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babymetaldoll · 4 years ago

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DIWK - Chapter two: "Everyday I love you less and less."

Chapter nine |Word count: 13,3K

My gif ✨

Warnings: Cursing. Spoilers of season 1 Criminal Minds. Mentions of minor injuries (secondary character), and all your usual Criminal Minds content.

Summary: Young SSA (Y/N) is getting used to her demanding job at the BAU, and her friendship with Spencer Reid is growing strong. Will Lila Archer get in the middle of their dynamic?

A/N: Hello! I'm so excited to share this new chapter with you!! Thank you for your love, likes, reblogs, and comments 💖 DM me if you want to be on the taglist, or if you want to talk about this chapter.

Masterlist

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(Y/N)'s point of view

February 2006. After three months in the BAU, I was already used to traveling and living in my go-bag. But from all the places I have visited so far, Los Angeles is by far one of my least favorite cities. Don't ask me why, 'cos I know it's completely irrational, but I've never felt comfortable when I'm here. And that time wasn't any better.

It wasn't just the sun. I hate the sun. It wasn't just the fact I hated Lila Archer, the fucking princess we had to protect during the case, and who seemed to give a shit someone was trying to kill her. No, though that wasn't helping either.

No, what was driving me mad was the fact the next day was my boyfriend's birthday. Instead of organizing a fantastic party, I was stuck watching a bimbo run around a fucking tv set wearing nothing but a tiny bikini, acting like she didn't care a serial killer was after her.

- "Hey! Are you ok?"- Morgan found me outside the tv set, trying to catch some fresh air.

- "Yeah, I'm just..."- I know he had always been too nice to me, but I still wasn't feeling him close enough to tell him my personal problems.

- "Tired?"- I just nodded when he finished my sentence.

- "I don't know what I was expecting, but the BAU is a lot to handle"

- "Yeah, they don't put it on the brochure"- both of them smiled for a second.

- "Guys!"- Spencer waved suddenly and sprinted over us- "Lila just got a note from the unsub!"

I quickly nodded and walked with him and Morgan to her trailer.

- "I'm intrigued by this particular version of the verb to be"- Gideon had the note in his hands, in a plastic bag. We all read it over and over again until we memorized it.

- "Past participle, steady-state of being, preceding adverb"- I analyzed, and Gideon nodded.

- "What does that mean? that he can write right? Can you just speak English?"- Lila frowned and crossed her arms on her chest.

I could understand she was nervous, Lila was the victim. And I had to understand she wasn't herself at the moment. Still, she had been a whiny bitch for the whole day, and I had it with her.

- "That's actually English"- I tried not to sound as rude as I was in my mind, but something tells me I failed terribly- "We are discussing the verb tenses"

- "(Y/N)..."- Reid tried to stop me, but I just continued speaking with a cold voice.

- "And by how he or she writes, we can conclude our stalker is someone you know, based on the tens of the verb"

I kept my eyes focused on her. She was scared, and I felt sorry I had snapped a little on her, but she deserved it. She had to drop the Hollywood act and start cooperating if she didn't want to die.

- "Maybe it's time we take her off the street"- Morgan tried to refocus the conversation on what gathered us there, helping Lila. Though it wasn't going to be easy.

- "I'm not going to hide, guys"- but it felt she didn't care- "Last night, I decided I would not be afraid of this lunatic. So, am I safe here? I only have one more scene to shoot."

- "The set is clear of everyone except essential personnel, and we have increased security at the gate"- detective Kim assured.

- "Then it's settled, I'm staying here to work"- and the princess stormed out the trailer.

- "She is one tough girl"- Elle whispered, and I rolled my eyes.

- "Yeah"- Spencer agreed, and I looked at him, trying to control the daggers that kept coming from my eyes- "What?"

- "I didn't want to say anything in front of her, but the anger about her going to the police suggest our unsub might alter his agenda"- Gideon interrupted us.

- "She didn't go alone"- Elle pointed- "Her manager took her..."

- "You guys stay here. Elle and I are going to talk to the manager"- Gideon stood up, and I quickly followed him outside the trailer.

- "Do you want me to come with you?"

- "No. I need you here. She is the target of the stalker, and we need as many eyes on her as possible."

- "I think the princess is used to having all the eyes on her"- I muttered, annoyed. Gideon looked at me for a second, and I swear I felt my dad was about to scold me.

- "We are here to help her, (Y/N)"

- "I know, sir, but she could cooperate and let us do our work. She would be safer at an undisclosed location."

- "She is safe here, and we need to avoid any change in the unsub's plan, (Y/N), are we clear?"

I sighed and looked down, a little embarrassed and still very annoyed

- "Yes, sir"- Elle stood next to me, confused

- "Everything ok?"

- "Yeah... I'll see you later"- she gave me an interrogative look and walked quickly to catch up with Gideon, who was already gone.

I walked around the set with my cellphone in hand. Morgan kept following me, trying to see what I was doing. What was I doing? I was texting Paul. No, I was thinking of what to text him because I knew I would need an excuse to miss his birthday. I was sure we weren't going to make it back to Virginia on time.

- "Ok, what is it?"- Derek stood in front of me and gave me a cup of coffee- "Don't give me the "I'm tired" excuse, 'cos I know that's not what's going on, so?"

I looked at him, knowing I was defeated.

- "It's nothing"

- "It's clearly keeping you in a bad mood, which is affecting your work, so? you know you were pretty rude at Lila back there."

- "I know, but bitch had it coming"- the words just slipped, and they seemed to shock Derek.

- "Wow... you do know there's a stalker trying to kill everyone around her, including her, right?"

- "Then she should be collaborating! Staying here working is clearing a sign she gives a shit about what we are doing and all our efforts to keep her safe!"

And I snapped. I know I shouldn't have, but I needed to let off some steam before going nuts.

- "What is this really about, girl?"- Morgan kept his calm voice, which sometimes drives me insane. He kept looking at me, not moving a muscle. Until I gave up.

- "Tomorrow's my boyfriend's birthday, and I want to get home to spend it with him"- when I heard my lame excuse, I felt like the worst SAA in the whole FBI. A girl was about to die, and there I was worried about my boyfriend.

- ("Y/N), when you join the FBI, especially this team, you have to commit to work, you have to be here 100% when we are on a case"

- "I know"- I felt like a kid that minute, and I hated it- "And in the last three months I've been working here, I've lost birthdays, family meetings, you name it... but this one..."

I didn't want, by all means, to open my heart to Derek Morgan, not in a tv set, so I stayed quiet again.

- "Do you like this job?"- that question caught me by surprise

- "What? Yes! Of course, I do! This job is why I killed myself at the academy, but what does that have to do with this?"

- "(Y/N), if you love this job and want to stay here, you will let some things go. Not being there for important dates is the first one."

And so, after three months at the BAU, I had reached my first milestone. Letting the important dates go 'cos job was more important. What I swore I was never going to do. I was getting closer to turn into my dad and my brother. And I knew what that meant.

- "And if you can't do something as simple as that, you are going to have to reconsider all this, 'cos this is not a one-time thing, this is part of this job, and it won't change."

I don't know if Morgan noticed my heart was breaking and the struggle inside my chest, but his voice softened after a few seconds.

- "Besides, your boyfriend has to understand it's not like you don't want to be there. You just happen to be saving people's lives"

And that was true. I just wasn't sure Paul was going to understand it.

- "Yeah..."- I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and shook my head- "You are right about everything, and I've been a brat with the brat."

Derek raised one of his perfect eyebrows, and I cut him a short, tiny, little, innocent smile

- "(Y/N), we are at work"- right, it wasn't the time to be me, I guess.

- "Sorry..."- I sipped my coffee and raised my eyes to him again- "No sugar, no cream, you do pay attention"

- "It happens when you work with profilers"- he chuckled and took a look around- "Check out pretty boy over there"

He pointed at Reid. The latter was utterly flustered in front of Lila.

- "You don't mind sharing with me, do you?"- she asked him, took his drink, and sipped it. He didn't even flinch. He was hypnotized by her, of course, he wasn't thinking about the germs.

- "No..."

Even from that distance, I could see his cheeks flushing. And it didn't get any better when she took off her robe and walked to do her scene in a tiny bikini. Spencer looked like he had a heart attack, and Morgan and I made our best not to chuckle.

- "You don't mind sharing with me, do you?"- he teased Reid as we walked over, and he nearly jumped.

- "Shut up!"- and Reid left the building.

I laughed, feeling a little guilty to make fun of my best friend. Besides, I didn't like Lila at all... but for a second, I needed to focus on something else that wasn't my stupid silly problems.

We had all had a very long day after dealing with a dead manager, a shotted cop, and a suspect paparazzi on the run. And we were no way near getting the unsub. Spencer took care of the princess, while Morgan and I had been chasing a lead that almost got detective Kim killed. I guess it was part of the job, and it would have been ok if it wasn't for the fact Spencer Walter Reid was inside a pool making out with Lila when the whole team and I got there. Not only that, but we also caught the freaking suspect taking pictures of them from the bushes. It was clear Spencer Reid didn't have his head on the case anymore. He and Lila were in real danger, and there he was, making out with a tv actress with big tits.

And thanks to them, the case hadn't been solved, and I was stuck in Los Angeles with two teenagers flirting and making out, probably trying to get killed. I hated Lila, and at that minute, I hated Reid too.

Morgan handcuffed the suspect. Elle ruined all the pictures that asshole had taken of Reid and Lilla. And I just gave my friend one look of hate as he stood soaking wet by the pool before I followed my team and walked away from him. I didn't want to be close to Spencer at that moment.

But by the next morning, Reid had saved the day, he had a tabloid cover picture with Lila, and we were finally on our way back home. I texted Paul that I was going to be home for dinner, but he didn't reply. I guessed he was mad, but Derek was right, I was doing my job, and it was an important job, so he couldn't get upset with me. Or that's what I kept telling myself.

- "Hey"- Morgan sat next to me and elbowed my arm- "How's your boyfriend?"

- "I'm guessing he is ok. He hasn't returned my calls or texts, but he might have started the celebration early with his friends. I have the feeling he is too hungover to be functional."

Morgan chuckled, and I tried to do the same, but all I got was a lousy smile.

- "Who's hungover?"- Reid sat in front of us and tried to make conversation. But I didn't answer. Morgan stood up and walked to the bathroom, tapping on my back.

- "(Y/N)?"- Spencer had those puppy eyes right into mine. No matter how mad I had been with him the night before, we were on our way back home, which meant I didn't have a reason to be so upset just to see his face.

- "Paul"- I murmured and opened my book. I knew I wasn't going to be able to read, but I needed to ignore him, at least for a while.

- "Why?"- and of course, my best friend didn't get the cue.

- "Today's his birthday"- I answered, my eyes were still glued to the book.

- "Oh, I see. Did you know many polytheistic civilizations marked birthdays in conjunction with astrology in hopes of using that to predict their future destinies? However, celebrating birthdays were usually reserved for those potentates who could afford it?"

I always hated when people got annoyed with his random facts, but I wasn't in the mood to listen to him that day.

- "No, Reid, I didn't know, but maybe you can tell me a little more about it tomorrow because right now, I don't think I can concentrate on any fact"

I finally met his eyes and did my best to be as nice as possible. The kid hadn't done anything wrong, and I knew it. I acted like a little bitch because I wanted to be there with my boyfriend, and my boyfriend wasn't picking up the phone. It wasn't his fault at all.

- "Of... of course"- he seemed embarrassed, and I immediately felt guilty- "I'm sorry I bothered you"

- "No, you didn't bother me. I'm just not at my best right now"

- "Do you want to... talk about it?"- I could feel in his voice; he was scared to ask, but that didn't stop him. I guess he was a little more confident, at least around me.

- "(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?"

Hotch's voice made me shiver in fear, and I nodded quickly. I stood up and walked over him to the other side of the plane, leaving Spencer with an interrogative look in his eyes.

- "What is it?"- I tried to stay as calm as possible.

- "What happened to you out there yesterday?"

Hotch always goes straight to the point, which meant no matter how much I thought I was prepared to have a conversation with him, he always left me baffled. But that day, and after Gideon's words on the field, I knew I had to face my mistake,

- "I know I was unprofessional, and I very sorry I snapped at Lila"

- "I need to know when you are out there with the team; your mind is one hundred percent on the case"

I nodded, embarrassed Hotch had to tell me off about something so elemental. I should have known better, but instead, I acted like a child.

- "Yes, sir"- I whispered and looked down.

- "When we are with a victim, no matter how they are behaving, we have to stay calm, we have to help them, and most of all, we have to be at our best."

- "Yes sir."

- "I know you are young, and you still have a lot to learn, but this is basic at our daily job. I need to know you will be the agent I know you can be because we can't act selfishly. Whatever happens with us outside the office, our personal life stays outside the office, ok?"

I bit my lips and took a deep breath before I dared to look at him again. His eyes were severe but paternal at the same time. They made me feel he wasn't just reprimanding me for being an asshole, but also because he knew I could be better.

- "Yes, Hotch, first and last time. I promise"- he nodded, and I stood up.

- "(Y/N)"- he stopped me before I left, and I sat down again. Maybe there was a second part of the speech- "I haven't had the time to tell you, despite what happened yesterday, we are all very pleased with your work."

I didn't see that coming, and I knew he could tell by my eyes opened wide and the blush on my cheeks.

- "You have been a great addition, and we are all happy to have you on board."

I didn't know what to say at that. I've never been good with compliments. I nodded, smiled, and stayed in silence, one awkward silence.

- "You might want to go back to Reid and tell him you are not fired, 'cos he is looking at us like you are about to die"

I chuckled and looked his way. Spencer was hiding behind his book, trying to take a peek at what we were talking about.

- "Thank you, Hotch."

Spencer's point of view

I was all alone at the office, sitting at my desk staring at the paper Morgan had tossed at me earlier before leaving. It had a picture of Lila and me saying goodbye. My chest tightened at the thought of her lips against mines and how she felt so close to me. When we said goodbye, her sad eyes broke my heart because both of us knew it would never happen. We were never going to meet again, which was a fact from the first time we landed eyes on each other.

Still, I had reached farther than I thought I could. We kissed. Lila wanted to see me again. When had that happened to me back then? Never. When had my last date been? Before the BAU, and it didn't go as well as it did with Lila.

Kissing her and feeling whatever it was that happened inside of me- a crush or pure desire- was the best way to get rid of any feeling I had left for JJ. She and I, it was never going to happen, and if it did, it was never going to work. Not just because we were too different, but because we were better off as friends. It always felt she was my older sister, regularly taking care of me, treating me like her younger brother. I know she always wanted one. Maybe she projected the sibling she never had on me from day one. And that's ok, I've always liked that relationship with her.

I grabbed all my things, put on my jacket, satchel, purple scarf, and walked outside the office. It was time to go back home alone again. I wanted to ask (Y/N) if she wanted to see a movie with me tonight. I had been trying for weeks to get her hooked on Star Trek, considering she has always been team Star Wars. But she had her boyfriend's party that night. I wished she had fun with him. She deserved to have a good time, after everything we had been through in the latest weeks. We are always busy and always tired. But yet, I've never seemed to matter much about it.

- "So I'm guessing, tonight it's just me, Indian take-out, and a puzzle"- I said to myself out loud as I waited for the elevator.

It was Friday, which meant unless a new case came up, I was finally going to be able to rest for the whole weekend. Finish a few books, get some more. The usual. I remembered (Y/N) said she wanted to go to a library I had told her about. Maybe I could ask her if she wanted to come along.

I finished writing another letter to my mom before I prepared myself to go to bed. That night I told her about our trip back from Los Angeles and how the paparazzi got everything wrong with Lila. I hadn't had a crush on a girl in so long it's embarrassing to try to keep track of time. So, I'll just say, "in a while."

- "Should I call her? I mean, it would only be polite to ask how she is doing..."- I asked myself and sat on the edge of my bed, holding my phone. Yes, I've always talked to myself out loud a lot, and living alone, you kind of have to, in order not to go insane. Or is it the other way around?

I kept looking at my phone when I heard the sound of an income text coming from my bag. I hated cell phones. Until this day, I only carry one because of work, and back then, every text I got meant there was a new case. So nothing made me think otherwise.

- "I'm sorry I was rude today. I hope you are ok"

I read and frowned. It was (Y/N), texting me at two in the morning. I stared at the screen for a moment, not sure what I had to do. Should I write back? It was only polite to answer her text, though I honestly hated texting. But it was (Y/N), she was my best friend. And I needed to know if she was ok.

- "It's ok, are you alright?"

I read those words repeatedly before I pushed "send", and decided to leave my cellphone at the bedside table and walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I got back, there were three messages from (Y/N).

- "I was grumpy the whole trip, sorry I held it against you."

I didn't know she was grumpy. Did something happen to her? I never noticed there was something wrong with her, and she was my best friend. I frowned, confused, and kept reading.

- "And I'm sorry you didn't have more time with the princess."

Princess? I didn't get it at first until I remembered (Y/N) had been pretty nasty with Lila. She was probably talking either derogatorily or ironically about her. But that didn't matter at the moment. Because all I could think of for the rest of the night was her last message.

- "I missed you these days. Wanna go to the movies tomorrow?"

There was a spark that lit inside of me the second I read "I missed you" that I didn't want to fade. I held my breath for a few seconds. I didn't need to think what to answer, 'cos I had already typed a simple "Of course", and I started overanalyzing every word I had read.

Over the last three months, (Y/N) had turned into more than just my favorite co-worker. She was my best friend. There was no one at the BAU that could get me the way she understood me. We talked for hours on the plane, we analyzed cases together, we would hang out at the office, and go out for lunch. We would even hang out on weekends, I would go to her place and do a Doctor Who marathon, or she would come to my home and play chess and listen to old records. Records she brought, 'cos I didn't have much but classical music back then. Still, as soon as she found out about my obsession with vinyl records, she kept giving me classic albums she thought I needed to hear. That's how I met Bob Dylan and David Bowie. And learned to enjoy them. They reminded me of her, and I didn't feel alone when I listened to them. Like I was doing that night.

- "My place at four?"

I texted and waited. (Y/N)'s answer didn't come soon. I was actually in the middle of a Poe anthology when I heard my phone buzz at four in the morning. I know I should be sleeping, but sleep never came easy for me.

- "See you there, honey bunny."

That was the first day she called me that. It was the first time someone called me a loving nickname. Yes, JJ called me "Spence," but that wasn't a nickname, really. It was a short version of my name. This was for real. This was cute. This made my heart skip a beat. Yes, my mother called me cute names sometimes, ever since I could remember... and I remember a lot. But this felt different. It made me feel special. Loved. Closer to someone. Someone I wanted to be closer with.

(Y/N)'s point of view

That night was shit. It was one big fight with Paul. Eventually, he apologized, but I don't think I ever forgave him completely. It was the first time he blamed me for not being with me. He said I was selfish for ditching him on his day.

Because apparently, catching psychopaths across the country is an entirely selfish, self-centered, stupid job apparently.

We were at a bar with his friends, one of their bands had a gig, and they were all together, celebrating. Of course, I got there late, thanks to all the paperwork I had to do when we got back to Quantico. Paul was already tipsy when I got there, with his present. He gave me the cold shoulder for the first half-hour, and I felt so bad, sad, and alone. At first, I actually felt guilty, like I was the one who had fucked it up.

He kept talking with his friends and laughing, completely oblivious to my existence, ignoring every time I tried to engage in the conversation. I even got a round of drinks for the table. But apparently, it was the least I could do.

I was sorry I was late. But I wasn't sorry I was working. Derek and Hotch were right. When I was in the field, I had to put my head into it, and being frustrated and anxious 'cos I wanted to go back home to be with my boyfriend on his birthday was selfish. As selfish as Paul was acting that night.

It made me want to cry, but I hadn't done it in such a long time. I didn't want to crack because of something so silly.

It wasn't until I got a text from García that I realized I had to get out of there. I was finishing my third beer, trying to find a way to talk to Paul, but he kept dismissing every try I gave.

- "I'm glad you got home safe. Derek told me about the shooting."

Right, I almost got shot, I could have died, and Paul was a little bitch 'cos I was late for his birthday. I wasn't going to take that. No way. Not even my dad made a fuzz when I was late for his annual barbecue 'cos I was coming from a case in Tampa. I wasn't going to take it from Paul.

- "Ok guys, have fun!"- that was all I said, grabbed my bag, and stormed out of the bar. Fuck, it felt good.

- "Wait, wait!"- Paul showed up running behind me just as I reached the door- "Where are you going?"

- "Home, I want to rest, and you are enjoying your time with your friends. I'm glad you are having fun, today is your birthday, don't worry, I'll be fine."

- "Babe, come on, you got here late, and now you want to leave early?"- I frowned and freed my arm from his hand, 'cos he was still grabbing it tightly.

- "Are you trying to make me feel guilty? You've been an asshole! I got here 'cos I was working in Los Angeles catching a fucking psychopath! I wasn't napping! And I couldn't do anything to get here earlier! really, Paul? what the fuck?!"

Although it was clear he was drunk, I couldn't blame the alcohol for his attitude.

- "I'm sorry, I just thought you could get home earlier, ask your boss, tell him..."

- "Tell him what? "Hey Hotch, I gotta go home 'cos it's Paul's birthday! So good luck catching this murdered without me!" really? do you think that's how the FBI works?"

I was yelling, and I knew he was embarrassed 'cos people kept staring at us as they walked by, and honestly, I gave a shit. That's how mad I was.

- "I... I don't know! it just felt like you didn't even care"

- "Didn't... I didn't care?"- and that was it- "Shit, Paul, you don't even know me, do you?"

I shoved him and walked away from him immediately, not looking back.

- "Babe, come on!"- he grabbed my arm and stopped me- "Please, it's my birthday, stay!"

- "No, have fun with your friends. I am going to sleep. I'm too tired for this stupid bullshit."

But I didn't go home. The second I got into a cab, I called my best friend, enraged.

- "Hey! what's up?"- Lucy's voice was so cheerful, even though it was almost midnight- "Are you ok?"

- "Are you home?"

- "Yeah, what is it?"

- "Can I come over?"

- "Sure! I'm in my pajamas already, but..."

- "I don't care, I just... don't wanna go to my place"

- "Is everything ok?"

- "Yeah, I just need to talk to you 'cos you are emotionally smarter than I am"- she chuckled, 'cos that was something I would usually tell her.

- "I'll make some tea. I just made some oatmeal cookies"

- "Then it's girl's night."

I got to Lucy's house, took off my shoes, and fell on her couch, groaning, weary.

- "Hello to you too"- she joked and walked to the kitchen- "How are you?"

- "I'm so fucking tired, Lu. I think I need to sleep for a whole week."

- "That bad?"- my best friend appeared by my side with a cup of earl grey tea and fresh homemade cookies.

- "Fuck, I love you so much"- she laughed again and forced me to move my legs to sit next to me. I sat down and held the cup, taking a deep breath. I love that smell. Always have, always will.

- "So, what happened?"

- "I'm dating an asshole, and I almost got shot"

- "What?!"- she nearly jumped and wide opened her eyes as I took a bite of a cookie and nodded

- "Yeah, an asshole who made me feel like shit 'cos I got late to his birthday party 'cos I was catching a psychopath in California with the team."

- "When did you almost get shot?!"- she was still in shock, waiting for more info about that, instead of Paul.

- "Derek and I were following a lead when a potential unsub started shooting at us"

My friend was silent, her eyes were still wide opened, and her face was pale.

- "Nothing happened to me, Lu! look at me!"- I waved and tried to smile as wide as possible- "Nothing happened, really!"

- "I hate your job"

- "Come on! It was nothing! I mean, detective Kim was shot, but he is gonna be ok. It's part of the job."

- "That's why I hate your job."

I raised an eyebrow at my friend and took another sip of tea.

- "You are going to text me each time you get home safe 'cos now I am worried sick you are out there trying to catch fucking psychos!"- I gasped in shock.

- "Wow! You cursed!"- that was weird. It was so odd I wanted to mark the day in the calendar and celebrate it every year as the day Lu swore. She never did. She wasn't a prude, but the girl took special care of her vocabulary. I don't know why. I curse like a sailor. I guess I swore for the two of us. There is a balance in every friendship. That was ours.

- "That's how worried and mad I am! Why did you pick such a dangerous job?"

- "Because it's what I always wanted to do, and Lu, I swear, it feels so good, so fucking good"- I stood up holding my cup, and started walking across the room.

- "Yesterday, I made a linguistic analysis that helped to define the personality of the unsub"

- "What is an unsub"?- my friend looked confused.

- "An unknown subject"

- "The suspect?"

- "Yeah"

- "Why don't you just call it "suspect"?"

- "It's the proper vocabulary at work"

- "Ok... unsub"- she repeated

- "What I'm trying to tell you here is that my boss complimented my work"- Lu smiled at me and sipped her tea.

- "I know, I was just messing you with. Now, about your boyfriend..."

My friend paused her words. I could see in her face how she was making her best to rearrange the words to say whatever it was that she was going to say in the least hurtful way.

- "I know you hate him; you don't have to sugar coat it"- her pause was too long, and I was too impatient to wait for her softer version of what I already knew.

- "I never said I hate him!"- she was almost surprised by my words. Almost, 'cos I knew she was trying not to smile- "I just told you, you deserve someone who is not... an asshole."

- "Which basically means "I hate your boyfriend"- Lu gave up and shook her head.

- "Are you going to break up with him?"

- "What? no!"- I stopped walking and took a deep sigh- "Well, I don't know"

- "Are you in love with him?"

- "Nope"

- "Then?"

- "It's complicated."

I knew Lu wanted me to elaborate profoundly on that subject. Still, I didn't want to open that door. So I just shook my head, and Lucy sighed, tapped on the couch next to her, and grabbed the remote control.

- "Pride and prejudice" or "Ten things I hate about you"?

- "I need Mr. Darcy"- I mumbled and sighed, sitting next to her and wrapping myself with one of her blankets. I was lucky Lu was my best friend.

I sent Spencer the first text when I realized, out of the blue, that I had been an ass with him that day, and he didn't deserve it. I said I always wanted to listen to his ramblings, and I ultimately failed at my promise. I know I never promised it to him, but myself. I hated it when everybody acted annoyed when he started talking.

- "I'm sorry I was rude today. I hope you are ok"

After I sent it, I remembered Spencer hated technology. He was doomed with me anyway. I was always going to text him. And I knew he was never going to leave one of my messages unanswered. I knew, and I'm sure he knew it too.

- "It's ok, are you alright?"

I swear I could almost listen to Spencer's voice as I read his words. And I smiled right away, almost smelling the coffee scent he always had.

- "I was grumpy the whole trip, sorry I held it against you"

I had to confess why I had acted like a brat, though I was sure he hadn't notice 'cos he had been too busy with that stupid actress.

- "Who are you texting?"- Lu took her eyes from her knitting and turned to me. I know she was scared I would say Paul, but the thought hadn't even crossed my mind and the fact he hadn't even texted me once to apologize made it even worse.

- "Spencer"- I simply answered and continued writing

- "And I'm sorry you didn't have more time with the princess."

I never stopped to think Reid had to be feeling miserable. He couldn't get to hang out with Lila for longer. He had to be heartbroken. Or maybe not. I wished he wasn't. That girl didn't deserve his tears. As far as I was concerned, Reid was too good for Lila. She was a bimbo. I don't care what everyone else said. I know I shouldn't call girls that, but I never liked her. Besides, he took all of Reid's time those days, and I never got a chance to hang out with him.

- "Your Spencer from work?"- Lu continued knitting. She knew everything about everything there was to learn from the BAU. She had already heard me hating Gideon from time to time and Morgan's annoying jokes. He knew Hotch scared the bejesus out of me and that García was the cutest, sweetest girl in the whole FBI.

- "Yes"

- "Am I ever going to get to meet your team?"

- "Why do you want to meet them?"- I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't feel comfortable with the idea of my worlds colliding.

- "'Cos, they all sound nice, but if you don't want to, then that's cool"- I groaned, annoyed with myself, not with my friend's request.

- "I just don't feel ready yet"

- "That's cool"- Lu made lights off of the whole deal, but I felt like I owed her an explanation.

- "I don't want to show them my true colors just yet, 'cos I'm still trying to feel comfortable around them"- Lu nodded and continued knitting.

I felt a little bad, but it was the truth. I wasn't embarrassed by my friends, no way, it was just too soon, I guess.

The only member of the team I could introduce to my friends was Spencer. Did he want to meet them? I hadn't talked much with him in the last few days... and I missed him. I remembered he said he felt people were forced to be with him, and it ached to think he had that image of everyone around him.

- "I missed you these days. Wanna go to the movies tomorrow?".

I already missed not having Spencer around after three months of working together. I think that happens when you get used to having someone around you all the time.

Spencer's point of view

Having a day for myself didn't happen that often. And it was weird. I took care of the laundry, went to the store to get the essentials: cookies, donuts, coffee, cream, sugar, and jello. Then, I found myself sitting in my living room, reading all alone. I took a look at my wristwatch. It was one-thirty.

I held my phone and left it aside. But after a few minutes, I grabbed it again and started dialing. But no, I hung up and sighed. Yes, I've always been a chicken, but calling Lila was terrifying. I didn't know what to say; I just wanted to see if she was ok. I took a deep breath and held onto that thought. I was just calling to know if she was ok.

- "Hi, it's Spencer... Hello! Hi... I'm Spencer"

Yes, I even practiced it out loud a few times.

- "Hello?"- her voice on the other side of the line froze me. I even held my breath- "Hello?"

- "Hi... Lila? it's... me... Spencer"- I could almost hear her smile through the phone, and I was grateful I was alone in my house, and no one could see me blush.

- "Hi! Spencer! I'm ok, how are you? how was the flight back home?"

- "It was ok, I'm ok, you? how are you feeling?"- she sighed and made a pause.

- "I'm ok, I guess. My parents came to stay with me, so I'm not alone. The press has been annoying, as usual. I'm basically just locked inside the house with my family, at least until things cool off."

- "I'm sorry you still have to be hidden"

- "Don't worry about it. It shouldn't take long anyway. People will forget this whole deal as soon as another scandal comes up."

Lila giggled, and I didn't know what to say. I was lost in the image of her smile after we kissed. Eidetic memory was a blessing at that moment.

- "And... what are you doing?"- she whispered.

- "I was reading for a while."

- "Are you planning to spend the day at home?"

- "Yeah, no, I mean, well, I'm going out in a bit to the movies."

- "Dr. Reid has a date?"- was she jealous? Was she just teasing? I honestly don't know.

- "Yeah, no, no, actually (Y/N) and I are going to the movies in a while, she should be here soon."

- "The rude agent? Is she your friend?"- her voice was somehow surprised. I didn't know why.

- "She is my best friend, actually"- I hadn't thought about it that way, but (Y/N) was already my best friend.

- "How can you be friends with her?"- I didn't know how to answer that.

- "Why shouldn't I?"

- "She doesn't seem to be anything like you, Spence. You are a nice guy, and she is... well, I'm surprised. She was disrespectful to me the whole time, she kept trying to make me feel stupid, and it felt she thought she was doing me a favor for being there instead of doing her job!"

Yes, (Y/N) hadn't been nice with Lila, but she did a fantastic job. Sure, she had an attitude towards her, I don't know why, but that didn't get in the way of her excellent work. That was what mattered.

- "I just can't imagine you two hanging out... anyway... I'm glad you called."

- "I... I wanted to know about you... I was worried you would be still shocked after what happened."

- "No, you saved my life"- there was a knock on my door, and I instantly stopped listening to Lila.

- "Give me a second, please"- I asked her and walked to the answer.

As soon as I opened the door, I found (Y/N), with an apologetic smile standing outside my apartment.

- "I'm sorry, I know I was supposed to be here later, but I didn't want to be home"- I nodded and invited her in.

- "What is it?"- Lila asked at the other side of the line. And somehow, I was sure she wasn't going to be happy with my answer.

- "(Y/N) is here"- and just like that, my best friend showed me a box with my favorite food.

- "I brought you coffee and a donut"- and I was thankful, 'cos I hadn't eaten anything since my breakfast that morning.

- "I see... well, maybe we can talk when you are not busy"- Lila's voice sounded upset, I don't know why- "Have fun with your friend."

- "Yes, definitely, I'll call you later"- and without another word, she hung up.

- "I'm sorry to interrupt"- (Y/N) was honestly concerned she was getting in the middle of something important- "I know we said at four, but... I just didn't..."

She looked tired, weary, actually. She was just standing in the middle of the living room, staring at her cup of coffee, not saying a word.

- "Are you ok?"- I wasn't sure she wanted to talk about it. Somehow I always had to adjust my questions to her timing. We talked about her whenever she wanted to open up. Not when I wanted to know what was going on.

- "Yeah, I just had a fight with Paul last night, and I don't want to talk to him, and I'm pretty sure he is going to drop by my apartment at some point during the day."

Her body language told me right away; she was frustrated. She kept rubbing the back of her neck as she took a deep breath and made a pause. I invited her to sit down, and she did, at the couch, while I sat back on my favorite armchair, where I had left my book.

- "What happened?"

- "Paul thought he is more important than my job, and when he realized he was wrong, he snapped."

- "Did he hit you?"- I held my breath at the thought, but she shook her head.

- "No, he is not violent, just a douche. We argued, I left his party. He has been calling, but I don't wanna talk to him, I don't know what to say..."

- "Do you love him?"- and she shook her head again- "Then, why are you with him?"

Her silence was long. Too long, maybe. She looked at her cup, and I looked at her. I couldn't read what she was feeling.

- "I guess I think if I break up with him, I'll lose the version of myself I don't want to lose."

She was clearly embarrassed, I could read it on each movement, and on her blushed cheeks.

- "I know it sounds stupid, but... you know, losing myself is what scares me the most in this job, and being with Paul is a constant reminder of who I like to be."

- "You are awesome on your own, (Y/N)"- words just left my lips, and I didn't give them much thought.

- "You are who you are because it is who you want to be, not because someone else is making you, you don't need someone to remind you anything, you just need to stay true to yourself."

For someone with a lot of problems with self-esteem and social anxiety, I was a great advisor. I felt like a fraud, but I also knew I was right.

- "Harder to be done than said"- she whispered and laid to the side of the couch, resting her head on a cushion- "Anyway, I don't want to think about Paul right now. I guess I'll have to deal with him later, or tomorrow. I don't know. What were you doing? I'm sorry to intrude."

- "No, don't worry, I was just talking with Lila- she raised her eyebrows, completely surprised

- "Wow, Reid, you dog!"- I felt my cheeks burn with those words, and I know I started shaking my head immediately, trying to take any weird thought from her mind. I don't know why.

- "No, I was just worried about her"

- "Of course, you were"- her voice was so ironic, and her smile was so big, I knew she was enjoying teasing me.

- "You were also very worried when you followed her into the pool to make sure no underwater unsub would hurt her, right?"

I knew the team was never going to let that go. I was still praying for Morgan to be a good friend and keep the jokes to a minimum. I guess I was still pretty naive back then because, of course, he didn't. It took months for him to stop.

- "So, are you planning on staying in touch with the princess?"- it was funny how still after solving the case, (Y/N) was annoyed by her.

- "Why do you hate her so much?"- I had to ask.

- "Why are you avoiding answering my question?"

- "Why don't you answer mine first?"

We looked at each other in silence, both of us waiting for a reply. (Y/N) kept a silly grin on her face, though her gestures were now more relaxed. When she got home, she worried me, 'cos she looked pretty affected, tired, and stressed.

- "I don't hate Lila, I just didn't like her. She was annoying, always ignoring our orders, keeping herself in danger, not helping, being a squeamish little princess who is used to do whatever the fuck she wants, and who didn't care to put people around her in danger."

She finally confessed and sighed. I don't know how I was looking at her, but she chuckled.

- "Of course, you were oblivious to all this 'cos you couldn't stop staring at her."

- "I didn't not!"- I nearly jumped from the couch, highly offended... pretending to be offended actually. I felt embarrassed and busted instead.

- "Spencer Walter Reid, I saw you staring at her tits while on set, so don't come here with your naive puppy eyes trying to convince me otherwise, ok?"- I couldn't help it and had a fit of laughter that ended up making her laugh too.

- "I won't deny I noticed she has a stunning figure"- I finally managed to say. I felt a cushion hit my face immediately as (Y/N) continued laughing.

- "You are just like all guys, Reid, high IQ or not, you show them big tits, and you all just lose it"

I wanted to think she was wrong, but there was a big part of those words that were true. It wasn't only the breast. It was the entire presence of a beautiful woman that made me stutter and fluster right away. It had been hard to get to talk to (Y/N) from day one. It took me weeks to get to act as human as possible around her.

My friend smiled and took a sip of her coffee. I sighed, thinking about her question. I hadn't decided yet, though a big part of me, 99% of my mind, already knew the answer. I guess I was in denial of the truth.

- "Are you gonna eat that donut?"- she asked me and took me from my thoughts a few seconds later- I still haven't had lunch, and if you don't take it from my reach in three seconds, I'm gonna...

- "Mine!"- I grabbed it and took a bite of it in a second. She couldn't even finish what she was saying.

- "I'm glad I didn't try to touch it, 'cos I'm afraid you would have chewed my finger like a zombie."- I chuckled and nodded as I chewed in silence for a moment.

- "I don't think we'll keep in touch"- I admitted out of the blue and took another bite of my donut. (Y/N) just nodded and drank her coffee in silence.

- "Me and Lila, we have nothing in common in real life. She was only attracted to me because of the circumstances."

- "Why would you say that, honey bunny?"- I froze and stared at her in silence, shocked- "Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

- "No, no, no, you didn't!"- I quickly corrected her- "I'm just surprised 'cos... well, you... no one had called me "honey bunny" before."

- "Is it too awkward? And corny?"- I shook my head and looked at her. She bit her lips and furrowed her eyes.

- "Can I call you that? Honey Bunny"

I didn't even hesitate, and nodded, as she continued talking fast.

- "Because I can't help it. I give people nicknames, and you give me the "honey bunny" vibes. And it's way cuter than "pretty boy" unless you want me to call you "Baby girl."

I chuckled and finished my donuts. (Y/N) smiled at me, and all I could do was to start talking facts.

- "Did you know pet names are actually called hypocorism?"

- "Greek, right?"- of course, master in Linguistics...

- "Yes! and in Viking societies, most people had one. They were used in addition to or instead of the first name"

- "That I didn't know"- I love when I give her facts she doesn't know.

- "In some circumstances, the giving of a nickname had a special status in Viking society. It created a relationship between the name maker and the recipient of the nickname."

- "So, now we have a relationship?"- she questioned and smiled- "You are really on fire, Spencer Reid."

- "No, that's not what I meant"- I was nearly stuttering and trying to explain.

- "I know, I know, I'm just joking with you... you can call me by a nickname if you want."

- "But I like your name,(Y/N)"

- "I know, but it would be cool to have our own nicknames, so only we call each other by those names, so you'll be my honey bunny, and I'll be your...?"

She made a pause waiting for me to finish her sentence, but I didn't know how to.

- "Ok, we'll revisit this idea later, but you got the point."

I could understand why (Y/N) didn't want the FBI to take what made her herself. She was fun and playful and not tainted by all the misery and horror we saw every day, in every case. Who wouldn't want to stay like that?

- "And by the way, honey"- she said after a few seconds- "You are awesome, and if some girl is attracted to you, it's not caused by the circumstances, it's because you are amazing."

I looked down at my hands, unable to make eye contact with her. I know I was blushing. I've never been good with compliments.

- "Thanks"- I manage to whisper, and that was it.

- "Now, what if we go to eat some real food, and then we go to the movies?"- I smiled at her and nodded.

- "Sounds like a good plan"

- "Are you up to some salads?"- and I frowned disgustedly right away- "That's what I thought."

It was a fun day. It was so comfortable talking to her. We could ramble about anything and everything for hours. We had lunch in a pizza place near my house, then walked to the movies, I picked a documentary, and she dragged me to see Taken. Then, we stopped by to get a coffee, and I walked her home.

- "You know, coffee wasn't trendy in America until the Boston Tea Party of 1773, when making the switch from tea to coffee became something of a patriotic duty."

- "Are you calling me anti-patriotic 'cos I picked an Early Gray?"- she cut me an angry gaze, though it was clear she was just kidding.

- "All I'm saying are facts, and facts aren't wrong."

- "Well, I'm sorry for not drinking the fifth coffee of the day. I may or may not need to sleep a little tonight."

I just smiled and continued walking. I could be funny with her, that was new.

- "Hey, honey"- we were about to reach her building when I felt her pulling my sleeve. (Y/N) stopped walking and looked at me with a short smile- "Thank you for today."

- "What? why?"

- "'Cos I needed to go out with you today, so... thank you for doing it."

I was surprised to hear (Y/N) saying she needed to go out specifically with me. I didn't know what to answer either. I just smiled back at her and probably blushed.

- "Babe"- Paul's voice interrupted our moment suddenly. I had never met him in person, but (Y/N) had shown me pictures of him and her friends once. He walked over and ignored me completely. He held (Y/N)'s hands and looked at her, concerned.

- "What are you doing here?"- she didn't look so happy to see him.

- "I've been waiting for you for like an hour, where were you? I have called you a million times."- I took a step back and waved at them.

- "I'm gonna go home, (Y/N)."

- "Who is this?"- and suddenly, Paul turned to me, and his eyes threatened me. I could feel how upset he was to see me. And... well, Paul is tall. And big, like Morgan. The kind of guy I wouldn't want to fight with, never.

- "My friend, Spencer"- (Y/N) freed her hands from his and took a step back, just like I had done.

- "Spencer from your work?"

- "The only Spencer I know."

Annoyed (Y/N) is a whole different person. I saw her acting rude with Lila, and now her attitude with her boyfriend was incredibly uncouth. It's always better to stay on her good side. Believe me, I know.

- "Hi"- I waved again and tried to smile, though I know I failed- "I'm gonna go home"- (Y/N) looked at me, and somehow I felt she was begging me not to leave.

- "Ok, honey... I'll see you Monday, ok?"- I nodded and waved again. Paul ignored me. I didn't like the guy immediately.

It took me a second to profile that asshole, and I instantly hated him. I've always done my best not to be a jerk to people. I try my best not to judge the book by its covers. But Paul. Paul was a completely different case.

It was clear he was controlling and insecure. The way Paul felt he needed to pull her closer to him as soon as he stood next to her. How his hands turned into fists when she called me "honey." How he clenched his teeth when (Y/N) called me her friend. He was jealous. He looked the possessive kind, and that was never good.

I hoped (Y/N) would get out of that relationship. I didn't trust Paul. It only took two minutes next to him to know he wasn't right for her.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I didn't know what I wanted to do about my relationship with Paul. That day we talked, he said he was sorry, I said I forgave him, although I didn't, and I asked him to leave, under the excuse I was tired and needed to rest.

- "This stupid job is changing you"- he spit the words from my door as I stood there, insulted. But instead of yelling, I just stared at him and made my best not to raise my voice.

- "Well, maybe you should think if this (Y/N) is the one you want to be with, 'cos it is what it is."

I slammed the door and turned around, decided not to think about anything for the rest of the weekend.

That's why Saturday night, I stayed on the couch, eating pizza and watching the whole second season of Doctor Who, again. Monday didn't come soon enough. And for the first time ever, it was Sunday, and I felt the urge to be called for a case. I wanted to see dad, but, of course, he was at work. So, I slept in, texted Lu, Frank, and Mikey, played bass, and even took a nap. It felt weird.

It was weirder to realize how happy I felt when I walked into the bullpen Monday morning to find a cup of fresh coffee waiting for me. I turned around and found Spencer sitting at his desk with a silly grin on his lips.

- "Thank you, honey bunny."

We had a local case that week, and that meant, after three months, that two of my worlds were going to collide.

When we reached the police station, I took a deep breath and walked slightly slower than the rest. I hid behind Morgan and tried to go as unnoticed as possible. I knew it wasn't going to work, but it was worth the shoot.

- "Chief (Y/L/N), nice to meet you. I'm agent Hotch, this is agent Gideon, Morgan, Greenwood, doctor Reid and..."

- "My princess."

The silence amongst my teammates was priceless. They all turned to me, surprised as I smiled, embarrassed, and waved.

- "Hi dad"

- "Oh! Chief (Y/L/N)!"- Morgan chuckled- "This is gonna be fun."

- "We have two bodies and a missing person, Derek. This is not going to be fun at all."- I argued and shook my head.

It was a little fun, though. Dad spoiled the team the whole time we stayed in their office. The number of donuts and coffee he got us was obscene. I felt spoiled and like a kid. I don't know if that was a good thing, it didn't help catch the unsub, but it didn't make it harder either.

What made it harder was sergeant Jim Brown. He was a jerk. He kept interrupting our job, making the worst observations possible and putting us back. But what was driving me crazy was his attitude towards Reid. He was an asshole. From the second he set eyes on the doctor, he started making fun of him like his sword enemy.

- "Does your mom know you are here?"- he asked as he walked over where Reid and I worked on the geographic profile.

- "Does your mother know you are an asshole?"- I answered right away, not even turning from the board to look at him. He fell silent, and Reid cleared his throat. You could tell he was uncomfortable, and he wanted to say something back, but he just froze.

- "What do you've got?"- Hotch appeared and finished with the awkward silence that hung amongst us like a dense fog.

- "Based on the geography, there are just a few places on the area the unsub may have taken the victim."- Reid pointed to the map- "Considering this is where the abduction took place, and these are the disposal sites for the first two victims, this is his radio of action."

- "Really? that's your whole analysis?"- Brown chuckled- "A triangle on a board?"

I had to stop myself from punching him right here

- "If we consider the victimology, the time of the abductions, and the disposal of each body, we can infer that he has a toddler who takes most of his time and attention, which means he is a single father"- Spencer started talking, and he didn't stop- "And the only thing the victims had in common was the fact they all had young kids, which means they frequented these two playgrounds"- Reid pointed two the park- "Those has to be the places he picks his victims, and he follows them to their houses"

- "Based on the geography, he isn't changing his victimology"- Hotch added, walking away with his phone in his hand- "I'll ask Morgan and Elle to go to the parks and show the sketch of the unsub"

- "So you just point a map, and everybody treats you like a genius?"- Brown chuckled, and that was all I could handle.

- "Brown, why don't you move your ass anywhere else but here? if you are not going to cooperate, then we don't need you"- I swear to god, I could feel my blood boiling.

- "(Y/N), I'm just..."

- "Just acting like an asshole, and we don't need your attitude, you are not of any help. And if I hear you talking to or about Dr. Reid again, I swear to god, you are gonna have nightmares about the pain that my fist is gonna cause on your face. And you are gonna have to live with the shame a twenty-four years old SSA kicked your grassy ass."

There was a silence in the room. Everyone in the office turned to look at us. Even my dad. Brown stared at me, embarrassed, but most of all, upset.

- "Who the hell do you think you are?"- Jim stood up next to me, trying to threaten me. I don't know why he felt he could. Brown was thirty, tall, a little chubby, but absolutely nothing I couldn't handle. I knew I could have him on the floor, crying in less than ten seconds.

- "An FBI agent who can't take your rude comments about one of her teammates, so really, if you are not helping, then you are on our way to catch a killer."

- "(Y/N), don't"- Spencer put a hand on my shoulder, I know he was trying to calm me down, but I don't think that was going to do the job.

- "Yes, (Y/N), listen to your boyfriend."

- "Who pissed on your cereal today, Brown?"- I would have pushed him if Spencer wouldn't have stopped me, holding my shoulders again.

- "(Y/L/N), come here"- I heard Hotchner's voice calling me from the other side of the office. His face was so mad it was red. Next to him, my dad called Brown as well.

- "Great, now you got me into trouble"- he whispered, and I had to make a significant effort to control the urge I felt of hitting him, right there.

- "That's not an excusable behavior, (Y/N). I need you back at Quantico, you are gonna help Garcia tracing the unsub, and we'll call you when we need you"- I had to bite my tongue and nod.

- "Yes, Hotch."

- "I understand you were trying to help a teammate, but that is not the language or the way. Your attitude was immature, and I could suspend you for it."

I looked down at my shoes, knowing Hotch was right. But after a few seconds, I looked into his eyes and nodded.

- "You are right, and I am sorry I was childish. I know it was silly, but I'm not sorry I defended Reid, and I won't stop protecting my team each time I need to."

- "I'm not asking you to stop doing that. I'm telling you, you have to learn how to do it acting like an SSA."

- "(Y/N), a word?"- my dad walked into the room. I could see Jim storming out of his office, slamming the door on his way out.

- "It's not a good time, dad. I have to go back to work"- I said and grabbed my jacket- "If you want to tell me off, we can talk after the case is done."

He looked at me one more time. I could read the irritation he felt, but also... was he proud? I didn't get it at the moment. I just stayed serious, grabbed my stuff, and walked outside as discreetly as possible. I wasn't in the mood for making another scene.

- "(Y/N), wait"- I heard Spencer calling out my name. I was about to get into the SUV to drive back to Quantico. He sprinted over, looking so dorky I couldn't help but giggle. So tall and so thin, those nerdy glasses. The boy was like a cartoon.

- "Where are you going?"

- "I have to go back and help Penelope"- he narrowed his eyebrows, confused.

- "Why?"

I smiled and played it cool. I didn't want Spencer to know I had gotten into trouble for defending him. Of course, he knew it, but I didn't want to whine about it. I honestly didn't care. I had done it once, and I would do it again.

- "(Y/N), you shouldn't have done that"

- "No, Spencer, Jim shouldn't have done what he did. He was an asshole out of the blue! and I wasn't going to take it."

- "But I didn't even care."

- "Yes, Reid, you did."

I could read it, it was clear. He was still afraid to stand up for himself. He didn't feel he was good enough. Reid was so insecure it made me want to slap him and yell on his face how awesome he was. That wouldn't have helped, but still, I couldn't shake the idea from my mind.

- "You don't have to, really, now you are in trouble because of me."

- "No, I'm not in trouble, and it's not your fault. I made a decision and stopped an asshole. You would have done the same for me"- the sweet way Reid looked at me was heart-melting.

- "Yes, though I don't know if I could ever be as intimidating as you are"- I laughed and punched his arm.

- "Come on! You can kick ass!"

- "(Y/N), look at me!"- he pointed at his skinny arms and geeky face- "Without a gun, I look like a teacher's assistant!"

- "Shut up, Reid, you are an incredible SSA, and you kick ass!"- he stared at me like I was bullshiting him, but I wasn't. I believed every word I said.

- "Right"

- "I mean it, and if you were a teacher assistant, you would be the hot one all the girls have a crush on."

I assured him, and the way his cheeks turned red reminded me he was a man who wasn't used to hear how amazing and gorgeous he was.

- "Now, honey, I have to go, I don't want to make Hotch even more upset, and I'm pretty sure Garcia has a chocolate bar hidden in one of her drawers, and I'll find it"- he smiled and waved.

- "Thank you"- he whispered as I turned around before I got into the car.

- "Don't thank me, I'm your friend. Friends stand up for each other, always."

Spencer's point of view

Hotch was standing in front of the board with (Y/N)'s dad when I walked back into the station. I couldn't see Sergeant Brown anywhere around, but if he was there, I didn't care. There was a fire burning inside of me that I didn't want to lose. I wanted to feel like that forever. Like I could say what I wanted to say, to who I wanted to. Like I was someone people should respect.

- "Hotch, can I talk to you for a second?"

- "If it's about (Y/N), I'm not going to tolerate that behavior. Even if she had a good reason to do it, it's not the way."

- "She was just trying to help me. I know she didn't act as... polite as she could have, but Brown wasn't actually the better person either."

- "He has always been an asshole with her"- Chief (Y/L/N) said and nodded at me- "She used to come and help me when she had free time at the academy, 'cos she wanted to learn everything she could, and Brown would always give her a hard time... his childish behavior makes me think he has a crush on her and he got jealous of you today."

I widened my eyes and stared at (Y/N)'s dad in silence. I had no idea what to say at that.

- "That's silly. (Y/N) is just my friend"- I nearly stuttered as I explained the nature of our relationship. He smiled at me and tapped on my back.

- "Don't worry about Brown. He won't come back to the station today"- Mr. (Y/L/N)º confirmed and turned to Hotch.

- "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help"

- "We'll do. Thank you."

(Y/N)'s dad walked away and I turned back to Hotch immediately.

- "No, Reid"- it was all he said- "We are not talking about this now, there's an unsub to catch, and I need you to focus on work."

That was all for the flame inside of me. I just felt silence and stared at the board. Hotch was right though, we had to catch a killer. Everything else could wait.

- "Hey! Reid!"- Morgan's voice took me from my thoughts. We were standing outside a warehouse, bulletproof vest on, gun in hand, but my head wasn't there, and that wasn't a good thing when you are on the field.

- "Kid, wake up! focus!"

- "I'm sorry, I'm sorry"- I held my gun tight and looked around.

- "What the fuck is your problem?"

- "Nothing, nothing, I'm sorry."

I shook my head and concentrated on what was going on. We were at the back of the warehouse, just about to walk in. My heart was pumping so hard, I felt it in the middle of my throat. We walked in slowly, in the middle of the dark. I hate the dark... I am actually afraid of the dark, not the dark itself, but what's in it, until today. And back then, I was a twenty-four years old FBI agent who was scared of the dark. Great. No wonder why people made fun of me.

- "He's here!"- I heard Elle from the other side of the wall, and we ran to her.

Our last victim was barely breathing but still alive. I called the medics and stayed with him while Elle and Morgan ran to catch the unsub.

- "Reid"- I heard (Y/N)'s voice in my ear. She was still back in Quantico, with Penelope- "Keep the head in the game and stay safe, ok?"- I nodded, though she couldn't see me, and smiled.

It felt good to know she was worried for me. Not that the rest of the team didn't care. But she was different. She made me feel special.

- "So, what happened back at the station?"- Morgan asked me in the drive back to the office- "And why was (Y/N) asking you to take care?"- right, everybody heard that.

- "Yeah, Hotch was clearly mad at her. What did she do?"- Elle added and turned to look at me from the passenger seat- "Did you two fight?"

- "No, no, it's nothing like that"- they stayed in silence, waiting for my side of the story- "She had an argument with an officer, Hotch overheard the conversation and sent her back to the office before things would get... out of hands."

- "Out of hands?"- Morgan sounded surprised- "Little mama wanted to fight the guy?"

I stayed quiet, I didn't know if I wanted to let them know all the details, but my silence was too much information anyway.

- "Wow"- Elle sighed and turned around to look at the road again- "What did that guy do?"

- "He was rude, and her dad told us she had always had problems with him... so apparently, she didn't want to deal with his attitude anymore."

- "He must be an asshole to push her to the edge"- I nodded at Morgan's word and stayed quiet- "And why was she worried about you?"- that I didn't know, or I didn't know how to answer.

- "'Cos she is my friend?"- the hesitation in my words wasn't because I doubted her friendship, but because I didn't know if that was the answer they wanted to hear.

- "You did seem pretty off today,"- Elle added and chuckled- "More than usual, at least."

- "I am ok."

I hated that comment. It didn't bother me that people thought I was weird; there is nothing wrong with being weird. It was the fact people talked about it like a bad thing. I was proud to be different. Most of the time, at least.

- "Spencer? hello?"- Elle snapped her fingers in front of my face and forced me to wake up from my thoughts- "Do you want to get a coffee before we reach the office?"

- "Yes, please!"

I walked back into the bullpen and found (Y/N) sitting at her desk, typing. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and she was biting a pencil. I don't know why (Y/N) does that still, but somehow she got the habit when she concentrates on something. I'm guessing it's better than clenching her jaw, which she also does sometimes.

- "Hey"- I stood beside her and left a cup on her desk- "Earl Gray, milk, no sugar"- she smiled and held the cup right away.

- "You are the best friend on earth"- and I felt how my heart swelled in my chest.

- "Then this is unnecessary"- I opened my bag and took a chocolate bar.

- "Never!"- (Y/N) stood up and wrapped her arms around me. It was a first.

Our first hug.

I stayed still. I didn't know how to react. My eyes were wide opened, and my heart was racing. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around (Y/N)'s waist and held her tight. This wasn't about the chocolate or the tea. I could feel it.

I could smell her apple shampoo and her perfume. I could also feel her warm body close to me. It was clear my cheeks were burning at her touch.

- "Thank you"- I whispered and felt her head shaking

- "No, honey, thank you"- she let me go and smiled.

- "Reid"- Gideon's voice made me jump all of a sudden. I smiled at her one more time and ran to his office. But Morgan stopped me halfway. He put a hand on my chest and blocked my way.

- "What was that?"

- "What?"- I narrowed my eyes, confused.

- "You got her coffee and candies, and she just hugged you? she doesn't hug anyone. That's the first time I actually see her being physical with anyone around here"- I shrugged and dismissed his words.

- "We are friends, that's it"

- "You don't like touching people either."

- "I told you, we are friends, that's it... and I got her tea and chocolate, not candies and coffee"- I passed him and walked into Gideon's office.

- "Close the door"- he commanded. He looked serious. Why? What had I done to upset him?

- "I was just about to start my paperwork."

- "Reid, I need you to tell me if your head is in this job"- I stayed still, confused. Why was Gideon asking me such a thing? Had I done something wrong?

- "Of... of course it is"- I got so nervous I even stumbled over my words.

- "The last couple of weeks, I've felt you haven't been concentrating on the cases or the field. Your head is somewhere else. Was it because of Archer's case?"

I think my face betrayed me, 'cos I know I crossed my arms on my chest, fixing my eyes on the pictures on his desk. I ran my hand through my hair in a useless effort to keep it back, but it was too long, and it was getting messy, (Y/N) had already told me, though she also said she liked it.

- "Reid, I know you are young, and life is full of new experiences for you, but when you have this job, this is where your head has to be all the time."

- "Yes, sir, I know that."

- "Hotch told me what happened today"- he sat back on his chair and looked at me, waiting for my explanation. I didn't understand why he wanted to know about it or why he wanted to talk about it with me and not with (Y/N).

- "Nothing happened"- I made light of the situation and looked away.

- "(Y/N) got into trouble defending you from a cop, that's nothing to you?"- was it? I didn't know- "Reid, why didn't you stop Brown before (Y/N) did?"

- "I didn't think it was important... Whatever he said, I didn't care for it."- Gideon nodded and stayed quiet for a few seconds

- "So if people insult you or treat you like you don't matter, you don't do a thing?"

- "If it's someone like Brown, who was just trying to prove he was just as smart as me, then no, I won't do a thing."

- "But you'll leave (Y/N) to do it for you."

- "I didn't want her to get in trouble because of me. I didn't ask her to confront Brown. She was tired of him, not just because of his attitude with me; that's what her dad told me."

- "She also got in trouble when you were kissing Lila back in Los Angeles"- I frowned, puzzled, trying to understand why she had any difficulty because of me back then- "She has an explosive personality."

- "She..."

Ok, Jason was right, (Y/N) had a unique character... but that never happened to be on the way she did her work.

- "She has... a different approach to things."- I added, trying to put it in nice words.

- "She has no patience and doesn't know when to stay quiet"- I narrowed my brows, worried

- "What? No, that's not... do you think she should leave? Do you want to fire her?"- Gideon shrugged and leaned on his desk, moving closer to me.

- "Is she affecting your work?"

- "No! why would you say that?"

- "Because if she is causing you troubles."

- "No, Gideon!"

I stood up and simply snapped. I wasn't even thinking about the words leaving my lips. There it was, that fire inside of me again, making me feel I could and should say what was in my mind, no matter the consequences.

- "If anything, (Y/N) is helping me with my troubles. She encourages me to be better and grow... she listens, cares, doesn't roll her eyes when I ramble and has done more for me in the lastest months than anyone has done in years!"

Gideon didn't move a muscle as he stared at me. I had never spoken to him like that. I had never raised my voice to him, to anyone actually.

- "Good"- that was all I got as a reply- "You can go back to your paperwork now"- I didn't get what had just happened, so I didn't move.

- "So... you won't ask Hotch to fire her?"- and Gideon shook his head.

- "I wasn't planning on it."

-----

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givemethatgold · 4 years ago

Text

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof.

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door.

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up.

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at.

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid.

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite.

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face.

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that,"

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud.

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you.

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch.

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

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malachi-walker · 4 years ago

Note

Happy birthday, Mal! I love your fics, they evoke so much emotion in me and have made me cry many a time. I don't often reread fics, but i've reread multiple chapters of Rhythm and Blues because they're stuck with me so much. You capture the emotional pain of their trauma and the catharsis that comes with their growth so beautifully. You also write some brilliant meta and just consistently post some fantastic thoughts. Also your love for swords is very appreciated. <3 have a lovely day!

First of all, my apologies for not replying sooner. I was making my mind up about something that would definitely require the use of a read more and thus necessitate dragging myself to desktop (which I hate because my laptop predates the dinosaurs.)

But seriously. Thank you so much. This is honestly one of the sweetest comments I've ever gotten and definitely made my already pretty sweet bday even better.

So about that read more. In honor of you, @metalesbo, my friends @n7punk and @jem-jarrett and everyone else who sent me well wishes or just really loves my work... Here's the opening section of the next chapter of R&B. Enjoy. It's a long one.

Adora Eternia is about two months shy of her fourteenth birthday when she first realizes she's in love with her best friend.

Though--if asked--she would hasten to explain that it wasn't when she fell in love. But trying to pinpoint the exact moment is an exercise in catching mist: the more she tries to grasp it in her hands the more it spreads out and covers everything. It just is: pure and simple and very, very complicated.

It's the beginning of December and the whole town is covered in a thick blanket of snow. Winterfest will be here in a few weeks, so to help out the kids who want to get gifts for their friends the Right Zone administration has shuffled around the groups that usually take their monthly trips on the third and fourth Sundays of the month to double up with the other two. As part of group three, she and Catra got the first week (the other three members of their crew are week two folks anyway and thus outside the reorganization.)

It's still kinda weird to think that: their crew. For so long, it was just Catra and Adora. Adora and Catra. One unit bound together, just them against the world. But there's also something nice about being part of a small cluster, their "scrappy little lone wolf pack" as Catra had once put it with a wry grin before Lonnie shoved her over with an, "Excuse you, I'm a great people person when I'm not busy making sure you idiots haven't set yourselves on fire!"

They all got a good laugh out of that one.

But regardless, the holidays are coming up and this is the first year that any of their group has felt like actually doing anything for it, aside from wrangling together a sleepover and seeing if they can convince the kitchen staff to slip them some leftover eggnog.

They made each other promise not to go too extravagant and keep each person's gift to ten dollars or lower. Even though their quarterly stipend has increased from three hundred to four hundred to match with inflation over the past eight years, it still isn't a whole lot for three month's worth of expenses, especially when they also have to budget regularly for clothes to keep up with the seemingly endless growth spurts.

There's also the usual budgetary concern of keeping her and Catra's first aid kit well supplied...

Adora shakes her head to dislodge the intrusive thought and continues marching onward through the snow. This trip is a good thing. She won't let all the awful realities of their life taint it.

With so many kids running around and wanting to shop on their own to surprise their giftees, Right Zone had to negotiate with both the local police and whatever other civic authorities they could get ahold of to come out en masse and keep an eye on them all. The kids had still come with their usual teachers, of course, but doubling the load and also splitting up was a logistical nightmare. Which is just a convoluted way to say the town is positively crawling with uniformed officers, off duty members of the fire brigade, emergency personnel, and other such authority figures quietly keeping watch and making sure no one tries anything.

Adora knows that somewhere in the press of bodies, Grizzlor's busy wrangling two new "brats" (seven and nine, respectively, and definitely not friends.) Somewhere, a certain Magicat is probably grumbling over the indignity of being forced to wear shoes and kicking every snowpile she can, like she can send a direct message to whatever cosmic force is responsible for her current frustration.

On an ordinary month she and Catra--being old enough to be allowed a bit more freedom to do what they want--would buddy up to watch each other's backs while they did their shopping. But this isn't an ordinary month, so once they'd each gotten gifts for the other three they'd split up on opposite ends of Main Street with an agreement to move clockwise to avoid running into each other. Afterwards, the entire group would rendezvous at the small clock tower in the park a block over before heading back to Right Zone.

Ten dollars wasn't a lot to work with, but Adora had done her best: a new stress ball for Kyle, some moisturizing oil for Rogelio since the early winter shed had wiped out his supply and he'd been too busy to pick up some more, a twelve pound kettle weight for Lonnie now that their shared exercise routine was getting a bit too easy for her... Utilitarian choices, to be sure, but she's been paying attention and that has to count for something.

Catra's the difficult one, of course. Partly because Adora doesn't want to just get her something practical, but also because they share nearly everything between them already. About the only thing that is definitively off limits is Catra's guitar, and she's told Adora enough about her time with Tao over the years that Adora wouldn't even ask. Beyond that... Well, there's a reason why most of Adora's day off hoodies have small strands of orange fur stuck to them.

Still. I want to get her something that's hers. Something she'll like. Something she doesn't have to share with anyone, not even me.

In the end, she nearly walks past it. In one of the artisanal shops that dot small towns like liver spots, she finds a display of hand stamped necklace pendants, with a design sheet beside it. There are a lot of the usual nature designs and such, but the one that catches her eye is a treble clef with the five staff lines bleeding out from it. They ring the edge of the pendant in a half circle, and scattered haphazardly along the lines are the other music notes.

The lack of proper order would drive Adora insane. She understands that it's just meant to look pretty, not be an accurate representation of musical notation, but still... She knows her own (broken) brain well enough to know that.

It suits Catra, though.

"Hey," Mismatched eyes looked down at Adora as her head draped backwards over the back of their desk chair, the throbbing behind her left eye threatening to escalate into a migraine. "Guess I don't have to ask how the composing's going."

"It sucks," Adora groused back, sitting up and gesturing Catra over. She jabbed at two particular spots with the half chewed off eraser end of her pencil, two hard jabs each, like she was filing a complaint. "Most of it is just what I'm going for, but these two places here... They aren't sounding right. I've been going back and forth over structure all afternoon, but nothing I do helps."

"Hmmm..." Catra stroked her chin and nudged Adora over so she could sit on the arm of the chair (they'd never gotten around to requesting a second, mostly because Adora didn't want to risk Shadow Weaver suspecting they were getting too chummy.) "Got any scratch paper?"

Adora pointed to the pile of half crumpled notebook paper she used when making adjustments and Catra snorted. "Ok, dumb question. Just let me see here..."

Grabbing a pen, she quickly inked a fresh set of staff lines and copied the notes Adora had already put down, making sure to leave space to work. Glancing between the two, she drummed her fingers on the desk, playing along in her head.

"Hmm..." Catra murmured, worrying at her lower lip with a fang in a manner that was... Oddly distracting. "Ok, how 'bout this?"

Adora jolted, tearing her gaze from Catra's face to look at the sequence of notes scribbled onto the scratch paper. She paused, brow furrowing as she played them over in her mind's eye. It was a little unorthodox, veering away from the path she had carefully laid out... But also blending well with the next part. Almost like the notes took a quick detour and then lead the listener back to where she wanted them.

"Yeah..." Adora replied thoughtfully, the tension all over her body starting to smooth out. "Yeah, that could work."

"Awesome. Let's take a look at the next part."

They ultimately ended up spending several hours going over the entire piece, sussing out every place where Adora was having even the slightest niggle of unease. She didn't accept all of Catra's changes and Catra didn't push the matter, but the ones she did...

They felt right. More right than they had ever felt when it was just Adora running circles around herself.

When they finally finished up she looked over at Catra, tail waving sedately in that way it got when she was simultaneously engaged but relaxed, and asked, "Umm... Do you want to learn with me? I like doing this."

'I like making music with you.'

Catra paused, looking over at Adora searchingly, almost like she couldn't believe the question had come up. No matter how many years had passed between them, that look never really went away, and every time she saw it Adora's chest ached in a way that was hard for her to process.

"I'd like that."

Catra's composing style is very different from Adora's. More wild, more willing to bend and break the rules if it means maintaining audience engagement, but there's always an underlying order to the chaos. To her surprise and pleasure, Adora found herself learning just as much from Catra as Catra was learning from her. Their styles brought out the best in each other.

The jingle of a bell kicks her out of the memory. Mind made up even though it's nearly double her budget, Adora scans the stand of necklaces for the one with the treble clef pattern.

It isn't there. Adora swallows down the disappointment, though she can't help the sigh. Of course. The town was well aware of the large population of music students a short drive away and catered to them accordingly. But there are also dozens of kids out on the street tonight. It isn't that big of a surprise that the design sold out.

Not surprising, but disheartening nonetheless.

She's just begun to turn away when a voice calls from the back. "Hang on a sec there, little miss."

Adora jumps, but remains where she is as a large Taurian man with a massive snow white beard trundles out from a door behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. "Was there a particular design you were interested in?"

Adora points at the treble clef, hope rising. "This one. But it looks like it's already sold out."

"Hmm..." The man scratchs at his chin. "Well with Winterfest coming up, I'm out of blank pendants-"

Adora's shoulders slump.

"-But," The man continues with a smile. "I can double stamp it onto the back of another. Ordinarily I'd charge extra for that, but it's my fault for not ordering enough blanks. Rookie move. Besides, it's the holidays. Now would that be all right by you?"

Nodding frantically in case he changes his mind, Adora scans the other designs, quickly alighting on one in particular. "That one!"

"The claw marks? Bit of an odd combination, but the customer is always right," The old man winked as he reached out to take the necklace from her. "My jig and press is in the corner over here if you wanna watch."

Adora was glad he specified, because as nice as the man seemed there was no way in hell she was going into a back room with a stranger. But she stood next to the window beside a display of miscellaneous knick knacks and puzzles, watching him carefully place the pendant in a cushioned stand to avoid damaging the already printed side and tighten it into place before moving beside the machine.

"You're gonna want to cover your ears," He tells her, patting the machine with one massive hand. "Had to switch to a steam press when the arthritis caught up to me. Used to do it all by hammer. This boy's okay, but he gets loud."

Adora nods, glad for the warning when he bellows "Clear!" and the machine's hammer comes down once, twice, three times with a sound like the ringing of an enormous bell. Once the machine is stopped and carefully turned off, the old man removes the pendant from the press and hands it over to Adora for inspection. "What do you think? Does it pass muster?"

Adora runs her fingertips over the impressions in the metal, memorizing the feel of it, the leftover warmth of the impact. "Perfect."

"Good. Now let's get you rung up."

Counting the five dollars she attempted to surreptitiously slip into the tip jar (the old man winked as he turned back around, so stealth fail) Adora went very over budget, but the others would have to put a gun to her head for her to admit it.

Besides, it's Catra. They already know she's the sole exception to all of Adora's carefully maintained rules.

With everything finished, she continues trudging through the snow toward the park, breathing a sign of relief as she moves away from the shopping district and the people thin out; no one wanting to go to the park in the middle of such bleak weather. Angling around a clustered group of bare trees, she spots the small clock tower in the distance, as well as the figure already standing beside it. Grinning, Adora picks up the pace a bit until she can see Catra clearly and--

Her breath catches.

Since her only experience with this kind of thing has been through books, Adora always expected this moment would be more dramatic. Like back to back in the middle of a fight, or eyes locking from up on stage. Something spectacular, like fireworks, lime explosions, like the feeling of playing a song without a single mistake for the first time. It's always seemed like such a big deal in the stories, and in a way, it is.

Because there's Catra, lost in her own world as she gazes up at the streetlight that's just come on, her left hand extended to let the snowflakes fall into her palm and the light catches the orange of her fur just right to make a blaze of color against the black of her coat. She looks so small, standing in that space all alone on a cold winter's night, but Adora knows deep down that she could never be that small, not when she's Catra, not when she means so much...

Pretty much everything about the past hour--about her entire life since they met if she's being honest--snaps into crystal clear focus.

Oh. I get it now. I'm in love with you.

It's a bad idea. Adora knows that. Shadow Weaver is enough of a menace while believing Catra is simply her roommate, her sometime tool--and Catra had ended up being all too right about the torture not stopping, even after years of Adora trying to direct Weaver's attentions away from her. If the evil old bitch figures out Adora's feelings run deeper, so much deeper...

Her heart beats double time. This whole thing is an unmitigated disaster.

But it's still the best worst thing that's ever happened to her.

She must make a noise, because Catra's ear twitches in her direction, snapping her out of that distant contemplation. She turns her head and looks at Adora, lips curling in a lopsided grin. "Hey, Adora. Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Adora blinks, coming back to herself and mumbling the first excuse that springs to mind. "... Just cold."

"Well no shit. C'mere."

When she closes the distance Catra glances around warily, making sure they're the only ones around, before reaching up and retying the scarf around Adora's neck, patting it once when she's done. "There. I know I make it look good, but you don't have the advantage of fur like me."

Adora looks down at the thin AC/DC t-shirt that Catra's wearing beneath her half open coat, the line of her collarbones and neck, and makes a snap decision. "Is it okay if I give you your present now?"

Catra blinks, a little thrown by the non sequitur. "I mean... Sure? Do you want me to give you yours?"

"I'm good with either," Adora shrugs, trying to ignore how fast her heart is beating, how much she wants to do this before this moment slips away. "I just want to."

There's a long moment of silence as they each examine the other, equally searching. What Catra's looking for, Adora doesn't know. She isn't sure she wants to know.

"Okay."

Breathing deep, Adora reaches into her pocket and pulls out the necklace on its leather cord. Careful to keep the pendant hidden in her hand, she passes it over, fingertips sparking as it's taken. Catra brings it close to her face, running her fingers over the four parallel slashes on the side facing her.

"Why the claw marks?"

Adora laughs, nervous butterflies positively rioting in her stomach. "Because you're a badass. Duh."

"True," Catra smirks, flipping it over and squinting at the other side. "And this?"

"Badass, loves music with all your heart. Not mutually exclusive concepts," Adora says, trying not to give away how much she thinks about this, how much she wants to take that hand in hers. She settles for a playful shoulder bump instead. "Plus we all know you're secretly a big softie."

"Excuse you, I am all sharp edges," Catra giggles, lightly elbowing her before transitioning into a soft little smile. "... Just not with everyone."

Oh God oh God oh God. That smile will absolutely be the death of her.

Swallowing past her horrible awareness of that softness, Adora asks, "So you like it?"

"I love it. Good luck ever getting me to take it off," Catra laughs, then frowns, flexing her fingers. "Hands have gone a little numb, though. Help me put it on?"

Adora.exe promptly crashes to desktop. But she still somehow manages to move, helping Catra hold back her mane so she can slip the leather cord over her head and tuck it beneath her hair. If she hesitates a moment too long in letting go, at least Catra only shoots her an amused glance. "How's it look?"

"Great," Adora manages to croak out, trying to swallow past the sudden dryness in her throat. "You look great. Umm... Happy early Winterfest, I guess?"

"Well, I'm gonna hold onto yours a little longer," Catra laughs, playfully sticking out her tongue before reaching out. "C'mere, you big dork."

Adora shuffles closer, mind and heart both screaming as Catra draws her into a hug, nuzzling her head against the side of her neck. A little whisper. "Thank you."

Adora swallows again, even harder. "You're welcome."

Between them, the necklace rests, the music side pressed right up against Catra's heart.

----------

Fun fact: the shopkeep is based off a cool old dude selling machine pressed necklaces I ran into at a Scottish festival when I was 13, and he made such an impression I never forgot him. Anyway, happy Valentine's! Have a Big Gay Realization!

#answers #rhythm & blues #the catradora rockstar au #featuring adora's big gay realization #and also fantasy christmas

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doyelikehaggis · 4 years ago

Text

Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scydia/McMartin | Scott McCall x Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @wonderdoves & anonymous

"This place is…"

Scott can't even think of a word. He just gazes ahead of them in wonder and awe. For miles, all he can see is snow. A thick white blanket of it covering the entire path ahead, the roads, the cobblestoned buildings, the trees—god, even the trees feel like something out of a fairytale, with long, twisting branches that have a dusting of snow themselves. And it's still going, trying to make them part of the scenery, too.

"You'd think you'd never seen snow before," Lydia teases.

"I haven't—not like this! California's snow is nothing compared to this."

Lydia just smiles, a certain fondness in her eyes. She squints up at the sky, her nose wrinkling slightly, their suitcases dragging along through the snow behind them as they continue their way from the ferry port. Something else that Scott is admittedly still in amazement over; he'd never actually been on a ferry before.

It's just a good thing that the snow stopped long enough for them to actually reach Ireland, or else they'd have still been holed up in their cabin, stuck somewhere in the middle of the sea. Not the worst scenario he can think of, to be fair. But he's glad, nonetheless, because this is so much better.

"I don't know," Lydia says. "I think I prefer the warm winters. I'm just hoping that Gran and Nana make their hot chocolate like they used to when I was younger, I'm telling you, it's the best thing ever."

Scott smiles, finally looking at Lydia as they come to a stop outside a two-storey, cobbled house with a gate around the garden. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her nose a pale pink. Snowflakes have clung to her green hat, along the shoulders of her matching green coat, and to her eyelashes. There's a gleam of pure excitement and joy beneath them as she stares at the house.

When she takes a deep breath, it returns like a puff of smoke. Scott gently squeezes her hand and holds it up in his own, bringing her gloved knuckles to his lips.

"You look nervous," he tells her softly.

"A little," Lydia says, nodding. "Only because I haven't been here since I was… nine? And there's so much to tell them. I mean, I know my mom filled them in on pretty much everything, but still."

Scott nods as well, saying, "I know. It's a lot. But it'll be okay."

"Yeah, of course," Lydia agrees. Her smile seems a little more confident as she gives another nod.

They walk through the gate, into the garden that Scott's now seeing is teeming with things; empty plant pots, kids toys, an overturned bicycle. Even the stones of the house are more interesting than he had initially realized, with bright murals painted across the whole front of the house.

As soon as they enter the house, the door closing behind them, they're hit with unexplainable warmth. And the shouting and giggling of kids that whiz past them, nearly knocking them off their feet.

"I forgot how loud it gets here," Lydia says, but she's laughing. Scott can see it in her eyes as she looks around the entrance hall, beautifully decorated with lengths of tinsel, and handcrafted baubles hanging from the ceiling.

Framed pictures line the walls up the stairs as far as he can. The closest one, hanging by the bottom of the stairs, has a familiar little girl, giving her biggest smile to the camera beside a young woman with a striking resemblance.

"Is this you?" Scott asks, his smile wide.

Lydia looks at the photo. "Oh god, yeah. I think that was when I was, like… six? I came up here every Christmas and New Year before my parents divorced. That's my gran."

"You look like her," Scott tells her, and he can hear the joyful skip of heart, hear it in her proud little hum of agreement.

"Well, maybe without some of the grey hair," a voice says from behind them.

They both turn around, and Lydia's face lights up. She's already squealing and dropping her suitcase and Scott's hand.

"Gran!" Lydia practically flies at her, hugging her tightly.

Her gran laughs, caught by surprise but only for a second, wrapping her up in her arms. "I've missed you too, Ariel!"

"Haven't heard that name in a while," someone else says, with a distinctively more Irish accent, but still holding the same fond, overjoyed tone.

Scott looks at the woman who appears at their side from the room behind Lydia and her gran. He recognizes her instantly from all the photos.

Maddy places a hand on Lorraine's shoulder as she and Lydia pull apart. Lydia looks on the verge of tears as she buries herself into Maddy's open embrace as well for a second, both laughing now.

"And you…" Lorraine looks over Scott with a smile and a gleam in her eyes. A certain kind of knowing. "... You're Scott McCall."

Scott returns her smile and nods. "I am. I've heard a lot about you, Mrs. Martin."

"Yeah, I know a thing or two about you as well," Lorraine tells him, and he knows.

He knows she isn't just talking about him and Lydia being together, but about everything. The deadpool. She knew who he was and what he was going to be before he even hit ten.

For a moment, his worries from the ferry come back. Not all supernatural creatures are a fan of each other, and with the destruction that werewolves have a history of causing, banshees can't be that fond of them. And especially with everything that's happened to Lydia.

But then her smile grows and she says, "I'm glad to finally meet you! And, please, call me Lorraine. This is my wife, Maddy."

"So, this is the little wolf that got your heart, huh?" Maddy jokes to Lydia, an arm around her shoulders.

Lydia looks at Scott. She bites her bottom lip through her smile, and her eyes are saying everything.

She nods and softly says, "Yeah. He is."

"Then you're more than welcome here," Lorraine says.

Relief starts to lift the weight off of Scott's shoulders and chest. The warm, welcoming atmosphere is hard to resist, and he's already feeling at home.

Lydia was right. The hot chocolate is one of the best things he's ever had. Creamy and overflowing with marshmallows with a candy cane to stir it around. Not to mention the plate of cookies. He has never had a gingerbread man that tastes this good.

It's already dark outside, the sun having set an hour or two after they arrived. They already changed into warmer, more comfortable clothes, and settled in front of the fireplace in the living room to get rid of the chill from the snow. Lorraine and Maddy insisted. Didn't want them getting sick, and ignoring their protests about not being able to actually get sick.

"Your cousins don't look like they're having a good time," Scott comments quietly, watching the half-asleep couple sitting in the corner.

"They have five kids, all under the age of ten," Lydia replies. "I think the only thing they can feel right now is exhausted."

Scott snorts. He looks around the room. He's met nearly everyone on this side of the family by now. Every cousin, second cousin, aunts, uncles. The kids that Lorraine and Maddy took in have been especially eager to meet him.

His attention is drawn back to the little boy sitting cross-legged in front of him. He's only nine.

Scott wasn't expecting it when Lorraine and Maddy told him that around ten years ago, another banshee had found them. She was only nineteen and had no one and no idea what was going on with her. They took her in, Lorraine helped her. And from then, it's like their home was its own supernatural beacon, but for kids who had nowhere else to go.

Sean, the little boy currently sneaking another gingerbread man from the plate, is a werewolf. His family, his pack, were hunted down when he was four. Lorraine felt it coming. She and Maddy found Sean.

There's a little yelp and Sean clutches his hand. Scott catches a glimpse of tiny claws where nails should be.

"Can I…?" he asks, holding out a hand.

Sean hesitates, but he glances at Lydia, who smiles and nods encouragingly, then back at Scott. He slowly gives him his hand, palm up.

"I don't know how to control it…" Sean mutters, looking down sheepishly.

Scott inspects where the small trickle of blood is coming from. Three little lines where his claws accidentally caught his skin in passing.

Shaking his head, Scott speaks gently, and draws on the pain in Sean's hand. "It's okay. You're still learning."

"Yeah, it's actually harder for born wolves," Lydia chimes in, nodding convincingly when Sean lifts his eyes to her with curiosity. "You'd think it was the other way around, but one of our friends—he was born a werewolf."

"And he didn't learn until he was sixteen," Scott tells him. "It just takes time."

"And knowing what keeps you grounded," Lydia adds. "Your anchor."

Sean looks at Scott. "Do you have an anchor?"

Scott nods. "I do. I had to learn to let me be my own anchor, but when that doesn't work for me, I focus on all the people I love. My mom, my best friend, my pack."

He glances at Lydia only to find her already gazing at him with the softest smile, her cheek leaning against her shoulder. She places a kiss to his shoulder, her hand resting on her arm for a second.

"You just need to find something that makes you feel more in control," Scott finishes, turning back to Sean. "Even if it's an emotion."

Sean nods slowly. His expression is one of deep thought, trying to work to figure out what his own anchor could be.

"Now, you should go clean this up," Scott says. "Just run it under warm water with some soap, okay? It might sting a little, but just ask Lorraine or Maddy if they have any antibiotic cream, and then put a bandage on it."

"Are you a doctor?" Sean asks.

"No," Scott can't help but grin as he says, "I'm just a vet."

That answer only seems to confuse Sean. But he gets up and hurries off to go do what Scott instructed.

When Scott turns back, Lydia's still watching him. She has this look on her face, a thoughtful glaze in her eyes and a certain kind of smile that he can't read.

Chuckling, Scott asks, "What is it?"

She lets a beat pass. She shakes her head, takes a slow breath in, then looks over at the window instead.

"It's still snowing. Do you wanna sit in the garden? There's a nice bench out back."

Scott's eyebrows furrow a little, but he stands with her, following her to the back door from the kitchen. Stepping outside is like what he'd imagine stepping into a walk-in freezer would feel like.

But the cold biting at his skin is unimportant. The awe hits him all over again as he takes in the sight of the garden, feeling like he just stepped into a fairytale instead. Everywhere he looks, everything is white and sparkling. From the entire ground, to the gazebo at the end of the garden.

Somehow, in amidst it all, there are flowers. Whole roses and everything, snow dusting across their dark red petals.

"This is…" Scott breathes out, his eyes wide, "... I don't even know what this is. This place doesn't feel real."

Lydia laughs gently. She wraps her arms around her and nods, looking around as the snow falls around them.

"Yeah, it does feel kind of… magical."

"We could actually make a snowman," Scott continues. "Or have a real snowball fight. Are snow angels things that people actually do?"

Lydia's eyebrows are raised when he looks back at her, and she's shaking her head. But she's got a smile that stretches to the corners of her eyes and he can feel emotions radiating off of her.

"You are so dorky." She moves closer, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. "And I love you."

Scott smiles. His voice is soft and giving away all of the fondness he feels for her when he says, "And I love you."

She leans in, her head tilting. Her lips are soft against his. He pulls her a little closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. The cold and even the snow is easier to ignore.

Lydia pulls back, her hands lingering on his shoulders. Scott doesn't let go at all.

"I'm really glad you're here with me," Lydia tells him. "And my whole family now loves you, so that's a nice bonus. I think you even made a friend."

Scott grins, shrugging. "Your family is great, and I am… beyond relieved that they like me. And, I think with Sean, it's a werewolf thing."

"Oh, no." Lydia shakes her head firmly. "Maybe that's a small part of it, the whole Alpha thing and all, but all of the kids in there love you."

They pull apart. Lydia sits down on the bench. Scott follows, and can't help but start piling the snow from the arm of the bench into a ball in his hand.

"You were amazing with Sean," Lydia comments, glancing at him. She's doing the same thing with the snow on her side.

Scott shrugs again. "I just told him the same as I told Liam. And Alec. It's how I wish I could have been introduced to all of this. With someone reassuring me that it would be okay."

Lydia nods in a shared understanding. Neither of their starts in the supernatural word were exactly pleasant or comforting. Scott's only sorry that Lydia was brought into it the way she was.

She rests a hand on top of his, curling her fingers beneath his palm. She squeezes gently.

He knows that she can tell what he's thinking. Sometimes he worries that banshees have the ability to read minds as well. But the look she gives him and her hand there with his draws his thoughts away from the past. Everything is okay. It's better than okay.

"It's amazing what your gran and nana have done, though," Scott says. "Taking in supernatural kids who have nowhere else to go."

"Yeah, it's like a little foster home, but… for werewolves, banshees, and everything else," Lydia jokes, but her smile is sincere. "It's a really good thing they're doing. The kids are so happy here."

"I can see why," Scott says, gazing back out across the garden. The snow has the sky practically glowing, in no way looking like it's dark enough to be night.

There's a slight pressure against his hand from Lydia's fingers, moving slowly.

"Do you… do you think that's something you'd ever want to do?" Lydia asks, careful with her words.

Scott looks back at her. She's watching him again, with curious eyes. His heart drops many beats.

"Wait, are you—?" he starts to ask, but Lydia's eyes widen and she quickly shakes her head.

"No!" she hastens to answer. "No, I'm not! I just meant… you know, in general, is it—is it something that you can see for the future? Not necessarily the foster home part, but… you know."

She chews her bottom lip. Scott takes it in, letting the question process. After a moment, a smile curves the corners of his mouth up.

"Imagine, the first werewolf-banshee hybrid," he says.

"That can't have been done before," Lydia agrees, a laugh to her voice. "I wonder if one side would skip them, or if we'd be creating a whole new species."

Scott actually does laugh now, and Lydia joins him. His stomach is buzzing with butterflies or bees, he can't tell.

When they both go quiet, Scott slowly nods. He lifts his eyes to meet Lydia's.

"I like the sound of that," he says softly. "Whether it be a werewolf-banshee hybrid, or even an orphaned werewolf with nobody else… yeah. It's something I see for the future."

Lydia takes in a deep breath. She presses her lips together as her smile threatens to take over her entire face. She just nods, and breathes out slowly.

"Good to know," she says. "I do too, for the record."

"Okay, that's great," Scott says, grinning from ear to ear.

Lydia hums in agreement. Then the ball of snow that she'd been forming hits him square in the chest.

It's safe to say that it is freezing. The snow instantly seeps through his Christmas jumper, melting into his skin. He gasps while Lydia laughs behind her hands, hee eyes wide.

"You said you wanted a snowball fight…" she reminds him.

Scott nods. "You're absolutely right. I did."

The ball of snow in his own hand hits Lydia. She gasps, snow sticking to her jumper as well now.

"Oh my god, so cold!" she exclaims. "Why is that so cold?!"

"Because it's real snow," Scott says, his excitement quickly returning.

Lydia looks at him, her eyes narrowing. A familiar, competitive smirk forms on both their faces.

"Game on," she says.

Next second, they're trying to dodge out of the other's way, snowballs flying across the garden. There are gasps and shouts and laughter when they successfully land a shot.

Maybe it's a little unfair that Scott taps into his heightened abilities to move faster. But the advantage doesn't stop Lydia from managing to sneak up on him and tackle him into the snow. It's so deep that they sink a few inches into it, laughing until their sides and faces ache, and neither of them actually win, both claiming they did. But they end up just lying there in the freezing snow, curled into each other, staring up at the night sky.

#teen wolf #twedit #twrarepair #scydia #mcmartin #scott mccall #lydia martin #scott x lydia #lydia x scott #twelve days of rarepairs #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedits*#wonderdoves #OKAY SO I LOVED WRITING THIS #you really let me just go for it with that prompt damn I love that thank you #and scott and lydia are like one of my favourite otps for teen wolf so once again THANK YOU so much for allowing to let them be soft #hope that you enjoy!!#also if any rarepairs are late at all over the next twelve days... no they aren't you can't see that

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dorminchu · 4 years ago

Text

ALL THESE THINGS THAT I'VE DONE

The war against Paradis is over. Eren and Annie are forced to confront their mortality in a world that seems to have no need of them, and their significance to each other. [Post-Canon]

I didn't know there was an ereani week this year until a couple days ago, but I figured: cool, I should probably post something. Title comes from the track of the same name by The Killers.

The prompt is: Day 3 (4/12): "I love you" / "I loved you"

[Ao3 | FFNet]

When the war was over, it was Armin who took the glory. That was a new look for him, Eren thought. Smart but eternally overlooked until he inherited the role of the Colossus Titan. Willing to carry the burden of humanity's savior without much complaint, unlike his teenage self who had always been plagued by doubts and fears. Eren wouldn't have thought Armin would be ready to chew the bullet while he quietly slipped into the background—but he was the leader, and Eren had always been accustomed to his status of figurehead.

Their roles had inverted with age.

As part of an overarching deal with Queen Historia, Eren was granted quarters—a cabin ten miles from the border of what had once been Wall Rose—and a modest pension, as long as he held his tongue and did not make any attempt to intercept the negotiations between Paradis and the surrounding countries. Eren put in an application for professor at the local military academy and spent the days trying to record what he could remember of his experiences in Marley.

The cabin had been around since the start of the war. About ten or so miles from the nearest village. Perhaps even before Eren was born, when Paradis was just a penal colony in name and the boundaries on inhabitable territory were less strict. The pipes still worked and there was evidence of an outhouse as well as quarters for a small animal—he wondered if it had been a hunter’s lodge.

After growing up in the back end of Shiganshina for the first nine years of his life and living in barracks and halfway houses for the next ten, it was a lot quieter. He felt oftentimes as if he were on a permanent state of leave, awaiting orders that would never come. There was so much time to fritter away now, without a war on the backburner.

ii.

In a bid to lessen the severity of his scarring, Eren tried growing a beard. He couldn't sprout a full one like Zeke could, just the chin-hairs, an innate reminder of his days in Marley. Most often he kept his hair pulled back in a short ponytail or else cut it short in the warmer seasons, though never as short as it had been in his days of adolescence.

He'd regenerated his leg and other limbs since the ceasefire, regained his motor functions in a week-long, agonsing process that he was sure Hanji would've loved had she been alive to witness it—but a day or so after settling into the cabin the old pain was flaring up again. He had a vivid memory of asking Commander Hanji once, at seventeen, after exhausting his father’s journal, but the only conclusion either of them could come up was phantom pain. Even if he were whole and unmarred, he did not anticipate sleep as any source of relief. Colours in his right eye gradually turned dull and it was getting harder to read even by candlelight, disorienting to walk out into harsh sunlight. Eventually he just began wearing a patch for the sake of simplicity. His other eye was unaffected.

He could still remember Ramzi's face better than most of his dead Scouts and it kept him up at night for hours. His way of life—the Titans, ODM gear—was quickly being phased out, trading blades and canisters for rifles and ammunition. His place among the armistice seemed moot.

Eren thought more often of his father. He did not wish to, explicitly, but the memories of him that popped into his head were usually indecipherable and triggered by stress.

The doctors in Marley would define this as shellshock. Other times they left impressions like the outline of the sun under closed eyelids; warmth, family, agony, guilt that would eat away at him for the rest of his remaining life.

Eren was, at least, confident in the fact that he was nothing like his father. He didn't pretend he was doing anything morally righteous, nor had he allowed himself to be molded into a pariah like Zeke. He had only accomplished what those same men were afraid or unable to do. It was nothing to crow about. He did not blame Zeke for that upbringing. Eren had taken action, knowing he would be hated and feared by his own comrades. He could only leave behind his memories in print, and if by some Godforsaken chance they somehow managed to fall into the hands of a like-minded company—well, perhaps one day he would be understood or misconstrued further. Rotting in the ground he could not defend his truth or bias.

But while he was alive, he could not rest. He knew better than most that all of this was fleeting.

It wasn’t as though he was out of shape with all the walking. He still stuck to drills in the morning to keep himself busy; awaiting orders that would never come. It sounded like something Armin might say. But Armin was content to busy himself with the sons and brothers of deceased bureaucrats; the succeeding generation to the brilliant men and women who'd led them right into the mouths of hell and out again.

Commander Hanji was dead. Commander Irvin had been dead four years now. Captain Levi was on his way to retirement and attempting to get Mikasa to replace him.

After seven years of military service his soldier’s inclinations remained unshakeable. He'd wake up every morning, going through the motions as though he were still a stowaway in Marley. He'd never allowed himself to consider a life beyond the pretext of enlistment and eventual expiration within the Scouting Regiment, much less the seemingly endless war between Paradis and the rest of the world. In the best case he had assumed he would die eventually, of old age or a more unheroic death out in the field. He'd never allowed himself to be ruled by that fear of mortality because he had to eradicate the Titans first—it was a child’s logic that had gotten him through military academy. Yet here he was, nineteen, with four going-on three years left to kill. Annie had three, going-on two. That was the only certainty she'd admitted to him without need for prying.

So Eren had to be sharp for the rest of their sakes. The war on Paradis had ended and brought with it economic turmoil. A mourning period that seemed to extend indefinitely. The next decade of prosperity would not be won in a year, nor three, and it would come on the backs of the losing side and breed the same old resentment, and then inevitably the same slow descent towards outrage and madness and oppression. Always in the back of his mind like the learnt urge to drink, or his inherited memories—he could almost convince himself of his hard-won stability. It was a good enough reason as any to stop answering Mikasa's letters.

iii.

The door opened to reveal the very last person he had ever expected to see again. She was every bit the woman he had seen in Marley and little of the girl in the crystal remained. What could he say to a four-year old crush-turned-heartbreak whose face he could scarcely recall among the hundreds of thousands of other casualties? "You shouldn't have come back."

When he moved to close the door, she stopped him with her heel. "I'm no longer a Warrior, nor a soldier. I have nowhere else to turn. You and I understand each other, so there's no point in bloodshed."

He gauged this, chewing his tongue. "Did someone send you?"

Her shoulders stiffened. "No one you'd know."

"I suppose you were sent here to finish the job for Marley?"

"No." Bluntly, she forced herself into the doorway. "I came here on my own. I just—"

"—all right, it seems like there's been some kind of miscommunication between you and whoever sent you."

"I was told you'd be able to accommodate me."

"I don't need anyone else here."

Annie squinted at him. Her hand was clenched tightly on the doorjamb. "You must get bored living up in the mountains. And you could use another pair of hands if you're not regenerating." Eren said nothing. "Did you carve your eye out again?"

"Goddamn you," he growled, and wrenched the door open.

He let her walk past the threshold. Looked at her once, and then away. "I'll set a place aside for you to sleep," indicating a well-worn sofa, "you can stay as long as you need to until you find somewhere you like."

"I don't know why you're so upset. You could have killed me years ago. You've had every opportunity, and yet—"

"—I've moved on." He said it flatly, almost resigned. "You haven't, obviously."

Annie didn't flinch. "So you're just going to stay here and wait to die?"

"I keep myself busy."

"What do you do?"

"I teach the new cadets over at the Academy. It's about two hours from where we are; nothing special, but they seem eager to learn."

"I see."

He turned finally to face her. "What about you?"

Annie hesitated. "Used to work with the other displaced soldiers up until a few days ago."

"How'd that treat you?"

"It was all right. Why, are you too good for it now, now that you're a war hero?"

Eren ignored the barb. "It's been a while since everything settled down, so I wondered how you would fare."

"What, so you just popped up in this house?"

He scoffed. "Of course not. There was a tribunal, and it was decided to let me live on the condition I'd be kept far away where I wouldn't bother with anyone. I can't say the same for the others."

"You sold them out?"

He chuckled. "I didn't have to say much. They did it to themselves. We shared a common goal at one point but never the same ideology. At the very least, I can say I took no pleasure in what I—"

"—Ackermann gave you an out?"

Eren gauged the sharpness in her tone, the stiffness of her posture. "I didn't ask her to." He frowned. "You never told me how you got here. Did Mikasa have something to do with this?"

Annie froze, then averted her eyes. "I didn't have much of a choice. It was either come here or work myself to death doing manual labor. I wouldn't have minded that."

"Why didn't you tell me that she sent you?"

"I don't know. She seemed to pity you."

"Oi, it's not your fault. She can feel however she wants." He sounded bemused, scowling. "What the hell else she she think I'm going to do in four years? I have no plans to start another war."

Annie finally eyed him in her peripherals. "We didn't talk much other than that."

Within the next few hours he'd gotten a few more details out of her. In exchange for agreeing to be quartered here, her record was wiped clean. She had recently reapplied for the MP brigade under a new name and secured a position as secretary in the Karanese district headquarters. She had also admitted to him that she was dying to get back onto the streets again.

As a bedfellow Annie was, in some ways, more than he could've hoped for. Despite the introduction, she talked far less than they had as cadets. She did not seem particularly happy or unhappy, just neutral. She woke up each morning at six hours and left to do her drills. She would come back in an hour and offer to help him with whatever menial tasks needed doing, as if they really were holed up together in the remnants of a cabin lost ten years ago to a threat that would live on in sordid, haunting memory. The kind of life one would find beyond the realm of a weathered photograph.

Unobtrusive without becoming idyllic. The best outcome he could afford her was three years of uneventful domesticity.

They didn't spar anymore. Not for lack of want, or kicking the habit. Eren just couldn't keep up with her the way he used to. His leg was shaky and she pointed it out first. It would have an impact on the kind of punishment he could take as opposed to when he was fifteen and shrugged off every injury like it was nothing. His eye was not healing.

Annie was in better condition. Just by studying her gait it was obvious that she'd taken better care of herself. She had not had to bunk up with a gang of stinking, vulnerable soldiers riddled by shellshock. Trying to communicate with them in German worked, but it got him a lot of funny looks and no end of comparisons to fathers and grandfathers enlisted or long since dead.

Annie wasn't interested in his stories from Marley but she didn't brush him off either. She just tolerated it in a much more polite way than Mikasa or Armin would.

At twenty years old she came up to his chest. Either the crystallization had stunted her growth or she was naturally short. She was also scarred enough down her face but it was of the same sheer consistency as her hair. You would only know what she was if you were paying close attention.

She got skittish and temperamental if he tried to push his luck training with her. Initially it had pissed him off:

"What do you think I'm going to do?"

She'd looked at him bluntly. "You're still recovering. Why overexert yourself?"

He'd never told her about his injuries but the idea of her picking up on it this quickly rankled for reasons he did not care to discuss. "I'm not a kid."

Something flashed in her eyes. "I'm not going to push you."

And that was the end of it. He'd decided that this ritual mattered more to her than him, and respected her space. He still did his own drills.

But every time they locked eyes now he'd get that same, absurd itch in the back of his mind from a year ago. Sharpened his tongue and made him want to speak in ways he didn't think he should attempt to justify whilst sober.

iv.

Days passed. He did not always see her until late in the evening.

In the middle of the night he rolled over onto his bad leg and the pain woke him. In silence he got up, not enough to require medication but still pretty uncomfortable.

“Eren?”

He went still. Annie was up herself, over by the window, staring at him as though he were on his deathbed. In the low light her eyes looked strange and luminous. “Does it hurt?”

“Does—what?”

“Your leg.”

Eren sat up slowly as not to aggravate his condition. She didn't say anything else. “It’s not so bad that I can’t sleep.” He studied her face for signs of age, finding naught but scars, a weariness in her eyes he could speak to. She didn't frown. She just watched him coolly. Eren shrugged. “You can’t sleep either?" No answer. "Thinking about to-morrow?”

“I can get you something for it.”

Eren shook his head. “That's not necessary."

"Don't be stupid."

"This isn't something I can just take pills for.”

"It's chronic." Her tone pregnant with incredulity. "Why haven't you seen a doctor for this?"

"Annie, what the hell is a regular doctor gonna do for either of us? We already fix ourselves. There are other veterans that have been stranded here, they aren't growing their limbs back. They need all the help they can get. Anyway, it's only, what, three more years of living? I can take three. Fuck, I've taken ten."

The more he kept talking, the darker her eyes became. Clench in her jaw, tautness of her shoulders, pronounced enough to notice from a distance—an involuntary reflection of his own revulsion.

"I don't know how you managed to win one war, let alone, if you can't even prevent yourself from running into the ground." Her voice was icy and distinctly contemptuous. She stalked over to him. Cold fingers dug into the meat of his naked shoulder, pushed him upright between the wall and headboard; tight, controlled movements. "Four years later and you still want to pretend you're a fucking martyr. It might've worked on Mikasa, but I'm not your sister. I'm not going to help you hurt yourself."

She kneaded at his leg in a much brusquer way than the way the orderlies in Marley. Eren didn't argue. She was not going to take no for an answer. When it was done she coaxed him to lie down again. He stiffened as he felt her weight join his on the mattress, curled almost tentatively against his chest. She didn’t try to hold him, just huddled as though for warmth. She did not explain herself.

Eren had a vague recollection of the last time this had happened. Back then she came up to his chin, rather than the middle of his chest; their disparity was only thrown into relief. He could feel the human warmth of her through the thin undershirt, the softness of her hair on his cheek. He’d dreamt about this a lot when he was sixteen, while the tragedy of her betrayal was no longer fresh but still painful in his mind. He had no energy left to hate her then, for she was not his enemy.

He heard her breathing even out.

She had stayed this long. There was no sense in abandoning her now.

Sometime after that, Eren started noticing her in more tangible ways. Smell of her hair. The subtle glint in her eyes in lieu of a smile. She'd wait up for him in the mornings before he left. He'd tell her good-bye.

When he came home he’d catch her eyes lingering on him in profile.

Just one day too many of the same quiet inactivity. The fact that they had slept in the same bed was just a catalyst of how familiar they were with each other already.

She woke up an hour later than usual and, fuming, went out to train. A light rain had started. Eren made breakfast. Over the next twenty minutes the light sheet became much more torrential. Annie came back in about half-an-hour, dripping water all over the floor. He would've told her off but she grabbed his wrist. He turned as she leant up and took his face in her hands and kissed him like her life depended on it.

Maybe the situation had always been building to this. He had forgotten about its immediacy until the moment presented itself. But now there was nothing left to say. So he gathered her up and placed her on the counter, kissing her breathless, bunching up her threadbare shirt, palming her tits through the military-issue brassiere—he muttered, "see, I thought you were just being nice," and she scoffed, set her heel to the small of his back even as he put his mouth on her. She was chilled from the rain; it was not yet summer. Half-dressed and needy, he took her right there on the countertop. Afterwards, there was no shame or lingering uncertainty that would have been present as cadets. She pressed her cheek to his.

"I'm going to be away for a while. It's higher pay if I stay in Karanese. Maybe two or three weeks." She looked up at him. Her eyes were bright but her tone was stoic. "I just…" She trailed off because he was only looking at her face. Eren smoothed her damp hair away from her cheek.

"I love you." Then he stopped. Like he was finally coming to grips with the idea. Annie blinked rapidly. A crease formed in her brow. Her mouth worked but no sound came out. Eren kissed her chin. "But, if you're gonna be trackin' mud everywhere you'd best clean it up after yourself."

She finally came back to herself. Shoved him lightly in the chest. "Fuck off." Then hoisted herself off the counter, fixed her trousers, and asked in a dry voice where he kept the washbasin.

vi.

On his own the cabin felt distinctly empty. Sometimes he'd wake up hard and just—take care of it. Annie on top of him. On her knees. Pulling him up to her. He missed her a lot more than he'd care to admit to her face and it wasn't just in the sense that she was available. She'd probably just smirk at him anyway.

But when she returned it was nice to have her around, even for a little while. She kept to herself and he gave her space; it was as though she had never left.

It was still morning. He was working when he felt her come up behind him, hands slipping over his wrists. “Oi,” he muttered, “I’m a little busy.”

“You’re just sitting there.”

He scoffed. “Really? How would you know what I’m doin’?” No answer. Eren closed the book. “You really are demanding, ain’t you?” Faux-annoyance. But he turned.

She looked prettier in uniform. Hair pulled back into less of a bun, more of a severe ponytail. She was looking him up and down as though deciding something for herself.

She leant down, kissed him firmly, nipping at his lip until went with it, half-amused. She stepped back, breathing evenly, eyes glinting. She cupped his face, a vestige of tenderness he did not anticipate.

Then her eyes shifted, something empty, strange. A harsh crack against his jaw he could not anticipate and he took it, worked his jaw, blinking rapidly. “What the hell are you—?”

Annie jerked her head back slightly, fixing him with the same expectance he realised he’d completely misinterpreted. “Hit me.”

Eren didn’t move. Her jaw trembled, then set. He caught her wrist. “That’s enough.”

“Why?” She sounded annoyed. “It’s all right. I can take it.”

“What is this?”

“I’ll be dead before you anyway, it would be easier just to take—”

“—I said that’s enough,” he said, terse. “I’m not going to do anything to you."

Her brow furrowed. "I thought you understood.”

Eren just stared, fighting to keep himself calm when he wanted to grab her shoulders and demand her to justify why the hell she wanted to be hit. "What am I supposed to understand?"

Annie’s eyes darted over his face and then to his wrist. “I want you to hit me back.”

“I’m not going to do that.” He cupped her jaw and she almost flinched; his stomach twisted. “Do you understand me?“

Silence built up between them. "I know you’d stop if I asked you to.”

“I’m not going to wait until after I’ve hurt you to stop.”

Annie pressed her face into his chest. He took her by the shoulders, watching her stiffen.

“Do you hear me?”

She nodded.

"Why d'you want me to hit you?"

"Do you want a list?" He gripped her tight enough to make her flinch and immediately regretted the look of fear that came across her face. He let go of her. "I’ve been complicit in the death of your comrades.�� Her voice thickened. “And I’ve taught you everything I know. You don't need me here for anything other than your own gratification.” Returning to the facade of impassivity with unnerving ease. “So, there’s no point in comparing our tallies.”

“Annie—"

“Are you stupid?” Annie spat, the most emotion she had exhibited thus far. “You've taken my country and my life and my father and you—now you want me to love you back. You want to marry me as if we're ever going to—I'm the one who killed your friends, why would you ever want to be reminded of—"

"You love me." She looked helpless in her vulnerability. "What? What's the matter?"

"Why would you want me? I—I can't even have children. I'm going to die in four years. I'm going to watch you die unless I kill myself fir—"

"—Annie—"

"—you could fuck anyone you wanted!" she exploded. "Why does it have to be me?"

"Because you don’t have to earn anything from me! I just want to be around you—can’t you accept that?”

Annie kissed him hard. He trembled though he was holding her.

“Take me to bed." Eren opened his mouth and she kissed his chin. “I want you to take me to bed. I—”

Even then, he was hesitant to touch her. She led the way, stripping down to skin and splaying on his bed. He caressed her when she asked him to, a gentleness in his hands that betrayed his own sympathy; for once she didn’t chastise him.

Her scarring was far more pronounced in the light. He'd noticed before, briefly on the counter and more clearly with enough attention, but not like this. It clustered around her sternum and down her spine. He wondered, briefly, if that was why she'd wanted to do it quickly. Now her eyes were bright and shimmering but she took him into her, reached for him.

"Is this OK?" His voice was a croak.

Her eyes flickered to him. Cautious, sure. "Yeah."

He was on his knees, lifting the small of her back, working her towards a much sweeter surrender. He slid one arm around her waist to support her and touched her breasts, the side of her neck, cupping her jaw. His thumb ran over her scarring.

“Annie.” She gasped at the sound of her name. “Ann. Look. Come here.” She was biting her lip. Head fallen back, her hair was almost diaphanous in the light. He murmured her name and she was shivering with emotion. She turned into her elbow and told him in an unsteady voice to go faster, and the bed creaked to match him.

Her body arched, jaw slack. She wouldn't stop shivering. Her voice did not rise in expectation. It just wavered, edgeless.

He took her wrist away from her face and—she flinched. This serrated, ugly, sound that jerked out of her body. He pulled out, holding her. “Look at me,” his voice hoarse and horrified, “please.”

Annie curled up against his chest and shook. Eren just kept apologizing. She didn't push him away.

Eventually she stopped. Raised her head. Their eyes met and she lost composure again. He brushed her hair from her face. “Stay,” she croaked, “please. I need you.”

He kissed her brow. She almost flinched. He tucked his chin into her shoulder, arms around her back, until she’d calmed down.

"You don't have to do anything," he said quietly. "Do you understand that?"

"I know."

Laying prone, she only came up to his sternum. Annie sat up first. She got to her feet and went over to the window. Her shoulder was parallel to the glass. His attention stayed firmly on her profile. “You’re gonna get colder than hell. Come back here.”

She turned and glanced at his forearm curled half-surreptitiously against his stomach. Scar tissue along her breasts was prominent. In the dead light of this cloudy, April afternoon she finally looked her age.

There was a naked uncertainty in her eyes that made him freeze. "You're not my father and you never will be. You've been kinder towards me than I deserve, given the circumstances. I wish I could despise you."

Eren rolled his shoulders. The silence held for a while. "I don't know if what either of us have done can be forgiven. But, as long as you’re here, I want you to know that I don't hate you." All she did was stare, a slight crease in her brow. “I never could.”

“You love me,” she said. Not with scorn. Like she was testing the idea in a way they would have shied away from as kids. She averted her face towards the window.

She watched him get up and tensed. He limped towards her in a couple strides and draped the blanket around her shoulders with the same tentativeness. She did not put her arms around him. She pressed her face into his shoulder. His arm came around her back and she closed her eyes, just existing in the cold slats of wood against her feet and the rise and fall of his breast.

He put the blankets around her and laid beside her.

He’d always supposed he would heal with enough rest. He didn't know how to put what he felt into words, but eloquence had never been his forte. It was not unlike laying on your deathbed, mulling over all the things that hardly seemed to matter until there was no time left to spare.

There was no pain now, just certainty in the presence of another—the old urge to drink was absent.

This is a cleaned-up version of a couple tumblr WIPs + some old/new material blended in for fun. Think of it as a pilot episode for a much larger fic.

For what it's worth I did like the ending of AoT. Elements of that ending will likely factor into the aforementioned larger fic. I am totally disinterested in arguing about ships or wasted potential—at this point, I’d rather write whatever seems interesting, and leave it at that, canon or not.

And hey, if you think acknowledging canon will override my crippling addiction to the "morally challenged antihero/problematic blonde" dynamic… I really don't see that happening. Even after exiting this fandom, it's like, ALL I've been writing for a year (looking at YOU Insult to Injury) and I feel like I'm going insane. Back on topic though: Now that AoT has concluded, I find I am far less stressed at the prospect for writing for this series again. It won’t be my main focus, but I do like this fic’s concept enough to flesh it out.

#ereaniweek2021 #ereannieweek2021 #eren jaeger #annie leonhardt #ereani #ereannie #snk #aot #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #apologies for any disparity between canon #I'm a bit behind but I have the jist of what happens #fanfic #fanfiction

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itsadamcole · 4 years ago

Text

christmas lights - pt. 4

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

Drew begins to make up for the six weeks him and reader were separated by making a nice romantic dinner on Valentine's Day, which leads to some serious conversations and rekindling their marriage ...

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: mentions of cheating, slight drinking, loads of fluff, smut (because it's time that we have nice things in this mini-series)

— part 4. enjoy loves —

masterlist || request an imagine here

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

Drew's POV

"Sheamus, I need t'know what t'make Y/N for Valentine's Day," I say as I drive to the grocery store. "I wanna make a perfect dinner."

Sheamus' voice comes over the BlueTooth in my car as he says, "Bro, pasta dishes work every time. What kind of pasta dish does Y/N like?"

She likes lasagna but she also likes ravioli dishes. I could never go wrong with spaghetti because everyone loves spaghetti, plus there's always that chance at a Lady and the Tramp moment with the pasta.

I say, "I don't fucking know, dude. I know she likes a lot of different pasta dishes. Maybe I should just make peanut butter and jelly or something."

"Don't ya dare," Sheamus warns. "Y/N would get so mad."

She's at work all day and I asked for today off from work. It's literally eight in the morning and I have until four to get everything ready.

I pull into the parking lot at the grocery store as I say, "Lemme call Candice. I'm sure she knows."

"Good luck," Sheamus says before hanging up.

Then I dial Candice LeRae's number. It rings a few times before she says, "Drew, it's eight in the morning. What could you possibly want?"

I ask, "Yer Y/N's best friend. What's her favorite pasta dish?"

Candice is quiet before she says, "Lasanga casserole. Meat sauce. She loves that. Can I go back to sleep?"

"Yeah," I say. "Sorry fer waking ya."

The line goes dead and I go into the grocery store after looking up a recipe for lasagna casserole.

My goal for tonight is to reignite the flame that is mine and Y/N's marriage. We've been sleeping in separate rooms, and we've been good about it. I've only joined her in her bed once because it was storming out and she wanted me to stay with her. Other than that, we've been obeying the boundaries we set.

Separate bedrooms at night, no sex, no touching of the private parts, and no sexting when I'm away. It helps that I've been away for wrestling for most of the three weeks since we cleared the air so the separate bedrooms, no sex, and no touchy touches were easy. The no sexting, not so much. I came home yesterday to spend Valentine's Day with Y/N so maybe there can be some touchy touches tonight since I'm making dinner and it's a romantic day.

Y/N has no idea of what I have planned. Her presents will be waiting in the living room for her when she walks into the house after work. A large, life-sized teddy bear sprayed with my cologne will sit on the couch with flowers and chocolates on his lap. The house will be lit with candles.

Then we'll enjoy a candlelit dinner and dessert. The dinner will be made by me. The dessert is a cake that I ordered the other day that's sitting in the back of the refrigerator, hidden away from Y/N. We'll probably watch some cheesy romance movie since it's Valentine's Day.

I can only hope everything goes to plan, as long as I find where the damn ricotta cheese is in this store.

***

Your POV

You mope around the office all day. You'd much rather be at home with your husband than here at work. The past three weeks have gone by quickly, and you miss Drew.

He seemed okay with you coming into work today, but you requested to leave at four so you can at least be home for dinner by five. You'll probably end up ordering takeout honestly. You don't have anything big planned for tonight except ice cream and a movie.

Drew texted you a 'good morning' and 'Happy Valentine's Day' this morning around ten in the morning when he probably woke up. It made you happy and motivated you to get through the day.

The day goes by slow. A minute feels like an hour and an hour feels like an eternity as you write out this six-page report on the last meeting you had.

As soon as four hits, you say goodbye to your co-workers and grab your jacket before leaving.

It's a warm day in Florida today as you walk down to your car in the parking garage. You text Drew to say that you're on your way home before you pull out of the parking garage.

You drive home, and it's about 4:30 when you get there. Florida traffic is terrible during rush hour and you had to take the long way home instead of the quick five-minute drive because of traffic.

Drew's car hasn't moved in the driveway since you left at six this morning. You get out of your own car and walk inside. You hang your car keys up on the hook and take your jacket off. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room with a sigh.

You freeze where you stand when you see what's sitting on the couch when you walk into the room. On the couch sits a teddy bear, flowers, and chocolates. You smile widely at the sight before walking over.

There's a note on the couch next to the teddy bear that's folded with your name on it. You giggle and unfold it, reading it to yourself.

Happy Valentine's Day, my love. If the house is still standing when you see this then come check the dining room.

Smiling, you walk into the dining room. Candles light the room and Drew dressed up in a suit stands beside the food filled table. Lasagna casserole with meat sauce, a bowl of meatballs and sauce, and breadsticks sit on the table. There's a bucket with champagne and ice next to the food. The candles are in the middle of the table and all the food.

You gasp and say, "Drew! This is amazing! I feel so underdressed for this dinner."

Your husband greets you with a forehead kiss before he says, "There's time for ya t'get changed if ya want. I just took the food out of the oven so it'll still be warm when ya come back down."

Giggling, you say, "I need five minutes to change then I'll be right back."

"Take yer time, love," Drew says, a smile on his lips.

You quickly run up the stairs. You certainly weren't expecting Drew to go all out today, not after the last few months. He did, though, and it's making you fall more in love with the Scotsman.

Quickly, you strip out of your drab office clothes and get into the white dress you wore on your first date with Finn, almost nine years ago.

The top of the dress is lacy with thin spaghetti straps. The v-neck dips low but doesn't reveal a lot. The skirt is ruffled and has two layers, one short and the second layer reaches about halfway down your thighs. You wear a pair of silver heels to go with the dress. The heels are a light silver color. You brush out your naturally waving hair and walk downstairs.

Drew's face immediately lights up with a smile when he sees you. "Wow," he says. "Still as beautiful as ya were on our first date."

As he pulls out your chair, you say, "So you did remember that I wore this dress on our first date."

"How could I not?" he asks, pushing your chair in when you're sitting in it. "Ya were stunning and I was extremely nervous."

Laughing, you help yourself to some lasagna casserole and meatballs. You grab a breadstick.

Drew takes his serving as he says, "So, I physically made the lasagna casserole and meatballs. I bought the breadsticks as well as the cake that's in the fridge."

"There's a cake in the fridge?" you ask, looking up at Drew.

He smiles and says, "Uh, surprise? I wanted t'go all out today. I know how much ya love Valentine's Day and I definitely wanted t'make sure today was yer day."

You smile and take a bite of the lasagna. "Well, thank you, Drew," you say. "This is amazing and I don't think I deserve it."

Your husband says, "Ya deserve it, Y/N. Ya one hundred percent deserve it."

The two of you make small talk as you eat the dinner that Drew made. You ask him how he got all this together today.

"I bought the ingredients today and started making dinner by like nine in the morning," he explains to you. "I texted ya at ten so ya thought I just woke up because that's when I usually wake up. I didn't want ya thinking something was off with me waking up early."

You laugh as you eat the meal Drew prepared.

He asks you how your day at work went.

"Well, Tom had me write a whole report on our meeting about finances the other day," you tell him. "Six pages due before I left. This feels like he's punishing me for calling our indefinitely while we were separated."

Drew frowns and says, "I'm sorry. I know how hard ya work, and that's another reason I went all out for dinner."

The comment makes you smile.

After you're both done eating, Drew puts the leftovers in containers before putting them in the refrigerator. He washes the dishes and you sit at the kitchen island counter, watching him.

He's trying to make up for the six weeks you two were apart. You can tell because Drew McIntyre never cooks or does the dishes.

Drew hums quietly to himself as you watch him do the dishes. Your head is in your hands and you smile at the sight.

"So, what flavor is this cake?" you ask, curious.

Your husband laughs softly and says, "Vanilla and chocolate swirl with buttercream icing. I know that's yer favorite because that was the flavor of our wedding cake."

The fact that he's remembering the slightest details from your first date and from your wedding day makes you so happy. He's incorporating these things into making this Valentine's Day the best one yet, and that's the thing you love most about Drew.

As Drew finishes up doing the dishes, you get up and walk over to him. Slowly, you wrap your arms around his waist from behind him and you look up at him. Even with two-inch heels on, Drew is still about eight inches taller than you.

"Thank you for dinner," you say. "It means so much to me that you did this."

He turns the water off and dries his hands before he turns around in your arms. Drew looks down at you and smiles as he says, "I hope ya enjoyed yer presents in the living room."

You giggle, "I'll definitely be putting that teddy bear to use while you're on the road. As for the flowers and chocolates, thank you."

Your husband pushes your hair out of your face and he says, "Yer welcome, love."

Drew's hand lingers on your cheek a little longer than it probably should but you don't mind. As a matter of fact, you lean into his gentle touch so he knows it's okay.

It's been a while since he's touched you like this and you want to enjoy it.

"How about that cake?" Drew suggests. "I know yer just dying t'dig into that."

You giggle and let Drew go so he can get the cake out. "You definitely know me better than I know myself," you say, watching him take the cake out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter.

Drew cuts a piece for you and a piece for himself before he takes your hand and walks out into the living room. The couch is big enough for you, Drew, and the human-sized teddy bear so the two of you sit beside each other on the couch.

Your husband pulls up Netflix and turns on your favorite romance movie, After. Of course, Drew sits through After We Collided as well. He knows these are your favorite romance movies, and he knows how much you adore Hardin Scott's character. You do have a thing for accents.

Then you put on Drew's favorite romance movie, A Star Is Born. You're both a fan of this movie, and you both sing Shallow extremely off-key.

It's about one in the morning when you're done watching all three movies. The two After movies were about three and a half hours combined then A Star Is Born is just over two hours long, and you started watching the movies at about seven that night.

You're cuddled against Drew as he turns off Netflix. He looks down at you and asks, "Ya tired, love?"

Shaking your head, you say, "Nope. Are you?"

Drew shakes his head and says, "No."

You sigh and take his hand in yours, playing with his fingers. "We could, um, talk," you suggest. "About everything to see what we're both thinking."

Your husband says, "Okay. Tell me what's on yer mind."

Sighing, you meet Drew's eyes as you say, "I, uh, miss falling asleep in your arms and waking up beside you, like when your home and stuff." You continue playing with his fingers.

"Do ya want me back in our bedroom?" Drew asks slowly. "Or even just a few times a week? It doesn't have t'be every night if ya don't want."

Drew looks at you intently before you say, "When you're home, I'd like to sleep in the same bed as you. I feel like three weeks is long enough for you to be in a separate bedroom."

A small smile forms on Drew's lips as he says, "Then I'll sleep in our bed again if that's what ya want."

Nodding, you say, "That's what I want. Is that what you want?"

You don't understand why this is kind of awkward. You're just asking your husband to start sleeping in your shared bed again.

"It's what I want," Drew states. "Since we're on the topic of, uh, the boundaries we talked about. Since we're sleeping in the same bed again, do the no touching and no sex boundaries apply?"

You didn't think about that when you asked Drew to sleep in bed with you again.

Sighing and still playing with Drew's fingers, you say, "If the opportunity to have sex arises then I won't stop it. It's been a while since we've been, um, intimate with each other so I wouldn't mind."

Drew smiles as your face gets a little flustered. You've never been good at talking about sex, and it gets you all hot sometimes, like right now.

He pulls his fingers away from you and you pout. Drew says, "So we're basically saying no more boundaries." It wasn't formed like a question.

"Well I'm not saying we get naked right here on the couch and have sex right now," you say, suppressing a giggle. "But technically, yes. We're saying no more boundaries."

A sigh of relief leaves Drew's lips as he says, "Thank God because sleeping in the guest room is torture knowing ya're just down the hall."

You laugh and look up at Drew. You turn your body so you're facing him more. A smile lights up Drew's face.

He's happy that there aren't boundaries anymore. You never called them rules because rules are always tempting to break, and you wanted to make sure to move slow instead of rushing into your relationship like it was before Christmas.

Both of you are quiet before you say, "Thank you for respecting my wishes while we worked on our marriage, Drew. It shows me that you wanted to work on it too."

Drew says, "I woulda moved out if ya told me to. I wanted to do this right." He pushes a stray hair off your cheek. "If fixing our relationship while spending some time apart is what helps us in the end then I'm happy t'do it."

A smile forms on your face as you say, "I love you. Thank you for sticking around even though I've been difficult."

Your husband says, "And I love ya. I would do anything fer ya, Y/N. Ya know this."

"I do know this," you say as you lean your head up a bit, wanting a kiss.

Drew gets what you're trying to say and he slowly leans into you, his lips ghosting over yours lightly. A soft gasp leaves your lips as your heart races in your chest.

While you slept in separate bedrooms and didn't see much of each other, kisses between you and Drew were rare. Every kiss felt like the first kiss you ever had with him. This one especially feels like that.

Your eyes flutter closed as Drew finally presses a soft kiss to your lips. Butterflies form in your stomach as your lips move against Drew's. One of his hands rests on your waist and one of your hands is on the side of his neck.

The kiss slowly becomes more intense as Drew begins to kiss you with more passion. You welcome the passionate kiss as Drew's hand migrates from your waist to your back. He presses you against him as you throw one of your legs over one of his so you're closer to your husband.

In between kisses, Drew asks, "Are ya still not tired?"

You shake your head slightly and say, "No. You?"

"No," he replies. "Wide awake."

This moment has been building for a while. It started almost as he came back home. Now that it's started, you don't want it to stop.

The kiss intensifies more when Drew's tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You part your lips a bit and his tongue finds its way into your mouth. You sigh softly as the kiss turns into a make out session.

Drew's hands are both now on the small of your back as you now cup his face in your hands. Sighs leave both yours and Drew's lips, especially after you crawl onto his lap. You straddle his thighs to make it easier to kiss him.

You pull back, needing a second to breathe. You pant, "We lift all boundaries and now we're making out on the couch."

Your husband laughs and leaves soft kisses all over your face. "Is there something wrong with making out on the couch?" he asks, smiling.

"No," you giggle. "But have you met us? Making out usually turns into something more."

His kisses leave your face and migrate down to your jaw. He mumbles, "Would that be a bad thing though? It's been a long time since we've done anything. At least four months."

You sigh, "We just lifted the boundaries. It would be terrible timing."

Drew smiles as he kisses your neck before he says, "I've missed ya like this, Y/N. I've missed us like this."

It has been a long time since either of you have been intimate with each other.

"I've missed you like this too, Drew," you say, melting under his touch. "And it has been a long time since we've been like this. I don't care how bad the timing is anymore."

Your husband looks up at you and asks, "So, are we having sex tonight?"

Giggling, you say, "As long as we take it upstairs because I don't want to make a mess on the teddy bear."

"Done," is all Drew says before he scoops you up into his arms and takes you upstairs to your shared bedroom. He holds you bridal style in his arms as he walks up the stairs.

You leave kisses on his cheek and neck as he walks with you to the bedroom.

He walks into the bedroom and puts you down at the foot of the bed. You lean up and kiss him passionately. You hook your fingers into the belt loop of his suit pants and pull him against you.

Honestly, you don't hate the idea of having sex with Drew tonight. It's been so long since you have. You miss being intimate with him.

Slowly, you pull off Drew's jacket and let it fall to the floor. He undoes his tie, and all of this as his tongue finds its way into your mouth again. You sigh softly and your fingers begin to unbutton Drew's shirt after you untuck it from his pants.

His hands are on your back, near the zipper of the dress.

You pull his shirt off and it joins the jacket and now the tie on the floor. Drew unzips your dress and you pull the straps off your shoulders. The dress falls to the floor and pools at your feet, leaving you in only your panties.

Your fingers slide down Drew's chest as the kiss continues. You run your fingers down his stomach until they reach the button on his pants.

Both of you kick off your shoes before Drew pushes you onto your back on the bed, breaking the kiss. You move back a bit and watch as he pulls off his suit pants, leaving him in his boxer shorts.

"Ya have no idea how long I've waited just t'see ya and touch ya like this again," Drew tells you as he crawls up to you, kneeling between your legs.

You cup his face in your hands and say, "I've waited just as long as you have, Drew."

He smiles at you as his eyes roam your exposed upper body. You lay on your back and Drew leans down, kissing your chest down to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently as his fingers play with the other. You gasp and sigh, arching your back slightly off the bed. You grasp onto the covers as Drew continues down your body, kissing down your belly until he gets to the waistband of your panties.

Drew looks up at you and asks, "May I?"

You nod, eager. He pulls off the panties you're wearing, and you may or may not be just a tiny bit wet. Hearing Drew talk about how much he's been waiting for this and wanting this has made you a little wet.

He bites his lip before diving in. Your back arches off the bed and you moan, "Drew." Your fingers find their way into his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit.

Your breathing soon becomes labored as Drew kisses and sucks on your core. He slips a finger into you and you moan a little louder.

It's been way too long since you've been with Drew like this, and you don't plan on ever going four months without sex ever again.

Drew's finger moves slowly and your back arches off the mattress. Your eyes are closed as your sense of touch takes over. Drew sucks on your clit and adds a second finger.

"Drew," you moan out. "Baby, please."

He looks up at you and asks, "'Please' what, love?"

You open your eyes and look at your husband as he licks your arousal off his lips. "I need you," you whine. "Please."

Drew pulls his fingers out of you and you let out a little whine. He pulls off his boxers and reaches over onto the bedside table to grab a condom out of the box that's in the drawer.

He's on his knees between your legs as he slides the contents of the tiny silver package he pulled out of the drawer onto himself. You watch as he crawls on top of you. You lean up and kiss Drew softly, pulling him down to you. His chest is pressed to yours and you wrap your legs around Drew's waist.

After a second, Drew pulls back and asks, "Is this what ya really want? I don't want t'continue if this isn't what ya want."

You push Drew's hair behind his ears and say, "I want this Drew. I've wanted this for months. I want this to happen."

A smile forms on Drew's lips as he kisses you again. You feel the tip of his member run through your folds and you sigh softly against his lips. Your hands are in his hair, gripping lightly as Drew begins to slide into you.

Moans pass through your lips into the kiss as Drew's length fills you up. Drew holds himself up above you as he begins to thrust slowly into you. Moans escape your lips as Drew moves.

Drew leaves kisses on your neck as he moves sweetly and passionately.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping and your moans. Drew leaves marks on your neck and his thrusts begin to speed up.

"Oh, Drew," you moan softly. "Don't stop, please."

Your husband smirks against the skin on your neck and moves deeper into you. His tip grazes your g-spot and you cry out in pleasure.

He knows how to make you feel good. It's almost like he hasn't missed a beat since the last time you had sex.

Drew grunts above you as he begins to hit your g-spot over and over again. Your nails are digging into Drew's back as he moves.

Your husband takes one of your hands in his as he moves. He kisses you again.

You don't say anything before you orgasm. You release on Drew's member and he soon follows. Both of you moan each other's names and a bunch of profanities as you both come.

Drew pulls out and rolls off of you, pulling off the condom and tying it off before throwing it out. You crawl under the covers after Drew cleans you both up, a smile on your lips.

He joins you under the covers as you both catch your breath. You look up at your husband and say, "You have a lot to live up to next Valentine's Day."

"I think I already know what I can do," Drew says, leaning in and pecking your lips. You giggle and intertwine your fingers with his as you move onto your side so you're facing him.

Drew moves himself close to you and cups your face, looking at you. Your eyes meet his and you say, "I love you so much."

Your husband says, "I love ya more." A smile forms on his lips as you bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes.

You almost lost this. You almost lost laying in his arms at night when you were feeling upset or just to snuggle after sex. You almost lost him, and you're so glad that you heard him out. You didn't just let him go, because you love him and wanted to work on your relationship.

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fluff #drew mcintyre x reader #wrestling imagine #wrestling fluff #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe smut #imagines #imagine #nswf imagine #smut #fluff imagine #fluff

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nothingbutfangirlsmut · 5 years ago

Text

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader & Sam x Reader

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and some eventual smut once the story reaches that point.

Chapter 5

I followed behind Steve with Natasha behind me. We stepped into some kind of lab. Computers and other equipment was everywhere. Nat had explained the computers to me and even cell phones. Bruce and Tony where each standing in front of screens.

"Bruce, I need you to run some tests." Steve said sternly as he walked over to the man.

Bruce eyed him for a second then glanced over to Nat and I. He took his glasses off setting them on the counter he was standing at.

"What kind of tests?" He asked Steve.

"The same ones ran on me after I was unfrozen but I need you to do it to Willow."

Both Bruce and Tony turned to look at me. They looked intrigued yet skeptical.

"You think she is a super soldier?" Tony asked.

Instead of answering Steve pulled his shirt up to his neck exposing the bruise that was much bigger and darker now.

"That's where she punched me." Steve said letting his shirt fall back down.

"Willow come sit over here please." Bruce said quickly gesturing to a still close to him.

I did as he said and sat down. I watched him grab a few things then turn to me with a needle in his hand. I immediately jumped to my feet. I stepped backwards but ran into a hard chest. I knew immediately it was Steve. He's the only who knows about my fear of needles.

"Willow it's alright he won't hurt you." Steve said softly.

He guided my tense body back to the stool and sat me down. His hands rested on my shoulders. Bruce grabbed my arm to do what he needed to. I turned my head away grinding my teeth together. I've always hated needles. I would do anything to get out of getting a shot or anything else.

I felt the needle break the skin but it didn't hurt like it use to. I glanced down at my arm but regretted it immediately. It may not hurt but the sight of the needle in my skin had me almost throwing up.

"All done" Bruce said turning his back to me.

It looked like he was immediately doing something to it. I stood up grabbing Steve's arm to keep myself balanced. We were all silent for a few minutes as Bruce worked.

"Look at this" he said suddenly.

He moved the images in front of him around until there was two images side by side. They looked almost identical except one was a different color.

"What are we looking at?" Steve asked.

"This is your blood after you were unfrozen." Bruce pointed at one image.

"This is Willow's blood right now." He pointed to the other image.

"So she is like me?" Steve asked him.

Bruce shook his head.

"She is definitely what we would call a super soldier but the difference here is the color of her blood. It's black. Honestly, I'd say it's possible that she is even stronger than you Captain." Bruce explained.

"What? How is that possible?" I asked staring at the images.

"Well, it was a Hydra scientist that did this to me. You were found frozen in an old Hydra base. It seems they did the same thing to you." Steve said.

"But it looks like they made changes in their serum between the time of giving in to Steve to when they gave it to you." Bruce added.

"This is insane. I can't be a super soldier." I said shaking my head.

"To be fair Willow, you don't have any memory after the night you were kidnapped. Who knows what they did to you. They were probably the ones to alter your memory as well." Tony said as he leaned on a counter.

"Nat we need a lot of training. Get the equipment ready and grab Barton. Tony when she's ready we will try something with your suit." Steve ordered like he was back in the military.

Natasha ran out of the room to do what Steve had said. Tony nodded then went back to his work. Bruce stepped over to me.

"Once you get a little training down I'd like to run some more tests if you don't mind." He said timidly.

I nodded then left the room. I needed a minute.

"Willow" Steve called after me.

He stopped me in the middle of the hallway. He grabbed my face turning me to look at him.

"It's alright, this is good we can use you with the team now. We are learning more about what happened to you. Now we just need to find out why it happened." Steve spoke softly.

I don't know how I could deal with any of this insane nonsense if it wasn't for my best friend being here too. Why this happened we may never know but at least we have each other.

"Let's get you some training in." He smiled pulling me to follow him.

Before I knew it a few months had passed. A lot of things had changed. Steve and I moved out of the tower to our own apartment in D.C. as roommates. Clint went back to his family. Natasha was in and out working on different jobs. I spent a lot of time with Steve when neither of us were working. I had been lucky enough to be given a job at S.H.I.E.L.D. along with Steve. I've gotten really good at hand to hand combat thanks to Steve and Nat. It also turns out I am stronger than Steve. Every morning now I go for a run with Steve since I'm the only one who can keep up with him.

This morning there was another jogger taking the same path we were. Steve thought it was funny every time we ran past him. The guy looked completely confused. As we ran and got closer to the guy Steve switched me sides so he would run next to him.

"On your left" he said as we ran past.

I laughed as we kept going.

"On your left" he said again.

"Uh huh, on my left. Got it." The man said as we went past.

When we came closer to him the third time the man started trying to run faster.

"Don't say it. Don't say it!" he panted.

"On your left" Steve said again with a huge grin.

"Come on!" He shouted.

The man stopped and sat at a tree to catch his breath. Steve and I took another lap then decided to go chat with him. He looked wore out and exhausted as he leaned against the tree.

"Need a medic?" Steve asked as we stopped in front of him.

"Looks like it" I laughed.

He laughed and shook his head.

"I need a new set of lungs. You two just ran like 13 miles in 30 minutes." He stated in disbelief.

Steve and I shared a glance.

"Guess we got a late start." Steve grinned.

"No, you did. I just didn't want to make you look bad." I chuckled.

Sam looked between both of us with a shocked expression.

"Really? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap." He said waving his arm.

This was a moment of silence as Steve and I both just looked at him. He turned back to us.

"Did you just take it? I assume you just took it." He said.

I couldn't help but laugh. He was funny and pretty cute. His smile was bright and charming.

"What unit you with?" Steve asked him.

"58th Pararescue. Now I'm working down at the VA."

He lifted his arm up towards Steve.

"Sam Wilson"

Steve grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Steve Rogers"

"I kinda put that together but who are you?" He asked pointing to me.

"Willow Roffe, old friend of his. Same situation." I said simply as I shook his hand.

"Must have freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting." Sam said folding his arms.

"Takes some getting use to." Steve chuckled.

"That's an understatement." I rolled my eyes.

"Nice to meet you Sam." Steve waved then turned to walk away.

I waved at him then went to follow Steve.

"Its your bed right?" Sam asked a little louder.

"What's that?" Steve turned around.

"Your bed, it's too soft. When I was over there I slept on the ground. Used rocks for pillows like a caveman. Now I'm home lying in my bed and like..."

"Like lying on a marshmallow. Feels like I'm gonna sink right to the floor." Steve finished for him.

"How long?" Steve asked.

We both moved to stand back in front of him again.

"Two tours. Must miss the good old days." Sam said with a smile.

"Well, things aren't so bad. Foods a lot better." Steve chuckled.

"Yea, we use to boil everything." I said.

"No polio is good." Steve added.

"Internet" I said.

"Yea, so helpful. Been reading that a lot trying to catch up." Steve said.

Sam looked like he was thinking for a moment.

"Marvin Gaye, 1972, Troubleman soundtrack. Everything you missed jammed into one album." He informed.

Steve pulled out his little book to write down what Sam had just said.

"I'll put it on the list." Steve smiled.

Both mine and Steve's cell phones chimed at the same time. We both looked down to the same text.

"MISSION ALERT. EXTRACTION IMMINENT. MEET AT THE CURB. :)"

"Sam, duty calls" Steve said shaking the mans hand again.

"Thanks for the run if that's what you want to call running." Steve joked.

"Oh, that's how it is?" Sam questioned raising a brow.

"That's how it is." Steve laughed.

"Oh please, you both need some work." I laughed playfully shoving steve.

I grabbed Sam's hand to shake it again.

"It was a pleasure Sam." I smiled.

He pulled my hand slightly raising it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand then let me go.

"You too pretty lady." He smiled then winked at me.

The sound of a loud engine pulling up grabbed our attention. The window rolled down to show Nat behind the wheel. I was already standing next to the car when Nat spoke.

"Hey fellas, either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil." She said with a smirk.

"That's hilarious" Steve mumbled as he walked to the car.

I jumped in behind him while he took the front seat.

"Can't run everywhere." Steve said to Sam.

"No you can't." He chuckled glancing back to me.

---

Masterlist

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #the girl out of time #nick fury #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #sam wilson #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #sam wilson fanfiction

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thesloppiestbitch · 6 years ago

Text

And They Were Roommates - Lucy Boynton x F!Reader P1

A/N: Lucy is my wife and I’m very gay, so enjoy my ramblings about how badly I want to kiss her that I somehow managed to turn into a cheesy fanfic. This is long so buckle up. The word count is listed on my masterlist, for those interested. I don’t know if this needs to be stated or not, but for the purpose of this story and to make it easier for me to write, the reader is a lesbian, simply because it made it easier for me to focus on Lucy than it would’ve had she been bi or pan. I am not trying to belittle those sexualities though! Also, this is a college AU (I guess???), but the boys are still in it (aside from Rami, simply because I couldn’t find a way to fit him in). And I’m Canadian, so I apologize for any inaccuracies or mistakes I make about British colleges. AND I’m splitting this into two parts (read part two here!) just because I hit the spacing limit and I didn’t want to compromise my writing style to make it fit. I tried, and I hated it.

Summary: Being assigned a roommate was the last thing [Name] wanted, but being forced to room with this cute girl couldn’t be all bad, right?

Warning(s): Swearing, alcohol, fluff

"Mum, I'm fine, I can drive myself," You insisted, throwing your final suitcase into the back of your car.

"Nonsense! I can do it; plus, I'd love to fit in some more time before you're gone till Christmas," She cooed, reaching up to pinch your cheek. You swatted her hand away before she could do so, sparking her to frown in frustration.

"I'm nineteen, I can handle myself. Plus, I don't even know if I'll be home for Christmas,"

She only shook her head, taking the keys from your finger where they had been dangling loosely by the key ring. "It's still months away, we can discuss it when it's closer. Just get in, please."

You huffed, finally giving in.

The drive to the college was long, especially since your mother wouldn't let you choose any music. If you'd had your way, or had been driving by yourself like you wanted, the only thing that would've been playing would have been old rock bands, but your mother despised them and you figured it wasn't worth the fight. Once you'd moved into your dorm, you could play all the rock music you wanted.

As your mum pulled out the suitcases and boxes from the trunk and backseat of your small blue car, you went to find the head-office to check where your room was.

When you walked in, you found that it was rather quite. Silently, you thanked whatever may be out there that you got lucky and hit a slow patch as you walked towards the man who looked to be about your age or a year or two older who was holding a clipboard.

You plastered on a smile as he turned to face you. "Hi," You spoke sweetly. "I was wondering who I could talk to about rooming?"

"That would be me," He smiled, speaking with an American accent. "What can I do for you?"

"My name is [Name] [Last Name], and I never got a letter or email or anything saying where my dorm would be. I was just curious if you had it somewhere?"

He glanced down at the papers on the clipboard, lightly lifting one to find your name. "You're in the third building, room twenty-nine, and you're sharing with—"

"I paid extra for a single room," You interrupted, worry flooding your system.

"I'm sorry, [Name], but there must've been a mistake. All rooms here are shared, I can't imagine where you would've paid that extra money to..."

"Great, just great." You muttered. "I'm sorry, I don't want this to seem like I'm taking it out on you, I know it's not your fault, it's just frustrating."

He laughed softly, lowering the board. "It's alright, I understand your frustration."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. "Who am I rooming with?"

"A girl named Lucy,"

You nodded. "Thank you..." You trailed off, hoping he would give you his name. He was a very nice and kind guy whom you'd like to have around more if possible.

"Joe," He smiled again.

"Thank you, Joe. I hope to see you around again,"

"And I you,"

You giggled softly at his odd wording before returning to your car to help your mother.

Hours passed and you were finally set up in a way that would be pleasing for the time being, despite it not being perfect. Your mother was long gone, your dad having picked her up so you could keep your car with you, and you finally had the freedom to play your music. Your stereo was one of the first things you set up, but you didn't turn anything on in case your roommate showed up. You internally hoped she wouldn't show up at all and you'd get your single room.

Just as you flipped on the album Queen II and White Queen began to play, the door to the small space peeked open. Blonde hair fell and became visible before the girl's face did. Your thoughts all immediately stopped as all your focus turned to how beautiful she was, and she wasn't even wearing any makeup.

"Hi," She smiled. "Are you [Name]? I'm worried I may have the wrong room..."

You blinked roughly a few times, trying to draw your attention back enough to form an answer. "Yes, I am. And you must be Lucy," You replied, smiling.

"Oh, thank God," She sighed, seemingly exhausted. "Yes, I am. It's very nice to meet you, [Name]. I hate to be a bother, but would you mind helping me with some of these boxes? My parents has to leave right away so it's just me,"

Suddenly, you were very glad your mum had dropped you off. "Of course!"

After helping Lucy get settled in, you two had began to talk, hoping to get to know each other better. You'd already covered all the basics: where're you from, do you have any siblings, any childhood pets, etc.

"Have you met anyone around campus?" Lucy asked, sitting cross-legged on the end of your bed.

"Just you and a boy who was in charge of rooming. I think his name was Joe? He had red-ish hair and an American accent,"

"Ah, yes! I've met him too. Quite a sweet one, isn't he?"

"Seems to be," You giggled. "Have you met anyone?"

"Not really, just you, Joe, and a few friends from primary school,"

You nodded in acknowledgment.

"They've invited me out tonight, would you care to join us?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude on a reunion,"

"You wouldn't! Come on, come meet them, they'll love you! Maybe we'll run into some cute guys," She winked.

"Yeah," You laughed out. Though guys aren't really what I'm interested in... "Alright, I'll come,"

She smiled, clapping her hands together. "Yay! I can't wait for you to meet them!"

You smiled as well at how happy she was. She barely knew you and already she wanted to introduce you to her friends? That was fast. Though, the two of you did seem to be clicking rather fast as well.

That night, Lucy dragged you out to a pub not far from campus. Her friends seemed to be running a little late, but she didn't let that put a damper on the mood.

The two of you ordered drinks and went to where Lucy said they'd usually meet for drinks.

"Do you go out often with them?" You asked, sipping some fruity drink Lucy had recommended.

She nodded, sipping from her straw. "Gwil and Ben usually drag me out every other weekend. And if it's not them, Allen seems to," She laughed softly to herself.

You nodded.

Just as you were about to say something else, three men joined you two at the table. A tall brunette with a beard sat beside Lucy, pecking her cheek. A shorter brunette sat beside him, greeted Lucy and sat quietly after that. A blonde sat next to you, immediately engaging the tall one in a conversation that seemed to be carrying on from before. You only sat quietly, not wanting to interrupt anything.

After the blonde finished his story with a low laugh, Lucy took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to introduce you.

"Guys," She began, gaining the attention of everyone at the table. "This," She motioned to you. "Is [Name], my roommate and new friend. We've gotten to know each other quite well over the past few hours, and I can easily say, she'll be part of the group in no time,"

The boys all smiled at you before turning back to Lucy.

"It is alright to introduce yourselves, you know," She jokes, sipping from her straw again.

Silence fell over the table before the one with a beard spoke up. "Alright, I suppose I'll go first then, yeah?" He shot a dirty look to the other two, jokingly, of course. "I'm Gwilym, it's very nice to meet you, [Name]," He stuck out his hand for you to shake, which you did.

"And you," You nodded, smiling.

"The other two are Ben," He gestured to the blonde. "And Allen," The shorter brunette.

You gave them both nods and smiles which they returned.

What could've turned into an awkward night quickly turned into one of the best you'd had in years. You immediately clicked with all these people, and, though it may have been the alcohol in your system, you found yourself opening up to them and being more out there than usual, which was rare. Usually, you were very quiet and reserved around new people, but all that went out the window with these new people you were happy to be able to call your friends by the end of the night.

The next morning, you woke up with one hell of a headache. You didn't think you'd had that much to drink, but it didn't help that you'd hardly eaten the day prior and alcohol on an empty stomach doesn't exactly do much to your tolerance level...

You sat up with a groan, dragging your hands through the hair. Suddenly, you were even more grateful that you'd left your mornings open, only electing one class and two in the afternoon. You were also grateful that it didn't take many classes to get your art major.

Lucy sat up in her bed, doing the same as you. Apparently, both of you had gotten a bit carried away with the drinks last night.

"When's your first class?" You mumbled just loud enough for her to hear, but not loud enough to make either headache worse.

"Eleven. You?"

You nodded slightly. "Eleven. What time is it now?"

She glanced at the alarm clock beside her bed. "Eleven thirty."

"Great,"

"Yeah. Good thing most classes don't start till tomorrow. People are still moving in today."

"Thank God," You muttered, laying back down quickly, making your headache worse. "Fuck!"

Lucy laughed softly. "You good?"

"Piss off."

"Awe, I'm glad you already feel close enough to me to tell me to piss off, knowing I'll take it as a joke," She said in a sickeningly sweet voice, attempting to make you laugh.

"Lucy, I swear on any other day I'd find your tone hilarious, but right now, this headache is making me want to die."

"Such a great feeling, isn't it?"

"Oh, just the best. Do you have any Advil?"

"Nope,"

"Wonderful."

The day went on, and, with it, your headache slowly disappeared, as did Lucy's. This led to the two of you trying to decide on an "aesthetic", as Lucy had referred to it, for the dorm.

"I like the idea of using some houseplants to lighten the space," Lucy said, referring back to your original idea.

"And I think you're right, some sheer curtains would definitely help open the place up a bit more," You thought out loud.

A light knock at the door broke your concentration.

"You expecting someone?" You asked her.

She shook her head and shrugged, answering. "Oh, hello, Joe!" She greeted happily, opening the door more to invite him in.

You joined her at the door, smiling at the red-head in front of you. "Hi, Joe,"

"Hey, guys," He responded with a smile. "I'm just going around to make sure everyone found their rooms okay. Seems like you two have, so I'll be on my way. It was nice seeing you two again,"

"You too!" Lucy called after him as he turned away, making his way towards the next room down the hall.

You followed him, stopping him before he could knock on the next door. "What're you studying?"

"Film, why?"

"Does that mean you have to take any art classes? Y'know, because of the claymation and animation and stuff that they cover?"

"Yes, I'm in Art 340, 430, and 460. Why?"

You smiled. "I was hoping to take a few classes with you, and turns out I do. Would you be willing to sit with me for 460?"

He returned your smile and nodded. "I'd like that. Might be nice to sit with someone I already sort of know,"

You nodded. "Agreed. Better than sitting by some weirdo,"

"I don't know you very well yet, [Name], you could be that weirdo,"

The two of you laughed before you let him continue with his work.

When you returned to the dorm, Lucy gave you a telling smile. You rolled your eyes. "What?"

"Do you like him?"

You laughed harder than you should've. "No!"

"Yes you do!"

"Lucy, please believe me when I say I have no interest in any of the boys at school,"

"Well when you put it that way, you make it seem like we're in high school!"

You shook your head, laughing and let the conversation drop.

In class, you were bored out of your mind. The intermediate sculpture class you were in seemed like it would only be covering what you'd already learned in your advanced high school art class, but you needed it to get into advanced sculpture. You sighed, resting your head on your hand as you tried not to doze off to the prof's boring instructions about how to properly knead the clay.

Instead of actually focusing, your mind began to wander, as it so often does. You began to think about how close you'd gotten with Lucy over the past two days. You smiled upon thinking of her and her beautiful blonde hair... her freckles nose... her sweet eyes... her plump, kissable lips.

You say up straight, eyes wide. No, I can't think of her like that! I just met her!

You sighed, deciding it would be better to just focus on the lecture rather than how badly you wanted to take Lucy's face in your hands and gently press your lips against hers...

Goddamit, [Name], control yourself!

A deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth seemed to help you focus again.

But not for long. The girl in front of you had hair the same shade as Lucy's making it impossible for you to stop thinking about her.

It's just a crush, it'll pass! They always do.

But did you really want this one to pass? Or did you want this one to actually go somewhere and lead to a future with the gorgeous blonde in it?

That's a question for another time...

When you arrived back at the dorm that night, you immediately plopped onto your bed. You could hear Lucy giggling at your actions from her bed.

"Long day?"

"You don't know the half of it,"

"You can tell me about it if you want. I've been told I'm a great listener. My advice, on the other hand is a little iffy,"

You smiled, eyes grazing over the ceiling. "Alright. There's this... Person I've met recently and I can't stop thinking about he— them. They're always on my mind, and it's distracting me from my studies. I know it's just a crush, but part of me wonders what a future for us could be like... What should I do?"

She bummed as she thought. "If It were me, I'd just tell him," You winced slightly at the word. "I mean, any guy would be lucky to have you, and if he can't see all your great qualities, you don't need to have him in your life."

You nodded.

"Is it Joe?"

"Lucy!" You sat up, eyes wide in shock at her question.

She giggled. "It's just a question, [Name]!"

"No, it is not Joe!"

She gave you a little bit of side eye. "Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm bloody sure! God!"

She laughed harder this time, glad she was able to poke fun at you like this. "I'm just taking the piss, [Name],"

You flopped back on your bed as she spoke.

"So," She began, shifting in her bed. You could hear the springs squeak. "The boys have invited us for supper tonight. Care to join?"

"Us? They asked for me to come as well?"

"Yes,"

"They asked for me specifically?"

"Yes! What's so hard to believe about that?"

"Never mind. I'd love to,"

"Great! We're leaving in ten,"

You groaned in response, earning another laugh from your roommate.

"So... We were kicked out of the lecture hall today," Ben began sheepishly, pushing some food around his plate with a fork.

"How in the hell did that happen?" Gwilym spoke up, stopping mid-sip of his soda.

"It was Allen's fault!"

"What!" Allen asked in disbelief. "You're the one who decided it would be a good idea to see how many pencils you could fit in the girl ahead of us' hair!"

"I'm sorry, how did that lead to getting kicked out?" You asked through a giggle.

"Well, you see, the thing was—" Ben began.

"It doesn't help that she was the prof's daughter and it really doesn't help that she was originally kicked out for being disruptive because she told Ben to stop rather loud—" Allen cut him off.

"She yelled at me in the middle of a lecture!" He defended. "Not my bloody fault she can't take a damn joke,"

Lucy and you shared a look as you shook your head at their childishness.

Once there was a lull in the conversation, you spoke up, unsure of when you'd have another opportunity. "Thanks for inviting me out again, you guys really didn't have to."

"Nonsense," Gwil spoke. "We really enjoy your company,"

"Plus, you seem to be one of the only people who can keep Ben, here, at bay," Allen added, flinching slightly after speaking. You assumed Ben had kicked him.

"You're definitely someone we want to keep around," Ben commented, completely ignoring Allen's comment.

You felt a small blush rise to your cheeks. "Thanks," You mumbled, looking down. You hadn't expected to be accepted into the group so quickly; if anything, you would've thought they'd invited you along again because they fely the need to befriend Lucy's new friend. But, you were happy with the new reasoning.

"So, [Name], have you got a boyfriend?" Allen asked nonchalantly, cutting his food.

You were a little taken aback by this, but answered anyways. "No, I'm afraid I'm all alone,"

"But she's got a crush on the guy in charge of rooms!" Lucy chimed in.

You lightly kicked her under the table. "I do not!"

"That American?" Ben asked, raising an eyebrow.

You rested your head in your palms, knowing they wouldn't listen to you any more.

"Yes, that's the one!"

The conversation about your non-existent feelings for Joe carried on for a few more moments before the waiter came to the table once more to take away plates and refill drinks. After he left, the conversation seemed to shift again, thankfully.

You wished you could just be more open and tell them the exact reason why you didn't have feelings for Joe, but you couldn't being yourself to do so for fear of the group rejecting you. So, you endured the teasing every time the man walked past or you were seen walking back to the dorms with him after class simply because it was easier.

A month into the school year and you already felt exhausted. Thankfully, it was the weekend, so you wouldn't have to worry about Art History's for a few days. Though, you did have plans to join Joe and help him with a Digital Studio project he was struggling with that you'd done in high school. Seeing as you were the only one he knew in the class, it seemed easier to ask you for help, rather than ask the prof who already didn't like him.

That afternoon, you went to Joe's dorm to help him. Though, you didn't really end up helping very much, as the two of you spent most of the time just talking. You felt oddly close to him, despite only knowing him for a month. It was like the two of you were soulmates, just not in the traditional way.

"So, got your eye on any boys around campus?" Joe asked, working on poorly photoshopping a picture.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that!" You groaned, flopping back on his bed.

"Well, I didn't realize that was such a touchy subject for you,"

"It's just— ugh! Y'know?"

He laughed. "Yes, [Name], because that makes perfect sense,"

"Thank you, I thought I explained it quite well," You joked, laughing as well, hoping the conversation would change.

But, of course, it didn't.

"Seriously, though, what's up?"

"I'm just... Don't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, okay?"

"Okay..."

"I have feelings for Lucy, and I'm gay, so it's just really annoying to always have people asking me about boys and never taking the time to even consider that I might not even like boys!"

"I can see how that'd get frustrating, yeah..."

"That's it? That's your response?"

"What do you want me to do? Freak out? Stop talking to you? Spread it around campus? Tell Lucy? [Name], I'm not gonna do any of that. I don't care that you like to kiss girls rather than guys, so do I! If someone can't accept that you like to do that when I can get away with the same thing, then fuck them. I don't care that you're gay, but I do care that you like Lucy,"

"Wow, that's the best response I've got from anyone yet,"

"So, does she know?"

"Pfft, no, of course not!" You paused, leaning over him to look closer at the screen. "If you used the quick selection tool, you'd get a cleaner background and a nicer overall look,"

Before Joe could respond, your phone lit up, catching both your attention.

"Ooh, a text from Lucy herself!" Joe said excitedly.

"Shut up," You laughed, grabbing your phone to read the message.

'I've had a rough day, and, honestly, all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.'

Joe snatched your phone from your hands and began to type a response before you could get it back. He sent it, lightly tossing your phone over his shoulder.

"Joseph!" You scolded, grabbing your phone.

"What? I just scored you a date!"

'I can help with the drinks. Wanna hit up a pub later?'

"I'm gonna kill you—"

The vibration of the phone caught your attention again.

'That'd be perfect. I'll invite the boys, if you're okay with that?'

'Sounds good :)'

"Someone's got a date~," Joe sang out.

"It's not a date!"

"Five tequila shots, please," Lucy spoke to the bartender as soon your group had entered the bar.

"Five?" You asked, a little concerned.

"Five." She states, quickly downing the shots as soon as they were set on the bar.

"Maybe you should slow down a little, Luce," Ben commented, placing a hand on the small of your back to gently move you away from Lucy so he was closer and she could hear him over the noise.

You took a seat beside them, suddenly feeling a little jealous of how close Ben could get to her without anyone asking any questions.

"I'm fine, Ben." Lucy responded, downing the last shot before ordering the strongest drink the pub offered.

You sighed, just getting a plain gin and tonic before following the group as they went to their table. Everyone had a drink in hand, aside from Allen who was DD'ing for the night.

A few hours passed as the four of you got progressively more tipsy. When it finally got to the point where it seemed like Allen may have to carry the group out to the car, he made the executive decision to cut everyone off.

Obviously, being drunk and all, the four of you protested like children being told they couldn't have any more candy, but that passed once he actually got everyone out of the pub.

Once inside his car, Gwil and Ben began to raid Allen's CD collection to try to find a "banger", as Ben had to elegantly put it, for the drive back to the dorms. No one could agree on anything, so Allen just flipped on the radio. A pop station turned on, to which Ben feigned a gag and flipped to an old rock station that you remembered listening to with your dad as a little kid.

Much to the only sober person's dismay, Don't Stop Me Now came blaring over the speakers which was only drowned out momentarily by excited, drunken screams. Soon enough, the vehicle was filled with the four of you singing wildly off-key. When it got to the final chorus, you were practically laying across Lucy's lap as you belted out the words that you could only half remember. She laughed loudly, throwing her head back as you gave an over-the-top expression when the song ended, pretending you'd just finished the performance of a lifetime.

"Alright rock stars," Allen began, putting the car in park. "We're at the dorms. Are all of you capable of finding your way back to your rooms or do I need to guide you there, too?"

Lucy waved him off. "Pfft, we'll be fine. [Name] and I got each other to rely on in case we get lost," She slurred, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "Might need to guide the boys, though. I don't think they know where they are," She stage whispered the last part, throwing open the car door on her side, dragging you up with her.

Eventually, the two of you had managed to find your room after what felt like forever.

"I'm exhausted!" Lucy huffed, falling onto her bed, patting the space beside her. "Come sit with me,"

You reluctantly sat with her, unsure of what you'd say in your drunken state. However, if you did do something you'd regret, the good news was, she wouldn't remember anything.

"I want to watch a movie!" She whined.

You giggled. "Which one?"

"Ooh, Lady And The Tramp!" She clapped excitedly.

You laughed again, standing to put the disk in before joining her on her bed once again, the springs squeaking under your weight.

All throughout the movie, Lucy began to get closer to you. Eventually, she was laying her head across your chest and you were rubbing your fingers through her hair. It wasn't a romantic gesture, just something you started to do, not even thinking twice about it. Though, you began to think she might be weirded out by your actions, so you stopped, earning a small whine from her, so you giggled and continued.

When the movie got to the most famous scene where the dogs slurped spaghetti, you decided you may as well just confess your feelings to her. Though, had you been sober, the thought wouldn't have even crossed your mind. You knew this was a complete 180 from where you were at the beginning of the night, but neither of you would remember it, so did it really matter?

"Lucy," You whispered, looking down at her.

She turned her head to look at you, smiling. "Yeah?"

"I, um, have something to tell you,"

She sat up, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her feet. "You can tell me anything,"

"Uh..." You looked around the room; anywhere but her.

She placed a hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure you.

You closed your eyes, sighing. "I... Have feelings for you,"

She didn't say anything, worrying you. Just as you opened your eyes to see what her expression was, you saw her leaning towards you.

Before you knew it, you were kissing the girl you'd been thinking about nonstop for the last month, and it was everything you hoped it would be.

Joe's gonna lose his shit, You thought, smiling into the kiss. Soon after, your hands found their way into her short, blonde hair and hers snaked around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.

#lucy boynton #lucy boynton x reader #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #allen leech #ben hardy #queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #borhap imagine

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angelordemonmattersnot · 5 years ago

Text

@glazdon

Acts of affection ( shippy/ fluff edition )

💗 - our muses are wrestling playfully and yours suddenly kisses mine

🍟 - your muse steals a fry from mine and says “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

🎊 - my muse is pregnant and yours is ecstatic upon hearing the good news

----

She was... Well a little emotional about her fries being eaten by the love of her life. Well scratch that honestly... When Roland brought up that she was cute when she was mad, Sapphire burst out into tears. She just couldn't help it. Like literally couldn't. After going through the last few days of being woken up with the urge to empty her stomach through the day before settling finally by the time dinner time began to roll around. She was a little emotional about her food.

At first she thought it was some bug that she caught. After all it was part of her job to help those in need, and sometimes you couldn't help that those people were sick. But after day three, and concerned looks her way, the red head set herself up for a doctor's appointment. How wrong she was. A stomach bug didn't do this. No.. not with the news the doctor delivered to her. How could such simple, but so exstordernarily life changing news bring so much joy?

A baby.

They had been married at this point for perhaps... A little over six months? Having settled into a place that was a little larger than the last, the spare room they had wasn't going to be spare for much longer. But that was going to be fine. It was honestly the matter of sharing said news with her husband.

Which wrapped everything back to her being grumpy and distraught about the loss of her fries. Correction, one fry.

Cheeks puffed out as blue eyes narrowed in contempt. "Did you really have to take that? I need to eat you know." Grumbling at Roland, her hands reached to her plate as she pulled it a little closer. Bringing a hand up, as if to create a barrier between him and her food. Was this typical? Perhaps...but the fact that her eyes had become glossy, a sign of tears, was not.

"It's just a fry... You know we could cook more to replace the one I ate." Roland's expression changed from being humored to a bit more concerned for the fact that Sapphire was crying over the fry. The unusual behavior only made him more concerned. It usually ended with the two having a bit of fun after dinner. Then again, a bit more recently her mood swings had been a little more frequent and a bit harsher than usual. It made him worry there was something more going on that needed to be checked on by the doctor. Speaking of which, that was on the agenda of questions for his star. But perhaps... It'd be wise to lighten the mood. His focus falling fully back to his love.

"No..."she sniffled for a moment as teary blue eyes dropped to the floor. "It's just been a long day already...." She tried offering a small smile as Sapph looked up at her husband, an apology reflecting in her expression while her hands moved to clear her face of moisture. She really needed to pull herself together.

Roland blinked as his gaze went from his wife to the clock for a moment. The time changing to 11:17 in the morning. "Well.. that's saying something considering it isn't even noon yet.." His gaze turned back to the small woman before him, contemplating something. Yes.. now would be a good time to lighten things up. A slow smile stretched across his lips as Roland stood slowly from his chair.

Blue eyes followed his movements as a slim brow arched on Sapphire's forehead. Tears clearly stopping as curiosity filled the void. That expression spelled trouble. It did every single time. Well good trouble. Despite that, she waited with baited breath to see what he was up to. After all, he was very distracting to look at. Him with his rediculous handsome face, toned addictive body and the sweetest damned personality she ever had the chance to drown in. So lost was she on following his movement, she had missed the fact that he was at her side, leaning down, and quite humored with her sudden realization of just how close he had gotten.

Startled, a odd sound of a squeal mixed a strangled gurgle of excitement, the small woman practically fell sideways out of the dining room chair before catching herself in a hurry to skitter off to the living room. The bark of laughter echoed behind her for a moment as short legs carried her through the living room and towards the hall for the bedrooms. Despite the bout of sadness she had over the stupid fry, the fact that it had faded quickly was a relief. Especially as Sapph practically was snickering now as she attempted to flee.

Key word : attempted

Roland was just as fast out of suit, and just as light on his feet too. It didn't take much to cross the living room and into the hall once he stopped laughing over that adorable reaction. A predatory grin along his face as he reached out both hands, fingers grazing the sides of Sapphire's waist, the gap closing between the two. The hunter catching his prey in a final burst of energy.

The bought of laughter from the red head was her down fall as strong arms wrapped around her frame, lifting her easily into the air for a moment before being pulled against a strong warm frame. Hot breath tickled her ear as Roland joined her in laughing for the moment.

"Gotcha!" Long arms shifted the smaller woman in his arms to keep her comfortable against him while being held. Minor fussing coming from the other was normal. Typically cursing his long legs to catch up to her. Crossing into their bedroom, and plopping down onto the bed. Roland nuzzled his nose into curly red locks before placing a gentle kiss atop her head. " Love you my Star."

Arms loosened as if following a routine to allow Sapph to shift in a more comfortable position. All fussing ended once she settled in his lap happily, her attention turning to him once again. "Love you too my Leo." Gently tugging the front of his shirt, she leaned in kissing him gently.

Settling against one another, it was easy to relax and enjoy being in each other's company. Allowing the days stress, even if it was early in the day, to melt away. They were each others best remedy to a bad day after all.

After some time, Sapphire spoke up as she gazed at her husband. "You know.. I am sorry that I reacted like that. I wasn't trying to freak out over a little fry." Warmth spread through her as Roland's forehead settled gently against hers. Waiting for her to finish speaking before joining in. "I went to the doctor this mornin, and she kinda gave a bit of news I guess I wasn't quite prepared to hear. But it... It really does explain so much."

"Oh? And whats that?" He tried to remain calm. Normally Sapph was pretty straight forward with him. But she fidgeted in his lap while she beat around the bush so's to say. Which meant this was bigger than some virus he thought she might have contracted.

"Well..." She took a breath in, cheeks puffing out only slightly before letting it out in a quick release. Her cheeks colored a little while giving him a reassuring smile. "It's not death or anything like that.. but it will take bout nine months or so to let it pass..and another eighteen years before its all said and done." Seeing him arch a brow at her description almost made her laugh. "Oh come on haha... Its a baby... I'm pregnant Roland!" She felt giddy finally being able to tell him without her freaking out herself.

Those words sunk in heavy and quickly as his eyes widened. She was... It made sense the past few days.. even the past few weeks."Seriously?!" A swell of pride and joy spread through his chest and to the rest of his body as he pulled Sapphire in for a passion filled kiss. Any of her giggles died in her throat as she responded in kind. Pulling back for some air, laughter bubbled out. Excitement clear while holding his wife close. Her own cheerful giggles melded with his. "Holy shit.. haha that's.. that's some of the best news I've heard..." Planting a few small kisses along her face, he couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face. "God.. I was worried you were sick... Like really sick." What the hell would he do without his Star by his side? He'd already done so much to make sure she was safe. Enveloping her into his arms, held flush against him, he peppered her face with small kisses once more.

"No... I would have told you well before leaving the doctors if that were the case." A smile cracked across her face. One eye shut as she focused on her husband. All those little kisses filled her with so much love for this man. It was impossible for her to not figure out how to move closer, to soak up his affection in every way possible. "Now you're really stuck with me." Laughing, she kissed just along his jaw the first chance she got.

"Oh no...Guess I'll just have to cope with that by making sure we have the best life possible." Roland chuckled lightly.

"God I love you so much..."

"Love you too my Star."

#I figured I would fix this for you #is this how he finds out about their first daughter?#takes 9 billion years to post #not 100%#but I really hope you do like it #i kinda ran with it #<3

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firesoulstuff · 6 years ago

Note

Oooh! You know I've gotta ask for flashbacks with a Snart ship. Either Captain Canary or Goldenvibe? (Or Goldenatom, if you feel like it... Lisa/Ray has so much potential.)

AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

SOMEONE PROMPTED ME GOLDENATOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Sorry, I just LOVE Goldenatom and all the potential they have!)

Also I am going to apologize in advance for the absolute trash that I am for 2000′s era country music. This fic is 100% based on the Chuck Wicks song Stealing Cinderella. You do not need to know the song to read this, but if you would like to listen to it here is a link.

One Hell of a Thief

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814818

Ray Palmer is no stranger to feeling nervous.

He’s felt nervous plenty of times throughout his life. His first science fair, his first day of college, the day he officially signed the paperwork that started Palmer Tech, and a countless number of times since joining The Legends. But nothing compares to this. Of all the risks he’s taken as a Legend, of all the potentially dangerous situations he’s rushed head first into without a second thought, none of them are as frightening as this one.

Gulping down his fear he raises his fist to knock, but before he can so much as touch the door it slides open, revealing a bewildered looking Leonard Snart.

“Uh…” he stammers, unsure of how to explain his presence just outside the other man’s bedroom.

“Whatever you need Raymond, I’ll be back in a few minutes, Sara wants me help her sort out something from the last mission.” Snart explains, pushing past him so that he can move down the hall.

“But,” Ray finds himself stammering out before he can think better of it, as well as chasing the other man down the hall. “I… I kind of need to talk to you about something.”

“Is Lisa ok?” He asks, though he appears to be only mildly concerned. Lisa joined The Legends just over a year ago and the two of them have been together almost since the beginning, a relationship the older Snart sibling has made clear he isn’t thrilled about.

Ray is pretty sure it’s all just a part of his cold act; pretty sure.

That doesn’t make this any less nerve wracking.

“Yeah, Lisa, Lisa’s fine.” He stops to clear his throat, and while he’s sure his friend has noticed his unease it doesn’t stop him from waving him off.

“Then like I said, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

With that said he turns back towards the direction of Sara’s room, and so with the nerves settling in even deeper Ray heads back for the room they just left.

He considers not going inside, he has almost never been in Snart’s room and never once without the other man present. He’s terrified of accidently touching the wrong thing or something like that, but then again he is equally afraid of looking like a fool sitting on the floor of the hall for who knows how long. So it’s with a deep breath that he enters through the still open door, his movements stiff as though he’s expecting Snart to materialize and demand to know what he is doing in his room.

The room is clean; of course, because where Lisa is more than content to allow her laundry to pool over her floor her brother doesn’t have so much as a sock littering his space. The desk is a little more overrun, but it’s organized, and his bed is neatly made.

Though, there is something on the bed.

Approaching against his better judgment, and glancing twice back over his shoulder to be sure that Snart hasn’t returned yet, Ray notices that the object is a pocket photo album, and it’s open.

The picture is of a little girl, who he soon recognizes as Lisa, and it brings a smile to his face.

She can’t be any older than three, and she’s beaming at the camera with a toothy grin that spreads all the way to her rosy cheeks, her long hair failing in tight curls along her shoulders and a cheap Cinderella dress hanging off her tiny frame.

The next picture is also of Lisa, though a little older this time, and standing next to a pink My Little Pony bike that probably could’ve fallen apart right under her. He thumbs through the album, smiling at each new picture of Lisa as it’s revealed. There are quite a few of her in pajamas, some smiling and some looking rather annoyed. There’s one where she has an empty popsicle stick in her hand and blue dye smeared all over her face.

“She really is something, isn’t she?”

Ray nearly jumps at the sound of Snart’s voice, and he turns around with every intention of apologizing profusely, but when he sees the amused smirk on the other man’s face he calms, realizing that he hasn’t overstepped.

“Yeah,” he agrees, chuckling as he thumbs through to the next page of the album and it shows him an image of his beloved girlfriend at probably the age of twenty and posing with what he can only assume is her first motorcycle. “She is quite a woman.”

He regrets the words the moment they’re out of his mouth, his eyes settling on a now very unamused Snart. He hadn’t meant the words like that, in any sort of suggestive way that is. He isn’t sure if he can recover from something like this, especially not once Snart comes into the room, pace a touch more slow and sauntering than usual.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare to so much as breath as his girlfriend’s older brother comes and plucks the photo album from his hands, flipping carefully through it.

“Mom liked taking pictures,” he says eventually, almost like he were discussing the weather and not the pieces of his past that he usually keeps under lock and key.

“Of course, she didn’t take any of these.”

Ray nods; he knows that, Lisa’s told him. Their mom left when she was only two, she hardly remembers her at all.

“After she left…” Snart continues, like he knows he doesn’t have to explain any of this, but he’s going to anyway, because he wants to, and suddenly Ray realizes that his friend knows exactly why it is that he’s here.

“Dear old dad went off the deep end, and got rid of most of her pictures.” He continues, and Ray listens attentively. Lisa’s already told him this before, but with it now coming from Leonard, it’s just as important that he pay attention.

“The ones he didn’t destroy were the ones that had long been stored away, they were before Lisa was born. As she got older she wanted pictures too, so she asked me to take some.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

That was all he could think as he walked into Lisa’s room with mom’s old camera. Dad will lose it if he catches them, and he’ll pay the price, but…

“Lenny!” Lisa’s impatient whine came from her room. “Come on! Take my picture!”

He had to smile at the sight of her as he rounded the corner, standing excitedly in the middle of her floor in her new Halloween costume. She’d insisted on going as Cinderella this year and she, apparently, needed it documented.

“Ok, ok,” he gave into her, like he always did and still does. “But you better smile, cause we only have enough film for one picture.”

She had given him the biggest smile she could that day, and he was trying to bring that out of her again.

“Come on Lisa,” He prompted her, picking her bike up and doing his best to get it standing on it’s own. “You can’t give up yet.”

“Can too,” she muttered, still on the ground. “It’s a dumb bike anyway.”

He frowned, she wasn’t wrong.

This was the first time dad has gone to jail since she was a baby. She’s been miserable all week and him and grandpa have tried everything to bring her out of it, including getting her a bike.

Ok, it isn’t a new bike, but they can’t exactly afford a new bike while trying to get dad out of jail.

“Come on,” he tried again, “When you’re bigger you’ll want to see a picture of the first day you tried riding a bike.

She glanced at him curiously, and he was nearly sure she would just blow him off again, but she didn’t. She got to her feet with a huff and posed for the picture.

Leonard beams as he flips through the album, remembering all the pictures he and his grandfather took of Lisa when she was little, until he finally comes across his favorite, stuck in the middle of the album, and stops Raymond from turning the page.

“Where did you learn this?” He asked, though he wasn’t sure he really wanted an answer. Lisa was only nine, it wasn’t like a boy could’ve taught her how to dance while he was away in Juvie, but it wasn’t like grandpa was exactly in walking shape much during these days, never mind dancing.

Of course, his sister only giggled at him and adjusted his hold on her waist, which for the record he had to stoop low to reach but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Rosa taught me, she takes lessons.”

Ah yes, that explained so much.

So, after accepting that his fourth grade sister had apparently learned to ballroom dance from one of her friends, he kept his mouth shut and allowed her to “correct” his form.

He wasn’t planning on going to his prom, for the record. He couldn’t have cared less about it if he tried, but Lisa wanted him to go. As soon as she found the crumpled flyer sticking out of his backpack she’d been relentlessly pestering him about going. So, here he stood in the living room, wearing grandpa’s old suit while Lisa had her best dress left over from last Easter, insistent that they look the part while she “taught” him how to dance.

He should’ve known grandpa would bring out the camera.

“I can see her doing that,” Ray chuckles after Snart finishes his story behind the picture, “Lisa spending her recess as a kid learning how to ballroom dance.”

Snart rolls his eyes, but he also laughs a genuine laugh, one Ray doesn’t think he’s ever heard before.

That’s when it sets in; that Snart really does know why he’s here, and for some reason he has decided not to kill him.

He must sense this revelation, because in a very un-Snart-like and yet still somehow extremely Snart-like fashion his friend clasps him on the shoulder and holds his gaze for a moment.

“You’ll take care of her?” He asks, and Ray nods, fully aware that his expression is nothing short of pleading but he doesn’t care.

Snart smirks at that, and then looks past him.

“I know you’re out there train wreck,” he calls, and so Ray turns around, bewildered, while the door opens and Lisa comes rushing in.

A part of him is hurt, because he had wanted the proposal to be a surprise and he had hoped he could at least get Snart’s blessing without his girlfriend finding out. But of course she found out, Leonard Snart raised her after all. Besides, he can’t really be hurt, not when he’s watching her rush her brother in a grateful hug. He has to smile, his fingers still lingering on the now discarded photo album.

“If he gives me a hard time, I can’t blame the fella.

I’m the one whose stealing Cinderella.”

#DC's Legends of Tomorrow #lisa snart #leonard snart #Ray Palmer #bad things happen bingo #writing prompts #song fic

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issysindieblog · 6 years ago

Text

INTERVIEW - SPINN

SPINN are quickly winning over a fan-base across the UK from locals in their hometowns in Liverpool where they grew up to now adoring teen girls and this comes as no surprise to anybody. They have the cheek yet optimism of a new band despite completing their final lineup only last year and will no doubt continue to roar through the UK music scene and gain an army of avid supporters in years to come. This month, the boys are embarking on a tour of the UK, playing a series of gigs up and down the country from Glasgow to Bristol. They finish the tour off on the 28th September back in their home-city of Liverpool (O2 Academy 2 Liverpool). They've impressively already managed to sell out three of their six dates and have recently announced that they have been signed to American label, anti fragile music. The thing that the band are chuffed about though? The fact that one of their songs, It's Not Getting Better, was played on Made in Chelsea earlier on this week.

SPINN have released eight songs so far, including a self-titled EP which was released in April of this year. Singles of their's include catchy 'It's Not Getting Better' which is a song that stays in your head for days after first hearing it's memorable lyrics ( "you know it's killing me being here, killing me, being here.”) and groovy guitar lines which resemble that of early work from Blossoms.

Pictured below, SPINN.

So, (currently) 180,000 monthly Spotify listeners, a UK tour this month with half of the dates sold out and a growing army of supporters, I had questions for Johnny from SPINN and these were his answers... Maybe I'm slightly biased, but I think that these are the best answers to an interview that I've ever read.

1. Was there a particular moment that you realised that SPINN were becoming popular?

I was once getting a meal deal in Tesco and I saw somebody walk in the shop wearing a SPINN teeshirt. I was absolutely buzzing that somebody was wearing some of our merch and later on they messaged our Instagram page and said they'd seen me but had been too scared to come up and say hello. The same thing happened to me when I saw Ex-Everton Winger Steven Pienaar in a different Tesco. That made me realise we were doing something right, I still think we've got a while to go before we can say we're properly popular though. Just got to keep working innit x

2. Away from making music and gigging, what are your favourite things to do together?

Honestly just knocking about with each other like we always have, is what we like to do. Usually it can be anything from just walking around the shops together to going on nights out and staying up till 8AM. Last week Louis had to stay at my flat and we spent the time going to Tesco and prank calling Sean.

This has been a very Tesco centric interview I'll try and steer away from that for the rest of it. Right that's besides the point, as long as we're still knocking about together and taking the piss out of each other, we'll enjoy it x

3. You're going on tour soon, do you each have an essential item you will take with you?

I try to bring a book of some sort for the drive currently, it's Nine Stories by J.D Salinger

Andy ALWAYS brings a hairdryer and various hair products, rocking a bowl when you're on the road ain't no easy fete!

Sean usually just brings himself, that leather jacket he's always got on. A spare bass guitar wouldn't go a miss either, though. Once he left his on the side of the motorway when we were on the way back from Derby, good times.

Louis brings his Aston Villa blanket and 20 Litres of Vape liquid, the little fiend.

4. What/who are your major influences?

Collectively: The Drums, The Smiths, The La's, The Cure, Orange Juice, Ride, My Bloody Valentine.

Individually: Too many to list xoxo

5. Let’s fast forward five years from now, what do you see SPINN doing?

Ideally I'd like to get to the level of Wolf Alice or The 1975 are at now, that would be the dream. If we keep on working then I can see no reason why we can't get there, if we don't then that's fair enough, but we have to at least try! Anyway that's the dream, as long as we can make a living off the band and keep writing music that develops and matures with us then I'll be happy.

6. Do you have any pre-gig rituals?

I always have to go on stage last, I don't know why. At particularly big gigs we listen to 'I Am A God' by Kanye West before we go on, because it's such a good tune for getting hyped to. Other than that, apart from the odd bout of stage fright it's usually just a beer with the boiz before going on.

7. How has your music evolved since you first began playing music together?

I think our songwriting has definitely improved. When we listen to our new stuff compared to our older songs, it's just in a different league, that only comes with experience though. I think that us touring has definitely helped us realise what is what in terms of song structures and live performances. So to answer the question properly, yeah we've got a lot better (even though we thought we were boss before when we weren't lol).

8. Can you describe each member of the band in under ten words?

Andy - A man who loves his haircut more than life itself.

Sean - Donned in a tight leather jacket he's often quite hungover.

Louis - A small man, usually asleep in his Aston Villa blanket.

Me (Johnny) - Taller than the other four, basically the god of dancing xoxo

9. How long have you been playing together?

Louis joined about a year ago, but we've been a band for about 2 and a bit years. Saying that, I don't think we would be SPINN without Louis so therefore I'm gonna say a year.

10. What has been your favourite and least favourite venue to play so far?

My favourite was The Magnet in Liverpool. There's so many boss memories there but now it's been turned into one of those chain comedy clubs which is something that chips away at my soul every time I walk past.

My least favourite was The Sitwell Tavern in Derby. Everybody who came to see us was lovely and so were the other bands and the promoters Dominic (just wanted to make sure if they read this they know I had a boss time at the gig and in the chippy afterwards ;) ).

But, and it's a big but, the pub had fuck off massive "The S*n" flags up all over the gaff which frankly isn't something we like to see anywhere, as we think that that rag is scum, sorry not sorry.

SPINN set out on their debut headline tour this month at the following locations:

21st September - Surf Cafe, Tynemouth

22nd September - Broadcast, Glasgow

25th September - Record Junkee, Sheffield

26th September - Hy Brasil Music Club, Bristol

27th September - Thousand Island (formerly Upstairs at The Grage), London

28th September - O2 Academy 2 Liverpool

Tickets are available to buy now at https://www.musicglue.com/spinn-band/ and all of SPINN's music is available to stream on Apple Music and Spotify.

#interview #review #music review #music blog #spinn

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themonkeycabal · 7 years ago

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Hi! Me again! Can't remember if I've asked this before but regardless - are we going to see anymore of LaTroy and Sylvie in upcoming fics? 😊

Hi!

I don’t think you’ve asked that before, I don’t think anybody has. I originally didn’t plan to have them appear again, but everybody seemed to like LaTroy and his family, so, yeah, we’ll see them again.

I have one that I started but I haven’t finished it, because I wasn’t sure if I liked it. So it ends sort of abruptly, and it’s a first pass, so it’s probably pretty rough, but, I’ll happily share it with you. Enjoy, and Thank You!

LaTroy was sitting at a table in his deli, going through their supply and grocery orders. He had a little office in the back, but it was too easy to let that room eat away a whole day. Nobody wanted to disturb him there — even though he was always plenty glad when they did — so they’d leave him alone and the hours would slip away into numbers and accounts. It was awful.

Besides, he liked to be in the heart of things in case somebody might need something. Please, Lord, let somebody need something. Even if it was wondering where he put the napkins.

Going through the paper costs for the month, he was gratefully distracted when somebody joined him at the table. Glancing up with a smile, expecting his wife, he happiness faltered when he saw Darcy L. smiling back at him. It was months since he’d seen her or James. Just that one time, actually. Then neither hide nor hair of either of them until right now.

“Do you bake your own bread?” she asked without preamble.

LaTroy stared for a moment, not sure she wasn’t a bizarre vision; the result of too many numbers doing weird things to his head. “No. There’s a local bakery we order from. We do some of our own special breads sometimes, around the holidays mostly, and we make probably half the desserts.”

“Cool. Do you cater?”

Scratching at his jaw, LaTroy was trying to figure out what exactly was happening. She came out of nowhere, no greeting, just straight to business like they’d been talking all along. “Sure. Breakfast, lunch.”

“Nice.” She grinned at him and nodded. “Good to see you again, LaTroy.”

Letting out a small, bewildered laugh, he nodded back. “And nice to see you around, Darcy L. You bring James with you today?”

“No, just me.” She kept smiling, but there was something under it now. Like a warning. LaTroy frowned.

“How’s he doing?”

“Good. Maybe better than good. He’s got the property for his dream bar, so he’s busy planning and knocking down walls, as you do. He’s on cloud nine, or whatever the freeze-dried soldier equivalent is.”

LaTroy licked his lips and kept staring, not sure how to respond to that. Darcy didn’t seem to notice.

“So, can you do lunch for 15?” she asked, getting back to their business - the business he didn’t know they had until he was dropped right into the middle of it. Did Bucky ever feel this confused by her? “Or maybe 20? Make it 25. Like, box lunches. You know, sandwich, chips, potato salad, whatever else?”

“Sure,” he replied, trying to work around his bemusement. He pulled out an order book from his pocket. “When are you aiming for?”

“Friday. Is that too short notice?”

“Nah. It’s Tuesday. Plenty of time.” He wrote down a note. “Delivery and setup?”

“Just delivery.”

“Okay. Where we headed?” She rattled off an address in Williamsburg and LaTroy felt his confusion grow a little bit bigger. “Nobody closer?”

“Probably,” she told him with an easy shrug. “But, we’re friends.”

“Suppose we are,” LaTroy muttered, but he wasn’t really getting friendly vibes from her. In fact, it was peculiar how much this little slip of a woman was unsettling him. More than James did, even that first time. “This an office lunch? You want drinks?”

“I’ll handle the drinks. And, no. It’s for the construction crew. A) they have to put up with Bucky looming and hovering, and b) it’s been a couple hot, gross, sucky weeks, weather-wise. I figured they deserve lunch, you know?”

“That’s nice of you,” he said and wrote another note on his order book. It seemed smart right now to stick to business. “Assorted?”

“Yeah. Maybe five of the veggie option if you’ve got one, but the rest, just like turkey, ham, roast beef, corned beef, and whatever your usual build is.”

He dutifully wrote that down then glanced up at her, and watched as her eyes traveled over the deli. It was almost an absent look, not like James and his jumpy eyes. But, he still felt bothered, watched; hell, surveilled.

“You know,” he said as he turned back to the order book, “if you’re worried, I never said anything to anybody about him.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” she said with a nod and a little obnoxious smirk. “Lt. LaTroy Walker, 75th Rangers. Your CO was way disappointed when you retired so suddenly, by the way. He had big plans for you.”

Licking his lips, he set down his pen and rested his hands flat on the table. So, yeah, this was a warning. Clearly.

“My wife’s dad owned his place,” LaTroy said, explaining his retirement. He wasn’t sure why he felt he ought to explain to her, but he thought mostly it was important right now that they have an understanding. And it helped him keep his temper; her digging into his personal business and all didn’t make him happy.

“He got hurt pretty bad in a car accident. She came back to help the family out. I figured she needed me more than the army did. And I figured I needed her more than I needed the army. We were still dating then, but we got married a year or so later, when her pops was back on his feet.”

“That’s sweet,” Darcy said, and she offered him a genuine smile. “How’d you meet your wife?”

“You don’t know?”

“I limited my snooping to you.”

“Thanks, I guess,” he grumbled. He could see it, he supposed. If she was keeping Bucky Barnes safe, he’d guess she’d want to know who knew about him. It was just what it was that LaTroy found himself uncomfortably on that list of folks. “We met in college. Her family were always real good to me. They had their reservations at first; she’s Italian and I'm—”

“Not Italian?” Darcy interrupted with a guess and LaTroy laughed. Well, she was pretty polite about the snooping.

“Exactly. Not only that, but I’m not even from Brooklyn. I’m from Delaware. But, I guess you knew that.”

She snorted, but didn’t confirm or deny she’d dug that far. “So, how’d they get past that Delaware thing? My grandpa is from here, and of course, a couple friends. You’d think Brooklyn was some sort of Eden on Earth. I’m from California, so, you know, I don’t really get it.”

“It’s still a work in progress,” he admitted with a wry smile. “But, anyway, they were always good to me. Her grandma, well, she loved me more than my own grandma ever did, you know. So, when Sylvie’s dad decided to retire, we worked it so Sylvie and I bought the deli.”

“Nice. A real family business. Is that your son over there?” She nodded to the boy behind the counter, who was smiling at a pretty businesswoman.

LaTroy’s jaw tightened and he stared hard at Darcy. There were limits to how far he was willing to tolerate the intrusion into his personal business. Dante was way the hell off limits. "Why’re you here? You warning me?“

She looked away from Dante and shook her head. “Not the sort of warning you’re thinking of. Like I’m going to threaten you?”

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a pointed look over. His old army sizing-you-up look. She didn’t flinch away from it.

“I know,” she said with that aggravating smirk. “I’m not much, but I am scrappy.”

“I guess maybe you are,” he said carefully.

“Bucky—”

“Should you be saying that?” he asked, shooting his own look around the deli. It was the second time she mentioned his nickname, and it made him tense up every time. There were three other customers in there and his son. They could overhear maybe.

“Who’s going to notice? Unless you act all weird about it and make them notice you being weird. Relax.”

LaTroy blew out a breath and sat back. She had a point; the name only meant something because he knew it meant something. “Alright.”

“How did you figure it out, by the way? Did he tell you?”

He scoffed and gave her an incredulous look. “That guy doesn’t say anything.”

She laughed. “I know, so imagine how confused I was.”

“I saw a book; it had his picture in it,” he explained.

Darcy took that in and was quiet for a minute, looking thoughtful. “Did you ever play Howling Commandos when you were a kid?”

“Course I did.”

“Me, too. Then I grew up and one day Bucky Barnes sat down next to me. Weird, right?”

“Just like that?”

“Not exactly.” She leaned forward and gave him a very serious look. “Keep not saying anything about who he is. There are people who’d like to get their hands on him; really bad, awful people. I’d prefer they didn’t. Actually, we’d all prefer they didn’t.”

“I get that,” LaTroy agreed easily. Whatever the man had been through, somebody was holding onto him for all that time. And however he got away, somebody was probably looking.

“And I don’t want anybody to come here looking for answers. Bucky wouldn’t want you involved. Not as far as anybody anywhere would notice, you know? That the only warning I came to give, I swear.”

LaTroy nodded slowly and glanced over at his son again. He’d grown another inch or so. If Dante got much taller they were going to have to raise the ceilings. But, no matter how big he’d get, Dante would always be his sweet little boy. “I gotcha.”

“Okay.” She pulled out a card and handed it to him. “If anybody ever comes sniffing around, call me.”

He flicked a finger on the edge of the card. It was just her name and a number. “What’re you going to do?”

She watched him for a second then smiled, an actual smile and not that smirk. “Can I tell you another secret, LaTroy?”

“I guess,” he mumbled, hesitant about this whole thing. “This one need a warning?”

“No. My dad’s coming here.”

“Okay?” How was that a secret? This girl’s brain didn’t seem to work in any sort of straight line.

“We’ve been making a point to have a daddy/daughter date every few weeks. And, I told him about this place. So, he’s on his way now. We’ll grab dinner to go.” And as if that explained anything at all, she kept on smiling and sat back. “I’m serious. Call me. Even if somebody’s looking sort of shifty. Like, you’ve just got a bad feeling. Don’t second guess it. I mean, you were a Ranger, you know the drill.”

“Okay, but, really, what’re you going to do?” LaTroy demanded again. She might know Bucky Barnes, and maybe then by extension Captain America, but … what? They were more set up to help if somebody nasty came around. So, what did she think she’d be able to do? Was she one of those weird aliens they said looked human? Inhumans, right? Was she one of those? That’s the only way he could figure she’d be much help.

“Oh, I’m way helpful,” she assured him. Then she jerked her chin at his order book. “So, are we good for Friday?”

“Uh, yeah,” LaTroy said, and finished tallying up the order.

While he was still puzzling over Darcy L. and still wrapping up their business, the door opened and a man in old jeans and a faded t-shirt strode into the deli. LaTroy glanced up reflexively, as he always did with a new customer — somehow Darcy snuck in on him.

Squinting a little, he took the man in. This fellow might be dressed down, but he was wearing expensive sunglasses, had an expensive haircut, and everything about him said expensive.

He looked around the place, bemused, until his eyes landed on Darcy. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey.” She grinned at him and stood, then waved a hand at LaTroy. “This is LaTroy, he and his wife own the deli. LaTroy, Tony.”

When recognition hit, it was a surreal moment for LaTroy. Part of his brain said that was Tony Stark standing there, but another part of his brain refused to accept the idea that Tony Stark of all people would be in his deli.

Tony’s lips twisted in confusion, like he wasn’t sure why they were being introduced, either, but he nodded. “LaTroy.”

LaTroy got to his feet and offered his hand. “Mr. Stark. It's—”

“Yeah, you’re stunned and amazed and it’s nice to meet me. Got it. Good to meet you, too,” Tony said and gave him a brief handshake. “So, I hear you’ve got some kind of amazing soup? Like, Darcy didn’t shut up about it for a week. It was weird and, frankly, irritating. So, obviously I need to try it myself.”

"My wife makes it. Uh, we’ve got minestrone, tomato, and french onion today.” LaTroy was still processing the strangeness of Tony Stark, and okay, so he was a little slow about realizing exactly what was happening. Darcy said she was telling him another secret, and what she’d do if somebody threatened him, and that her dad was visiting.

Damn. Not just damn, but day-um!

“I’m feeling tomato,” Tony declared and drifted over to the counter.

LaTroy shot her a wide-eyed look and dipped his chin in question. Darcy patted his shoulder and said, “So, if somebody worries you, you’re going to call me, right?”

“Uh, yeah. I will. Promise.” Did she … she just said … Wait, wait. That was Iron Man, and she was Iron Man’s kid, and she knew Bucky Barnes and he’d already figured she’d know Cap. So, she must know all the others, right? So she just said if there was trouble, he could call in the Avengers. That’s what she said without actually saying it, right? The Avengers. For him? For real?

“Cool.” She started after Tony, but stopped and turned back to LaTroy. “You were nice to him, to Bucky. Nobody was kind to him for a long, long time. He told me how you met, how you tried to get him to come in. He wasn’t in a place to accept that then, but he appreciated it.”

“Wasn’t hardly a thing,” LaTroy said with a shrug.

“It was a huge thing,” she said, rolling her eyes at him.

At the counter, Dante was helping another customer and hadn’t noticed Tony Stark yet. That was going to be entertaining when he did. Though, LaTroy thought he should probably scoot on over there and spare his son the embarrassment.

But, before he moved, he asked the girl next to him, voice low, “Why’d you tell me?”

Darcy, who had an amused anticipatory smile as she waited for Dante to notice Tony, too, shrugged. “You kept Bucky’s secret. It seemed only fair.”

“How’s that work?”

“It’s the currency of trust. Right? I pay you back with my own.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t do it for you.”

“Look, he’s my partner.” Darcy turned away from watching Dante and gave him a very serious look. He didn’t know her much at all, but thought the serious look was probably a pretty rare one; worth paying attention to her, he figured.

“It matters to me that you noticed him,” she continued, “that you cared before you knew who he was, that you cared enough to figure out what was going on with him. And then, after you figured it out, that you still cared. You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to care. You didn’t have to wonder about him. And you didn’t have to keep quiet. It’s nice to remember there are good people in the world.”

LaTroy felt both humbled and baffled by her reasoning and could only manage a mumbled, “Man’s a hero.”

“I agree. But, not a lot of other people do.” She let out a long breath through her nose and rubbed at her forehead. “He was a POW for more than 70 years. Brainwashed. They made him do terrible things.”

Licking his lips, LaTroy remembered that article he found online that said Barnes was the man who ripped apart the D.C. SHIELD building. He didn’t want to believe it when he read it, but it made awful sense now. “Hydra?”

“Yes.” With narrowed eyes, she watched him for a long moment. “It wasn’t his choice. He fought them every way he could for all that time. And he’s not that man anymore. He got away.”

“Good,” LaTroy told her, firming up his lips. That was good. Good for him. And to hell with Hydra. How dare they. Monsters. They were monsters for a whole lot of awful reasons — this one just felt personal. “Hope he took some of them down on his way out.”

“Well, that’s an ongoing process,” she said, laughing a little. “But, buddy, let me tell you, it is satisfying as hell to blow up a Hydra base.”

Raising an eyebrow, he looked down at her and asked, “You do that?”

“Once I helped, and once I did it on my own,” she said proudly.

“Good for you, girl,” he praised and clapped her on the shoulder and was struck again by how petite she was.

He glanced over at Tony’s back, and then down to her again. Stark’s kid. His daughter. A beautiful little girl, the man somehow kept out of sight, safe from the world. LaTroy liked to think he was a modern man, but he didn’t think he could let his little girl go do something like that. Actually, he got a little shaky thinking of his boy doing that.

He had to ask. “Don’t take this wrong, but, how in the world does your dad let you go out and do that?”

“Another ongoing process,” she told him with a sigh.

LaTroy frowned for another minute and, finally, Tony was the next costumer up. Dante didn’t realize who he was talking to. Not yet, anyway. But, LaTroy wasn’t entirely noticing now, either. So, how’d Stark’s kid end up in a place where she was blowing up Hydra bases? With her partner Bucky Barnes? Bucky Barnes who, apparently, was the guy who took down the SHIELD building and who —

“Damn. You a SHIELD agent?” he asked in a strangled whisper.

“Who? Me?"she asked, and then laughed.

"I thought SHIELD was gone.”

“It is,” she said.

Dante finally noticed who he was talking to and was giving LaTroy a panicked look, pleading for help.

“Then how—”

“Bucky wanted a bar, I used to bartend in college, and you know, for a little while, seems like a good place to rest,” she said simply. It didn’t really explain anything, but that was probably the point. A gentle nudge telling him to butt out. He supposed he could accept that, she made amends for her poking into his life and he got why. Guess it was his turn to back off.

“Sounds good. I’ll have to come by for a cold one sometime.”

“On the house.”

LaTroy nodded and headed for the counter, ready to rescue his son from having to get Tony Stark a bowl of soup. “So, lunch for 25? Let me ring you up.”

“Make it thirty,” Darcy said, following after him. “They’re hard-working, burly men and women. They get hungry. My partner will eat any leftovers.”

LaTroy noticed Stark make a face at the partner comment and she raised an eyebrow back at her father. “What?”

“Nothing,” Stark grumbled and flashed Dante a grin. “How old are you, kid? Want a job?”

Dante stared for a second before remembering his manners. “No, sir. I have one, but thank you.”

“You sure? I’ve got an opening for an assistant. My last one left me to go be a bartender. What the hell is that, huh?”

“Uh …” Dante shot LaTroy another desperate look.

“I wasn’t your assistant,” Darcy protested.

“You assisted me with things.”

“Tony,” she sighed and kicked his ankle. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Fine, fine, whatever.” He leaned over the counter and gave Dante a serious nod. “Think about it. Give me a call if you change your mind. Give him one of my cards, Darce.”

“I don’t carry your cards on me. Why don’t you have your own cards?”

“If this kid was my assistant, I bet he’d have my cards on him. Pepper always had my cards.” He looked back at Dante. “What’s your name?”

LaTroy, who’d watched the exchange with amusement while he fixed up two bowls of soup, decided his son had been tortured long enough.

“This is my son Dante, Mr. Stark. And he’s seventeen and he’s got school, so there’s no going across town to be passing round your business cards. He’s got a job here and homework he probably ought to be getting to.” He patted his son on the shoulder and nudged him away from the register. “You go on, Dante.”

“Yes, pops. Thanks,” he muttered and his shoulders rose and fell on a relieved sigh. He bobbed his head self-consciously at Stark and said, “It was nice to meet you Mr. Stark. Enjoy your meal.” Then he hustled through the door to the kitchen as fast as his long legs would carry him.

#my fic #darcy lewis #tony stark #run 'verse #staceyunknown #fic bit

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