! i can’t speak from experience in this case, but i tried to be as thoughtful and authentic as i believe alice is, and i hope i’ve done okay. but if i haven’t, especially in these instances, please feel free to tell me!

safe to say, warnings for depictions of charlie’s eating disorder and ocd, and thoughts and mentions of self-harm. this tone is more solitaire-like and less fluffy and dialogue-heavy like my other fics (at least for the first half). i want to clarify no actual self-harm occurs, but if you do read, please do so with care.

also, it’s over 6k. fair warning.

~^~

Charlie wasn’t that upset that his plan of moving to Higgs was trashed by the school burning down. Really. He meant what he’d said, about staying with Nick, and it being fine. The upside to it was that he was now already going to school with Tori and all of his friends, anyway. It also brought people back, like Elle, and Michael Holden, who Charlie could now probably say was also his friend. 

It also meant Ben Hope.

The return of his presence shouldn’t have been a big deal. Charlie was planning to switch to Higgs knowing Ben was there, because it still felt like the lesser evil. Now with the schools merging, Truham had to step up from its hellhole slightly. Now, at Truham, the people Charlie wanted to get away from suddenly had more interesting people to bother, and the people he’d wanted to escape to were all here. 

Plus Nick, and Tao, and Aled. 

But mostly Nick. 

It should have been an improvement, really. A better outcome than he’d even initially hoped for. Easier to handle all around. 

Maybe it was still the toxicness of Truham. Charlie had never given much thought to why Ben left (though he assumed it was likely at-least-in-part due to him), but he imagined having to come back would mess with your head, if you’d been trying to escape like he’d planned to. (Michael mostly confirmed this for him. Having Tori and ‘acquaintances like Nick Nelson’ around him now apparently helped. Charlie could understand that part.) 

He realised he’d just never fully thought about having to pass Ben in the hallways again, or to catch sight of him across the courtyard.

Or to have Ben looking back. 

“He knows better than to do anything more,” Nick had said, a little darkly (venomously) with his arm wrapped around Charlie at some point in the first week, when Ben had made the mistake of catching his eye. “If he says one word or comes within ten feet, I swear to God.”

Charlie had murmured platitudes and felt silently sick, but he’d believed Nick was right, for a while. 

But Truham was only so big, and it was impossible to ignore anyone forever—especially if they wanted to be noticed. 

And Ben had never been able to accept Charlie’s attempts to ignore him. 

It didn’t even seem intentional, at first. Charlie didn’t even think any of the boys surrounding the bench knew he was there, right within hearing distance. He’d thought he’d heard his name, in those quiet, scandalised, gossipy tones that had covered it in the past few months since he came back to school. Then he caught more of the conversation, and he knew he’d heard it, amidst claims of it’s not like he can hide it, just look at him and it doesn’t even make sense though and yeah, he hardly thinks he’s fat, does he? like, what’s the point?, and then he caught the more familiar voice, and all his attempts to block it out shattered. 

“I’d be more concerned about how Nelson’s brain works. Hugging a sack of ribs would be bad enough, but he looks like he’d snap in half if you bent him over. Bit of a weird turn on, innit?”

There were quiet, half-embarrassed snickers mingled with outright laughter and a few jeers. Ben’s self-satisfied smirk was unsurprising to Charlie even before Ben’s gaze swiveled directly to him. 

Charlie sucked in a breath, and his fight-or-flight instinct finally overrode the frozen mode he was in. He chose, obviously, to flee. It didn’t matter that he’d mean planning to meet Nick so they could go home together, because Nick didn’t know that. Charlie could spin on his heel and run to his bus, and no one would think anything was amiss. So he did. 

Objectively, Charlie knew what was starting to spin in his brain was wrong. Objectively, he knew Ben was an asshole and his words were meant to hurt Charlie and that didn’t mean they meant anything. Objectively, he knew Nick loved him and that Nick would give a list of ways he found Charlie attractive if asked, and he knew that Nick enjoyed hugs generally, but especially with Charlie. Objectively—realistically—he knew he wouldn’t actually snap in half very easily. 

Objectively, Charlie knew Ben’s words never really meant anything and Ben wasn’t in control of him. 

But, maybe because Charlie’s brain didn’t care about being objective, or maybe because it was Ben, it didn’t matter what meager rationalisations he could come up with. He suddenly felt he had no control over himself, precisely because he’d made control the centre of everything. 

It hadn’t actually gotten him anything he wanted, had it? 

He could take control, and he would take up less space, and he would have less needs, and he wouldn’t feel as bad when he was being annoying and pathetic and undeserving. That was what he’d always thought. That was how it always felt. 

But he had ended up, really, with even more needs. Taking up more spaces. Beyond annoying, pityingly pathetic, so far below undeserving. He was a fool, to think he was in charge of it. He’d made himself ugly, he’d made himself sickly, he’d made himself weak. That was what he’d done, with all his control. 

It had been too much, waiting for the harm to come from somewhere else, and it was always better, once he took matters into his own hands, once he admitted it was the most he deserved, that his lack of strength in ignoring everything going in should of course result in a little pain getting it out. 

It had been too much, holding all the ugliness on the inside. He’d meant to let it out. 

He hadn’t meant for it to cover him instead. 

That hadn’t been his choice, not really. 

He’d never been in control. 

And now he had even less strength than before. 

This is what he managed to think through on the bus, which meant by the time he got home, he’d turned to thinking, I can change that. I can make a different choice. I’m in control of what I do. 

He went straight to the kitchen when he got home, coat and shoes and bag abandoned in the hallway and mind racing and channeled and determined. He went for the cupboards. 

It wasn’t time to eat, but he wasn’t looking for anything on his plan, anyway. He grabbed the bread, and set it on the counter, and stared at it. 

Bread was filling. Bread was fattening. Bread didn’t have all that much of a flavour—he had a lot of choice in what he could put with it. Charlie had seen Nick wolf down slice after slice of bread, toasted or as a sandwich or both, in a matter of minutes, and it was both soft and sturdy, and so was Nick. And it wasn’t unhealthy. He would get some nutrients out of it, and it wasn’t greasy, or slimy, or overly chewy, or even that big, really. Toast, and sandwiches, and even soup paired with one mere slice had all filtered into his meal plans before. And this was brown bread, and that was healthier. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. 

But the thought of taking out a slice and doing anything with it, of biting into it, of it slipping down his throat and settling into his stomach, felt very, very far from right. 

That was fine. It wasn’t the only option. He could find something else, something a little healthier, something he liked a little more, that still held some weight, that he didn’t really need to take much of. He could find a few things, and then figure out which was best. 

He ended up emptying the cupboard, then moving to the next, then the next, until he had all his options lined out on the counters, vaguely organised by what seemed preferable, and what he’d get the most out of it. 

Maybe he should check the fridge. Maybe having something to pair them with would help. Maybe he could find something light, but nutritious, something that was bulky but didn’t feel like it, that he could eat on its own. Something cool, and smooth, that would slip down easy. 

Once most of the contents of the fridge were organised on the counter, he still hadn’t made up his mind. 

He tried the freezer. 

Then he realised he had everything organised by what seemed most beneficial and least undesirable, but it would be easier to decide if all those things were organised together rather than by cupboard, fridge, and freezer, and he made new stacks, and made those stacks into new bundles. 

His hands were wet and chilly from holding damp and frozen packaging, and that was transferring onto cardboard boxes and plastic-sheet coverings and making them soggy and slippy, which was making his stomach churn, which was making even the least undesirable options still seem not-at-all desirable. 

Like him, he supposed. 

He stared at what he’d done and curled his arms around his stomach, and they curled too far, so he had to drop them and cover his mouth to swallow the sob-whine-gag building in him, and the touch against his lips made his skin prickle, so he had to grip his hair and press in and pull to get himself together, and all he could think about was each tip of his finger pressing a hard point into his skull, bone against bone. 

Was that what Nick felt, every time he touched him? 

Hugging a sack of ribs would be bad enough. 

It made Charlie want to be sick. 

But quickly taking over from the self-pity was the fear. 

He’d basically emptied his kitchen. For nothing. Everything was out in the open, softening and heating and defrosting; being destroyed, for nothing. The thought of any of it in his stomach, laying and churning and rotting, was too much to even consider. 

And he couldn’t remember where everything went. 

He’d taken everything from everywhere. He���d kept moving them around. Everything that was now damp, and soggy, and softening, and defrosting, and rotting, and in the wrong place. How had it been organised? Where had the rest of his family, with their normal brains, had everything? He couldn’t remember. He wasn’t sure he paid enough attention to know in the first place. 

But Tori cooked. His parents cooked. His parents did the shopping. They would know. 

They would come back—any time now—and they would see, and they would know. Charlie had no way of preventing it. He had no way of covering it. He had absolutely no control over what they would think or say or do about it. 

He dragged his tightly clutched fists out to the ends of his hair, both so his hands were no longer in direct contact with his head and so the pull elicited a slight sting over his scalp. His hands shook. It bordered on too much. His pulse pounded. It was nowhere near enough. 

The thing was, his family wouldn’t care so much, if it meant something. If it could be taken as progress. If he took everything, something that was softening or defrosting or rotting and saved it; if he ate something. If it meant he’d at least get some bulk around his bones, like he’d been planning to. Like he’d convinced himself he was going to, that there was a chance that he could. 

It would be easier, he thought, to open up his skin and rearrange his flesh. It wasn’t the usual motivator, but it didn’t seem like too much of a stretch. It became all too tempting the more his hands shook and his scalp stung and his skin prickled, all of his body too sharp, too tight, too much. 

How could he put everything back right, in time? Where did everything go? How much could he get wrong without really making anyone notice? 

If he put everything back, it was further proof he’d failed without even trying. He’d made it this far—everything was set out, everything was organised, and in place, and ready. He’d done all the work to get this far. He couldn’t just put it back. He had to get rid of the evidence. He had to do it quickly. 

His skin was too tight and he wanted it off. 

Please, he thought. Please let me out. 

“Charlie?”

The front door shut over the tail-end of Nick’s call, and Charlie made a strangled noise, and leaped for the door. He threw his weight against it—all the little there was of it, and it was too much, the door banging and the footsteps in the hall coming to a stop. 

“Charlie?” Nick tried again. “You down here?”

The steps got closer, and Charlie swallowed another strangled sound, and snatched at the door handle as soon as it moved. “Don’t come in here,” he blurted. 

He was holding onto the handle with all his strength, but he was wasting it—it had gone utterly still. 

Nick’s voice was right there, now, but Charlie didn’t think that was what quietened it. “Charlie?”

Charlie held the handle tighter and stared at where the packet of bread was beginning to slip off the packets of ham and cheese. 

“What are you doing, Char?” Nick asked, and Charlie felt pressure on the handle again. Nick’s voice was right there, and it sounded like it was coming to Charlie through a dozen dams and an ocean of water. But that might’ve just been the wobble in it. “Charlie, let me in.”

“Don’t,” Charlie gasped, automatic again. His hands were already starting to sweat and slip, and it intensified the buzz along the rest of his skin. It wouldn’t ease, no matter how much he shifted and shuffled and shivered it out of him. “It’s—I’m fine. Just don’t. Leave me a while.”

The handle jiggled in his hand. He pressed himself against the door as he felt it starting to press back. 

Nick’s voice was even closer, and ragged. “No, Char. What are you doing? I’m not leaving. Can you let me in?”

Charlie shook his head—too sharp, too much—and it swam, and Nick couldn’t even see it. “Don’t,” he repeated, almost a sob. 

“Charlie,” Nick said—stronger now, even with the wobble. Always strong, and steady, and more than enough, and never too much. Charlie’s hands slackened. “Charlie, please let me—I’m coming in, okay? I need you to open the door, because I’m coming in. I really don’t want to hurt you, but I have to come in, so I need you to open the door. Please, Charlie.”

Charlie couldn’t. Couldn’t open the door. Couldn’t ignore the crack that snuck through the wobble in Nick’s voice. Couldn’t ignore Nick. Couldn’t let anyone see. Couldn’t tell Nick no. The bread slid from its perch. It toppled the carefully organised stack to its right. Charlie let go of the door and buried his hands back in his hair. Nick opened the door and came in. 

Charlie had already paced over to where the bread had fallen, had taken ham and biscuits and frozen pies with it and drawn something like a low, long whine from his throat. By the time Nick was in the room, he was backing against the island and beginning a slow slide to the floor. 

He could do nothing but watch Nick watch. He saw as Nick’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, as he looked over the mess Charlie had made, and the mess that Charlie himself was. As his face screwed back up into something frantic and fearful and his steps never faltered. “God, what have you done?” he asked, making it to Charlie as Charlie made it to the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said, no more than a panicked breath. Then, understanding, “I didn’t.”

He wasn’t sure Nick heard him. “Jesus, Charlie, you can’t do that,” Nick said, and he wasn’t angry. Charlie knew he wasn’t angry, that the most Nick ever got towards being angry with him were the occasional tired or hurt twists of frustration. It wasn’t anger that made Nick’s voice wobble and crack as he crouched down in front of Charlie, because Nick wasn’t angry, he was terrified. And that was worse. “Charlie, God, let me see.”

Charlie rapidly shook his head and brandished his hands at Nick, empty and clean and unharmed, and repeated, “I didn’t, I didn’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t, I’m really sorry.”

Some of the terror slipped away in favour of softness, and then Nick was there. His hands touched Charlie’s cheeks, his fingertips trails of warmth at the edge of Charlie’s hair where moments before Charlie’s own touch had felt like ice, so coldly sharp that it caused physical pain. 

“Hey, no s-word,” Nick chided—somewhat automatically, Charlie thought—as he let out a slow breath. “It’s okay, we’re okay. I didn’t mean to panic you. I’m sorry, it’s okay.”

Charlie released his hair and leaned his face into Nick’s hands, letting his own grip at the air instead. His breath came quick and rattling, but as Nick shushed him, some of the din in his head quietened. “I didn’t,” Charlie repeated, unable, apparently, to say anything else. In a whisper, he added, “I want to.”

Nick’s face shuttered again, and though Charlie was expecting it, he hated himself for it. But Nick only took another slow breath, and briefly gripped Charlie’s cheeks harder. Charlie finally settled his hands on Nick’s biceps as his eyes watered, and Nick took the invitation and wrapped him up in a tight hold. 

“Did something happen?” Nick asked softly, voice muffled from where his mouth was pressed to Charlie’s hair and Charlie’s ear was pressed to Nick’s chest. Charlie clutched him more tightly, and felt him sigh after a moment’s silence. “You’re safe, Char. I’ve got you now.”

Charlie swallowed the sob building in him. Lingering panic still prickled all over. His body buzzed with the familiar sensation of wrongness. Part of him wanted to peel himself out of Nick’s arms and shove him away. To hide, to finish what he’d been doing, to continue tearing himself apart, piece by piece. He shoved that away instead. 

It was weak. But he didn’t have to be strong. He didn’t have to fight, because he was safe, and he could fall down, because Nick would hold him up. 

Because Nick was strong. Because he was healthy, and normal. 

“I can’t remember where they go,” Charlie said, his voice cracking this time. “I can’t put them back properly.” 

A brief pause, then an, “Oh.” Charlie felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head. “It’ll be okay.”

Suddenly, Charlie was glad it was Nick. It didn’t matter that an hour ago he’d turned tail to avoid seeing Nick, or that thirty minutes ago he would have done anything to prevent Nick from seeing him. It only mattered that it wasn’t worse. Charlie wasn’t sure what his mother would have said or done, if she’d been the one to find him in this state, and he honestly didn’t want to ponder on it—tried not to, lest it sent him into a new panic.

But he knew exactly what it was like to do that to Tori. 

His annoying big sister, the only other person in the world who was never truly angry with him, the only person in the world whose love Charlie didn’t doubt for a second. Tori, who Charlie could never be angry with and who he loved unconditionally, who took all of Charlie’s pain atop her own and never once blamed him for it. 

Tori, who Charlie had seen hurting just as much, and who he only ever managed to hurt more. 

God, where was Oliver? How careless could Charlie still be? 

“I need to fix it,” Charlie said, urgent now. “I don’t want them to—they can’t—“

Charlie broke off, and Nick held him tighter, and Charlie was so glad it was Nick. 

“You don’t want them to know,” Nick finished for him. He sighed again, a breath in Charlie’s ear with their temples touching. Nick pressed against him a little harder, then rolled his head gently, so they were forehead to forehead. “I think it would be better if they did, but I won’t be the one to tell them. You need to call Geoff, though.”

Charlie’s stomach churned again, both with how frustrated and nervous the mere thought made him and with how unfailingly understanding and kind Nick was. So strong and still so soft. 

What attracted him to Charlie, who was neither? 

“I will,” he managed, in response to Nick’s gentle order. He couldn’t look at him, this close, but he could feel it when Nick nodded in response, and that was almost better. 

“Alright,” Nick said, giving Charlie one more gentle squeeze before slowly shifting away and getting to his feet. “We need to get everything back in the freezer, first, then. Actually, we can do dinner as we go. What’s on your plan tonight, again?”

Now Charlie stared up at him. The buzz along his skin bordered on debilitating as it spread into his ears. Nick was understanding. Nick knew him better than anyone. He thought Nick understood. “Nick,” he choked. “It’s not—I can’t.”

Nick was already shaking his head, looking down at Charlie, still without a hint of anger or pity. “I’m not making you do anything, Char, promise. But it’s been helping, sticking to the plan. Right? So I’m just going to do that, okay?”

Nick was right. Charlie knew that. The plan had been helping. Even if he couldn’t always manage to go through with it, sticking to it held some element of comfort—some small sense of strength. It wouldn’t help to disrupt it. 

But there was a pressure that came with it that Charlie couldn’t always handle. Now felt like one of those times. 

“I can’t sit and do that,” he whispered. “That’ll upset them even more, and—”

“You don’t have to,” Nick promised. “We’re going to hang out in your room. And I’ll bring it up, and you can have some if you want to, or don’t. And you can tell me what‘s up, or not. Is that…does that sound manageable?”

Charlie caught on. He could see it, now, lingering on the outskirts of Nick’s puffed chest and soft smiles. His hands fidgeted at his sides, curling and fluttering and tapping, and his wide eyes remained worried where they gazed down at Charlie. Nick couldn’t fix this. They’d both always known that. Charlie had always known that this frustrated Nick more than him. Nick could only do—well, what he could. 

Even if that was just sticking to the plan. 

Charlie nodded, and the ringing in his ears receded as relief rounded Nick’s shoulders. 

“Okay,” Nick said, with a bit more surety. “Then this stuff really needs to go back in the freezer, and you need to get chatting to Geoff.”

It could have felt pushy, and like too much of an order, but all Charlie could notice was how Nick didn’t touch any of his carefully arranged food until he’d picked himself up and left the room. It was a more generous compromise than he deserved. 

Especially given he didn’t actually chat to Geoff. He pulled out his phone and planned to, but the more he thought about hitting the call button, the more his hands shook. He ended up tapping the message icon instead, which was a compromise he hoped Nick would be okay with. 

Hi, Geoff. I wanted to know if I could maybe make an earlier appointment than planned? 

This was better—kinder—than simply ringing his therapist out of the blue, anyway. The man had his own life, and while he told Charlie he could call him at any time if it was ever necessary, Charlie knew no one could be available twenty-four-seven. Surely, Nick would see the logic in this as well. There was a chance Geoff wouldn’t even reply to him this evening. 

His phone buzzed in less than a minute, but that slim chance had existed. 

Of course, Charlie. When were you thinking? I’m free for you to give me a call now if you feel it’s in any way urgent. 

Charlie blew out a breath, shaking his head slightly. But that alone made him feel a little better. 

No, that’s okay. Nick’s here now. It’s not that urgent. 

Tomorrow, then? I have a slot right after you’d be finished up with school. 

That works. Thank you.

Call me before then if you need to! 

A small smile tweaked at Charlie’s lips as another breath escaped him, just as Nick nudged through the door with two plates in hand. He paused at the sight of Charlie with his phone still in hand, a tentative smile taking over his own face. “Did you talk to him?”

Charlie hesitated, and eventually just turned his phone around to show Nick. “I can’t ring, but, I’m going to see him tomorrow?”

Nick quickly read over the messages—softening, likely at the sight of his own name—and nodded his acceptance, though a small furrow formed in his brow. “Will you be okay until then? Is it…I mean, you don’t have to go to school tomorrow.”

“I should.” Charlie shook his head. “I will. It’s not that bad, honestly.”

Nick tucked one of the plates on a free spot on Charlie’s desk, where it became mostly unnoticeable. He settled onto Charlie’s bed with the other on his lap and a concerned, disbelieving look. 

Charlie knew it would slip right off his face if he just sat down, picked one thing off the plate, and took a single bite. 

He couldn’t, though. 

So he sat down and curled his arms around one of Nick’s, and tucked his face against Nick’s shoulder. “I’ll have to tell my parents something, since I’ve moved my appointment.”

Nick relaxed minutely. “Yeah. Well, probably better. I wasn’t as lost as I could’ve been, but I’d say I still made a right mess of your kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Charlie whispered back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He was jostled by Nick’s shrug. “Well, even I don’t want to eat defrosted chicken, so yes, I definitely did.”

Charlie picked his head up enough to see Nick smiling at him, and he couldn’t resist covering those lips with his own. 

Something in him unraveled when Nick kissed him back. Something about the way Nick instinctively cupped Charlie’s cheek and parted his lips, and how he managed to set his plate safely aside without disconnecting from Charlie or opening his eyes. Something in the soft, hitched noise he made when Charlie wove a hand into his hair, and how he kissed Charlie a little more thoroughly in response. 

Charlie responded in kind and then some. Even with his skin buzzing and his ears ringing and his stomach still tumbling, he kissed Nick hungrily. It was the only way he could ever describe it. This was sustenance his brain never fought against. 

Then he was thinking sack of ribs and bone against bone and turn-on, and kissing Nick harder, and Nick was pulling back. 

“Charlie, take a breath,” Nick said softly, cupping Charlie’s face in his hands. 

Charlie’s heart fell. “You don’t want to kiss me.” 

Stupid, stupid idiot. Can you honestly blame him?

Nick smiled, and it wasn’t sad or pitying. It was bright and bashful and unbearably fond, that heartstopping half-tilt which was accompanied by a faint blush. “I always want to kiss you,” he said simply; not a reassurance, but an admittance. He brushed back Charlie’s curls and proved his point by kissing Charlie’s forehead, his cheeks, and his lips, brief but lingering, and Charlie’s heart floated back into place. “But right now I want you to be okay more.” 

His smile softened, and his thumb stroked over Charlie’s cheek, and Charlie hiccuped and hid himself in Nick’s chest. Nick adjusted instantly, wrapping his arms around Charlie and petting through his hair. 

“I’d prefer to kiss you when you actually want to kiss me,” Nick added, tentatively. “Like, for real, I mean. And not for…not to…”

“I always want to kiss you,” Charlie answered, fast and forceful, because he suddenly realised. And he could not let Nick think anything like that. “I love kissing you, because I love you.”

Nick’s hand rubbed broadly down his back, big and warm and strong, and Charlie was caught between melting under the touch and curling away. “Yeah. Me too.” He kissed the top of Charlie’s head, and wrapped his arms around him fully again. “So much.”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched slightly. “You’re right, though. I shouldn’t be kissing you to make myself feel better. Even though it always does make me feel better.”

“Magic kisses,” Nick readily agreed, his chin ruffling Charlie’s hair as he nodded. 

“And I really shouldn’t be when you don’t want to.”

Nick’s arms tightened, and Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. “I really always want to, Char. Like, probably more than is actually healthy. I just…don’t like not being sure it’s for the right reasons. The thought of doing anything like that to you…I just—well, sometimes a hug just feels better. Just like this.”

“But it can’t feel good. Hugging me,” Charlie whispered. 

“What?” Nick sounded baffled, but Charlie couldn’t explain. He didn’t think he would have to, and wasn’t prepared. Eventually, Nick accepted the silence and answered for himself. “Charlie, hugging you is essentially my favourite thing to do. I would never stop hugging you for the rest of my life if that was in any way practical. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“But…me,” Charlie tried. “Don’t I feel…isn’t it like…” He groaned in frustation, and tried starting from scratch. “Your hugs are the best thing ever because they’re big, and warm, and strong, but I’m just…I’m not any of those things. I don’t even know how this is comfortable, for you.”

There was a drawn-out pause, in which Charlie waited for Nick to say, Actually, you have a point, and let him go, but then Nick let out a punched-sounding breath. “Charlie. It’s not because—you think—your body—you think it’s uncomfortable to hug you?”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched a little higher, and Nick gave another of those breaths, and squeezed Charlie even tighter. 

“I can promise you you’re completely wrong. That’s not how it works at all. You’re incredibly cud—cuddleable?—huggable. And we fit perfectly. Do you not think so?”

Of course, Charlie thought, instantly. Dreamily, all the time.

But what he said was, “It makes you sad, though.”

“What?”

Charlie wasn’t going to pretend Nick’s question was because he hadn’t heard the whispered concern. The utter bafflement had returned to Nick’s tone. Charlie was sure it was about to get worse, once he tried to explain. “You always hold me tighter midway through.”

“You think I don’t enjoy hugging you, because every time I do, I always hug you tighter?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Charlie said. 

“I’m not!” Nick squeezed him again, and he truly didn’t sound like he was joking. “I promise I’m not. I’m trying to understand, but I think it’s you who needs to do that. I mean, just listen to what you’re saying, Char.”

Charlie insisted, “You know what I’m trying to say, though.”

“I think I do. I think your brain is doing that thing where it thinks itself in circles and tells you things that are wrong. Am I right?”

Charlie’s shoulders slumped, and Nick rubbed his back again. 

“I thought so,” Nick murmured. “I know I can’t stop it, but I promise I won’t stop reminding you what’s true.”

“And what’s that?” Charlie prodded, sounding as small as he felt. 

Nick was more prepared. “I love you, and I always want to kiss you because I fancy you more than I’ve ever fancied anybody, and hugging you is so inarguably my favourite thing that I would gladly never stop. And that all I want is for you to be healthy and safe and as happy as you can be, because I care about you and you deserve it, more than anything.”

Charlie’s eyes watered again, and automatically, in some awe, he answered, “So do you. I love you too.”

“Well, that works out then, ‘cause I’m never safer or happier than when I’m with you.”

If possible, Charlie’s awe expanded. “You feel safe with me?” 

“Yeah,” Nick said, as if it was obvious. “Ever since I’ve known you. How do you think I realised I loved you so much? Everything’s so much easier with you than it is with anyone else.”

The tears in Charlie’s eyes spilled over. “Oh.”

Nick hummed, and pressed another kiss to the top of Charlie’s head, and gave Charlie another squeeze. Charlie tried to reconcile this information with what his brain had been telling him an hour prior. He knew that he was safe with Nick—no one, not even Tori, was as comfortable and easy for Charlie to simply be with as Nick. Nick had been there to take care of Charlie ever since they met; and Charlie knew he hadn’t made it easy. It would’ve been impossible for Charlie not to feel safe with him. To feel that Nick was steady and supportive and strong enough to make Charlie safe. 

And Charlie knew that he would do absolutely anything for Nick. Regardless of his own state, he would try to take care of Nick in whatever way possible, any time it was needed. And he knew that he had been a comfort for Nick, more than once, for numerous different reasons. But it was also impossible to think Nick needed him as much as he needed Nick. That, with all his flaws and faults, he could incite those same feelings in response. 

That he wasn’t just dragging Nick, who was too nice for his own good, along on his miserable ride. 

“So you’re not—you don’t…hold back because it makes you sad or freaks you out or—or grosses you out and makes you feel like—like you’ll break me, or something—”

“Char,” Nick interrupted, sounding distraught. “Do I make you feel like that? Because that’s not what I think at all—you’re the strongest person I know, like, that’s why I admire you so much, and I really never thought I was treating you like—”

Charlie finally mustered the will to pull away and look up at Nick. He put his hand on Nick‘s chest, and felt grateful that Nick kept him in his hold. “You don’t. You’re right. It’s not…I guess, this isn’t really about you? But it made me think…I don’t know.”

Nick shook his head. “You don’t have to explain.” I’m used to it, Charlie expected him to add. But—of course—he didn’t. “Of course, I’d like you to, if you want, but I know it usually isn’t something you can really express, and that’s okay. You don’t owe me anything, and especially not reassurance, or anything like that. I just want to know how I can help. If there’s any way I can, that is. And I hope it isn’t—I hope I haven’t done something to trigger it. I honestly…I can’t tell you how sorry I am if I did.”

“No, you didn’t, I promise.” Charlie curled his hand in Nick’s shirt and looked down again. “Honestly, it wasn’t something I was even aware upset me until today—” Charlie’s mouth clicked shut. 

But Nick’s brow had already furrowed into his concerned, listening face, and he was giving an encouraging nod and gently prodding, “What happened today?”

Charlie’s hand curled tighter. “Uhm.”

“Hey.” Nick sat up straighter, jostling Charlie where he was still perched in his lap. He kept one hand on the small of Charlie’s back and raised the other to cup Charlie’s cheek. “What happened? Did someone say something?”

“I…yeah. Well, not really? I…” Charlie blew out a breath. “I sort of, just, overhead Ben?”

Nick’s gaze darkened instantly. Charlie felt him tense, saw his jaw twitch, but Nick’s touch on him remained soft and careful. “What did he say?” 

Charlie’s cheeks burned. “I really don’t want to repeat it,” he mumbled. 

“I’m going to kill him.” 

“Then you’ll be in prison, and what will I do?” Charlie pointed out, feeling a little lighter in the face of Nick’s darkness—retaining their constant balance. 

“You don’t think I’d get away with it?” Nick demanded. 

Charlie released his shirt and reached up to squish his cheeks. “I think you’re much better than that to begin with.”

“And with much better kisses,” Nick said, through squished lips. 

Charlie leaned in to kiss them and agreed, “So much better.”

“Magical?”

“Maybe.”

Nick made an outraged noise and dragged Charlie closer. There was a grin fighting its way onto his face. “That’s better,” he said softly. “Do you feel a little less stressed now?”

Charlie tucked his temple against Nick’s and catalogued himself. The distress was far from gone, but his skin didn’t feel so tight, his muscles weren’t so tense, and his stomach felt still. “Yeah,” he decided. “But, not enough that I can…”

“Yeah,” Nick said, kissing his cheek. “Okay. Is there anything else I can do?”

Charlie breathed, and said, “Hold me tighter?”

[mercy-burning]

Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

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[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Accepting it

Ship: ScareCroc

Ko-Fi Commission

First Person || Croc’s perspective

TW: Internalized Homophobia (first time writing this, please go easy on me)

Word Count: 933

__________________________________________

Jonathan would leave for weeks at a time to do god knows what. That’s a lie. I know what he’s doing. He’s working. I don’t mind that, usually. However it’s been happening more and more frequently. It’s not that I couldn’t help him, but he never asks and just assumes me, the big brute isn’t capable of working around fragile chemicals.

I can be very careful if I want to, I’ve had to do it with social situations my whole life. The man with a scary skin condition can’t act like a monster or that’s all people see, unfortunately.

These thoughts have been plaguing me during his absence. I miss him. I miss what we could be doing together. I only want to see him and me as a team, and it’s bothersome that he doesn’t see it. As I thought more about it, the front door opened. It was him.

He didn’t say a word as he walked in, looking rather tired from his exploits. Did he run into the big bat? I thought about asking, but I just sufficed with a “You okay, Jonathan?”

He looked me in the eyes and signed that long sigh that was a sign of defeat. I stood up as the wood floor creaked beneath my weight and walked over to him.

“It’s alright, why don’t you relax in your favorite chair and I will get you some tea”

Jonathan nodded and literally collapsed into the lazy boy with all the weight that the straw man had. He grumbled and I knew he was going to complain about his night, so I quickly got the tea and sat it next to him.

I sat in the couch next to Jonathan and waited for him to speak

“Are we really going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?” I asked

“Hiding like this”

“Isn’t that what we do as rogues? Hide and wait to strike?”

“No, not that! I’m--” he stopped, I assume taking his time to word his frustrations “I’m talking about us, Waylon.”

Us? I know where this is going “We’ve been doing this for a year, maybe the work is starting to wear on you. You do know I can help”

“You can’t help how I feel!” Jonathan snapped

“What do you feel, then? Crane.” I pull out his last name when I want a serious response from him and he knows that.

Jonathan put his hand at the nose of his glasses, signed again and this time, it felt like he was holding something in that he was afraid to say. Afraid. Ironic for someone who calls himself the King of Fear.

“I’m not going to apologize for getting worked up. I can’t keep this going, Waylon. I was raised to think I was wrong, we are wrong. They called me a “queer fellow” when I used to teach! My fellow professors, not just the students! I thought i belonged there, but clearly I was too DIFFERENT”

“Are you saying you don’t want me? Are you really going to fall for the religious rhetoric you were raised to believe is law?” I spoke

Jonathan breathed another sign sternly though his nose

“You’re too important to me to give up”

“Then you should trust me.”

“I do trust you”

“Not aroudn your chemicals, apparently.”

Jonathan looked me in the eye with concern “Is THAT your worry? Have you seen my lab? ts a mess of chemicals, if I didn’t want you in there, I would’ve told you!”

“Are you saying you want me to help or not?”

“I’m not saying you can’t help, I’m saying you have better things to spend your skills on, imagine what I’d be without your muscle or almost super human knowledge of Gotham’s infrastructure! You’ve gotten us out of more than one pinch”

If I could blush in this body, I would have. Clearly this man cares, even if he can’t quite accept himself. Perhaps all those jobs where a way to keep him busy from the intrusive thoughts of his mind.

“You care, I know that. But, do you accept us, as what we are?”

“Jonathan looked away “It’s hard when you’ve been labeled as wrong by everyone around you:”

“Crane, you and I know that I understand that VERY well” I said pointing to my  scaled skin

“I do....” he paused for what seemed like forever “Love you”

“I’m old, this has been drilled into my for 55 years. How can you change years of hatred into something positive?”

I gently grabbed his chin and made him look at me.

“It was ”drilled” into me that I’m a monster and yet I found a way to accept myself AND you. I know that someone such as the great King of Fear  eventually came to accept his lanky body. A body I enjoy resting against my scales on long nights. If he can do that, he can accept that he’s a “queer fellow” and he can own it just has he does his skinny bones”

Jonathan looked at me not in hatred, but like a sick puppy

“You accept me?”

I smiled at let out a boisterous laugh “Of course! You know you belong to me, and in my life”

Jonathan’s face looked peaceful for brief moment, as he took in what I said

“Waylon, you’ve earned peach pie tonight” he said softly

“Now THAT’S what I’m talking about! Cut two slices! One for each of us”

He chuckled and left to the kitchen. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time we had this conversations, but I will count tonight as a victory.

[scumbagg]

NSFT/18+

Space Ghost Coast to Coast

A/N: I purely wrote this as Bell instead of Y/N since I can’t bring myself to write Y/N fics 😂 

I recently finished MW2 and needed some Ghost food to heal my broken heart after the traumatic betrayal I witnessed. Also maybe a bit of DadPrice! giving a lecture. Here goes nothing..

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Bell

Word count: 3252

Warnings: smut, injury (gunshot), blood, swearing.

“Eyes up, scouts patrolling up ahead.”

Price’s voice in your earpiece came through at the exact moment the two men appeared in your line of vision 40 metres in front of you.

“Dropped him.”

Aiming your sniper, the guard trailing slightly behind fell to the ground before you’d even had time to place your finger on the trigger. Taking aim at the other man’s head, your rifle made almost no sound as you took him out a second later.

“Nice shot. Move up.”

“Thanks.” You whispered back. You turned back for a moment to the place you knew Price was laying hidden almost 90 metres behind you.

“Move, Bell. We won’t have much time before more patrols come along and find those bodies.” Soap’s whispered voice now, also in your earpiece - but you knew he was somewhere to the right of you hidden in the long grass. You crawled quietly through the grass. You heard the brush whispering slightly either side of you as the bodies of Soap and Ghost moved up to flank with you.

“Hold up, two more tangoes patrolling the fence line.” Price murmured a moment later. “Take ‘em out, or let ‘em move on. Your call Bell”

“No stragglers.” You whispered back. You heard the pops from Ghost’s and Soap’s suppressed guns as they took out the two guards ahead.

“Good call.” Price confirmed. “Can’t see anymore inbound. You’re in the clear. House up ahead is empty. We’ll regroup inside.”

“Roger.”

Standing up, you scanned the area out of precaution for more enemies. Satisfied, you nodded to the other two men to move up. The three of you passed the fence line and had almost made it to the back door of the house when it happened.

You heard it before you felt it. The sound of a pistol being fired in your direction had you spinning to face the direction it came from, when suddenly you felt white hot pain erupt in your left shoulder. Dropping to the ground, the sound was over almost as quickly as it started, but your eyesight went black as you squeezed your eyes shut in pain and gripped your shoulder as blood poured through your fingers.

“Bell!” The scream came from within your earpiece at the same time Ghost shouted your name, making your ear throb in pain. You hardly noticed with the burning coming from your shoulder, but you still flinched.

“What the fuck was that?!” You gritted through your teeth.

“One of the guards back there wasn’t as dead as we thought. He fucking is now. Don’t worry darlin’, you’re gonna be alright.” Ghost pried your hand away from your shoulder and replace them with his own. “Soap, get me the medi-kit from your pack, quick!”

“Darlin’?!” Soap laughed as he handed Ghost the pack. Frowning, he looked down at the two of you.

“He’s taking the piss.. it’s an inside joke.. had to be there.” You said through gritted teeth, glaring into Ghost’s glasses. Ghost said nothing as he worked on stopping the bleeding, but the minimal supplies in the kit weren’t doing much.

“Fuck!” Ghost said in a panicked voice. You were starting to feel drowsy, and the sight of all the blood was making you queasy. You could feel your head starting to spin, threatening to send you into unconsciousness.

“Ghost, she’s gonna be fine. Look, the bullet went straight through.” Soap said calmly, pointing at the bullet lodged in the brick in the wall just behind where you’d been standing. “It’s a clean wound, it’ll just need stitches.”

“Fine. We’ve gotta get her back ASAP. I’ll take her, you and Price grab the intel.”

“No, I’ll take her.” Price came into view, rifle slung over his back. “You’re the one that’s better with technology, you’ll get the intel quicker from the computer. Someone’s bound to have heard those gunshots, we’re sure to have company soon. C’mon Bell.” Price hoisted you up under your uninjured arm, replacing Ghost’s hands with one of his. Stumbling, you gripped Price’s arm for support. Looking over at Ghost, you noticed his eyes tighten behind his sunglasses, but he nodded in assent.

“Let’s get moving,” Price commanded, nodding at the other two. “Soap, Ghost, I’ll send for another chopper to pick you up. See you boys at home.”

*****

  Fourteen stitches and a bandaged shoulder later, the infirmary staff finally let you leave. Pushing open the exit door to the outside, you found Price leaning against a jeep waiting for you.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked suspiciously.

“Thought I’d give you a ride home. It’s a bit of a far walk and I assumed you’d be too hopped up on pain killers to drive yourself.” He replied, opening the passenger door courteously.

“Oh… thanks.” You said, taken aback by the display of kindness. It’s not that Captain Price was unkind; he’d just never shown any outward kindness outside of the field. You were surprised that he’d thought to even come back for you.

The two of you drove in silence for a few moments, before the question you were burning to ask broke its way out of your control.

“Did the other two make it back okay?” You tried to sound casual, but your insides were turning with worry.

“Yeah, they got back about an hour ago, no issues.” Price answered, concentrating on the road.

“And the intel?”

‘Acquired.” Price gruffed.

“Hmm, very good.” You stared straight ahead, watching the sun settle in the west. This was the first time in a non-formal environment you’d ever spent a moment alone with the Captain, and you weren’t sure how to make small talk with him. You sat in silence as Price drove you through the city. You wondered how he knew where you lived when it occurred to you that being a member of his team, he’d know where everyone lived. Not that you spent much time in your own house these nights. You thought back to a few nights ago...

The sound of Price clearing his throat awkwardly pulled you out of your reverie. Looking over at him, you watched as he shifted in his seat and waited for him to speak.

“What is it?”

Price sighed. “Look, I really don’t want to have this conversation. But I’ve told him the same thing I’m telling you now. This is one of the best task forces I’ve ever worked with, and I don’t want anything fucking that up. Understood?”

You felt your calm composure slip through the cracks as your eyes widened in panic. You glanced over to see him still staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a hard line.

“Wait, you know about-”

“Of course I fucking know.” Price snapped, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. Shit, so maybe he did know where you actually slept after all. “I know everything that goes on in my team. Look,” he said calmly. “I don’t give a fuck what you get up to in your spare time. It’s like I told him, I’m not going to report it. It’s not been an issue yet. Just don’t let it affect you on the job.”

“I haven’t! I’ve been so careful about trying to keep it professional while we’re on a mission!” Your heart raced at the fact you had been caught out.

“I know you have, Bell. But that man is head over heels for you, in case you hadn’t realised. I’m concerned he’ll let his feelings for you get in the way of the job. Look at today – he’s the best man on our team for tech, and he was willing to throw the whole job, just out of pure panic for you.” Price sighed again. “I’m not sending either of you away. I just needed to remind you of the main reason we are here. If you two can’t handle that, I’ll be forced to find someone to take your place on the team.”

“Does anyone else know?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t think so, but if Simon continues on the way he was today, I doubt it’ll be long until Soap catches on.” Price grimaced, then looked over at you. “Darlin’,” he grinned.

“Ughhh,” you groaned as Price pulled up outside what you now realised wasn’t your house. “I can’t believe he let that slip out.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, careful not to move too much that it pulled at your stitches. Opening your door, you looked back at Price. “Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it.”

Price smiled and nodded in response. “Don’t be too harsh on him about today,” he said, looking over your shoulder as you heard the front door open behind you. You closed the door and waved as the jeep drove away.

*****

  All your anxiety from the conversation with Price suddenly turned to irritation as you turned to face the man in the doorway. You stormed towards him, your uninjured shoulder hitting his lower abdomen as you barged your way past him into the hallway.

“Bell-” he began.

“Get out of my way, Simon. I need a fucking shower.” You snapped irritably.

“Here, let me help-”

“No.”

“Bell!” Simon pleaded.

“What the fuck was that today?!” You snarled. “You might as well just fucking announce to the whole place that we’re together!” You began climbing the stairs towards the bathroom, but stopped halfway there. Staying angry wasn’t one of your strong suits, and seeing him standing pleadingly in the hallway washed away your irritation. “Look,” you sighed heavily, coming back down the stairs so you were eye level with him. “I just had the lecture of a lifetime from Price. I can’t lose what we have here Simon, and he warned if we couldn’t keep it professional out there, then one of us would be replaced.” You stepped towards him, reaching for him in both apology and forgiveness. You placed a hand on his masked jaw, your thumb stroking along his hard cheekbone.

“I’m sorry for today,” he said apologetically, leaning his cheek into your hand. “Seeing you injured and in pain, all that blood… I panicked.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed. Smiling up at him, you smacked his arm playfully. “You’re silly, you know that right. Even I knew it wasn’t bad, and you’ve seen way more injuries than I have. I can’t imagine how you would’ve been if Soap hadn’t been there to pull your head in.”

Simon wrapped his arm around your head, resting his hand at the base of your skull and pulled you in for a hug. You lifted your other arm to place it around his waist and winced. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“How are you feeling anyway, darlin’?” He stepped back to survey you.

“Rubbish. These pain killers are doing their job, but I feel disgusting. I really do need a shower.” You looked over your shoulder towards the bathroom. “I uh... might need a hand actually,” you said awkwardly, wondering how you were going to manage without getting your stitches wet. Surprisingly, this was your first major injury, given your line of work.

“C’mon,” he said, pulling you towards the bathroom.

 Simon turned on the shower and helped you undress, helping remove your shoes, pants and underwear, aware of your fresh wound as he carefully pulled the shirt from your arms and over your head. His eyes filled with remorse as they fell on your injured shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he whispered. “That guy that shot you… that’s the one I took down. I didn’t know he wasn’t dead.” He looked away sadly.

“Hey,” you grabbed his chin gently and turned his head so he was looking you squarely in the eyes. “It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself, no one else does. I’m fine.”

“But what if it had been worse? What if that bullet had landed here?” Simon touched your forehead. “Or here,” he said, touching the base of your throat. “What if-”

“Don’t think about it,” you said firmly, pulling his hand from your neck. “Simon, I said I’m fine.” Still holding his hand, you pulled it up to your lips. “There is one thing I am annoyed about, though,” you smirked as you kissed his fingers.

Simon looked at you quizzically. “Why am I the only one naked right now? Surely you’re not gonna shower in your clothes.” You stepped inside the shower, letting the water run over your head, careful to avoid letting it hit your left shoulder.

Simon’s eyes squinted, and you knew he was smirking behind his mask as he removed the rest of his gear and dumped it on the ground next to yours. As always, his mask was the very last thing he removed. No matter how comfortable Simon was with you, and no matter how many times you’d seen him without it, there were certain insecurities that were too deeply ingrained. The last piece of Ghost removed, and only Simon stood in front of you.

Simon stepped in the large shower with you. Grabbing a face washer and pouring body wash on it, he gently helped scrub off the dried blood that had made its way down your torso. He shampooed, conditioned and brushed your hair, knowing you couldn’t lift your arm to wash any dried blood that had knotted in there. Once you were clean, you grabbed the other face wash and carefully, with your good arm, moved it across his chest and abdomen. He watched as you gently made circles on his large shoulders and down his muscular arms.

You wrapped your good arm around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Don’t be too long,” you smiled as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel.

Walking to the dresser, you pulled out some clothes and attempted to get dressed but you couldn’t pull the shirt over your head. You sighed, and sat on the bed resignedly, still in your towel. You heard the shower stop running, and Simon stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Here,” you beckoned, reaching for him. Simon came to stand in front of you, standing in between your legs. You leaned forward and kissed his stomach, feeling the warm skin beneath your lips raise with goose bumps. You tugged on his arm, pulling him down towards the ground. He knelt, still between your legs, and leaned forward to bury his face in your neck. Almost a whole foot of height difference between the two of you, yet you were the only person who could bring Simon Riley to his knees.

Your good arm snaked its way around his broad back, tracing his spine, down to his hips to the edge of the towel. You heard Simon’s breath quicken, still lightly kissing your neck, when your fingers made their way around to the front of his towel and tugged it loose, letting it fall to the floor.

You lightly brushed your fingers down his stomach and over his navel, until you reached the base of his shaft. You felt Simon’s breath hitch as you gripped it in both hands.

“Bell..” he groaned.

“Mmm?”

He brought his mouth round to yours, kissing you deeply. His mouth trailed back along your jaw to your ear. “Why am I the only one that’s naked?” You felt his smirk against your cheek as he repeated your line back to you.

“Maybe you should fix that,” you whispered back.

Simon wasted no time in removing your towel and throwing it across the other side of the room. You laid back on the bed as he trailed kisses down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and thumbing circles around the other. Your hands threaded themselves through his thick hair as you massaged his head. Simon’s hands followed his head as he made his way down your stomach and down your navel, his hands gliding over your hips and massaging up and down your thighs.

You threw your head back and moaned in pleasure as he buried his face between your legs, his mouth sucking and licking at your clit. You gasped as you felt one of Simon’s fingers enter you, then two, and he slowly picked up a rhythm as his mouth and fingers worked in synch. You could feel your walls begin to tighten as you got closer to your orgasm.

“Stop,” you gasped. Simon looked up quickly.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly.

“Not at all,” you tugged at his arm so he pulled himself so he was hovered above you. “I need you in me right now,” you purred as you pulled his head down, his lips crashing to meet yours.

You reached down and grabbed his length firmly, stroking it. Simon’s eyes glazed over with lust as he moved his head back to your neck. Guiding him, you positioned him at your entrance.

“You sure?” he asked huskily. You knew he was teasing. He knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes,” you breathed.

You both groaned with pleasure as he entered you, filling and stretching you out. Simon set a slow pace at first, until he was sure you had adjusted to him, then quickened the pace. His hands moved to your waist as he slammed into you, holding you in place so you didn’t move around too much. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and you gripped his forearms, lost in pleasure.

Simon leaned forward and your legs dropped to his waist. He took one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned in ecstasy as he hit the sweet spot inside of you.

“Simon.. I think I’m gonna-” you gasped.

Still inside of you, Simon pulled you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. “Not yet, you’re not.”

“Owwwww!” You winced as the action pulled tightly at your left shoulder.

“Fuck! Sorry! You okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” you moaned as you picked up the pace again. You brought your legs either side of his waist and pulled his hands to your breasts as you lowered yourself onto him, taking him completely. Now in control, you could feel every movement and every angle as you took him deep inside you.

Simon gripped your breasts firmly as he felt your walls begin to tighten. “C’mon, darlin’,” he groaned. “I’m not far off, myself.”

“I’m gonna come,” you whined. You rocked your hips back and forth and threw your head back as your walls clenched around him. You rode your orgasm out, and heard Simon groan as his own orgasm erupted into you. You fell on top of him, exhausted and satisfied.

Simon gently rolled you off him and onto the bed as he got up to get some water. Your eyes followed him, appreciating his finely sculpted body as he walked to the sink in the ensuite, grabbing a glass off the nightstand and filling it with water. He met your eyes as he walked back to the bed.

“What?” He asked bashfully as he handed you the water, aware of his nakedness.

“You’re beautiful,” you smiled drowsily, taking the glass.

Simon chuckled. “Are you sure you’re okay? They must be some strong drugs they gave you.”

“Hmmm... never better” you sighed as you handed the water back to him. Despite what you said, sleep was already pulling you under.

Simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[idy-ll-ique]

My Little Secret.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Innocent!F!Reader

Genre : Fluff, little bit of Angst

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: Y/N listens to music 24/7 on Spotify. At first Ransom is irritated, but now he knows just how to use the application to his benefit. I mean, come on, it can't be considered stalking if it's his wife, right?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! oml a ransom drysdale fanfiction 😳 if I ever meet this asshole in real life I'd sock him in the jaw but in fiction? mamma mia. enjoy!

---

Does she really love an app more than me?

Ransom scoffed to himself as he opened his laptop, clicking on the music app, Spotify. He rarely used it, but his wife was obsessed with it. She listened to music 24/7; singing along to the soft tunes in her playlists while working, reading, cleaning, cooking, anything. Ransom thought it was insane how submerged she was in the activity.

Until that activity gave him an upper-hand in their relationship.

When he had first opened the app on his laptop, he was a tad bit surprised at the "Friends Activity" feature. He saw her account. Then, as more months passed, he started noticing how when she was happy, she'd always be listening to some happy playlist, when she was sad she'd be listening to sad songs, et cetera. And he started using it to his advantage.

Now, everyday before leaving his office he'd check the app to see what playlist she was listening to. If it was a happy, dance playlist, well and fine. But a sad one? Ransom's mood would also sour because my darling is not feeling okay. While going home, he'd buy something for her; mostly flowers or chocolates, or a nice little trinket that he'd find in the displays of shops that he thought his wife would enjoy.

He never told her about it. What he was doing would be considered stalking but come on, is it stalking if she's your wife? As the app finally loaded, his eyes immediately strayed to the Friends Activity and his heart clenched when he saw her listening to her sad playlist that she had named Melancholy. Sighing, he turned off the laptop and left his office for the night.

As he drove back home, he stopped outside a flower shop and bought an adorable little bouquet of mixed flowers. "She'll love it," the florist assured him, assuming he was buying it for his significant other. He gave her a quick smile and got back into the car, driving home as fast as he could. When he reached home, his heart broke at the sniffle he heard.

"Kitten?" Y/N's head shot up at her husband's voice as she hurriedly wiped her tears, getting up from her spot on the couch. "Hi, welcome home," she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips, smiling widely to avoid being caught. "Hello, how was your day?" He wanted to sigh, to chide her for keeping her bad mood from him, but he only smiled at how cute she looked trying to hide her true feelings.

"It wasn't bad! So, shower first and dinner later or dinner first?"

Now was the time. "Kitten, the truth, please. How was your day?" He raised a stern eyebrow when her face fell. How does he always read me so well? Knowing she couldn't hide now, she hung her head low as her shoulders sagged. "It was bad," she muttered. Ransom pulled her close, her head resting on his chest, his chin atop her head. "What happened? I swear if it's those fucking coworkers of yours—"

Her silence gave him the answer. The thing is, when Ransom and Y/N had started going out, everyone in the city was shocked. A cute, innocent little thing like her dating an asshole like him? Why? She had lost quite a few friends when she told them, but Ransom was there for her. "You don't need them, you have me." He was right. While the world saw him as a first-class jerk, he was the softest soul with her.

Her priorities were always placed before his. He took care of her, treated her like no previous boyfriend of hers had, and within 2 years of dating, he had proposed. People were even more shocked. She managed to get him to settle down?! How?! Then the gossip began. "He has to be cheating, I mean look at him. Look at her," she had heard one time after the engagement. That had made her super upset.

"Ransom, they're talking… someone said you were cheating on me…" She had broken down on his chest that night, crying her eyes out. And Ransom had immediately switched off the television. He sat up, holding her close. "You know I'd never do that, angel. Why would I, when you're with me? Do you really think those women out there have the same effect on me that you do? Huh?"

"Well, they said… they said I was ugly."

"What?! Those fucking whores—"

"Ransom, don't call them that," she had chided, swatting his chest. He caught the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip. "If it makes you feel better, no, I'm not cheating on you. I love you a little too much to do that. You mean the world to me, Y/N, there's no one on this planet I'd rather be with than you. And you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, in and out," he told her sincerely.

Her crying ceased. "Thank you." And he held her close the entire night, rubbing her back as she slept on him. People talking about him? He could handle that, God knows he had been handling that for years. But them talking about her? His perfect, angelic, goddess-like fiancée? No, no, he wouldn't handle that. That whole thing was 4 years ago. People still talked.

"What did they say to you, Y/N?" he asked, coming back to the real world.

"They asked me why I was still with you." He exhaled loudly through his nose when Y/N's arms tightened around him. "I told them I loved you. You are nice, you're not what everyone says you are. But then Amy talked about… about how you used to be— what was the word she used? Oh, uh, yeah, she said you were something of a Casanova before you met me. But I told her that was over."

His arms snaked around her waist, his fingers gently dancing over her hips as she continued speaking. "She insisted that people can't just change over a small period of time. I tried ignoring her but then she started gossiping with someone else about you. And then I snapped at her. But you know me…" Ransom hummed, pressing his lips to her forehead.

His wife had a docile soul. Everything from her looks to her mannerisms was soft. She couldn't yell, she couldn't tell people off— she was too pure to do that. The world needed people like her, to be honest. That was also one of the things he liked about her. Sometimes, he thought about how beneficial it would be for her to hold her own in a fight, but his ego shoved the thought down each time.

He liked being her big protector. He loved taking care of her like that. "Yes, I know, angel. You're too good for this world, you know that?" he mumbled, slightly pulling away from her so he could cup her face, looking into her eyes. She huffed and looked away. "I'm too soft. I can't help it. I don't want to be this way." He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. "Oh no, you should definitely be this way."

"Why?"

"Because it suits you. Don't change for people who don't even care about you. I like you like this; gentle, caring… you have the biggest heart in the world, Y/N. And I want to keep it that way. Don't let people ruin your innocence. Keep being you." He pressed her closer when she started sniffling again. "You're too good to me," she pouted and he laughed. "That's my duty as your husband, kitten. Look, I bought flowers."

He took out the bouquet from his bag, smiling when Y/N's eager hands accepted it. "Thank you! Oh, these are so beautiful! Let me replace the flowers in the vase on the dining table!" Squealing, she walked away from him, leaving him to stare after her with an infatuated smile. You have no idea what you do to me, angel.

---

"Night, Ran," Y/N yawned, keeping her phone away. He held his arm up and Y/N snuggled into his side, allowing him to wrap his arm around her side. "Night, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her nose. He watched TV for some time until the match got boring; then he switched it off and carefully lay down on the bed, about to doze off when Y/N's phone rang. He blinked. Who'd be calling at his hour?

He lifted the phone off the nightstand, grimacing when he saw the Caller ID. Amy. As soon as he picked the phone up, Amy started blabbering. "Hi! Sorry I'm calling so late, Y/N, but I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you at work today. It was wrong of me, really, I hope you can forgive me!" Ransom stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He had been hearing that line for years.

"Ransom, it's okay, she apologized, she won't be doing it again. She told me so herself!"

It was never the last time.

"Are you done?" he snapped and Amy froze on the other side. "M-Mr Drysdale—" "Listen, I don't want to hear it. I'm not Y/N; she has a heart of gold, God, I wonder why I let her hang out with people whose hearts are made of pure shit. How many times have you apologized for the same thing, huh? Using my girl's pure heart to your fucking advantage like that?"

"You're being—"

"I'm being what? I'm being rude? Who started it? If you ever mention our marriage in front of Y/N again, I'll have your fucking head." Amy bristled on the other side. "Are you threatening me?" Ransom smirked. "If you don't want to be threatened, I suggest you keep your nose out of other people's business. What mine and Y/N's relationship is like is no one's concern."

Amy stayed silent. "Gossiping won't get you anywhere. I have the best lawyers in the city, and I swear, if Y/N comes crying to me one more time about how someone was rude to her, I'll sue. Trust me, I will take legal action. Is that understood?" Amy quaked at his menacing tone. "Y-Yes, sir." Ransom's lips curled into a devious smile. "Great." And he ended the call.

"Ransom, who was that?" Y/N sleepily murmured next to him. She hadn't heard a word of the conversation, but could tell he was on the phone. "No one you need to worry about, sweetheart, go to sleep. I'm here." He lay down next to her, pulling her close. "You know, I have a question." He nodded at her to go on. "How do you always know when I'm going to be in a bad mood?"

"What do you mean?" he smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. "I mean, I have been wondering for years! Everytime I happen to be in a bad mood, you bring home a gift. It's like— it's like you can read my mind! How?! It can't be a coincidence, it has happened a lot of times for it to be a coincidence," she rambled and Ransom's heart fluttered at how innocent and adorable she looked.

"I have my ways," he teased, lightly poking her nose. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?" she pouted and he couldn't help but lean forward, pressing his lips to hers. "Nope, just so I can keep surprising you." She giggled, snuggling further into his arms until her face was pressed into his bare chest. "I love you so much, Ransom," she whispered. "I love you more, my sweet little angel."

Both of them went to sleep with giddy smiles on their faces.

Oh, and the Spotify thing? That was his little secret. Shh, don't tell anyone!

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[raineydays411]

So warm and tender

Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

A/n: Hello! finally the last part of Ember. I hope you guys like it and sorry for making y’all wait so long for the confrontation lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s POV

“Aunt Pam?!” you say in shock as you stop struggling against the vine wrapped around your body.

“Y/n, is it really you?” your aunt said as the vine loosened its grip and gently lowered you on the ground. “ Where have you been? Everyone has been going crazy looking for you”

You don’t answer as you look at your aunt. You didn’t realise you missed her as much as you did but now all you want to do is throw yourself in her arms. So you did.Pam, sensing you needed comfort rather than an interrogation, wrapped her arms around you. “I missed so much my Petal.” 

With those five words, all the hurt and pain you bottled up came out. and you cried.

As you cried, your aunt looked at the girl she hasn’t seen in eight years, and wondered what she’s been going through and if she did the right thing by giving you to your father all those years ago.

“Petal, I think you need to explain what’s going on”

You look up and sniff, “ Yeah, i think an explanation is well in order.” and you tell her everything. From the years of being ignored by your father, your last argument, the two weeks you spent in captivity, and your new powers. 

“ And that’s when I found you.” You finish looking at the grim faces of Pam and the other woman, who now that you think about it looks really familiar. 

“Oh, you poor puddin’!” you found your face being squished between two ands and then you were comically pressed against a body in a tight hug. 

“Don’tcha worry bout a thing, me and Pammy will take care of everything, you just sit here and---”  This seems familiar...

“ Harley, I don’t think she can breathe.” “Oh right, now you remember, it the blonde woman who used to sneak into the apartment”. You think to yourself as you struggle to get loose from her grip. You hear someone snicker and see Danny looking at the commotion. 

“ Shut up Danny, where have you been?” You say, forgetting that you’re the only one who can see him. 

“Exploring, do you thing she could hug me like that too?” 

“ If you weren’t already dead, I’m sure they would kill you for that comment”

Pam and Harley look at each other in concern as it seems like you’re talking to yourself. 

“ Hey kid, if you’re gonna talk to yourself, try an’ do it when other people can’t see you, like me.”  The blonde says as if someone talking to themselves was a daily occurrence for her.  You explain that with your powers, you were basically dead and can speak and see other dead people. Hearing that, Pam’s expression darkened

“He let you die?” she said in a grim tone. All the vines and plants in the room started whipping around angrily as if they were looking for the person who wronged you. It was then when you realized it wasn’t your Auntie Pam who taught you how to plant petunias you were looking at, this was Poison Ivy. 

“ Men, you can never trust em’. Well, whadda say little flower, ya up for a little premeditated murder?” and that was the infamous Harley Quinn. 

“ It would’ve been nice to know that you’re related to scary criminals y/n....” Danny said in a fearful voice. And if you were being honest you just found out that your aunt Pam was also the Poison Ivy but to be fair you haven’t seen her since you were like eight. 

“I don’t want to kill him” you finally say. “ I don’t want anything to do with him. Nor his precious Spiderling.” The plants calm down as Ivy calmed down and was your aunt Pam again. “ What do you want to do?” she asks.

You think to yourself and say,” I want him to know how he made me feel, and then I want to stay with you.”  Your aunt and Harley froze when you said that. 

“Petal, there is nothing I want more than for you to stay with me again,” She started, “ But it isn’t safe for you to stay.” Your eyes started to water

“But I-I have powers now, I can defend myself! I won’t be any trouble, it’ll be like I’m not even here” At this point, anything was better than going back to being invisible. “Please...I don’t want to go back...” 

Hearing the desperation in your voice broke Pams, Harleys, and Danny's heart. Pam because this was the daughter of her closest friend. She vowed to protect you from anything the day you came to her after losing your mother. Seeing you like this just reminded her how she, in her mind, has failed you. Seeing you so desperate to get away from the man who broke your heart reminded Harley of herself. The nights she would sneak into the tiny apartment you shared with Pammy, in hopes of escape only to get drawn back with empty promises. So yeah, she had a small soft spot for you. And Danny, you were the only person who saw him after months of being invisible. He felt like he needed to help you in your mission to get your father regret ignoring you.

“Hey Pammy...maybe we should call him...” Harley started to suggest. 

“NO, I’d rather drink weed killer than go to that...orphan collector for help.” the red head spat. “ No. We’ll figure it out but she can stay here for now.”

Hearing that you had a place to call home now, gave you the motivation to go and confront your father. Not only for ignoring you, but for leaving you in that..cell for two weeks. He didn’t even attempt to look for you as far as you knew. You’d have thought at least one of the other Avengers would have came to save you. But no one came. After all those years, no one came.

“Y/n.. your eyes” Danny whispered, his cold hand touching your arm snapped you out of your mind. The neon glow of your eyes faded to your normal e/c. 

“ Aunt Pam, Harley is there any way you guys can get me to New York and back?” You ask, finally ready to confront your father. 

“ Well....” Harley say as with a smirk

~~~~~~~~~one terrifying ride on a stolen batplane later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving to New York you made Pam and Harley wait a few blocks away from the tower, as you really didn’t want the Avengers to find out your aunt was a wanted criminal. You “went ghost” as Danny like to call it and snuck into the Tower with ease. You then snuck into your room, seeing everything covered in a layer of dust as no one has been in there for over two weeks. You packed a bag and filled it with some clothes, books and a picture of you and your mother. You took that bag and walked to the door, looking around at the room that was both you prison and safe space. It was decorated with multiple trophies, medals, and ribbons all from the multiple sports and clubs you joined to impress your father. Not like that ever happened. Danny wander around looking at the multiple teams photos you had hung up.

“ You’re a volleyball girl?” he said, “ Huh. I’d never have had guessed.” 

You rolled your eyes as you finished packing. “ Hey I have a job for you.” you say turning to him. “ I need you to go to the control room and turn off the power for thirty minutes. Then turn it back on and come find me in the common room.”

“ Yes ma’am” Danny says, saluting and disappearing through the wall before he comes back. “Ummm, wheres the control room?” 

You roll your eyes and explain how to get to the control room and wait. When the lights go out and you’ll make your move. Your father would have to pass through the common room to get to the control room from his lab, which you assume he’ll be. There you’ll be waiting for him. 

The lights go out. It’s showtime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's POV

The team spent three more days searching for you. They followed every lead and half of the team even flew out to the building that collapsed an hour ago. Tony, Steve, and Natasha stood behind to look at more clues. It was a little past midnight, and both Steve and Natasha went to bed leaving Tony to tinker in his lab. Tony was making improvements to a certain spider suit as he thought about what his daughter said to him before she went missing.

“Sir, there seems to be someone in Y/--” FRIDAY started to say when the power cut out.

“FRIDAY??” Tony questioned as he walked out to check the control room, making sure to get his nano bracelet just incase. As he walked down the hallway he thought about waking up Steve and if he was brave enough to wake Natasha when he heard it.

“Hi daddy.”

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up in disbelief. The lights turned back on to reveal his daughter. Wearing a black halter top, spandex leggings, grey boots with elbow length gloves. She looked skinny, as if she hadn’t had a proper meal in the weeks she was gone. And for some reason the air was cold in the room. But there she stood.

‘Y/n” Tony said breathlessly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n pov

As you wait for Tony to walk in,you look around the common room and reminisce. You think about the time when you first moved in, and you got lost trying to find the bathroom and accidently walked into Natashas room. YOu thought she was going to kill you but ended up walking you to the restroom and back to your room. Or when you made the volleyball team way back in eighth grade, and you ran home to tell your dad but ended up telling the whole team, who were rarely all together, and they all took you out to get ice cream, minus Tony. You had to admit, even though your dad didn’t pay attention to you, Nat and Steve did. As well as the whole team, but those two really became the parental figures in your life. That’s why it hurt when not even they came for you. Even they had forgotten you.

“Hi daddy” you said in a mocking voice. Your father stopped dead in his tracks, as he looked you over in disbelief.

“Y/n”, he said in a breathless voice. 

“Oh, you remember my name?” You say in an sarcastic tone. “ Didn’t seem like you did when you left me in a hydra cell for two weeks.” 

Hearing that you were a prisoner of Hydra made Tony’s blood freeze. 

“Hydra? Oh Y/N are you okay? What did they do to you?” He asked frantically as he walk towards you with the intent of checking if you were injured. You jerk away from him, avoiding his touch and say

“ Oh, I’m wonderful. Just so fucking fantastic. I was just experimented on and injected with various liquids that caused excruciating pain. No big deal” 

“ Y/n..we spent days trying to look for you. Me and the team--”

“You and the team what Tony? I was there for two weeks. TWO WEEKS I WAS POKED AND PRODDED. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.” You scream, anger filling your heart as you remember the agony you went through. You think about the scratches on the wall of the cells, the taunts from the guards, and screams of the undead.

“ You have no idea what I went through. What I’m going through.” You say, feeling your body grow colder as you lose control and start to shift. “ You don’t care about me. If I were Parker, you would have saved mem within SECONDS.”

“That's not true. Y/N you have no idea how much I love you.” Tony tries to say. He’s filled with the need to tell you everything he didn’t tell you before. “I know I haven’t always been the best father. Trust me I know that now. But if you give me a chance, I want to make everything right. Please.” 

You didn’t think it would go like this. In fact you were not at all prepared for Tony to say this. You expected to walk in on him continuing his life as normal, tinkering in his lab and such. You had always yearned to hear him say those words to you. But now, they just fill you with anger.

“You think you could just tell me what I want to hear and what? I’ll just act like nothing happened?? I know you’re not that stupid.” You spit, the room growing colder as you get angrier. “ It’s too late for all that Tony. I’m not the same girl i was two weeks ago.i won;t take it any longer.” 

“Y/n..your eyes” Tony says as he slowly starts to put his gauntlet bracelet on, realising that you are becoming a threat. 

“ Oh do you like them?”, You ask “ This is what happened when they injected me. I can also do this.” You shift, shades of blue taking over brown skin. Tony stared at you in awe and a bit of fear. 

“ Y/n this isn’t you. I know you’re angry but--” “ Isn’t me?” You interrupt.” You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m like. And even if you did the old me died in that cell. Literally I died” You and Tony stared at each other. and that's when you heard the doors open. Two sets of footsteps started rushing to the commotion. 

“Y/N some red head and beefy blonde are on their way” You hear Danny say as you realize you had to wrap it up. If anyone can convince you to stay, it’s Steve and Nat.

“ It doesn’t matter anymore Tony.” you say as you start walking to the window. “ I can’t stay here anymore. There’s nothing for me. You win. Peter can be the child you always wanted cause from now on, consider me dead.” and with that, you phase threw the window and let yourself fall, knowing that you won’t actually fall as you can fly. 

Tony freaks out and calls for his suit, only to see a blue blur shoot up and across the sky. Then he just sits there and stares. The footsteps reach the common room and he hears someone ask 

“ Stark..what was all the yelling. What's going on?” 

“she's gone” He says, and that's when he truly realizes his mistake. He became what he never wanted to become. He became his father. And now you were gone.

Taglist: @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

[sevlgi]

what we want

requested: yes x2

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

contents: idol!jennie, idol!reader, pr relationship

warnings: none

synopsis: Jennie’s lost herself somewhere along the way of achieving her dream. Behind that tough, cruel mask of hers, she doesn’t know what she wants, and maybe uncovering the mask you wear is what will help her realize it.

a/n: this is so much heavier than either of you guys asked for asalknasdfkj... but i wrote my longest fic yet in less than 2 days!!!! i think that’s an achievement :D

word count: 6k

Kim Jennie did not have a good reputation, and she didn’t really give a shit about it.

At least, that’s what everyone thought. That’s what everyone knew, with the numerous articles a week about South Korea’s resident fuckgirl, with Dispatch’s 20 cameramen hired just to follow Jennie. She was careless, she was cold, and she care what anyone else said about her. 

What no one cared about was Jennie’s reasoning. Because while the first time sneaking out to a club and losing herself in fruit-flavored shots and skimming touches was simply for the fun of it, it was the aftereffect that made her keep going. Because with the articles of Kim Jennie’s newest scandal, Blackpink’s album sales shot through the roof, YG’s stocks completely flipped around, and Jennie herself decided it was worth it. It didn’t matter if her members looked at her a little differently, like they didn’t recognize her, or if she was the only one constantly excluded from appreciation tweets on Twitter. If acting out would help promote them more than her agency ever did, she could do it.

And she did. For almost a year, Jennie became Kpop’s most well-known idol, for better or for worse. For almost a year, Blackpink’s sales were unmatched by any group or artist around the world and Jennie couldn’t read her Instagram comments without wanting to throw up. 

It took a year for YGE to finally do something, and by then, Jennie wasn’t sure she particularly cared anymore.

“Jennie.”

“Youngshik.” Her voice was scarily steady and her face just as calm; Jennie knew that the her from ten years ago, the teenager who was accepted into the company under Youngshik’s watch, wouldn’t be able to recognize her as she sat before the man with crossed arms and a blank expression. But as he stared at her with disappointment glazing his eyes, Jennie lifted her chin higher, almost daring him to speak.

When he did, he sounded almost cautious of his words. “Jennie, I know you. This isn’t like you at all, you can’t carry on like this.”

“What do you know about me?” She had to keep herself from wincing at her own tone, sharp enough to draw blood. “Huh? You haven’t cared about me for the past year, haven’t cared about us. And who the fuck said I can’t carry on? I’m doing just fine.”

Youngshik shook his head. “Please. Ch-- your members know. I know. All you may see right now is the attention you’re gaining, the fleeting ecstasy you get every night, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now.”

As much as she hated it, Youngshik’s words cut deep. She wanted to scream out that she was doing this for her members, for the company, and that it didn’t matter what her reputation was like, but Jennie schooled herself into the person everyone believed and knew her to be. “I’m the only thing keeping you afloat right now. You’re wasting them-- Chaeng, Lisa, Jisoo. They keep practicing but you waste them. I’m only doing what you won’t,” Jennie defended herself, anger seeping into her voice at the thought of her members.

“Jennie. MNet has threatened to drop you from the next season of Queendom.” The man’s voice was quiet but deadly, and Jennie couldn’t seem to open her mouth at the thought of her members’ practice being wasted because of her. Youngshik took that as a sign to continue, “I realize that what you’re doing is increasing sales, but netizens hate you right now. You know that, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”

“Oh yeah? How’re you going to help?” Jennie sighed. “Lock me up in your dungeon again?”

“Quite the opposite,” he answered, leaning forward. “We’re going to keep you in check. The only thing that Dispatch likes more than clubbing scandals is leaked couples, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “And how is that going to keep me in check? Dispatch already knows I like girls, giving me a well-behaved boyfriend isn’t going to be believable.’

Just as the words left her mouth, a knock sounded on the frosted glass pane in Youngshik’s office door, and the man stood. “You’ll see once you meet her.”

Her?

Jennie didn’t turn even when she heard the door open, or when Youngshik murmured, “Junho, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. This is her?”

“This is her. Jennie?”

She finally turned, face impassive, but Jennie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the person standing in the doorway. You-- she recognized you, specifically the polite smile you wore on your face as you offered a handshake. She remembered hearing you be praised for your constant professionalism, your sterling reputation, and your bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m a big fan of yours.”

“Jennie Kim, but I’m assuming you already knew that,” she said by way of greeting. You nearly winced at her flat tone, but the mask remained on and you gingerly took the empty seat just by her. “So. Am I the only one in the dark here?”

“Not anymore,” Junho smiled. Unlike Youngshik, he looked pleasant, a smile crinkling at the side of his eyes, but Jennie disliked him nonetheless. “The two of you know by now that you’re being set up in a fake relationship. Jennie, YGE’s main concern with you is your reputation. You club, you drink, you... sleep with people.”

She simply nodded, waiting for the point. Youngshik jumped in, “Y/N, on the other hand, has a stellar reputation. Never has had a scandal in her career, except when she publicly came out, and even that had a good reception.”

“How nice,” Jennie deadpanned.

Junho sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “Miss Kim. Despite your shortcomings and the methods that you achieved such fame, you are nonetheless the most well known female idol in the world. From this relationship, you’ll gain stability as well as a cover, a perfectly sweet girlfriend who’ll lighten your image up. And Y/N will receive more attention by your side, exactly what we want for her and her group. Is that clear?”

Jennie wished she could say no-- after all, you obviously weren’t going to-- but she also knew that the two men were right. She could profit, achieve exactly what she was trying to do, but with less damage done to Blackpink’s image. And as much as she wished she could rebel, she found herself sighing through tightened lips. “Clear. I agree.”

“You didn’t exactly have a choice.” Still, Youngshik slid a contract and a pen across the table, and Jennie signed in the blank without a second glance. “Good. Though we realize that this relationship is fake, we want you to at least pretend to be in love, so get to know each other. It’ll be a while.”

“Great,” you sighed. Jennie was slightly surprised by the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but she lost interest when you assumed a polite smile yet again. “How do we do that?”

Junho exchanged a glance with Youngshik but answered by himself, “If it was me, I’d start with a coffee.”

“Can I order something for you?”

“I’m good.”

Your smile was tight, and Jennie wondered how many snide comments she could make before you snapped. But apparently, one wasn’t enough, as you tugged your mask up. “Okay. I’ll get something for you when you feel like it, just wait for me in that booth.”

Without something to argue about, Jennie could only obey, sliding into the booth furthest away from any people. She sighed, staring at the ceiling; she hated that you were being pushed into the contract to save her, and she hated even more that she was purposefully being so difficult for you to deal with. But the truth was that Jennie couldn’t let you keep her in check, couldn’t let you get under her skin or change her from the way that she had been for years. No matter what YGE said, she was succeeding, and she wasn’t having the worst time in the world while she did.

“Uh. I got you a green juice, I hope you don’t mind.”

Jennie stared at you as you slid the bottle over the table to her, removing your mask just to flash her an annoyingly sweet smile. “I didn’t ask for it.”

You shrugged, “Oh, I know. But I read somewhere that you liked green juices, and I didn’t feel right letting you- letting my girlfriend go without a drink.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jennie cleared her throat when she realized how cruel she sounded, and rephrased it softer. “Don’t.”

“Okay. I understand,” you mumbled, clasping your hands over the iced Americano you held. “So. When did we start dating?” When Jennie frowned in confusion, you clarified, “We’re supposed to have a believable, synced story, right? To seem more real?”

The other girl bit her lip but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Would two months be enough?”

Jennie wanted to tell you to stop pursing your lips when you thought, wanted to make you stop looking so approachable and sweet when you were sitting across from the most-hated idol in Korea. But she shut herself up, if only not to offend someone who she’d be spending a lot of time with. “I think so. We could say that we met at the Gayo Daejeon, since that was three months ago. I asked for your number,” you hummed and pulled out a notepad. “And a month after becoming friends, you asked me on a date.”

“Why did I ask you on a date?” Jennie asked, eyebrows raised. 

“I asked for your number, let’s keep it fair,” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Okay. What would you want to do on a date?”

She considered the question, tapping her nails against the table. “The Han River? Lots of people go in masks, so it’s possible for us to have gone without anyone seeing us. There’s food, nice scenery, we could take pictures--”

“You’re a real romantic, Kim Jennie,” you smiled, pen scratching against the paper of your notepad. “Okay. And we don’t live with each other, since you have a dorm... one of us has to be caught on the route between to make it believable.”

“I don’t think we have to.” Jennie crossed her arms, not moving even when you turned your notepad so she could see. “We just need to be seen in public together a couple times, hold hands once. Dispatch will eat it up.”

You sighed softly and tucked the notebook away. “Okay. At-- at least add me on Kakao. So we can communicate and stuff.”

She stood, tugging her jacket on and her hat down to hide her eyes. “Don’t have Kakao. Have a nice day, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And just like that, with a jingle of the front door’s bell, she was gone, and you could only stare at the untouched bottle of juice across from you or the glass door swinging closed.

Jennie liked practicing with her members. Of course she did-- there was no one she loved more than those 3 girls, and spending time with them was always exactly what she needed. And practice reminded her of better, simpler times: learning a new choreo with Lisa for the next evaluation, practicing English with Chaeng, or asking Jisoo for help with vocals. There were memories in the scratches on the floorboards of the practice rooms, and Jennie liked feeling them every time she stepped inside.

But besides that, it was a secure place. No Dispatch, no cameras, and certainly no PR stunt girlfriends. It was supposed to be her happy place, her home away from the dorm, and the last resort for time alone.

Of course, you had to change that.

“Jennie, Y/N’s here to see you.”

At the sound of her manager’s voice, Jennie’s ankle twisted and she fell to the ground, still panting from dancing. Jisoo bent down to help her up, Chaeyoung and Lisa stopping their practices too. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the hallway outside. “Your ‘girlfriend’. She’s here to see you.”

Lisa gasped at that, her head whipping towards Jennie. “Jennie unnie! You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Jennie winced and waved Jisoo off before walking towards the door. “I... I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about it, keep practicing. I’ll catch up.”

As soon as she stepped outside, she found you standing there, your smile so wide, as if she hadn’t been so cold to you since the beginning. “Hi, Jennie.”

“Why’re you here?” 

You barely faltered at the tone of her voice, holding out one of two bubble teas towards her. “I brought you boba, I thought you might need a rest from practicing. And don’t worry, Dispatch got the pictures they needed, I ‘forgot’ to put on a mask when I got out of the car just outside the building.”

Jennie sighed, but she accepted the offered cup anyway. She was thirsty; all she could hope was that you wouldn’t take it as a sign to keep coming to see her. “And? I thought we agreed that we only needed to be seen in public when our companies schedule it.”

“Well, I’m not just here for the PR,” you frowned. “You’re obviously opposed to actually dating me, or even from becoming friends with me, but it’ll be miserable if we’re both mean to each other. Let’s at least be civil, okay?”

Why? she wanted to ask. How? How can you be so positive even when faced with me? She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the drink. Somehow, you’d gotten her favorite flavor just right, and maybe the sugar rushing in her blood was what prompted her to say, “Civil. Sure. Thank you for the boba, Y/N.”

“Of course!” you grinned. You startled Jennie when you went to take your flannel off, even more so when you reached out to give it to her. “Here, take this.”

“Um. Why?”

Sighing jokingly, you pressed it into her hand. “Next time, you’re coming to see me. If you wear this while you’re caught on film, it’ll raise a lot of suspicions. Exactly what we want, right?”

Jennie nodded at that, closing her fist around the fabric. “Right. So, are you... planning to watch us practice?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I’ll probably just hang around. Unless you want me to?”

Some tiny, annoying section in the back of her mind wanted to say ‘yes’, but Jennie could hear Chaeyoung laughing in the practice room, and the thought of introducing you to her members wasn’t exactly appealing. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for stopping by,” she attempted a smile. Thankfully, you just bowed and waved goodbye again before turning around the corner, and Jennie relaxed with a sigh.

But your smile lingered in her mind. The first time she saw you, she thought it was genuine-- maybe you were just that polite, just that professional, even with how impossible it was. But talking to you on her own, she saw too many false grins, too much effort being put into keeping that likeable, fun personality up.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was lying, but that fact did nothing but scare her more. 

“So. Are we gonna talk about Y/N?”

Jennie sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. “No.”

“Really? Because you didn’t exactly look happy after talking to the person who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”

The rapper raised her eyebrows even though Jisoo couldn’t see it over the phone. ��Well, she isn’t exactly my real girlfriend.”

In the background, Chaeyoung asked, “What? Then why did our manager say she was?”

“It’s a PR stunt,” Jennie said bluntly. Her manager sighed in the front seat but didn’t speak. “That’s it. Y/N has a good reputation, I don’t. I’m in the biggest girl group in the world, she isn’t. We’re benefiting from each other.”

Lisa groaned into the phone, her voice tinny over speaker. “Is that seriously it? I only heard you guys talking, but she’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting her down. It could be good for you, unnie.”

Jennie pinched her nosebridge and pleaded, “Can we please not talk about this? I’m just doing this-- it’s a PR stunt. Nothing else to it. I gotta go anyway.” She ended the call before anyone could say something, leaning back and pressing her hands to her eyes.

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this, Jennie.”

“Please. Shut up,” Jennie groaned, reaching for the flannel on her lap as the car lurched a stop. The smell of perfume swept over her as she tugged the clothing on, leaving her mask off but donning the sunglasses that she’d been paid to wear. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Her manager called out, “One hour. Try to have fun, okay?”

It wasn’t like Jennie couldn’t hear the click of cameras following her as she buzzed herself into the apartment building, couldn’t see the flashes half-hidden in the surrounding bushes. But she schooled her expression and let herself into the building, engulfed in silence once again for the 7 minutes before she reached your apartment door.

“Hi, Jennie,” you greeted when you opened the door. It was disarming to see that perfectly crafted, perfectly kind expression, but Jennie followed you inside anyway.  To be honest, the way you decorated your apartment was almost a perfect reflection of the you that you presented-- sweet, comfortable, but a completely blank slate that could be arranged easily. No pictures decorated the walls, just like how your easy smile never left your face, and the only things on your expensive glass shelves were awards and your own albums. But you smiled, “The flannel looks good on you.”

“Thanks. You can have it back,” Jennie mumbled, peeling it off and draping it over one of the acrylic chairs that tastefully decorated your living room. “It’s a nice place. You’re lucky to live alone.”

You hummed, clearing a pile of papers off the couch so that she could sit. “Sure, I guess. It’s a lot lonelier than the dorm, but it is nice to have all the space to myself.”

“Right.” She sat obediently and accepted the petite cup of coffee that you pushed towards her. “So, what are we supposed to do for an hour?”

“I thought we could watch Netflix and grab some takeout,” you chuckled embarrassedly, reaching for the remote. “I can’t really cook, but I’ll pay for anything you want to order.”

Jennie should’ve asked for pizza, jajangmyeon, something inexpensive but universally enjoyable. But the more she looked at you, the more she realized that for all your effort, nothing she did could possibly break you. Making dinnner for you once, even becoming friends with you and pulling away again, wouldn’t change anything when everything she saw of you was... false. So she stood, made her way to the kitchen, and opened to the fridge. “I can cook. What have you got?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested and followed her over. “I’m serious, I can pay for anything you want.”

The rapper ignored you and frowned at a tub of kimchi. “How does kimchi jigae sound? You’ve got close to nothing in here.”

You were silent for a moment, but sighed and moved to open your cupboards. “Kimchi jigae sounds great. You’re going to be carrying this dinner, I hope you know.”

“That’s no problem,” Jennie chuckled, turning to you slightly. “By the way, have you got any soju?”

“I thought you’d have a better alcohol tolerance.”

“Why?” Jennie groaned, head clutched in her hands. The steam from the cup of coffee that she convinced Chaeyoung to buy for her was absolutely going to melt her makeup, but under the LED lights of the waiting room, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Lisa sighed and patted her shoulder softly as she passed by. “I mean, wasn’t there a month where you went to a different club every night? It’d be weird if you did that completely sober.”

Jennie frowned; she wished she could tell Lisa that she actually spent every night of that month huddled in the corner with a mocktail, hoping to the heavens that Dispatch didn’t burst their way inside and find her hiding. But she shook it off and replied flippantly, “Drinking a lot doesn’t increase everyone’s tolerance, believe it or not. Maybe Y/N just had really strong soju.”

Before the dancer could respond, Jisoo opened the door and popped her head inside. “Hey, guys, they’re ready for us to start filming. And, Jen-- you have a visitor.”

“Who?” she groaned in answer, struggling to her feet and wincing as she removed her sunglasses.

Her question was answered as she reached the stage, finding a familiar face among the camera directors. “Y/N?” she squinted.

“Hey, Jennie!” you shouted with your hands cupped around your mouth. The smile on your face was a little wider than usual, poked into your cheeks differently. It was pretty, Jennie realized, and more genuine. “Good luck!”

Before she could ask what you were doing, huddling with the cameramen while she prepared to film her first Queendom stage, she was called up on stage. But for once, Jennie could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she got into formation, a smile that she hadn’t been able to pull off for a while.

You startled her by cheering her name just before filming began, and inciting laughter from the crew. Some warm flower blossomed in her chest as Jennie spoke her first line, her voice more steady than it had ever been during practice.

As soon as she finished the first attempt at the group shot, Jennie bent down at the edge of the stage and beckoned you forward. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m cheering you on, of course.” Jennie found a banner with her name on it in your hands as you approached, the tip of your nose cold from the air-con in the studio. “You did great.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled softly, feeling the banner between her fingertips. “Where’d you even get this?”

You shrugged, “Bought it. I had to make an account and all, so you better be feeling more energized.”

“I am.” Jennie herself was surprised at how true the statement was; for some reason, seeing your dyed hair in the crowd of cameras was like a shot of pure adrenaline, just more intense and gratifying. She smiled, “I am. It’s really nice of you to come, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you said, waving the banner around with a grin creasing in the corners of your eyes. “We’re girlfriends, after all. And I’m your friend.” At the call of a director, though, you stepped back. “I should let you film.”

“Y/N?” Jennie called after you. When you turned to face her again, Jennie allowed her customary gummy smile to take over her face as she said softly, “You can call me Jen. All my friends do.”

You were too far away for her to hear your answer, but the excited little jump you made as you walked back to your spot kept the grin on Jennie’s face as she stood again. She missed the relieved glances her members exchanged behind her back, but she could feel a new kind of energy coursing through her as the director started his countdown again. And-- she kind of liked it.

You hated the popular belief that idols who presented the sweetest, kindest version of themselves to the internet got absolutely no hate. Fans, family, managers-- they all believed that never letting your smile slip and never having a single scandal would protect an idol completely. When you were deciding on your persona for your debut, you thought the same, and so you forced yourself into the happy, positive personality that the world knew.

However, for all your effort, for all the things you had to endure with that same smile on your face, people hated you. They called you fake, tried their best to get under your skin just so they could see you fall. But it was too late to fight back, because that wouldn’t become the kind, sweet Y/N. It was too late to ask for help, and it was too late to let yourself cry. 

When you met Jennie, you were determined to keep her on the outside of that precious mask you could never remove. After all, what would she understand? She did what she wanted to, didn’t care what people said about her, and she was strong. Jennie was as strong as you wished you could be, and you were sure that she would never understand. But the more that you saw her and the more that you talked to her, the more you understood that you were one and the same. That tough, carefree version of Jennie was what protected her, just like your perfectly engineered smile.

The first time you saw Jennie laugh, you knew that you were in deep. She didn’t know a single thing about you, but she was letting her walls down and letting you in-- or at least, the you she knew. But you liked her smile so much that you wanted to keep it there, at any cost. And maybe it meant sacrificing yourself.

“Are you ready?”

“For what? Walking through the street, undisguised enough that Dispatch will recognize us but no one else will?” At your pout, Jennie stopped her grumbling and laughed softly, still adjusting her scarf in the car mirror. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

A beat of silence passed as she grabbed your hand and led you out of the parking garage and onto Garosu-gil. “Hey. Y/N, I want to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I... I’m glad it’s you.” Jennie squeezed your hand, her skin slightly cold with the wind blowing softly around the two of you. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.”

You wished that she wouldn’t say that. You wished she’d feel anything else towards you-- contempt, hatred, even, despite everything you’d gone through just to become civil. But you squeezed back, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Me too. You know, it’d be a lot worse if they set me up with a guy.”

“Why would they?” Jennie frowned in answer. “You came out on your own.”

“Unlike you, I didn’t prove it. You know Korea, you aren’t gay until you prove you are,” you sighed, scuffing your shoes against the cobblestones. “They wanted to set me up with a guy at first, but they decided that accepting YG’s offer for me to date you would be more beneficial.”

The other girl paused, and you didn’t quite dare to look up. “Oh. So you didn’t choose to help me, did you?”

You shook your head quietly, expecting Jennie to react badly. But she huffed out a breath and pushed your arm softly. “That’s okay. We’re friends, anyway, and it was hard for you to get us here already. I appreciate you, you know.”

Opening your mouth to respond, you noticed yet another camera flash, just between two buildings ahead of you. “What?” Jennie asked, following your gaze.

“I-- Don’t hate me for this, okay?” you whispered, stopping in the middle of the road. Before she could say anything, you placed your hands lightly on her jaw, pulling Jennie towards you; before your lips actually met, though, you gave her a second to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward just the slightest bit, barely enough to connect.

You didn’t quite dare to move, but Jennie’s hands rested on your waist and pulled you into her, just enough that your lips slotted together. You could barely hear the clicks of the camera, the warmth of the girl that you were kissing completely clouding your brain.

Before anything else happened, you released your grip and stepped away, lips suddenly cold. “I think that’s enough,” you whispered, linking your hands again and lowering your head.

Jennie laughed breathlessly and continued to stroll along when you prompted her to. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Um. Sorry?”

She only giggled harder at that, shoving you slightly. “What are you even sorry for? You’re a good kisser, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, heat rising to your ears as you shoved her back. “How do you even say that with a straight face?”

“Hey, I had to listen to Lisa say ‘bitch I’m a star but not Patrick’, I think I can handle this,” Jennie joked. Despite all your effort not to, you found yourself staring at her smile again, losing yourself and any other worries bothering you in it, and her, once again. 

Jennie frowned at her phone-- or actually, at the blankness of her texting history with you. After the little PR stunt at Garosu-gil, you hadn’t contacted her once, and she didn’t dare to surprise you at your apartment or properly ask you what was going on. 

“Haven’t you heard the saying that a watched kettle never boils?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a pot,” Jennie replied listlessly, still staring at her screen. “But I have heard it, yes. I’m just hoping the universe proves it false.”

Chaeyoung sighed and hugged her older member from behind, swaying back and forth. “Why don’t you just message her? Or go see her? Our manager won’t say anything about it if you just say it’s for PR.”

“It is,” Jennie frowned, turning to her member. The Australian girl raised an eyebrow, and Jennie bit her lip. “Okay. Maybe it isn’t.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “I saw those kiss pics, you know. And no one kisses like that if it’s ‘just PR’. You like each other, unnie, and it’s time to face it.”

Jennie swatted Chaeyoung’s arm. “That’s so cheesy, shut up. But... do you really think I like her?”

“That’s a question for you to answer,” the younger girl pointed out. “But I’ve known you for close to a decade. If I’m right about this, and I’m sure I am, everything’s about to change for you.”

“Ugh, cheesy again,” Jennie groaned, but she stood hesitantly nonetheless. “But... I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

On her way down the stairs, the rapper dialed her manager on her phone and held it up to her ear while she waited for the dial tone to fade. “You’re driving me to Y/N’s house,” she said by way of greeting. “And it’s not just for PR.”

She was sure that no car ride had ever gone slower; Jennie fidgeted the entire way, cursing every bus that blocked her way and scowling as the sun began to set behind a set of buildings in the distance. The more she thought about it, the more definite it was-- she liked you, more than she thought she could like a person. And while that fact would’ve scared her, should’ve scared her, it didn’t. Because it was you, and nothing about you could scare her anymore.

Somehow, the process of buzzing herself in at the building’s front, taking the same elevator up to the 67th floor, and hurrying her way down blue-carpeted hallways had become familiar. Jennie knocked persistently on the door of your apartment and called out, “Hey, Y/N, let me in. It’s Jennie.”

It took a while for anything to happen, and Jennie was almost backing away by the time that the door finally cracked open. For once, the smile on your face was missing, replaced by a guarded, harsher expression than the other girl was used to seeing. “Jen. What’s up?”

“Uh,” she hesitated, “can I come in? I don’t think we can talk in the hallway.”

You looked like you wanted to say no, but with a pleading look from Jennie, you backed away and let the door swing open. Jennie shut it quietly, following you into the living room, where you stood with your arms crossed. “So. What can’t we talk about in the hallway?”

Jennie wanted to say outright the words that were beating in her throat, but the expression on your face alarmed her. You were like a stranger-- or, maybe, she realized that you had finally let your mask down. “I... Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded. Suddenly, the roles were reversed;  Jennie was the one reaching out for you, maybe even chasing after you, and you were somehow the one who was turning away.

“Okay,” Jennie said quietly. You were about to turn away, probably assuming that she was going to leave, but if Jennie had learned anything from you, it was that she couldn’t give up that easily if she wanted you to open up. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you responded instantly. Your words only hurt more when you didn’t look up from the television, continuing, “I don’t want you, and I don’t want anything from you--”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” Anger was once again rushing through Jennie’s veins, though not the kind of anger she was used to experiencing. No, she wasn’t mad at your words in the slightest, or even offended-- she was simply pissed off about the fact that you were shutting her down, and she didn’t know why. “Not when you were the one who started this. Y/N, you wanted me once, you don’t get to go back on that without an explanation,” Jennie gritted her teeth, gripping your forearms in her hands.

You finally turned when she shook you lightly, your face blank. “What, I don’t get to shut myself down? You did it the entire time I was trying, giving my all so that you’d talk to me or even just be civil.”

Jennie pleaded, “You succeeded, didn’t you? You’re right that I was a total bitch when all you were trying to do was be nice and make this tolerable for the both of us, but you succeeded. Okay? You-- you’ve made your place in my heart, and I’m not even angry about it. I just... I just like you that much.”

A derisive scoff escaped your lips as you twisted your arms out of her reach, stepping away. “You like me? Jennie, you don’t even know me. This me, the smiles and boba and everything, it’s a facade.” You threw your hands up in the air, biting down on your lip before sighing out, “It’s fake. All of it.”

“I know it isn’t,” Jennie shook her head desperately. She searched your eyes, scanned the sea of the color she’d grown to love, for some semblance of the person she remembered kissing her. “Look, you kissed me. And I know it was for the cameras, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing from it. Y/N, you’re a good liar, but you can’t lie to me, not about this.”

You were quiet at that, glancing down at the floor as if you had nothing to say. “I didn’t,” you finally answered, tone firm. “Maybe you did, but I--”

Unable to stop herself, Jennie rushed forward again and tugged you into another kiss, her hands scrunching into the hair splayed over your shoulders. She was almost afraid that you’d push her away, curse her and throw her out of your apartment, but she felt your lips moving against yours. She felt your hands splay on her back, and she felt tears slipping down your face.

When you finally did push her away, it was gentle, though you were rough when you wiped the tears off your face. Jennie wished you’d speak first, but she brought herself to speak. “If your smiles were fake, think of the real ones you brought to me. Even if my smiles were from your facade, that’s still a part of you. I know that though you weren’t trying to, you let me see the real you. And I’m willing to see the rest of you,” Jennie smiled, clasping your hands within hers. Sometime along the way, she’d started crying too, but the salt of those tears was almost honeyed on her lips. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you sighed, accepting the kiss that Jennie pressed to your forehead with a teary smile. “I want nothing more than that, Jen. And-- I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she laughed, wiping the tears of your face so much gentler than you did. “I know what I want now. It’s you, and it has been you since you tried buying me a green juice in that damn coffee place. I like you, Y/N. So much.”

You tucked your face into the crook of her neck and snaked your arms around her waist again. “I like you too. More than I ever thought I could.”

And maybe, just maybe, you knew what you wanted too. Somehow, that mask you wore had long been tossed to the side. Somehow, each kiss pressed to your face by the girl you never knew you needed to find lingered on your skin like the touch of a miracle, and the smile on your face was finally, finally genuine like you had always wanted it to be.

[arvinsescape]

Impossibilities.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this one, bit different of a topic to deal with. I have read a lot of stories of these things happening, I have put warnings in and if the topic is too much please don’t read. I will accept constructive critiscm. (I understand that what happens throughout this writing is not a reality for some but it is a work of fiction and I absolutely hold no intent to offend anyone.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, talks of infertility, language.

W/C: 5K... there may be typos.

You were almost in shock as you stared at the test in your hand. Impossible. There was no way that this was true, it couldn’t be, you’d been told as much. You furrowed your brows as you looked up at the doctor.

“This isn’t, this can’t be right.” You stumbled out.

“It is, we’ve tested you almost every way possible. You’re pregnant.” He confirmed and you still couldn’t work out how it made you feel.

You’d never considered this as an option, you were told when you turned sixteen that you couldn’t have children, that you were infertile. You struggled with bad periods and when you went to the doctors they ran full tests on you and that’s how you found out. You’d never thought about children, why would you have? The idea of being a mother wasn’t something you ever considered and now you were faced with it, well you didn’t know how to feel.

You were terrified, you’d come here today because you thought you were ill, not pregnant. You wondered if you were dreaming, you were so sure you’d turned your alarm off and rolled out of bed this morning for this appointment. It must have been a dream, there was no way this was possible.

The doctor continued to look and you and you looked up at him, you couldn’t speak, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even know how you should feel, let alone what to say about it. “Would you like us to call Mr Holland?” The doctor asked, he’d grown concerned over your quiet demeanor.

“No,” you shook your head. “He’s away.” You continued quietly.

“Would you like me to call someone for you?” He asked again and you shook your head.

“No, I’m okay. I just, I don’t know. I’d never considered this a possibility. Will it make it? The baby I mean?” You asked quietly and the doctor gave you a small smile.

“You stand the same chance as every other woman who falls pregnant.” He offered, it was almost a comfort to you, the worry setting in that you’d miscarry because you genuinely believed the universe didn’t pick you to have children. You nodded slightly as you stood. “You should talk to your husband.” He added.

“I will.” You confirmed, you just didn’t know how and when. You’d told him about your infertility early on in the relationship so you could save a broken heart down the line, save him getting his hopes high as the relationship progressed. He’d mentioned the idea of adoption, but it was something you both wanted to wait for and hadn’t fully decided if you were going to, what if this hindered the plans you’d made together?

Being a married couple who seemingly couldn’t have children, you’d planned your lives to work a little differently. It never involved a family in your mid-twenties. You’d been with him for three years, married six months and now you were about to become parents. Where would this leave you?

You suddenly felt guilty, you were part of an extraordinarily rare group of women. Shouldn’t you be jumping for joy? Maybe you would be if you weren’t so shocked. You hadn’t exactly been trying, of course you’d gone three years having unprotected sex with no birth control but there was never any need. You were never doing it for the purpose of procreating. You didn’t even track your period, that’s how much you believed you couldn’t conceive.

You made your way out of the doctors, sitting in your car as you pressed your forehead against the steering wheel. You debated telling Tom your appointment was over but ultimately decided not to. He was only an hour ahead of you from where he was filming, you knew he’d be waiting for your text or call but you weren’t ready to have the conversation, you still had a lot to process first. The drive home was almost a blur, making your way back to your shared house.

Tess greeted you, jumping up at you as you mindlessly stroked her head, making your way into the kitchen, she was hot on your heels, your greeting towards her wasn’t what she wanted, it felt off. It was like she always sensed when you were out of sorts or having a bad day, she’d follow you around, make sure you were okay. Pouring yourself a glass of water you thought about what you should do.

Your thoughts spiraled more the more you thought about how you were going to tell your husband. You wanted to feel complete and utter joy, but you couldn’t, so many emotions running through your mind at once. It was almost head ache inducing. Your phone buzzed on the side, bringing you from your thoughts as you picked it up, opening a message Tom had sent you.

Tom: You finished yet? Seems like a long appointment. You okay? I’m getting worried not hearing from you xx

You stared at the text, how do you respond? You can’t tell him news like this over a text or a phone call, it didn’t seem right. You needed to tell him in person, but he wasn’t due back for a month, you swallowed thickly as typed out your response.

You: Yeah, sorry, I forgot to message, got distracted. I’m okay xx

You read his reply, he was happy you were okay, a light scalding about scaring him like that. You needed to see him, but you couldn’t ask him to come home, he’d only worry more, and he was filming, his schedule was tight. You sighed as you pulled up Harry’s contact, it didn’t take him long to answer.

“Y/N? Hey.” Harry said, his usual chirpy self.

“Hey Harry. Can you send me the details of where you’re staying? Want to surprise Tom.” You said as normal as you could muster.

“You missing him already? He’s only been gone a week.” Harry teased with a short laugh.

“Yeah, I just want to see him.” You confirmed, tone dropping slightly.

“You okay?” Harry asked worriedly, he knew you were always up for a laugh, but you’d not taken the bait, so he knew something was off.

“Yeah, like I say I just miss him.” You sighed, hoping Harry wouldn’t press further. “Just don’t tell him I’m coming, yeah?”

Harry promised he wouldn’t ruin the surprise, giving you the location of the hotel they were stopping in. You put the phone down and booked your flight, the next one wasn’t until tomorrow and you needed to talk to someone about this, you also needed to find cover for your shifts. You killed two birds with one stone as you called your best friend, asking her to come over if she could.

“Y/N? What’s up? You okay?” She asked as she made her way into your home. She knew something was off when Tess didn’t greet her like she usually would. The dog only looking at her to make sure she wasn’t a threat before placing her head back in your lap.

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, you felt tears brim your eyes, the emotional confusion was becoming too much for you. She sat next you, carefully as not to disturb the dog in your lap, who huffed, leaning her head onto you more. She became almost jealous when anyone else tried to comfort you, Tom found it endearing and infuriating at times.

“Have you had a fight with Tom?” She asked carefully, the pups ears pricking up at the mention of her owner. You shook your head in response. “You just missing him a lot?” She pried, trying to get to the bottom of your problem.

“No more than usual.” You answered as you slightly scratched Tess’s head.

“Help me out here Y/N/N, what’s wrong?” She asked and you looked at her, she noticed the tears in your eyes and furrowed her brows. “Y/N/N?” She asked softly and you let the tears fall, you couldn’t help it. Tess standing on your lap as she nudged at your face. She assumed you were missing Tom, she was always so attentive and tried to cheer you up when you cried.

“I’m pregnant.” You said through your tears, pulling Tess into a hug as she placed her head on your shoulder. Your friend looking at you, shocked expression on her face.

“Are you, are you sure?” She asked carefully. Of course she knew about your supposed infertility.

“The doctor said so. I don’t know. I didn’t think it was possible. I know I should probably be happy but it’s so much to take in. I didn’t know this was possible.” You got out. Your friend waited for you to calm down, watching as you cuddled Tessa, the dog licking your cheek every now and again until you calmed down.

“Sorry,” you said as you sniffled, eventually calming down. Your friend smiling at you, in a comforting way. “I just, I don’t know how this is supposed to make me feel.” You said, Tess now peacefully back in your lap.

“I don’t think there’s a hand book for this sort of thing.” Your friend said. “Look, you’re just confused. The impossible has just become possible for you, of course you’re not gonna know how it makes you feel. You told Tom yet?” She asked.

“No, I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know if it’s something he wants right now.” You said, tears welling your eyes. “How do I tell him?”

“I think you should just come out with it. Just say it. He loves you, I’m sure he won’t leave you. This is a good thing.” She reassured as she placed a hand on your shoulder. “A really good thing. Just tell him. I’ll cover your shifts this week, just go and tell him.” She said with a smile.

“You really think he’ll be okay with it? That we’ll be okay?” Being pregnant was already scaring the living hell out of you and the thought of doing it alone? You couldn’t think too much about it right now.

“I know he loves you and I know that the two of you are solid. You guys can work through anything. I think he’ll be over the moon. You’ve been given a chance that not many people in your position do, I know that means you’re scared but you don’t have to be, you’ll be okay. Just let the excitement in.” She said and you took in her words.

Maybe you did need to relax, this was a good thing. You didn’t feel ready to have a child, but you were given a gift that not many other women in your position are. You should be excited, you thought about it for a while, letting the excitement flood you. This felt like a miracle, an absolute gift from the universe.

**

After a relatively short flight you were met with your brother-in-law’s arms, as he picked you up from the airport.

“I could’ve gotten a taxi.” You smiled and Harry shrugged.

“Toms on a closed set, spoilers and all that. Didn’t have anything better to do.” He teased as he nudged your shoulder and you smiled. “Right, out with it.” He said after your lack of usual response.

“What?” You asked, furrowed brows.

“Something’s off. What’s wrong?” He asked, concern written all over him as he opened the passenger door for you, making his way to the driver’s side.

“I just want to see him.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up to play with your bottom lip.

“I appreciate that, I do. But, you had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and all of sudden you’re rushing to see him.” He observed, he cared for you just like he would his own sister.

“How’d you know about that?” You asked and Harry gave you a knowing look, of course Tom will have spent the last few days worrying about it. “Can I tell you when I’ve told Tom?” You asked quietly.

“Wait, are you sick? Like actually ill?” He asked as he pulled into the drive of the hotel. He turned the ignition off and looked at you. “Y/N/N, are you okay?” He asked again and you couldn’t help as you burst into your second fit of tears in two days. He placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry I’m just worried.” He furrowed his brows, when you didn’t respond he sighed as he pulled you into a hug.

“I don’t know what to do.” You said vaguely.

“About what?” He asked as he hugged you tighter, it was awkward positioning, but you felt slightly better.

“Harry I need to tell Tom something and I don’t know how he’ll react.” You sobbed, something about being in the hotel grounds had your nerves shooting through you, you weren’t far off Tom right now.

“Hey, whatever it is it’ll be okay.” He said as he rubbed your back, you silently calmed yourself and he pulled you back to look at him. “Come on, let’s get you to your husband.” He said as you both exited the car.

The walk through the hotel didn’t feel long enough, your nerves felt like they were eating away at your heart, making your breathing more difficult as you tried to calm them. Harry was quiet as he led you through the halls. When he stopped outside the door you knew was Tom’s hotel room, you felt panic rise, you couldn’t do this.

“Harry, I can’t.” You said as you stopped him opening the door. He whipped to look at you.

“Y/N/N, when has there ever been a point in your relationship where you haven’t been able to talk about something?” He reassured and you sighed.

“This is different.” You said and Harry smiled sadly.

“It’s nothing you guys can’t handle. You’re a strong couple you know.” He reassured as he grasped your hand in his. You’d always been close to Tom’s family, they became like your own brother’s. “Come on.” He said as he opened the door with the second key, Tom had his back to the door.

“Harry? Where’d you go?” He asked, knowing it was his younger sibling.

“Went to pick up a present for you.” Harry smiled and Tom turned with furrowed brows.

“Wh- Y/N/N?” Tom let out a breath of surprise. Seeing him after almost eight days apart still brought that feeling of excitement in you as your feet moved before you could stop them. Running to him as he opened his arms, ready to catch you. Your body collided with his as he picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

You inhaled his scent, letting it calm your nerves, it always did. His scent and being in his arms, grounded you, kept you sane. It wasn’t long before the panic set in, what if he wouldn’t be there to ground you anymore? What if he didn’t want this? It was hard, you knew everything about him apart from his want or lack of when it came to children. You didn’t know how he was gonna react.

“I’m just gonna.” You heard Harry excuse himself as he heard your sobs start again. Tom stiffened slightly, holding you tighter.

“What’s wrong? Hey, it’s only been eight days, we’ve done more.” He said as he lightly shrugged his shoulder, forcing you to look at him. He took in your face, how tired you looked, it wasn’t until he settled on your eyes that he saw the fear in them, he didn’t miss a single detail when it came to you. “What’s happened?” He asked and you shook your head before stuffing your face back into his neck.

He held you, let you cry, he knew you’d talk but he wouldn’t push you. As worried as he was he’d wait for you to calm down, wait until you were ready. You stayed like that for a good five minutes before he heard your breathing calm and sniffles quieten, running a hand through your hair and running a hand up and down your thigh in comfort.

“Tom?” You whimpered and his heart shattered, he couldn’t decipher what the fuck was going on and it scared the shit out of him. You’d seen him and cried your eyes out, your sobs shaking your body in a way that had Tom’s heart hammering in his chest.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked, voice soft as he kissed your temple. “What happened?” His grip tightened when you tried to get down, your body had still clung to him like he’d disappear. Hands relaxed as you let go of the tight grip on his t shirt. He didn’t want to let you go.

“Can I get down please? You might want to sit for this.” You said and Tom furrowed his brows as he did as you asked. He studied you for a moment before you gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, wiping at your sore nose. You’d rubbed it so much after all your crying that it felt a little tender. He sat and you sat next to him, taking his hands in your shaking ones as you played with his fingers, he knew you did that when you were nervous or extremely relaxed and he deciphered the reason easily.

“Hey,” he said as he let you continue playing with his digits. “You can talk to me, sweetheart you’re scaring me here.” Tom said, voice incredibly soft, he was scared if he talked any louder you’d break, he’d never seen you so vulnerable.

You breathed in, you had to say it, he’d find out eventually, it wasn’t exactly something you could hide. On top of that you and Tom didn’t do secrets, not between each other. You let out a shaky breath as you looked at your husband, nothing but worry and care reflecting in his eyes.

“I,” you started, voice hoarse from all your crying. “I don’t know how to say it.” You admitted and Tom’s heart dropped, he’d never in your entire relationship seen you so vulnerable, never seen you at such a loss for words.

“Just say it. Rip the bandage of?” He offered in aid, and he heard you take in a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m pregnant.” You breathed out in a whisper. Tom didn’t catch it as he pulled one of his hands from your grasp, eyebrows furrowing as you pulled it back into your grasp. You were grounding yourself, using his hands as a way to keep your emotions in check. He knew that which is why he left his hand he’d previously tried to free.

“Sorry darling, I didn’t catch that.” Tom said as he placed his chin on your head. You played with his wedding ring on his finger for a moment, twirling it on his finger, it wasn’t as mindlessly as you usually did it, before you spoke again, it was still quiet, but Tom didn’t miss it. The words echoing around the silent hotel room. Of all the things he expected to be wrong, this was not it.

“What? How?” Tom got out, shock taking over his system. He didn’t think this was possible, didn’t think you could.

“I’m sorry.” You said, voice quiet, no tears but Tom would be surprised if you had any left. You placed your head on his chest as you waited for his response. You were nervous, incredibly so and Tom was shocked.

It was your fingers playing with his more harshly as you grew more nervous of his silence that brought him crashing back to Earth. His heart hammering in his chest, excitement bubbling through his system. He felt like he’d just been told he was King of the world, felt like every good piece of news had come back to him all at once. This was a miracle.

“Say it again.” Tom said with a smile on his lips, he needed to hear you say it again, just so he knew it was true.

“I’m pregnant Tom.” You said and he couldn’t help himself as he let a tear fall, his chest filling with a happiness he hadn’t felt since you’d said, ‘I do,’ and he was sure this was even happier than then. You’d done something you were told was impossible. “Are you angry?” You asked, voice small as you grasped a hand around his wedding finger.

“Angry? Princess this is the best news in the world. We’ve been given a chance, one most couples don’t.”

You looked up at him and studied his face, it was full of nothing but joy and adoration, you smiled sadly as you let the excitement settle in your chest. You didn’t have to do this alone, he wanted this. You both did.

“I’m scared.” You voiced your concern.

“You’ve got me, and I’ve got you.” He said reassuring as he kissed at your cheeks. “We can do this. Together, like everything else.” He said again and you let go of his fingers as you hugged him, strong hands finding your back as he pulled you tight against him

**

A month later and Tom had quit the role, the director and his agent understanding, he needed to be here for this, he couldn’t and wouldn’t miss it. He didn’t care if it gave him a bad name, you and your baby came first, always. Luckily everyone understood, well everyone involved in making the film. You still needed to tell your families, your mum and dad had cried at the news, your dad unbelievably so. Your sister was nothing but ecstatic for you, it was not time to tell Tom’s family, Harry had been worried after your exchange when he picked you up, but he stopped pushing when Tom reassured him you were okay.

“What? I thought?” Harry started as he looked at the couple in shock, of course Tom had told him that you were unable to have children. He’d told all of his family to stop the questions about them cropping up.

“So did we.” You said with a smile, nothing but excitement was left now, all your fears and concerns leaving your system.

“Are they certain?” Sam asked, he was just as shocked as Harry.

“Yeah.” Tom said, you’d been to a couple of doctors to confirm the news, the two of you both lived for a solid week thinking you were dreaming and almost needed it confirming as many times as was possible.

“I’m so happy for you.” Harry said with a wide smile, engulfing you in a hug, squeezing you tight.

“Have you told mum and dad?” Sam asked, smile matching his twin’s.

“Not yet.”

“Mum’s gonna cry.” Harry smiled.

**

“What?” Dom asked, like everyone else, nothing but shock evident.

“Oh Tom,” his mother said as she hugged him, smile on her face as she cried tears of happiness. “This is a miracle.” She said and Tom smiled as he hugged his mother back.

“I thought it wasn’t possible.” Dom was still in disbelief.

“So did I.” You said and Dom pulled you into a hug.

“I couldn’t be more happy for you.” He said into your ear.

His parents understood this was different for you, Tom had made the choice where you’d not had one. As harsh as it sounds Tom could have called it quits in the early stages of your relationship when you’d told him. Whereas for you, you’d lived your life thinking it didn’t matter who you married you’d never have the choice and here you were. Nikki was the next to pull you into her chest.

“I’m so unbelievably happy for you, you have no idea how happy I am for you right now.” She cried into your shoulder, and you smiled, Tom mouthing a slight ‘sorry’ over her shoulder before his dad pulled him into a hug.

**

It wasn’t until your three month scan that things got incredibly emotional, when the nurse had placed the gel on your stomach to listen for a heartbeat. You all heard two and the only person who didn’t catch on was you, you assumed it was your own heartbeat. Tom cried when he heard them, cried so incredibly hard and you assumed it was because he’d heard his child’s heartbeat for the first time and it was, but it wasn’t only that.

“I knew twins ran in the family but Jesus fucking christ.” Tom muttered as he sniffled, and you looked at him confused.

“What?”

“Darling, there’s two heart beats.” Tom said as he looked at you, how had you not caught on. You looked to the nurse for help.

“Mrs Holland, you’re having twins.” She smiled and you almost screamed in joy. How had you gotten so lucky? You couldn’t help as you pulled your husband into your arms, he let out a slight breath as you pulled him to your chest and cried into his hair.

**

Neither you nor Tom cared the gender of your child, male or female, you were ecstatic. The baby reveal was incredible, it brought tears to everyone’s eyes as they watched the two of you with your little confetti canons.

“Okay, darling. On three?” He asked, nerves kicking in for the both of you. He whispered out the numbers and on three you both set your canons off. Blue confetti showered everything in its path, they were both boys. You heard as Harry and Paddy practically roared in excitement, Sam clapping his older brother on the shoulder with a ‘congrats.’

Tom picked you up and cried into your chest, you were both over the moon. You ran your hands through his hair as you kissed the top of his head, you’d never seen him as emotional in the last few months, he cried at everything do to do with your pregnancy.

“We’re gonna have nephews!” You heard Paddy scream as he fist bumped Harry, the two had been adamant they were both boys. You smiled at their excitement.

**

The labour was long and hard, you felt like you couldn’t carry on through the last four hours. Both boys being born, half an hour apart, you both cried, Tom cutting the umbilical cords with shaky hands.

“I’m so proud of you.” Tom said as he kissed your temple, you were sweaty and in your opinion probably looked like shit, not to Tom though. You looked like an absolute angel.

“I never thought I’d have this.” You said in a small and tired voice, a wave of emotions hitting you.

“I know sweetheart.” Tom said, he knew there really was nothing else to say, no ‘if’, ‘buts’ or ‘maybes.’ What had happened for the two of you was an absolute miracle, a chance not many were given.

“I love you.” You said as a tear slipped, and Tom was quick to wipe it away as he moved the sweaty mess of hair from your forehead.

“I love you to, more than anything.” He said as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Tom, I’m all sweaty.” You groaned as you tried to calm your onslaught of emotions and he laughed.

“How do you think these guys were made, we had to get a little sweaty then didn’t we?” Tom teased and you lifted a tired hand to slap his shoulder. He laughed as he pulled away to hold your hand.

“Thank you.” You said as you played with his fingers, particularly the wedding ring that rested on his finger. Although this time, it wasn’t out of nerves, you were content, happy, in pure bliss.

“What for?” He asked, the gratitude confused him.

“For staying with me, sticking by me.” You said as you closed your eyes slightly, you were so tired, a long labour having caught up with you.

“I told you when I asked you to marry me, I’m never going anywhere, no matter what. Get some rest darling.” He said but it fell on deaf ears, your breathing evening out as you looked the most content and happy he’d ever seen you in his life, sleep consuming you. Your hand didn’t leave his, your two healthy boys were currently sleeping next to your bed. As Tom looked around the room at his family that was much bigger than he’d anticipated at the start of the year he counted his blessings that whoever was up there had given you a chance.

[shotorozu]

Heya! I love your writing. Could I request scenarios for Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya and Denki (if that’s ok, and if not, just cut Denks 😔) with a S/O that snorts when they laugh and their a little insecure about it, so they usually cover their mouth as soon as it happens or just try not to laugh at anything and as a result they put up this serious front when, in reality, they are really just ✨a crackhead✨

s/o that doesn’t like their laugh

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, kirishima eijirou, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto, kaminari denki

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack-ish (if you squint, there’s a dash hurt and comfort)

note(s) : PLS i can relate to this, my laugh is a cross hybrid of a window being cleaned, and a hyena 🗿 i normally don’t write 5 characters in one post but.. exceptions will be made. sorry that this took so long! will go back to writing requests

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

he was very confused, and shocked?? it was a lot

you and him are very similar, like,, out of all the people in 1-A, he’s never seen you laugh like.. hysterically.

it was always normal for him to surpress his laughter when the times are right. but even when you guys got together, he never saw you laugh

which was just a “hm.. okay? wtf, i haven’t seen them laugh before??” moment

and don’t get me wrong, it’s not like you’re emotionless, and he HASN’T seen you laugh, it’s more like you just cut yourself off before it gets too intense

which is.. 🤨 weird. to him at least

laugh if you need to laugh, he doesn’t get why you always cut yourself off, like smh the audacity

okay so imagine this, you’re sitting in the kitchen— only a few feet away from katsuki, as he finishes cooking for you, just like any normal day

but i also headcanon that bakugou likes to taste test his cooking, before he can serve it to you. y’know— just in case he accidentally used bad ingredients which is rare, since he’s very precise with cooking

so he prepares the plate and utensils, and before he serves it to you— he takes a quick taste to see how it is, but his face immediately twists in disatisfaction

“what the fuck—” he sputters, looking at the plate “who the fuck switched the salt and sugar?”

and that seemed to be your breaking point, you immediately burst out into a fit of giggles and snorts, even with katsuki still recovering from the weird after taste.

if it was any other person, he would’ve chucked them out of the kitchen— but seeing you laugh out loud like this left him appalled

but your laughing episode is cut short when you realize that katsuki’s just staring. not saying anything, nor is he telling you off for laughing.

his expression looks so indifferent from seeing you laugh?? so you simply just apologize “sorry, i know the laugh is ugly.”

katsuki quickly snaps out of it, ruby irises glaring at you “ugly? when the hell did i say that?” he questions, voice gruff

your silence makes him think that you’re actually insecure about your laugh, an despite the weird aftertaste in his mouth, he decides to speak

“look, it was nice seeing you laugh, idiot.” he adds, because it sounded a little too nice “i don’t get why you have to hold your laughter back, especially around me. laugh if you need to, i’m not gonna judge you.”

plus, he’s not the person to judge you for your laugh anyway, his laugh.. is questionable for sure. i wouldn’t say it’s any better, so that would’ve be hypocritical of him

“you sure?”

“hell yeah i’m fuckin’ sure! but anyway, i’m gonna kill the bitch that switched the salt and sugar!” he gets up from the table, plate in hand as he goes to fix the meal

he surely can’t see your face right now, but when he hears you laugh, he can’t find himself not being able to smile.

he can only look forward to seeing you laugh again.

kirishima eijirou

his first reaction was :00 and 😳

so he was kind of left to his own thoughts when he realized that,, he hasn’t seen you laugh wildly before

and it’s not like you were just 😐 the entire time, you just always covered your mouth whenever you wanted to laugh

it was a big mystery to him, but he doesn’t think it’s quite manly to ask you that, it wasn’t long before he found out anyway

so! i headcanon that kirishima has his lil gaming night with the bakusquad maybe once or twice a week, they usually choose to communicate through the voice chat so.. no physical interaction.

and you’re just there, spectating the entire thing. because you still wanted to spend time with eijirou— but you didn’t want to interrupt his weekly gaming moment

so there’s a twist— he was actually playing a rpg multi-player horror game with the bakusquad, so.. jumpscares, am i right?

you were just sitting there on his bed, just watching if there’s anything interesting so far— and surprise! there’s a jumpscare.

eijirou jumps a little from the impact, and you can just hear the faint girlish screams of bakugou and kaminari, even from this length— basically telling all of them to just fucking dip! run the other way!

AND YOU WEREN’T EXPECTING BAKUGOU TO SCREAM SO.. HIGH PITCHED?

so you just start laughing when you hear the continuous screams, from his headset rip kiri’s ear drums and while kirishima tried to focus on the objective, he couldn’t help but turn around

just to see you laughing your ass off. and he’s there like 😳 they’re laughing?? they’re laughing!

so kirishima quickly finishes the game, but he just found himself in a state of shock. but then you covered your mouth so :(( aw.

you notice that he finished his game, so you just stop laughing entirely “oh— are you finished, eijirou?”

he’s still kind of taken aback by the laugh, and you seem to have noticed his reaction “wait, did you.. hear that?”

when you see eijirou nod, your expression seemed shell shock— which confused him, until you told him that you assumed that he didn’t hear you because of the headphones

“what? is it bad?” he asks with genuine curiousity, but you just explain that you’re just embarrassed. because the laugh itself is ugly

which kirishima disagrees!! >:(( your laugh had him in awe. he loves seeing you laugh, and it was a nice surprise.

“i love hearing you laugh! it makes me happy— i don’t see any reason that you should be ashamed of it, everyone’s laugh is different, after all.”

you’d say he’s lying, but the genuine toothy grin on kirishima face convinces you that he has the purest intentions.

midoriya izuku

now that i’ve thought about it, have we ever seen this boy burst into laughter?? this excludes the hospital scene of course.

but he’s not too concerned about himself not being able to freely laugh, but it was more like he was curious (or concerned) about you

you’re always quick to either cut yourself off, or you just cover your mouth entirely. and he can’t help but feel curious!

he asked you at some point on why you do those things when you laugh, but you just shrugged. so until that point, it was just simply a mystery— that’s left to his own imagination

so whenever midoriya creates new moves with his quirk, he’d have the sudden desire to show his s/o and ask if the move would be practical in anything. because why not

and we all know how much midoriya trains right? he’s quite the hard worker. but you were taking a nap in the afternoon, after finishing your school work for the day

it’s probably reaching 3pm now, and izuku finished making new moves with his quirk, and he was eager to show you!

he didn’t want to do this but he ended up waking you up anyway, and he brought you outside to show you the new moves

“look at this, Y/N!” he says, all excited oh boy

what he didn’t expect was how fast he was going— missing the entire key move, and he started plummetting to the ground (similar to a ragdoll being thrown)

you were still partially dowsy, and you weren’t expecting him to fall to the ground like THAT, so you started laughing hard

and because you’re still drowsy, you don’t recognize that you’re actually laughing— yeah, izuku may be still on the ground, but wow. you’re laughing!!

he’s surely taken back, because he’s never actually seen you burst into laughter like this, he was just

yet, you immediately slap your hand over your mouth— when you realize that you’re actually laughing out loud, and snorting in front of your boyfriend wjdnwkx

“i’m sorry, izuku” you regain composure, immediately rushing to his aid to help him up, “you didn’t need to hear, or see that.”

but why are you apologizing? he’s the one that dragged you out here to see him fail 💀 “no, no! it’s fine Y/N. i was just surprised, that’s all.”

the expression on his face kind of worries you— because omg what if he thinks the laugh was ugly? i’ll never laugh again.

“i’d understand if you’d think my laugh was kind of ugly, izu—”

“what— it’s not ugly!” he’s quick to object “i think.. it’s really nice. it surprised me, but your laugh’s interesting! in the good way, and it’s also kind of cute, uhm—.” pls don’t give him a heart attack

you shake your head, because you already have a good idea of what he feels— and it’s quite positive. “i get it, izuku. thank you for the reassurance.”

he finally calms down when you give him a quick smooch on the lips. in short, you were the one to calm him down rip

todoroki shouto

he’s definitely curious about it

i mean, it’s a natural occurence at this point— shouto was already observant of you, what more when he started developing feelings for you

once again, not someone who freely laughs (he’s quite oblivious with the socializing part so it’s too be expected) but that doesn’t mean you should mirror him

like midoriya, he probably tried speaking to you about it— but you always reassured him that it was just a subconscious habit still odd but.. if you say so

so, shouto’s downstairs in the kitchen right? he’s preparing a snack to bring up to your room, and while he was trying his best to hurry up with it

you eventually trekked downstairs, and saw shouto preparing said snack. so what do you do? you surprise him!

“shouto!” you peak behind him, and he’s startled because he thought he was alone this entire time

so— he might’ve accidentally started a mini fire out of shock, and he’s quick to realize that

🧍 there’s a fire. that i’ve created. it was a miracle that he didn’t set off the alarms

the situation is handled pretty quickly, since he’s fast enough to put out the fire. but now, shouto’s just staring at the burned piece of snack.

silence.

“..there was an attempt.” he says it simply, while also equipped with a rather frazzled expression.

this causes you to burst out into a fit of laughter, snorting at the scene in front of you— the comment being oddly hilarious

he’s the personification of 🧍right now, and shouto’s just watching at the rare scene of you hunched over the kitchen counter, snorting from laughter

“i’m sorry, shouto.” you cover your mouth, still trying to regain your composure “i’m sorry that i scared you but.. it was kind of funny.”

shouto’s just thinking “..they were laughing.” not in a bad way, of course. he’s heard people laugh at his ‘jokes’ but this was definitely a different feeling.

shouto being well,, shouto. he’s going to be blunt with his words “your laugh is pretty.”

but your first reaction is 👁👁?? PRETTY?? “shouto, out of all the things my laugh could be— you chose pretty?” you’re looking at him like he’s crazy rn

he’s really confused like,, “yeah. your laugh is pretty, is that bad?”

so then you explain that you just never perceived your laugh as pretty, only because you ‘snorted like a pig’ he thought that was a little sad to hear

“i don’t see a reason that you should be ashamed of your laugh, Y/N.” he moves closer, setting a cool hand on your shoulder “every part of you is special in their own individual way. and i’ll love every part of it.”

“you,, mean that? like really??” you ask, and he confirms it with a nod, resting his head against your shoulder “i’m sorry that i burned your snack.”

“it’s fine. i’m sorry i scared you,”

“if it made you laugh then.. i’d say it’s worth it.” and you can’t really think that he’d lie, just by the way his mismatched eyes stare at you in pure adoration.

kaminari denki

the only person here that laughs freely whenever and wherever, he has that class clown type of beat

he was a little sad to see that you always covered your mouth whenever you laughed, since it sort of makes his day to see people laugh at his jokes

but of course, he’d never judge you— he may be curious about certain things but,, he’ll never secondguess you as a whole

similar to todoroki and midoriya, he’ll ask you in a lighthearted way on why you cover your mouth whenever you laugh

and you always brush it off, so he’d just have to respect that

i’d imagine that he’d encounter your laugh when you guys are doing your daily cracktivities

you guys were already quite good friends before you guys started dating, and this was quite a habit that always occurred maybe once or twice a week

the both of you were desperately trying to hold in the laughter that threatened to escape your lips, at 2am 💀

and the both of you guys were watching compilations of that talent show livestream on youtube (tiahra nelson’s to be specific)

so you’re still holding in your laughter, and reaches to that point in the video, where tiahra nelson was watching that dude sing ‘electric love’ (ref : this video)

seeing denki’s shocked reaction made you realize that— you just can’t hold it in anymore, so, you bursted into a fit of snorts and laughter, sliding onto denki’s shoulder

denki’s still holding in his laughter because he doesn’t want to get busted by iida or something— but oh my, YOUR LAUGH IS CONTAGIOUS TO HIM

he’s never heard you laugh this hard but omg, your laugh is contagious as hell— so he starts laughing with you 💀

eventually, the laughing does die down— and you guys move on to the next video. it’s oddly quiet at first, because the realization had just hit you and hard

you snorted in front of your boyfriend, and you’re sure that he doesn’t care that much but,, wow, you are embarrassed.

“wow— your laugh is contagious,” denki slides his hand across your shoulder, and while he’s been trying to keep the atmosphere at it’s normal, he’s quite nervous??

“it was a new experience uhm, sorry, i don’t know what i’m saying, and i know you’d be insecure about it all and..” he fumbles with his words for a bit, because denki isn’t THE BEST with serious things

“your laugh is cute.” his eyes are glued onto the screen, and his tone is basically stating that he’s right. your laugh is really cute

“you’re cheesy,” you playfully smack his chest, but you can’t help but feel quite bashful of his words

no but really,, whenever you laugh, denki starts to laugh along with you, since it’s so contagious he’s not that sorry about it

moving past the sappy shit, it’s quite helpful in cracktivities 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

[hxseok-honee]

blossom || part 20

blossom [part 20] || "Closure..."

[‘cause all i need is to see you blossom out, blossom out, blossom out]

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : welcome to another 'is this a hobi chapter or is this a yoongi chapter' chapter!!!

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When Y/n leaves Gryffindor common room, her bottom lip is quivering. She’s not sure why, and she’s definitely not sure what to do about it. So she just walks. She doesn’t make the active choice to head in a certain direction, but before she knows it she’s heading downstairs toward the kitchens — she only realizes that she’d been walking to Hoseok when she turns the corner toward Hufflepuff common room and finds him there, sitting in the corridor, exactly where he said he’d be.

He looks up when he hears her shoes on the cement, his face lighting up when he sees that it’s her.

“Y/n! I was wondering if you were gonna come find me. That’s actually the reason I told you where I was-- wait, what’s wrong?” The excited rambling dies in his throat when he looks up at her properly and sees her face -- the loss in her eyes, the way she’s pursing her lips to stop them from shaking. She looks so unbelievably sad, but it clearly hasn’t registered in her own mind that she is, because she’s looking at him in confusion now.

“What do you mean?” Assessing the situation in the split-second way only someone as observant as him could, Hoseok pats the ground beside him, deciding not to be so up-front about his concerns. She settles onto the cold ground, scooting in close to press her side against his, seeking warmth. He says nothing about it, but he’s grateful -- it gets cold in the corridors in winter, and he likes the feelings she gives him when she’s close more than he’d care to admit.

“Did something happen today?” He asks while he’s looping a flower through the twine and taping it down, the same one he’d been working on when she’d arrived. When she doesn’t respond right away, he glances over at her, taking in the faraway look in her eyes -- and then he leaves her be. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.

“I talked to Jungkook tonight… we just finished talking, actually.” Hoseok isn’t sure why he’s tensing -- whether it’s because he’s worried about how she’s doing or whether Jungkook had said something to upset her. Or maybe it’s because of the little irrational voice in the back of his head telling him that somehow, Jungkook had convinced her to get back together with him. The idea of that makes him vaguely nauseous, but he does his best not to show it when he responds.

“Oh… How did it go?” He can see her nodding slowly out of the corner of his eye, meaning that it went well.

“He apologized. Said he would leave me alone and do his best to work on himself before trying to be my friend again… I guess he really wants to do things the right way this time… So that’s good…” Hoseok doesn’t say anything, staring at the ground in front of them as he waits for something else from her, any indication of how she’s feeling because all she’s done so far is give an objective retelling of the conversation. But she doesn’t speak again, so he turns to her slowly, suddenly apprehensive.

“Are you okay?” Blinking rapidly until she’s able to focus on Hoseok again, she nods, turning to him with a small smile.

“I’m okay, Hobi… relieved… sad… but okay.” He feels glad that she trusts him enough to tell him that she’s upset, but he’s not sure how to help. So he sets the unfinished flower crown on the floor in front of him, reaching over and pulling her hand into his lap so he can interlock his fingers with hers. He doesn’t say anything -- he’s not sure why she’s sad, but he knows there has to be a really good reason for her to not be overwhelmed by the happiness of finally having gotten the closure she needed--

“Closure…” He whispers to himself, realizing with a small shake of his head that he’d taken too long to put it together. Y/n looks up at him from where she’s just rested her head on his shoulder, wondering where his thoughts have gone. He squeezes her hand, meeting her eyes with a small smile. “It’s the closure… isn’t it?”

Y/n frowns, unsure what he’s getting at. And then she thinks about it -- the amount of time she’d spent being annoyed with Jungkook for not letting her have exactly that. The summer spent crying over him and then deciding that she needed to be over him by the time school started again, never giving herself a chance to reach her own form of acceptance. Closure’s exactly what she’d needed this whole time, and months later, she’s got it at last. But for some reason, knowing that she and Jungkook are finally done -- knowing that now they needed to work on their friendship more than anything — it brings her a sense of incredible loss, like finally tossing the key to the door she’d locked up so long ago and moving on from it for good.

She eventually nods, laying her head against Hoseok’s shoulder again. She doesn’t want to say more, still trying to work through her own emotions, but she knows he won’t mind -- he’s always known what she needs without her saying it aloud. But she wants to make sure he knows that she’s fully aware of him, that he’s not just the boy she runs to when she’s an emotional wreck. Because it’s starting to worry her, and she would hate for him to think that about their relationship.

Hoseok seems like a really good guy. I hope he makes you happy.

The memory of Jungkook’s text shakes her, and her stomach’s alight with nerves when she realizes that, yeah, Hoseok does make her happy. Even when he thinks he’s not doing anything at all, he’s making her happier than she’d felt in a long time. He makes her happy even when she doesn’t realize that happy’s the one thing she’s been longing for.

“Thank you, Hobi. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” Hoseok stills when she whispers it, never lifting her head from his shoulder. He almost feels like he imagined it. But she’s pulling away from him now, craning her neck so she can find his eyes. He turns to her, too, eyes wide and a breathless laugh of disbelief leaving him.

“But I didn’t do anything…” She smiles then, having known he’d say that.

“You’re perfect as you are. Right next to me like this.” It makes her nervous, saying something like that to his face, but she means it. Because Jung Hoseok never believes he’s enough, even if he hides it well. And she needs him to know that he’s not just enough -- he’s perfect. To her, he’s perfect.

Apparently, saying it so blatantly like that has sent a shock through him, because his eyes are blown wide and his mouth is hanging slightly open. She thinks maybe she’s gone too far, but she can also see that his ears are turning red the longer he looks at her, his cheeks coloring in the same way soon after.

“I-- no one’s ever…” He trails off, nowhere near done with his thought but unable to get the rest of the words out. No one’s ever thought of me as important. The way Y/n’s looking at him, he knows that she’s aware of where his thoughts had gone, that she can see him even when he’s hiding. It’s scary, being vulnerable to someone the way he is right now. But he can’t say he would have it any other way, not if it’s her that’s seeing right through him.

“Y/n… I think… I think I--” I think I have feelings for you. It should have been so easy to say -- he almost has all the words out, he just has to finish saying them. But he can’t. Because he’d already told her the kiss had meant nothing. He’d already told her they could keep going as they are now. That nothing had to change. Because he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of their friendship, not when things between her and her ex were so precarious. He’d been too happy beside her like he is now, and he hadn’t been willing to risk it. But now he wishes he had. And he has no idea, but she wishes he had, too.

Before he can gather the courage to start again -- to say it again, clearly this time -- her phone is buzzing, Yoongi’s face and contact lighting up the screen when she pulls it out of her pocket. Hoseok swallows whatever awkward confession he’d been about to make, watching as Y/n frowns at her phone.

She’d texted him over an hour ago, and when he hadn’t responded right away, she’d just assumed he was in the midst of his usual nighttime business -- there’s no way he could already be done. It’s not even 11pm yet. Lifting the phone to her ear, she answers with confusion.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice is calm, and she can tell he’s aiming to keep it that way, but his breathlessness is coming through the speaker against his will.

“Uh… by Hufflepuff -- why?” She hears him sigh, a huff of irritation that’s somehow also him trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I came all the way to Gryffindor Tower for nothing? So many fucking stairs--” He cuts off again, and she can hear his feet hitting the ground in quick succession, so she knows he’s running. He keeps talking, but it’s mostly to himself. “Fucking magical moving staircase, never where I need it when I need it most-- your text was really vague. You good?” Y/n blinks, not having expected to be addressed so suddenly.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine--”

“Liar.” Y/n scoffs, not appreciating his tone.

“Then why ask if you already know, hm?” He chuckles deeply, knowing he’s pissed her off.

“I always like to check if you’ll be honest with me when I ask. You never are.”

“Then stop asking!” Hoseok looks to her then, eyebrows hiding behind his fringe as he watches her expression turn to empty rage. She’s annoyed, but it doesn’t seem like it’ll last. In fact, it’s already gone, because at the end of the corridor, Yoongi’s rounding the corner, phone pressed against his ear as he locates her, sitting there on the ground with Hoseok. When she sees him, her face becomes one of surprise, and she’s lowering her phone when he does, sliding the device into his pocket as he approaches them.

He’s only half-dressed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his sneakers completely untied, the shoelaces dragging across the floor while he walks. How did he not trip on his way here, Hoseok wonders, because that is really an impressive feat in a school as big as Hogwarts. But there are a few things that catch his eye while Yoongi flops down on the ground in front of them and levels Y/n with a hard stare when he finally settles into his spot.

“Why are you guys out here on the cold ass floor?”

“Hobi’s doing flower crowns.”

“That didn’t even come close to answering my question.”

Hoseok doesn’t react to the conversation he’s clearly now a part of, too distracted as his eyes roam the shirtless boy’s form curiously. Because there on Yoongi’s left ribcage is Y/n’s name — not the full thing, just her given name, scribbled in black ink across the expanse of his ribs. Right under his heart. Simple and to the point, much like everything uncomplicated about Min Yoongi, Hoseok’s coming to realize. It’s interesting to him that Yoongi has Y/n’s name tattooed on his body, mostly because he’s wondering how many of Yoongi’s ‘late night visitors’ would have had a problem with it -- just how many times Yoongi’s had to make it clear that he doesn’t care what they think.

The other thing to catch Hoseok’s eye is the necklace that Yoongi wears, a thin silver chain with a simple charm, a black star that sits comfortably between his collarbones. It’s something that otherwise would never have gotten Hoseok’s attention, but he’s seen it before. In fact, he knows that if he’d just turn his head, he’d see its double peeking out from beneath Y/n’s sweater. He thinks that if their bond is this tight, he wouldn’t be surprised to find that Y/n has Yoongi’s name tattooed somewhere on her body, too. It’s a curious thing, their relationship, but he’d said it that day in the forest with her, and he’d meant it. He’s grateful for Yoongi, because he would never have met this version of Y/n without him.

“--checking me out right now, I just know it.”

“He’s not checking you out, dumbass.” Hoseok blinks, coming back to reality at the sound of Y/n’s voice, clear as day. When he looks up from Yoongi’s chest, he finds the boy smirking at him, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“If you’re interested, I am very free tomorrow night.” Hoseok makes a noise of surprise, eyes wide, before he realizes that he’d just been looking Yoongi up and down for at least a full minute. Immediately he’s flushing red because Yoongi’s just propositioned him over a misunderstanding, and the Slytherin is now chuckling at how flustered he is, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Actually, I’m not so sure Y/n would be okay with that -- sorry, Flower Boy. Maybe in another life, when Best Friend Rule 32 doesn’t exist.” Hoseok has no idea what any of the words Yoongi’s just said means, so he’s shaking his head and looking to Y/n for help. She smiles, laying a hand on his shoulder in understanding.

“You’ll have to forgive him -- he reached his sexual awakening way too young in life and now his internal wiring’s a little wonky.” She says it with sarcastic pity, and Yoongi only rolls his eyes before standing.

“Well, I’d love to sit here all night freezing my balls off, but that sounds like something I would definitely not love to do. You gonna be alright here, man? You’re welcome to use Slytherin common room for your flowering if you want.” Hoseok had guessed when Yoongi arrived that he’d come to pick up Y/n, but he hadn’t been expecting the Slytherin to do much more than bid him goodnight. Although warmed by the kindness that Yoongi probably doesn’t even think twice about, he shakes his head with a smile anyway.

“I’m good! I’m just gonna finish this crown and then go to bed — hopefully the party’s dying down a little.” He gestures toward the door to his common room innocently, like he can’t hear the music still blaring loudly even from here. Yoongi raises an eyebrow but nods, reaching out and lifting Y/n to her feet when she takes his hand. He doesn’t let her go, only leading her slowly down the corridor as she turns back to Hoseok.

“Let me know if you get too cold! And make sure you get inside soon, it’s late and you might get sick, and—“

“Oh my God, let the boy live his life, Y/n — you’re not his mom!” Hoseok chuckles when they round the corner, the sounds of their bickering fading into the night.

--

“Weren’t you busy? You’re impossible to get to after the sun goes down, especially when we first get back to school and you have ‘lost time to make up for’ or whatever your crazy logic is.” Yoongi shakes his head with a snicker, pulling her into his bedroom and shutting the door behind them. Jin’s not back yet, and Y/n turns to Yoongi in confusion. He only shrugs.

“Probably with Jimin.” He says nothing more, gesturing to his bed while he slips his shoes off. She does the same, climbing onto the mattress and scooting over to give him room. He’s not telling her something, so she pries because that’s what they do — nothing goes unsaid between them.

“So if you weren’t sleeping with someone…” Yoongi sighs as he turns the light off, making his way to her in the dark.

“I was with Jimin, but we weren’t fucking. My phone died — that’s why I didn’t see your text until I was getting ready for bed, waiting for it to charge.” That explains his state of undress, but it doesn’t explain literally anything else.

“What happened with Jimin? Did you get into a fight or something?” She hears Yoongi snort beside her, and he wiggles an arm under her head so he can be more comfortable.

“Actually, yeah.” Y/n sits up right away, and Yoongi sighs, thinking about how much time he’d just wasted getting his arm under her neck.

“What happened?!” Reaching out, he takes hold of her upper arm, pulling her back down onto the bed.

“Calm down, dork. Nothing’s gonna happen to our group.” She had actually been worried about Yoongi himself, but now that he mentions it, she’s starting to stress about the group dynamic again. Of course something would happen as soon as she and Jungkook resolve their issues.

“He said he didn’t want me coming around just to fuck anymore — that he wasn’t going to be ‘one of many’, whatever that means…” She can see him now that she’s so close to his face, so she catches the way he rolls his eyes in frustration and holds back another sigh. He’s obviously worked up over this, regardless of how he acts.

“But you haven’t been sleeping with anyone else since the first time you slept with Jimin… right?” He’d never actually told her that, and she hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she’d picked up on his behavior since getting back to school — he’d started avoiding making eye contact with people he sleeps with regularly, ignoring texts from numbers he hasn’t saved. It’s all very unlike the Yoongi she knows, so it must be because he’s changing. And it’s confirmed so easily, when he looks into her eyes for a long moment, finally giving an almost imperceptible nod, one that she only picks up on because he’s breaking eye contact, embarrassed.

“Yeah… it’s just Jimin…” She tries so hard to hide her smile, but she fails — this is the first time Yoongi’s ever slept with only one person consistently, if sleeping with Jimin twice could be considered ‘consistent’. She can’t help that she’s a little proud of him.

When he sees the edges of her lips turning up, he rolls his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her away from him until she’s facing the other direction.

“Enough about me. What happened with Jungkook? Did he apologize or do I have to put him in the Hospital Wing?” She turns back around to face him, smiling when he rolls his eyes again, a habit when they’re together.

“He apologized. Said he would work on himself. That he doesn’t want to lose me or the group.” She keeps it short, gives him the cliffnotes because she knows he’ll fill in the gaps himself. And he does, nodding slowly as he looks her over.

“Relieved because you’re free of his demonic badgering — sad because you actually have to cut the cord with him this time?” She purses her lips, finding it interesting that both Hoseok and Yoongi had reached the same conclusion but had delivered their findings in comically different ways. Nodding, she reaches out to play with his piercings while she thinks, fiddling with the rings on his ear just as she has nearly every day since he’d gotten the double helix.

“I’m just happy that things are finally looking up… but yeah, it hurts a little to let go for good. But I’m okay, I promise.” He nods, the piercings slipping from her fingers. She drops her hand to his shoulder with a small sigh, waiting for his response.

“I know you’re okay — you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Suddenly overcome with emotion, Y/n finds herself frowning deeply, her bottom lip starting to quiver just as it had when she’d left Gryffindor. Yoongi sees it, changing the conversation before the waterworks can start.

“Okay, so we talked about Jungkook. Now let’s talk about Hoseok.” Y/n rolls her eyes, shoving at his shoulder this time and forcing him to turn onto his other side.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“I’m just saying, if you’re not going to cuff that man, let me know. Because he really was giving me ‘the eyes’ earlier, if you catch my drift—“

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

[hercleverboy]

persistence

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ when spencer finds out that the reader has a stalker, he is determined to not let history repeat itself. 

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ stalker-like activity, death threats, few swear words, descriptions of blood, puking, spencer being kinda emotionally manipulative

word count ↠   8.2k

“Normality is a paved road. It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow.”-- Vincent Van Gogh

Y/N stared down at the letter in her hands.  Her fingers trembled, tears blurring her vision as she reread the words over and over.  Written in an ominous red ink, a chicken-scratch-like writing filled the page. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

It had all started two months ago. 

First, it was the dark blue Sedan that she began noticing sat across the street from her apartment complex. Of course it easily could’ve belonged to one of the many people who lived in the complex, or perhaps even a friend of theirs. At first, it went unnoticed by her. It was only when she started taking note of the hours it was parked there that she began to get slightly concerned. 

8am to 8pm. Every single day. 

Like clockwork. 

She’d peak through her living room curtains at 8am, and watch the car pull into its usual spot. It wouldn’t move all day but as soon as it struck 8pm, it left again- only to return the next day. 

However, ever the sceptic, she didn’t want to blow the situation out of proportion. Her mind came up with countless possibilities. The owner was staying with a friend who lived close by (but then why would the car not be there overnight?), or perhaps it was an plain-clothed officer doing some form of undercover work? Honestly, there was nothing she hadn’t considered. So while the presence of the unexplainable car was a little unnerving, it wasn’t enough to make her paranoid. 

The paranoia began when sheets of paper began being posted through her letterbox. They always came between the times that the blue car was parked outside, and had only a few words on each one that was delivered. 

‘I’ve been watching you, you know.’ 

‘You’re so beautiful.’ 

‘That boyfriend of yours, does he hold you like I did?’

‘Does he touch you like I did?’

Whilst they weren’t exactly threats, they were enough to set her skin alight. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, jumpy and paranoid. 

Spencer noticed it, too. 

He’d seen the subtle change in his girlfriend’s body language, but didn’t want to push her on the matter. He had asked once, but she’d reassured him that she was fine. So he decided that he’d let her confide in him when she was ready, but that didn’t mean that this change in behaviour didn’t make his heart ache. 

He was a profiler, one of the best, he knew the behavioural tells that signalled fear. 

So what was she so afraid of?

Then the phone calls started. 

Y/N heard the buzz of her phone, assuming it was Spencer calling. He was out of state on a case, but he always called to check up on her, or to notify her he was almost home. Although they didn’t live together yet, Spencer spent most of his spare time at her apartment. (He’d joked once that it was because her place was bigger than his, but really it was because his work took him away from her so often that he wanted to spend any spare minute he could with her.)

Reaching for the device, she frowned as she saw ‘Unknown Number’ flash across the screen. 

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

and then she heard it. 

Heavy, husky breathing on the other end of the line. 

The caller didn’t speak. 

Unease filled her as she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up. She placed her phone down beside her, biting down on her bottom lip as she attempted to rationalise what’d just happened. 

Probably a butt dial, or maybe even a wrong number? 

She pushed it to the back of her mind, distracting herself so that she wouldn’t have to confirm what she already knew was true. 

The second call came two days later. 

Spencer had returned earlier that day from an exhausting but overall successful case. He hadn’t even stopped by his place after landing, instead opting to go straight to Y/N’s apartment, unable to contain his excitement of seeing her for the first time in a week. 

He let himself in with the key she’d given him for their one year anniversary, as he quietly made his way into the home. He called out her name, announcing his presence so she’d know he was home.

When she didn’t come to greet him in the hallway, or even call back to let him know she’d heard him he frowned. He slipped off his shoes before moving down the hallway, his eyes finally landing on her figure in the living room. She was stood by the large window that overlooked the street below them, her phone pressed to her ear. Spencer took in her body language, noting how her shoulders were tensed, and how the hand not holding her phone was gripping tightly onto the curtains as she peaked between them. 

The unknown caller hung up, and Y/N looked down at her phone in her hand, eyes welling with tears- still unaware of Spencer’s presence behind her.  

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, trying not to startle her but still managing to. 

She shrieked, turning around to face him, relief filling her features as she saw the familiar sight of her boyfriend. She forced a smile on her lips and pushed her worries away, wiping the tears from her cheeks quickly and hoping he hadn’t already seen them. “Spence! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you were home.” She chuckled. 

His frown only deepened as he moved toward her. “Is everything okay? Who was that on the phone?” 

Y/N’s breath hitched as she quickly came up with an excuse. “Oh, It was no-one.” She waved it off, hoping she’d played it off well enough to ease his worry. 

Once he reached her he put his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug, his arms around her waist. She sighed, hugging him back with her arms around his neck. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck, placing a kiss there that was so soft and delicate that it almost moved her to tears. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If something’s bothering you or worrying you then you don’t have to keep it to yourself. I’m here.” He whispered. 

“I know.” She whispered back, squeezing him gently to comfort herself. “Thank you.” 

Truth is, she knew she could tell Spencer what was happening. She knew that he would immediately inform his team, and with their wonderful minds and Garcia’s infinite systems, they’d have their unsub within days. So what was stopping her?

or more specifically, who was stopping her?

The answer would be Maeve, the woman that Spencer once loved, who he lost so suddenly and so tragically. She’d heard what had happened, and had comforted Spencer when he cried as he told her of the only other woman he’d ever loved, apart from Y/N. He’d confided in her about Maeve around four months into their relationship, and Y/N was grateful that Spencer trusted her enough to tell her such a thing. Losing the person you loved like that? Y/N couldn’t fathom it. Her heart ached for Spencer, and the heartbreak he’d endured.

She didn’t want to worry him over what might be nothing. After what happened with Maeve, she didn’t want to make him suffer all that again, to make him think that it was all happening again. She never wanted to be the reason for his hurt, and she knew that telling him is exactly what it would do- make him anxious, worried. She knew her boyfriend like the back of her hand. He’d go into overdrive trying to protect her, to prevent what happened to Maeve from happening to her. But still, she refused to be the one that set those events into motion. She knew it was stupid, he boyfriend was in the FBI- who are exactly the type of people you’d go to if you had a stalker. 

She had tried to tell him a few times but when she opened her mouth to say the words, nothing would come out. 

The final straw was the letters. 

The first one was pushed through her letterbox on a Friday afternoon. Spencer was at work, thankfully only on a paperwork day instead of being called for a case. There was no name or address on the front of the letter. 

She felt sick. Immediately she knew it was from him. At least she presumed it was a ‘he’, from the possessive tone of voice in the notes. 

She ripped it open, taking out the letter. It was a single sheet of paper, both sides filled with that chicken scratch writing. Her eyes skimmed over the words written before her, tears blurring her vision. It was a love letter. Her stalker even gave her a nickname, ‘Dove’. 

‘My darling dove, you were made for me.’

‘My love for you knows no bounds.’

‘You’ve got such a beautiful laugh, I’ve heard it.’

‘And your skin, so perfect, so soft looking. I’d love to run my fingers along your-’

Y/N let the letter drop to the floor as she felt the bile rise in her throat, dashing to the bathroom and throwing up her stomach contents in the toilet. 

She felt sickened. She couldn’t bring herself to read what was left of the letter, instead screwing it up and throwing it away. The words she had read haunted her, made her feel disgusting. She spent hours in the shower that night, as though she was scrubbing his filthy words off of her skin. 

The letters continued, and with each one, the comments became more and more repulsive. Instead of declaring his undying love for her, her stalker began to get enraged. With each letter he became increasingly angrier, and it shook Y/N to her core. 

‘You whore, I could hear your moaning for that little boyfriend of yours from across the street’

‘When I get my hands on you, you’ll be begging for me to show you mercy’

‘I’ve protected you, watched over you! I’ve taken care of you for months now and this is how you repay me?’

‘Fucking dirty slut. I’ll kill you for that.’

‘What a shame it would be for that pretty flesh to be torn so carelessly, but it seems I’ll have to teach you a lesson, dove.’

‘You’ve made a mistake, choosing him over me.’

All of those led to one final letter. 

Written in red ink, eight simple words with a sinister underlying message. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

Dropping the paper as though it had burned her, she desperately tried to slow the breaths that were increasing rapidly, willing the air to fill her lungs. 

The realisation hit her like a freight train. 

She was in danger, real danger. Now that her life had been threatened, she knew she couldn’t hide it any longer. 

No matter the consequences, she had to come clean to Spencer. 

She scrambled around her apartment, grabbing any evidence she had in the form of letters/threats and made sure she had her phone so she could show them the phone calls from an unknown number. 

She glanced out the window to the street below. It was only midday, and she could see the familiar blue Sedan parked opposite her complex. She just had to get to her car safely, which should be a relatively easy task, given the numerous people who were walking down the bustling street- the perks of living on a main road. 

She made it to her car thankfully unscathed, locking the doors behind her. She didn’t dare look across the road at the car, afraid of what, or who she would see.  As she drove to the BAU, she anxiously tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She anticipated what Spencer’s reaction was going to be- he’d be angry, definitely. Y/N was torn, she wanted to stand by the decision she’d made two months prior to not involve her boyfriend with what was going on, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a poor choice. If she’d have told Spencer earlier, things would’ve been resolved. But by telling him the truth, she couldn’t help but ponder if she was putting him or his team in danger. 

Shaking her head clear the thoughts, she pulled into the car park that was next to the building. Taking a few deep breaths, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the buildings’ entrance. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was dry. What the hell was she going to say? ‘Hey Spence, I have a stalker who’s threatening to kill me that I neglected to tell you about, how’s your day going?’

After being granted access at the front desk, she was given a visitors badge and headed up to the sixth floor of the building. As she stood alone in the elevator, she tried to take a few breaths, feeling the familiar clawing at the back of her throat that indicated she was close to breaking down. She’d been holding it together for so long, been so fucking scared for so long. 

As soon as the doors opened she was greeted with the smiling face of one Penelope Garcia. 

When Spencer and her had begun dating he brought Y/N along to one of Rossi’s pasta nights and the whole team immediately took a liking to her, especially after seeing how happy she made Spencer. However Penelope in particular absolutely adored Y/N, and the two had even hung out together a few times. 

Garcia gasped with a grin as the doors opened. “My sweet Y/N! I got the notification that you’d checked in downstairs and thought I’d come greet you!” She moved toward her, hugging Y/N tightly. “Are you here to see our boy wonder? He’s around here somewhere-” She pulled back when she noticed the tenseness in Y/N’s shoulders. When Garcia met her teary eyes she gasped at the sight. “What’s wrong?” 

Y/N finally let the tears tremble down her cheeks, reaching into her bag to grab the handfuls of threating letters from the person who’d made her life hell for two long months. She handed them to Garcia, who after years of working that job knew from the first few words what they were dealing with. 

Y/N met her worried eyes. “It’s bad, Penny. Really bad.”

Garcia nodded, shocked but still placing a comforting arm on Y/N’s back. “Reid- He never mentioned-” 

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want him to worry over nothing but- this is the first time he’s threatened my life and I’m scared, Pen. I’m really scared.” 

Garcia burst into action, coaxing Y/N with gentle words to head into the bullpen. As soon as they walked through the glass doors, all of the team member’s heads turned toward them. Spencer’s eyes immediately fell on his girlfriend’s tear stained cheeks and within seconds he was by her side. 

“Y/N, what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

She shook her head, moving forward and wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her to him as she cried into his chest, her shoulders shaking as she let out everything she’d buried so deep inside. 

He looked over at Garcia, bewildered. She simply walked up to Hotch’s office. The team could faintly hear Garcia presenting him with the papers Y/N had brought with her, explaining what she had told her when she arrived. 

Minutes later Hotch came out of his office, walking down into the bullpen to where the team all looked at one another, confusion on their features. 

“Y/N?” He asked as he approached her, and she pulled back from spencer to see him, wiping her tear stained cheeks. “You’re gonna need to tell us everything. You may be in immediate danger.”

Y/N nodded and Hotch headed off toward the round table room, Garcia scurrying in behind him. The rest of the team, with concerned glances to one another, followed into the room. This left Y/N and Spencer alone in the bullpen. 

She felt Spencer gripping her hand, squeezing gently. Worry laced in his tone, he moved to stand before her and locked onto her eyes. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

Y/N nodded and cleared her throat, her voice quiet with shame as she spoke. “I have a stalker. He sends letters, calls just to breathe down the line and scare me. In his recent letter, he said he’s gonna kill me.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his hand dropping from hers and he turning and stalked toward the board room. He had to see the evidence for himself. 

He reached the room and the groups gazes all shifted to him, but he could’ve cared less. He reached out for one of the sheets of paper, eyes quickly scanning over the threatening words as Y/N entered the room behind him. 

“When did this start, Y/N?” JJ asked, that caring, motherly tone present in her voice. 

“About two months ago.” 

“Did you notice anything odd about the neighbourhood beforehand? Cars that weren’t normally there, people stood on street corners at odd times of day?” Derek queried, his eyes scanning over some of the notes she’d received. 

She nodded. “There was a car I noticed, right at the start. I didn’t think much of it until I started taking note of the timings. It would sit there all day, but be gone overnight. Then it would return the next day.” 

“Do remember the colour, or make of car?” 

“Yeah, a dark blue Sedan. Then a few days later the phone calls started.”

“Garcia I need you to run through Y/N’s phone records, see if you can trace the number they were calling from.” Hotch ordered and Garcia quickly left the room, heading to her bat cave. 

“Here, listen to this.” JJ started, holding up one of the first letters. “I’m doing this because I love you, pretty dove. So very much. It’s okay, you’ll see.” She looked up to her team. “He’s planning something.” 

Hotch turned his attention to her. “Y/N’s safety is our primary concern. This unsub seems to have fixated on her, for whatever reason. Y/N, do you have any ex boyfriends or enemies we need to know about?” 

“I have five ex’s, but I don’t think any of them would be capable of this.” She reasoned, but there was a seed of doubt in the back of her mind. 

At her words, Spencer stood up, slamming the letters down on the table with an audible thud before leaving the room. Y/N stared after him hopelessly, Hotch clearing his throat before speaking again. 

“I’ll need a list of their names.” 

Derek piped up. “We also need to know locations of spots that you frequent, anywhere you may have met this guy. Coffee shops, restaurants, even the library. No detail is too small, okay?” 

Y/N nodded, turning back to stare out the door that Spencer had stormed out of moments before. “I’m just going to go check on him.” She murmured, earning an apologetic smile from JJ. 

* 

She found him outside the building, sat on one of the stone steps of the staircase that led up to the buildings entrance. He had his head in his hands, trying to calm down the thoughts that sped through his overworking mind. 

She sat beside him, draping his coat that she’d grabbed from his desk over his shoulders to combat the cold winter air. “You’ll catch a cold.” She muttered, offering a small smile as he looked over at her. Despite how he felt, he let the smallest of smiles find its way onto his lips at the comment. She had a stalker threatening her life and she was worried about him catching a cold?

They sat in silence for a little before Y/N broke it. “I’m so sorry, Spencer.” 

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He mumbled, looking out to the street, watching people walk by. When Y/N didn’t answer, he spoke again. “You could’ve told me, you know?”

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” She whispered sincerely. 

“Why didn’t you say something, Y/N? I would’ve dropped everything to make sure you were safe.” He promised, trying to make his voice sound strong, but failing as it cracked with his words. 

“I didn’t think it was important. He wasn’t threatening at the start, and I thought I could handle it.” Now the words were leaving her mouth, she knew she sounded stupid. 

“You didn’t think it was important?” Spencer repeated back to her, his breaths heavy as he failed to understand her reasoning. “Y/N you are the most important thing in the world to me. Okay? Please tell me you know that.” He turned his body toward her. 

“I know. I know and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. It’s just I know- after everything that happened before with Maeve-“ She paused for a moment. “I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”

His breath hitched when she said Maeve’s name, and Y/N could almost see him replaying the moment he lost her in his mind. The curse of an eidetic memory. 

“I’m not going to let that happen to you- no, not you. Never you.” He sniffed, reaching over to take her hand in his. 

She nodded, tears filling her eyes once more. She cuddled into his side, her head dropping on his shoulder. She sniffled. “I’m scared, Spencer.” 

“It’s okay. He’s not coming anywhere near you, Y/N. I swear to you, he’s not going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.” He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

*

Over the next few days, the team spent hours analysing ever piece of evidence Y/N had received, and Garcia went through tons of security footage, trying to get a good look at whoever was in the blue Sedan. She’d ran the license plates, but they’d come back as being fake, so that had been a pretty dead end, and the phone number she’d traced had come from a payphone, so there was no lead there either. 

Spencer was evidently over-working himself, not taking breaks from work to eat or sleep. He reread the words a hundred times, desperately looking for what it was he must’ve missed. He was filled with this overwhelming need to protect her, to keep Y/N safe. To succeed where he’d failed previously. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake he’d made with Maeve. He’d let his emotions cloud his judgement and it cost Maeve her life. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again. 

There wasn’t time for that, not when Y/N was in danger. 

Y/N spent most of her time alongside Spencer at the BAU, mostly because he insisted that she was somewhere he could keep an eye on her at all times. She only went home in the evenings so she could change and sleep in her own bed, but always with a police escort that Spencer had himself done a thorough background check on and knew could be trusted. 

Eventually, It had been an entire week. Spencer had only had a handful of sleep, only when the exhaustion became too much did he pass out and actually get a few hours of sleep before he was right back at it. Members of the team who attempted to gently voice their concern for him received a scowl in response, with Y/N even trying to get through to him, but he just shrugged her off. Ultimately, Hotch had to pull him aside to talk. 

Hotch walked into the room where Y/N sat reading silently in the corner while Spencer’s eyes ran over the words he’d already read a hundred times. 

“Reid, Can I speak to you?” 

Spencer’s head snapped up, pissed that he was being interrupted from the task before him. He grunted under his breath, standing up and walking out of the room. 

Hotch brought Spencer up to his office, closing the door behind them so there was some dilution to the raised voices that were definitely going to come from this conversation. He sighed, turning to face the younger man and crossing his arms. “The Bureau don’t want us using any more of our time on this case. The unsub has been inactive for a week, and we have other cases building up that take priority.” 

Spencer scoffed. “You want us to stop? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid not. The order came from above me, I have no power here. The best we can do for now is send Y/N home with police protection until this guy resurfaces.” 

“You wanna send her home? No way, Hotch! There’s some son of a bitch after her and you want her to be at home?” He was angrier than Hotch had seen him be in a long while. 

Hotch sighed. “Reid. It’s out of my hands. I recognise how hard this is for you, but we have no choice.”

“But I- I can’t protect her if she’s not with me! I can’t keep her safe.” His tone changed from angry to more of a begging. “Please, Hotch. There’s got to be something you can do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer huffed, his anger returning. “Bullshit! You know as well as I do that she’s vulnerable as soon as she leaves here. Police presence or not, if something happens to her-” 

Hotch shot him a warning look, which made Spencer stop mid-sentence.

“You’re done with this case for now, understand? Until he resurfaces, we have other priorities.” Hotch spoke. Spencer scoffed, walking and brushing past his unit chief. “That’s an order, Reid.” He warned. 

Spencer ignored him, heading back to the room he’d left Y/N in, his mind refocused on getting back to his previous task-  despite Hotch’s orders. 

He stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him, earning a surprised squeak from Y/N, who still sat in the corner with her book in hand. He looked over at her, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “He wants you to go home, and we have to put the case on hold because we have others to work on. Can you believe that? How could he ask that of me?” He laughed humourlessly as Y/N shut her book, placing it next to her. 

She sighed, standing, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?” 

It was just the protective side of him coming out, and at first Y/N thought it was endearing, but he couldn’t neglect his own needs to favour hers any more. She wouldn’t let him. 

“Spencer, you gotta stop this. I know how hard you’re working, and I’m so grateful, but you’re killing yourself here.” Her voice was gentle, hoping she’d be able to appeal to him. 

“No! No Y/N I’m not stopping until we get this guy, until you’re safe.” He snapped. 

“You heard what Hotch said, you have other cases that need to take priority.” She moved toward him, still trying to reason with him. She was still scared to death, and she didn’t particularly want to leave Spencer’s side- after all he made her feel safe. But there were people who needed him and his team, and if she was no longer in imminent danger, his talents were needed elsewhere. It made her feel sick, but it’s the way it was. They were just going to have to wait for this guy to make his next move. 

“But Y/N, you are my priority. Don’t you get that?” He asked, moving back as she came toward him. The motion hurt her, so she stood still. 

“I do, I promise you I do, but there’s people out there who need that beautiful mind of yours more than I do right now.” 

He scoffed. “So you just expect me to give up?” 

“Of course not, but Hotch is right. What if this guy never makes any other moves? What if he just wanted to scare me? You can’t waste your time. It’s too valuable.” 

“And what if the second you walk out of those doors he gets you?” Spencer shouted, his arms coming out by his sides to exaggerate his point. 

“Then you’ll find me. If that happened, which is a worse-case scenario, I have faith that you and this team would find me and bring me home.” 

“And if I can’t? If I fail, again? If I have to watch you die like I watched-” His breath hitched, his voice catching. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “No, No. I will not lose you, do you understand? I will not stop looking for this son of a bitch, not ever. I’m not letting you go home, Y/N. I’m sorry, that’s final.” 

“Spencer, you can’t keep me here. You’d be disobeying Hotch’s direct orders-” 

He shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Y/N. I’ll talk to Hotch, change his mind. Just- stay here. Please.”  The last word was quiet and pleading, a stark contrast from the tone he was using before. He picked up the evidence files he was going through and walked away, feet stomping as his anger still radiated off of him. 

* 

Y/N had stood there for a minute, collecting herself before she took a shaky deep breath, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears that trickled down her cheeks. 

She walked out to the bullpen, ignoring how Spencer had asked her to stay. Her eyes met Derek’s who offered her an apologetic smile. 

“Hey.” He called out to her as she passed by. “Whatever the kid said, he didn’t mean it. He just wants to keep you safe.” 

She gave a sad smile. “I know. Um, is it alright if I just step out the front for some air? I’m feeling a little boxed in.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll keep you company, make sure you get back alright.” He stood up from his desk chair, grabbing his jacket and accompanying her downstairs. 

When they got there Y/N turned to him. “Is it alright if I have a moment alone? I’ll stay where you can see me, I just need a minute.” 

Derek was hesitant, but nodded. She pushed open the doors, out into the cold night. She remained stood by the front doors, where they bright lights from indoors seeped outside, lighting up the pavement. She took a few deep breaths, letting the cold air fill her lungs, hoping it’ll help alleviate the stinging pain in her heart. She looked up at the sky, willing herself to keep her tears at bay. She appreciated what Spencer was doing, and adored his instinct to protect her, keep her safe. She knew how stubborn he could be at times, but now she thought about it, maybe when she sided with Hotch earlier it made it seem like she didn’t have his back, which was certainly not the case. 

Derek watched as Y/N collected herself, seeing that she was about to turn and come back inside. Suddenly someone bumped into his side, his attention turning from Y/N to the person who collided with him. He looked over to see a young man he didn’t recognise. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. My apologies.” The man apologised before walking off. 

Derek furrowed his brow, before turning back to look outside. 

Y/N wasn’t there. 

He bolted forward toward the doors, flinging them open and looking left and right for any sight of her. 

She was long gone. And so was whoever took her. 

Hearing a crinkle beneath his feet, Derek looked down at the sound, noticing a scrap piece of newspaper on the floor where Y/N had been stood. 

He picked it up, unfolding the paper. On it, written in the familiar blood red chicken scratch was the same threatening message Y/N had received before. 

‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’ 

* 

Derek placed the paper down on the roundtable, that the team was now gathered around, shock and worry on their faces. 

Hotch closed his eyes with a sigh as he looked at the paper, guilt rushing over him. Just then Spencer came into the room, immediately picking up on the mood that had settled over the team. 

“What’s’‘-” His eyes landed on the message, the realisation spreading over his features. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, a sort of denial in his voice. 

“He has her.” Derek confirmed, bowing his head down in shame that he hadn’t protected her like he was supposed to. 

“Morgan, What happened? You took her out to get some air and then what?” Emily asked, trying to establish where it’d gone wrong. 

“I took my eyes off of her for a minute, some guy bumped into me and it distracted me, and when I looked back she was gone.” 

Emily’s mouth opened as she connected the dots. “It must’ve been a distraction, one guy bumps into you so that you take your eyes off of her while the other guy grabs her.” 

“So what, we’re looking for a partner here as well?” JJ posed, looking up at her team. 

“It would seem so. He waited for his opportunity, and when it came he took it.” Rossi chimed in. 

“This is now an active investigation, we have a missing woman who’s already been gone for nearly an hour. We’ve got to work fast.” Hotch ordered, which sent the team out of their seats, each with a task assigned to them. However, Spencer still sat in one of the chairs, trembling fingers trailing over the words before him. The air in the room seemed thinner, his lungs working harder to fill themselves. 

“Reid? Reid.” Morgan tried, but all he got from Spencer was little incoherent mumbles. 

Finally, he looked up to meet Morgan’s eyes, the words he’d been whispering falling from his lips in a more audible whimper. “He’s gonna kill her.”  He choked on his words, the realisation crashing down on him. “I’m going to lose her too.” 

* 

Time was a precious thing. 

Spencer had never been more aware of how quickly the seconds passed than he was at that moment. 

He was on his knees, hunched over the toilet, hands gripping the sides in a vice-like grip, desperately trying to push down the nauseating feeling creeping its way up his throat. After the note that Morgan found, Spencer had rushed into the toilets, standing over the toilet bowl as he dry-heaved, holding himself back from being sick. He took heavy breaths, eyes screwing shut as he tried to think of anything other than the danger that Y/N was in. 

He tried so hard to ignore the familiarity of the situation. 

The thought set in motion a memory that he’d much rather forget, one that he pushed so far back in his mind so he could deny it had ever happened, that he’d ever allowed it to happen. 

Ultimately, it was the curse of his brilliant memory, having the ability to perfectly recall things that happened years before. 

As if he could ever forget that day, eidetic memory or not. 

“Diane, Diane, there’s still a way out of this.” 

“You never wanted me. Never! You lied!”

Diane has her arm around Maeve, gun pointed at her head. The bullet she’d shot into Spencer’s shoulder felt numb, the scorching pain felt irrelevant to the fear spiking his heart. 

“I didn’t. Diane, I offered you a deal and you can still take it. Me for her. Let me take her place.” His eyes lock on Maeve’s, so full of fear, and he tries to reassure that she’ll be fine- because he knows she will. How many times has he talked down an unsub waving a gun around? She would be okay, she had to be. 

“You would do that?” 

“Yes.” 

“You would kill yourself for her?” 

“Yes.” 

Of course he would. In a heartbeat. 

“Thomas Merton.” 

Maeve’s voice was small but sure. What scared Spencer the most was how certain she sounded, as though she’d accepted that this was her fate; her end. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton?”

“He knows.” 

She loved him. And he loved her. Oh how bittersweet. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton, who is he?” 

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us.” 

Its only a moment’s hesitation, a moment that he should’ve reached for a gun, a moment where he should’ve taken his shot. 

“No.” Diane scowled. 

Time is a precious thing.

and Maeve’s was up.

“Wait-” 

The shot still rung clear in Spencer’s ears, a sound he was sure he would hear for the rest of his days. His breaths were heaving again, his eyes flying open as he willed the image of Maeve’s body to leave his head. But when his eyes screwed shut again, it was someone else in her place. 

It wasn’t Maeve’s body on the floor anymore. Instead, in her place lay Y/N, blood gushing from the open wound at the side of her head, her lifeless body cold against the concrete floor. 

That’s the thought that made him sick, throwing up into the toilet at the thought of watching Y/N die the same way he watched Maeve. 

Taking gasping breaths, he sat back against the side of the cubicle, hands running down his flustered face, feeling the streaks of tears that trembled down his cheeks. 

He shook his head, as if that would erase the horrific thoughts swimming around. He reminded himself that Y/N was still alive, and they had no reason as of yet to believe that she wasn’t. It was that thought that made him pull himself to stand, raking his hands through his hair and trying to calm his quivering hands. 

Y/N was still out there, waiting for him to save her. 

He grit his teeth together as he walked out of the toilets. 

He wouldn’t hesitate this time. He was not going to lose her. 

*

He walked back into the roundtable room, ignoring the looks he received from the team. They had been bouncing theories off of one another, trying to use their profile to figure out who their unsub was, and where they would’ve taken Y/N. 

“Is it possible a woman is our unsub, or perhaps even the partner?” Emily posed, her eyes scanning over one of the letters. 

Derek shook his head. “I don’t think a woman would use language like this, it’s very derogatory, it exerts a power over Y/N.” 

The team fell quiet in thought, only interrupted when Garcia came scurrying in, her laptop in her hands. “You’ll never guess what I just found!”

Everyone looked up to her, Hotch speaking. “What is it, Garcia?” 

“I looked over the list of Y/N’s exes, and only one of them jumped out to me as a little suspicious. So I did some digging.” She tapped a few keys on her laptop before grabbing her remote and  broadcasting to the team what she’d found on the TV. “Daniel ‘Danny’ Stone, 29, dated Y/N three years ago. He was her last boyfriend before she met Reid.”

“Three years? You don’t think he’s still bitter about the relationship ending?” Emily asked, confused. 

“Three years is a long time. Why surface now?” JJ chimed. 

“Reid, did Y/N ever mention her previous relationship ending on a rough note?” Rossi asked, turning to face the younger boy. 

Spencer frowned. “She said the breakup was a little rocky, but nothing awful. The last time she spoke about him was a few months ago, said he got in some sort of accident?” He looked to Garcia for confirmation, and she nodded. 

“Indeed. Stone was involved in a road collision four months ago.” 

JJ hummed, looking through the medical reports on her iPad. “Says here he suffered brain damage, specifically to his pre-frontal cortex.” 

“Well that would explain why this stalker seemingly came from nowhere. People who suffer damage like this are impulsive, unable to make rational choices.” Derek posed. 

“So what’s the theory here? He wakes up after this accident, and because of his injury chooses to track down his ex? Three years after they break up?”

Morgan shook his head. “It isn’t a choice. Not anymore. He has to do it. He’s become fixated on her. He knows she’s with Reid, and like he said, If he can’t have her, the neither can Reid.”

“Okay, but why stalk her? What does he gain from that? Instead of just taking her and getting what he really wants?” Emily questioned. 

“This newfound impulsivity would make him a risk-taker. He’ll do things that the average person wouldn’t dream of trying. But it’s unlikely that Stone actually staked out Y/N’s home, or delivered the letters to her door. He wouldn’t have the self-control to span this out over months. He just pulled the strings.” 

“So that was his partner, then.” JJ deduced, earing nods from the team. “Then  what does the partner gain from this? Why help Stone?” 

“Maybe Stone manipulated them. Perhaps he has some form of information on them he’s using as blackmail?” 

“Did you get an address on Stone, Garcia?” Hotch asked, and Garcia nodded enthusiastically. 

“You know I did, It’s already been sent to your phones.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

The team all stood, heading for the doors. Spencer was quick to get up and follow, hope sparking in him now that they had an address. He was just about to leave the room when Hotch’s voice stopped him. 

“Reid, you know I can’t let you come with us.” His voice was firm, he knew there could be no room for error here. Not after what happened last time. 

“Like hell you can’t.” Reid snapped, turning around to face him. He’d regret his smart mouth later when Hotch undoubtedly told him off for it, but at that moment who couldn’t have cared less. 

“We will get her and bring her home, but you can’t be involved in this. It’s a conflict of interest, you know that.” 

“Oh, so it wasn’t a conflict of interest when you went after Foyet?” 

It was a cheap shot, one that Spencer really regretted the second he said it, but amends could be made later. 

Hotch’s face didn’t falter, despite the petty jab. “Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

Spencer’s defesnive stance dropped, his arms falling by his sides. “Hotch. You were there when when Maeve died. Do you remember it?” 

“Of course.” 

“Not like I do. I can see every second of it every time I close my eyes. I can’t go through that again. I almost didn’t make it out the other side, If it happened again I don’t know if I could cope-” He stopped, his voice catching in his throat. “Just- Please.”

Hotch grunted, giving in. “Fine, but you can’t allow your emotions to cloud your thinking. I know it will be difficult but I need your head to be in this.Y/N’s life depends on it.” 

Spencer nodded and they headed down toward the SUV’s. 

*

They pulled up to the address, lights blaring and sirens sounding. They all quickly jumped out and regrouped, strapping their kevlar vests to their chests as they moved. They were stood in front of an abandoned apartment complex, one that had ben uninhabited for years. 

 “Alright Morgan, Prentiss I want you to go around the back, find a way in through there, see if you can find this partner of his. JJ, Rossi and Reid you’re with me. ” Hotch ordered, as they all drew their guns and prepared to head in. 

As they stealthily walked through the building, they listened for any noise that indicated where the unsub was. Hotch, who was leading the group, pushed open a door to the staircase, and they were about to head up when they heard a bang coming from the floor below them. 

They headed down the stairs, seeing that they were entering the buildings basement. They rounded the corner, guns at the ready, and stepping into a small boiler room. 

In the centre of the room, Daniel stood. He held a struggling Y/N to his chest, his arm around her neck and gun placed at her temple. 

Spencer recalled how it the sight was all too familiar, how Diane had held Maeve the same way. 

Daniel’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “If you step any closer, she dies.” 

“Okay, okay. We’ll stay back, but I need you to put down the gun.” Hotch tried, shooting a look over his shoulder to Spencer, a look that told him to stay put. 

Daniel shook his head. “No. You’re going to ruin everything!”

“Ruin what?” JJ asked. 

“My chance do what’s right. Y/N doesn’t want me. But I love her, can’t she see that? I would do anything for her, and still she would choose him over me?” Daniel’s eyes moved to meet with Spencer’s, narrowing. 

“Daniel, we know what you went through. We know about your accident, how you’ve felt so out of control since, but if you come with us we can get you the help you need.” Rossi was next to attempt to convince him, but to no avail.

“No- No!” Daniel scowled, clenching his teeth as his gaze fixated on Spencer, who’s eyes were locked with Y/N’s, trying to silently reassure her that she was going to be okay. “She’s mine. I protected her, I’ve looked out for her. She’s finally going to understand.” He looked down at Y/N, his grip on her tightening, causing her to let out a frightened yelp. 

Spencer gulped, tearing his gaze from Y/N and onto the unsub, putting on a strong and unbothered facade. He wouldn’t let himself be clouded by his emotions, not this time. “You’re right. You kept her safe, and I’m very grateful that you protected her when I failed to.”

“Thats right. You failed her. I’m so much better for her.” He seethed through his teeth. “ And that’s why, if she won’t chose me, she’ll have to die with me.”

“You don’t want to do that, Daniel. Put down the gun. We’ll bring you in, and if you tell us all about this partner of yours, we’ll tell everyone that you co-operated.” JJ suggested, her gun still aimed up at him. 

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N gasped out, still struggling against his hold. 

“Because if I can’t have you, the neither can he. No, No.” He grinned, bringing the gun up to his his own head. From where it was angled, the bullet would pass through his own head, and lodge itself in Y/N’s too. “You’re mine, Y/N.” 

This time, Spencer didn’t hesitate. 

One single gunshot. 

Daniel collapsed to the floor, a bullet between his eyes. 

Y/N fell to the ground with him in a fit of sobs, scrambling to get away from the man who lay dead on the floor, the pool of blood growing around him.  

Spencer holstered his gun, immediately surging forward to wrap a trembling Y/N up in his arms. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He cooed, rubbing a hand on her back in a soothing manner. 

She sobbed into his chest as he held her, tears forming in his own eyes at the sound of her cries. But Spencer allowed himself a moment to breathe, looking over Y/N’s shoulder at the man he’d just shot without hesitation. 

And he’d wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it, either.  

He tightened his arms around her, thankful that she was safe. He brought her up to stand, his arms still tight around her. He looked toward his teammates, nodding gratefully at them as he walked Y/N out of the building. As he passed, he overheard JJ and Hotch’s conversation. 

“Emily and Morgan found the partner fleeing out the back. They say he’s agreed to talk.” 

With an internal sigh of relief, he held Y/N closer as they stepped out the doors of the building, guiding her toward the medical staff so she could be checked for injuries, despite how she told him she was fine. After it was concluded that she’d come out pretty unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises, Spencer came and sat down next to her. She smiled weakly up at him, and he knew it would take a while for her usual bright smile to return, but she was alive- and right then that was all that mattered. 

He immediately took her hand in his, gripping it tightly. 

“Is it over?” She asked quietly, and he nodded. 

“Yeah, they got the partner, and he’s going to co-operate in return for a reduced sentence, but he’ll still be going away for a long time.”

She nodded, her head dropping onto his shoulder. “Thank you so much, Spencer. You saved me.” She whispered. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m sorry about the argument we had, I was being a jerk. I just wanted to protect you, but in the end you still ended up getting hurt.” He frowned, looking down at the gravel ground. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry you had to relive all of this again, I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been for you.” She sighed, guilt overwhelming her. 

“Hey, no. You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He promised and she nodded against him. 

Giving her hand a squeeze, he turned slightly to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.” 

[arizona2004]

Who the Real Wolves Are. part 2

Azriel x Reader

word count: 1830 Part 3

I have no idea how long I’d been lying there, cold on the floor. The sun was up, though. So, I’m assuming it’s the next day. Or maybe it’s two days later. I don’t know. Azriel’s here, though; he kneels on the ground next to me and shakes me awake. He’s lifting me slightly into his arms, feeling my pulse. His hands are all over me, inspecting my injuries. When I’m finally sitting up straight in front of him, he pulls my chin to look at him and growls, holding back his temper, barely, “who did this to you?”

I’m too dazed to process the question, though. My head is spinning, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Where’s Gran? I think, but when I turn my head back to the floor, Az blocks my view.

“Don’t look over there. Keep your eyes on me,” he says.

I drop my head to rest on his chest when the memories start flooding back. Gran is dead. She’s dead, and she’s never coming back. Then, fear floods in too when I remember what else the men had said that evening. “They’re looking for you,” I choke out, “They want to kill you.”

Gently, he brushes my hair and cradles my head against his neck while I continue crying. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I am dangerous, remember?”

A choked laugh escapes me at the memory, but I’m still wracked with fear and sadness. Azriel pulls back slightly and presses our foreheads together, “Who was it, y/n? Who did this to you?” He asks more calmly now, but I know anger still floods his veins. 

“Three men from the town,” I tell him, “I can’t remember their names, right now, though,” shaking my head in frustration, I groan, trying to remember them.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’ll remember later you’re still in shock. For now, I just need to get you out of here,” he reassures, pulling me closer to him.

“No,” I protest, “I won’t leave without Gran,” I finally look over to her. She’s soaked in red, and her skin is bluing.

“I’ll take her, too. And you can have a memorial service. I promise, but you can’t stay here. It’s not safe,” he says quietly, holding my face between his hands. I nod, agreeing, and wrap my arms around his neck. Seconds later, we’re submerged in darkness, spinning through space. We land on some marble floor, still sitting on the ground.

“Az? What’s going on here?” I hear the drawl of a male to my right. Turning my head, I see, standing in the doorway to a dining room, a tall male with dark hair and violet, blue eyes. They meet mine and stare curiously. Azriel gently sets me down and stands to greet the male. I hear the beginnings of him explaining everything to the male, ‘Rhys’, but then I zone everything out. Staring at my grandmother, I feel sick again. I want to look away, but I can’t. She’s dead because of me, I think; why did I let her take the blame for me?  I’m so lost in my thoughts and grief I don’t notice the female approach my other side until she taps my shoulder.

I jump and turn to her. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. My name’s Feyre. Do you want to come upstairs with me?”

She seems nice, and I know she’s a friend of Azriel’s; he’s mentioned her, but I still say, “no,” and turn my head to Azriel. He finishes whatever he had said to the male and returns to me. Lifting me in his arms, he moves to carry me away, “wait, gran…” I mumble.

“It’s okay. She’ll be okay. I asked Rhys to take her somewhere else for now. She’ll be fine.” I trust him, and so my head falls to his shoulder, and I let him carry me upstairs.

He takes me to a large bedroom, it’s mostly black with hints of various blues and gold, and places me on a soft, blue duvet covering a bed. Leaving me for a moment, he walks through another door to my left, a bathroom, I realize. Returning carrying a bowl of water, rags, and a small box with bandages, Azriel kneels before me. He cleans all my wounds, applying a salve to them, and uses the bandages to cover any open wounds. He even has to call a healer for a gash on the left side of my face that needs stitches. It was just outside my eye and ran down to my cheek. The amount of blood I’d lost to the wound accounted for my woozy feeling. The cut would heal but scar, the healer told me. I couldn’t bring myself to care, though. I didn’t feel like caring about anything.

Azriel, noticing my feelings and understanding as he always did, dismissed the healer and lifted me into his arms. He walked us to the top of the bed and lied down, holding me. “Sleep,” he whispers, rubbing my back gently. And so I did. I let the darkness overtake me, and the pain washed away for a little while, at least.

*

narrators pov

y/n was finally sleeping peacefully in Azriel’s arms 10 minutes later when a knock sounded at his bedroom door. He looked up at Rhys’ face peering in, eyebrows raised expectantly, so he began untangling his limbs from yours. Standing up and gently covering you with a blanket, he shuffled out of the room, careful not to wake you, and met Rhys in the hall. Rhys was leaning on the wall across from the room, arms crossed in front of him, “come on. Everyones waiting downstairs for an explanation,” he said, turning to walk downstairs.

Everyone was waiting, gathered in the sitting room. Cassian and Mor were arguing about something or another; who you are to Azriel-it sounds like. When they enter, everyone falls silent, though. Rhys moves to sit on a couch with Feyre, Mor and Amren are seated too, and Cas is standing by the fireplace. They’re all looking at Azriel expectantly. “Her name is y/n. What more do you need to know?” He knew they wouldn’t be pleased with him withholding information, but he wanted to keep you to himself as long as possible.

“Who was the other woman?” Cassian asks, “The old dead one.”

“How sympathetic of you Cassian,” Mor said sarcastically, glaring over her shoulder at him, but he just shrugged, looking to Azriel for an answer.

“Her grandmother,” He responded simply.

“...And why is she dead?” Cassian asks.

“She was stabbed.” 

“No shit, Az.”

“Stop with the curt answers, Azriel, give us the whole story,” Rhys intervenes.

“There’s no story,” He responds, “I found them in their house. y/n hasn’t told me who killed her grandmother yet. She’s still in shock.”

“No. Start from the beginning. I know you’ve been seeing her for at least a month now, but when did it start exactly?” Rhys presses

“Wait, she’s your lover?” Cassian asks, more intrigued. 

“What do you mean you’ve known for a month?” Azriel growls to Rhys.

“You may be the spymaster, but I’m not stupid. Did you really think I wouldn’t look into where you kept sneaking off to? When I first saw you together, rolling around on the forest floor, I had no idea what to make of it,” he responds cooly.

“It’s not just physical,” Azriel spats at Rhys’s implication.

“Oh?” Mor speaks this time, “do you love her?” Azriel’s quickly gotten tired of this interrogation and turns to leave the room.

“Wait,” Feyre’s voice calls to stop him. Standing still with his back turned to them, he stops, “stay. I’ll be the only one to ask questions. Nothing too personal, I promise.”

He turns back and stands with his arms crossed over his chest, attention only directed at his high lady. She smiles at that, and Cassian grumbles something unimportant.

“Where did you meet her?”

“In the forest near her house.”

“When?”

“Nearly three months ago. On my way back from my mission in the mortal lands.”

“Why did you go back to see her?

“Why did you present yourself to her in the first place? Why not stay hidden? Ignore her?” Rhys interjects before Azriel can respond, and Feyre smacks his shoulder.

“I- I don’t know,” I try to answer, “It’s complicated. I was just drawn to her.” He tries to answer, not wanting to reveal the reason he stepped into your path that day.

“Why did you bring her to Velaris, Az?” Feyre’s asking the questions again.

“I- It wasn’t safe for her there. You saw how they beat her. Killed her grandmother.”

“You do love her,” Feyre whispers, looking at Azriel as if she can read everything written on his soul.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” he stammers, more confused than when he pondered this question to himself for the last month. He turns on his heel and does leave this time, returning to your bedside.

*

y/n pov

When I woke in bed, I immediately panic. Where am I? But then everything came rushing back. I’m hit with a sudden wash of pain, and I’m wondering, Where is Azriel? I sit up in bed, disoriented as the door opens.

“You’re awake,” Az says, caught off guard.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Not long. Not even half an hour. You need rest,” he says, walking over to me, concern written all over his features.

“Wheres my gran?”

“She’s being taken care of. By tomorrow she’ll be ready for any ceremony or burial you want for her,” he’s sitting on the edge of the bed now. “If you wanna talk, I’m here to listen,” he says, opening his arms to me.

I climb over to him, letting him hold me. Leaning my head on his shoulder: my body relaxes, and I tell him a story. A memory about my gran and I playing in the forest. I don’t know how long I talked, but he held me the whole time. Only occasionally interrupting to ask a question or laugh at my embarrassing childhood moments. 

I fell asleep in his arms again. And this time, it was hours before I woke, still in his arms. I nuzzled against his neck and gripped his shirt pulling him tighter to me.

“Are you hungry? Dinners in an hour, but we could steal something from the kitchen,” Azriel's deep voice whispered against my neck.

I looked up to him and smiled. It hurt but felt good too. I knew gran would want me to smile, “That sounds wonderful. Is it going to be difficult? Will you have to knock anyone out?” My grin spreads, and he chuckles.

“I’m gonna assume you want to go with the more risky but fun plan, and not the easy, boring one?” he raised his eyebrows at me.

I smirked, “So what’s the plan?”