#i love that feeling where they know they can come back and not worry

[fireinmoonshot]

control | robert reynolds x fem!reader

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Fem!Reader Summary: Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand. Warnings: Mentions of fighting, concussions and injuries. Word Count: 1.8k A/N: This is one of the other fic ideas from the poll that I posted the other day! I really loved writing this one, it was so much fun so I hope that you'll all enjoy it as well. Thank you for all the love on my Bob fics so far. I'm loving writing for him! 💗

“You need to tell Bob that he doesn’t have to worry about me,” you tell Yelena from where you’re standing, one of Bucky’s arms wrapped around you to help you stay upright due to the pounding in your head and the pain in your ankle. “He’s going to panic when I don’t come back with you guys.”

They’re the first things you say to Yelena when the team decides that it’s important to take you to a hospital so you can get looked at. You’ve all sustained injuries before, but being hit in the head as hard as you had been made everyone concerned, and the fact that everything is spinning a bit definitely isn’t a good sign. 

No one is surprised that your first thought isn’t about yourself, but about the man waiting for you back at the Watch Tower. They’re not oblivious to whatever it is that’s been going on between the two of you, but none of them have found the need to know specifics.

“We will,” Yelena assures you before urging Bucky to get going.

He’d been very insistent on accompanying you to the hospital as soon as they’d discovered the extent of your injury.

Yelena is full of nerves by the time they get back to the Watch Tower. The elevator journey to the penthouse, where Bob is waiting for you all to get back, is the longest minute of her life. There is no way that Bob is going to react well to this news, and part of their job involves keeping Bob and his powers in control, which is much easier to do when he’s calm and not worried about someone he cares for.

The second that Bob hears the elevator ding, he stands up from where he’d been sitting with his book and starts to jog towards it, a small smile on his lips. Everyone going on missions without him always makes him miss them more. You, especially.

“How did it go?” He asks, the second he sees Yelena exit the elevator.

His eyes scan over the rest of them – Walker, Ava and Alexei. You’re missing, and Bucky is missing as well. His heart drops into his stomach and he clenches one of his fists at his side, trying to control his emotions. 

“Where is she?” 

Yelena is quick to jump to action. She’s by Bob’s side in a second, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and help ground him. “She’s okay. Bucky took her to hospital to get looked at by a doctor but it’s nothing serious. She told me to tell you not to worry.”

He almost laughs at that. The fact that you’d told Yelena to tell him not to worry when of course he was going to worry about you, even if you’d told him not to. He spends half of his time worrying about you, especially when you go out on missions. This is the first time that you haven’t come home. The first time you’ve been injured more than just a couple of scrapes and bruises.

It’s the first time that Bob isn’t going to be the one patching you up afterwards. 

“What happened?” Bob asks, eyes flickering up to Yelena’s.

She tightens her grip on his shoulder a little. “Why don’t we sit down?”

“No,” he shakes his head and pulls away from her grip, starting to pace back and forth. He can’t help it even though he knows it’s only going to make him feel worse. “No, I need you to tell me what happened. Everything.”

Walker, Ava and Alexei stand just inside the door of the room, watching him with furrowed eyebrows and worried expressions. You’d warned them that Bob was going to panic, but they hadn’t realised it’d be quite this serious.

“I don’t think you need to know specifics,” Walker suggests, taking a few steps further into the room. “Just trust us that she’s okay, all right, Bobby?”

Their concern is further elevated when Bob doesn’t even bother to respond to Walker. He continues his pacing back and forth, occasionally mumbling under his breath so quietly that they can’t hear what he’s saying. 

If he’d been there, Bob thinks, maybe he could’ve prevented this. He should be going on missions by this point, even though he can’t really control his powers completely, he’s sure he could be of some use. He should’ve been there. It’s his fault, really, that you even got hurt in the first place. If he’d been there as The Sentry, he could’ve stopped all of this from happening and you’d be right beside him, unharmed. But you’re not. You’re in a hospital somewhere, probably alone in a clean, white room waiting for someone to check you over. You could be bleeding, maybe badly. There could be broken bones, or something internal that they can’t see until it’s too late. It could be any number of things, all of which could’ve been avoided by him being able to control his powers.

Yelena flinches as the lights in the penthouse start to flicker. She looks over at the others who all have the same expressions on their face. Bob is losing control. He continues pacing and the room starts to shake a little. She can hear the glasses in the cabinets clinking together. The coffee table vibrates on the floor and the windows start to creak a little. 

“Bob’s doing this…” Ava says, taking a step towards him. “We need to stop him.”

“He’s going to cause some real damage if we don’t,” Walker agrees.

Yelena is quick to respond. “I’ll take him to see her. It’s the only thing that’ll work.”

“What the hell are you thinking? He could get even worse once he’s outside!” 

“We have no other options!” Yelena shouts back.

She wastes no more time in walking over to Bob and stopping right in front of him where he’s standing. She’s a little surprised when Bob actually stops pacing and looks up, meeting her eyes. But then she sees the glowing in them and her concern grows.

“I’ll take you to the hospital to see her,” Yelena tries. “We can leave right now.”

The glowing in Bob’s eyes dims and then slowly disappears. She lets out a breath of relief, knowing that he’s back in control of himself now. The lights have stopped flickering and the room has stopped shaking. 

“You will?” Bob asks, voice soft.

“I will,” Yelena confirms. She extends a hand for him to hold. “Right now.”

He’s reaching for Yelena’s hand when there’s another ding of the elevator and his head snaps towards it. Everyone else in the room follows his gaze as the doors of the elevator open and you and Bucky are revealed. 

None of them have ever seen Bob run as fast as he does to get to you.

One second, he’s standing in front of Yelena and the next, he’s at your side, cradling your head in his hands and tilting it from side to side to examine the bandage that’s been wrapped around it and make sure you’re not injured too badly.

Bucky looks around at everyone. “What are you all doing?” 

“She was right,” Ava says, motioning to you. “Bob panicked when she didn’t come back.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Walker confirms. “But your timing couldn’t have been any better.”

Neither you or Bob are listening to the conversation going on around you. You’re too focused on the feeling of Bob’s hands on your face and the look of relief on his face to focus on much else. He looks a little startled, too. His eyes are a little bit too wide and his breathing a little too heavy for someone who shouldn’t have been worrying about you.

“I’m all right, Bob, I promise,” you say, resting one of your hands on his wrist and dragging your thumb gently back and forth over his skin. “The doctors cleared me to go home. I have a mild concussion and a sprained ankle. I just need to rest.”

Bob shakes his head. “That’s not all right. A concussion is not all right.”

“It’s really okay,” you insist. “I promise I’ll tell you if I feel worse all of a sudden.”

“No,” Bob mutters, his gaze dropping from yours. “I should’ve been there. I could’ve protected you. If I had been there, none of this would’ve happened to you and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I should be able to be The Sentry without the other guy by now… if I could, I would’ve been there to save you from all of this pain.” His hands fall away from your face and he takes a step away from you. 

You frown, hating the way that he’s blaming himself for this happening when you were the only one at fault. You hadn’t been paying attention in the fight, too distracted by what everyone else was doing, and that had been the reason the man you’d been fighting had gotten the better of you and slammed you into the wall. Bob had nothing to do with it, not even you being distracted.

“Bob, that’s not true,” you sigh, taking a step towards him and taking his face in your hands to force him to look at you. “None of this is your fault. How many times have you patched me up before? This is not the first time I’ve been injured on a mission. You’ve been there for me every time to patch me up afterwards. You always save me from my pain.”

His eyes meet yours again and you almost crumble at the sadness in them. He’d really been that worried about you that he’d turned to blaming himself for it… telling Yelena to tell him not to worry was clearly never going to work.

“This time, it was too much pain for me to patch you up from, though,” he murmurs.

“No, it wasn’t. I still need time to heal. And you’ll be there for me while I do, won’t you?”

Bob nods. “I’m not leaving your side.” 

You reach down and take his hands in yours, giving them a squeeze. “You don’t have to.”

He takes a long, deep breath and steps a little closer towards you before leaning down and resting his forehead on top of yours, careful to avoid the bandage that’s wrapped around it and careful not to apply too much pressure in case he hurts you. “When I can control my powers,” he begins, “I’m never letting you get hurt again.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“I’ll keep it,” Bob hums. He stands up for only a second to lean down and press his lips briefly to your forehead, just underneath where the bandage is placed. “I’m glad you came home.”

You smile at the kiss and give his hands another squeeze. “I always will, so long as I have you waiting for me when I do.”

[oureddie]

is anyone else's brain just one big

what do we need him for? what's your problem man. what are we measuring here buck. you can have my back any day. i love kids. i love this one. they weren't my type. i thought you just dressed alike. buck gave me a heads up. does this boy crush on eddie mean you're finally ready to move on from abby. uh, you should meet his kid, though. i can see the pollen. i can hear it. ooooOOOOooo you made him cry. you dont find it son, you make it. you two have an adorable son. why are you in hospital jail. i got you. dear buck you are an awesome firefighter love christopher. GET UP your life isn't over just bc you arent a firefighter anymore. says the firefighter. there's nobody in this world that i trust with my son more than you. BECAUSE YOU'RE EXHAUSTING. did you ever stop and think for a minute what that could do to US. a total impulse buy, not like you at all. c'mon eddie if you're not gonna be honest with frank at least be honest with me. i could still take you. you think so? i know. wanna go for the title? uhhhh this is eddie's house im not really a guest. just wait until he gets to the 'i dont have to do what you tell me' phase. aren't you still in that phase. you hungry? wanna grab a bite after we drop him? weeeee have visitors cap. eddie!!!!!no!!!!!nonononnonoedddie!!!! CLAWS AT THE GROUND. you wanna do a rope rescue??? of course you do. i mean that wont happen to US. to abby. his fiance is ABBY. welp. at least it's not a tsunami. hey man you might want to talk to your kid about playing fair. buck can we go to your house and play video games. uhhhh sorry kid i think we might be kicking it old school for a while. he's on the phone with dr. copeland, emergency therapy session. what do you have to apologize for? did you say anything that wasn't true? yeah she's worried about me *drop kicks a punching bag* yeah can't imagine why. i had to do it. i know you did. trauma bag? yup. sorry whhaaaatttt was that? check. do you ever replay a conversation in your head and worry you sound like an idiot? have you met me. it's like the universe is scREAMING at you and you refuse to listen. the universe does not scream. am i interrupting book club. you're late. there was construction on sunset. had to take a detour. buck. buck you have to help chris is- right here. you sure that's a smile? that's the same face buck makes when he's gassy. but just be sure that you're following YOUR heart. *gets sniped* eddie- eddie i need you to hang on. are you hurt? where's buck? he's got a harder job tonight. the team feels off without eddie. he doing okay? better than me. i kind of lost it when i told him you got shot. hey since we've got a minute... uh is everything alright. it got me thinking. what would happen if i hadnt. so i went to my attorney and changed my will. so someday, if i uh, didn't make it, christopher would be taken care of. by you. don't you need my consent. my attorney said you could refuse. but you know i wouldn't. but you knew i wouldn't. because evAN. you act like you're expendable. but you're wrong. good idea. eddie really shouldn't be exerting himself right now. this isn't me an eddie bagging a turkey in south pasadena. he takes christopher there all the time, got the place memorized. my kid loves her. is that enough. ice goes on the eye bud. *gets kidnapped and held hostage together* my abuela would eat this up. she loves a good telenovela. oh cuz uhhh you don't? i know you watch them with christopher. that's how we practice our spanish. look man you don't need to pretend with me. buck you need to move on, i have. eddie get away from the door im coming in. what are you afraid of. that im never gonna feel normal again. buck already took him to school, figured you could use the sleep. chris drew this? uh, that one's mine i misunderstood the assignment. cuz he got the help he needed, and that started with you. i just wish i could- fix it? yeah. what are you offering? right now? bobby's famous lasagna. buck, you dont even have a couch. bUUUUCK where the hell are you going. you can live without a

spleen- right? she's gonna be ok. how did the age of absolutely turn into alfalfa smoothies? give me one second let me grab eddie. YO. i dont know. feels weird to congratulate him. alright cowbody go get em. BUCK!!!!! do more! i just feel like she sees me. sorry about this. yeah it's gonna suck. uh hey do you have any plans for the weekend? i was thinking about go-karting, place in the desert, supposed to be a blast. welcome back to the world of the living buck. you were missed. actually i was kind of hoping you would. i just dont want him to uh- end up like me? you didn't end up like you. hey cap, need a lift? you took the chevelle? how'd you talk him into this he always says no to me. like sea monkeys! in fact, i havent been able to uhhhh yeah since i found out. yeah. well i uhhh wish i could help with that! this doesn't change a thing between us. i thought you couldn't bring a date to a bachelor party. UBBBEEERRR!!!! we don't need a key we're firefighters. he's crockett he's tubbs. actually im crockett and HE'S tubbs. eddie who's kim. does that poor woman know she's a dead ringer for your ex wife. oh eddie. what you always do. talk to him. i dont wanna break down the door buck i want him to open it. well uh, he probably won't. ok well why does it have to be me? you're the fastest runner. we beat the bees! im guessing it's probably an allergic reaction of some kind. to what bad juju? you owe me five bucks eddie. i never watched glee. give it back im serious. we know you're serious that's what scares us. whatareyoulookinateddiehehehe. he knows how to stay, unlike some people. yup, i am freddie fakeman, you would do that for me? you and for christopher. mmmmm like it's nothing. it's not nothing. look i know this whole thing between us has been messy and hard. you do matter to me. i know. eddie would never do anything illegal eddie has a silver star!! you're his dad. he doesn't have a mom. if you don't damage him who will? dad up!! sorry i had to go to the airport to pick up this one. said i was gonna get groceries. it's fine. doesn't seem fine. the trials and tribulations of evan buckley. a tragedy in 97 acts. you've been spiraling since the funeral and nobody knows how to talk to you about it. i don't know buck i wasn't there. eddie- jerk. airport and texas are not the same. they don't even have the same amount of letters. heard some dick was being mean to you, thought you could use a little cheering up

or is that just me rn

[salthusiast]

Violent Love Language

No Goggles Mark x GDA Agent Female Reader

Summary: After being sent on a quick mission by Cecil, you catch the attention of one of the variants.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: Violence and blood. Also death (nobody important don’t worry).

“What is going on?!” You hear Cecil’s voice appear behind you. He must really like that teleporter. 

“It appears that multiple versions of Invincible have entered our dimension.” You say, clearing your stack of papers. You know Cecil is going to make you work for that paycheck today.

“No shit, many are we talking?” He asks.

“Sixteen, sir.” You reply, attempting to pull up any cameras you can access on your computer. You pull up the ones from the prison and see some weird Mohawk version of Invincible.

“Huh, well, that’s not what I expected.” You blink, taken aback briefly by the difference.

“It doesn’t matter what he looks like. We need to figure out how to stop them. Get every superhero on the planet out there.” Cecil commands.

You nod, getting ready to notify all the teams Cecil has at his disposal, which is a lot.

“Donald, come with me,” Cecil says, walking toward the door before pausing at the door and calling your name. 

You whip your head toward him, confused if you heard him correctly, “Yes, you come too.” He snaps.

You don’t want to piss him off more than he already is. You can’t imagine that dealing with a crisis like this is very fun. You’re stressed out with your current position, so you can’t imagine being the GDA director. 

“Everybody else, make sure that at least some heroes are trying to stop every single Invincible,” Cecil calls out before turning back toward the door, you and Donald following suit.

“I called you for a special mission. I tried to keep it on the down low as much as possible. However, with current circumstances, I need a favor.” The three of you continue to walk down the hallway. 

You start to feel a little anxious, “Whatever you need, sir. Will it be dangerous?” You ask.

He doesn’t immediately respond, “Usually no, but right now potentially.” He sighs. “I am trusting you with this job. It could potentially save millions of lives if you’re successful.”

Geez, no pressure. You feel yourself start to sweat, “If it saves lives, it is worth it. What is it you need me to do, sir?” You ask.

Cecil brings you to a new room, “You’re going to be looking for a black suitcase. In that suitcase, there will be about twenty small devices in there. They’re experimental, but hypothetically, they should be useful in dealing with Viltrumites. They’re portable versions of the chips that we implanted into Mark. They have a working radius of around fifty miles out.” 

You gape at him; you can't help but feel bad for Mark. You don’t know him personally, but he seems to be a good person. Cecil had made these intending to stop this dimension’s Mark, not other ones.

“Judge all you want about it, but it’s our best hope,” Cecil says, grabbing a watch-looking device. You recognize it immediately.

“Sir, where exactly is this located?” You ask, putting on the device.

Cecil looks at you solemnly, “Guardians HQ. If you’re lucky, you can find it and be in and out in five minutes. However, realistically, you’re going to have to pass all the security checks, which require everybody here to approve.” He sighs.

“I won’t lie, kid. There’s a large chance one of these Invincible variants will be there. If that’s the case, we’ll try and get you out of there. We’ll be monitoring from here.” Cecil gestures between himself and Donald.

You nod, “Yeah,” You take a deep breath, “Okay. Wait, so I get to use the teleporter?” You ask, feeling a little excited.

“Yes, you should just be going there and back,” Cecil explains, motioning for Donald to get everything ready.

“This isn’t coming out of my paycheck right…” You admire the watch. It looks simple, but you know this is very expensive. Cecil stares at you unamused. 

“Uh, okay, I’m ready. How does this— OH MY GOODNESS-” You feel yourself stumble as you land in Guardians HQ.

“Woah…” You look around, you haven’t been here before, not being a superhero. “Damn, really wish he gave me some idea of where it could be.” You mumble to yourself.

You look around the vast room, noticing a large desk. “Guess I’ll start here.” You rummage around briefly, not seeing anything catch your eye.

You spend the next ten minutes just trying to find the suitcase. Was Cecil trying to get you killed? He could’ve at least pointed you in the right direction.

Eventually, you find a door; there isn’t anything special about it. You go to see if you can open it. You try to twist the handle, failing miserably. “Oh, come on.” You groan.

You look at the screen on the door handle’s keypad, which requires higher security access. 

You turn around the room, “Uhh, if you guys can hear me, could you maybe unlock the door?” You point at it, feeling stupid.

Suddenly, a loud crash resonates in the room. You immediately try to find cover, but you’re standing out in the open. 

“Ah damn, I thought they’d be here.” You hear Invincible say, but you know it’s not the one you know. 

You slowly try and inch away out of sight. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t see you?

“Cecil, I know you’re watching.” Not Mark announces in a sing-song tone. “Here! Let me get rid of all these cameras for you.” 

You watch as this Mark variant destroys every camera. Damn, you were relying on those. 

You try and see if there are any differences between this Mark and the one you know. He seems to have the older costume. Other than that, there doesn’t appear to be any differences in it. 

You squint, trying to see. Oh, no goggles, that's a choice.

Just as you try and find a spot to cover, you hear him laugh loudly, “Oh, ho! Look who we have here!” He calls your name out. You stiffen. How does he know you?

“It really is you! Damn, I started to actually miss you. I killed you in my world, you were a reallll challenge.” He floats just above you. You feel a little pathetic crouched down beneath him.

“Is that so?” You counter, feigning confidence. Cecil, where are you? You take a quick glance at the watch, hoping it'll activate, but it doesn't.

“Oh yeah, for sure! I was so sad when I killed you. I got you to scream for hours. You lasted so long. It was soooo cool.” He gestures excitedly. You nod as if interested. Keep him busy, somebody’s gotta come eventually.

“How nice.” You reply sarcastically. Not Mark nods enthusiastically, not noticing the sarcasm.

I still remember what you sounded like. “God, I can’t believe I get a second opportunity to do it.” He lands right in front of you.

“Woah, uh, maybe take a step back.” You step back, creating distance. You feel unnerved by the wide grin on his face.

“Oooh, setting up the match, huh? We’re getting serious. Okay, okay, I’ll play along!” He gets into a fighting stance. You stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“For somebody who seemed to enjoy torturing me so much, I’m surprised I’m only the second version to have the honor to fight you.” You can feel yourself start to sweat. You are running out of ways to stall him.

“I know. I mean, I wanted to conquer other dimensions,” He waves a hand casually, “but this is fun too.”

You see a shift in the lighting above. You subtly glance up, finally somebody’s here. You can’t tell who it is, but you can see it’s not an Invincible. 

“Hmm.. yes, fun.” You reply uninterested. “You know what else is fun?” You ask, moving closer.

He starts to grin wider, getting into a more serious position, “What?”

You push him down the stairs, catching him off guard. You got lucky there. If he wanted to resist that, he definitely could’ve. You see the Guardians descend from the ceiling, restraining him.

You look towards the open door, which was locked earlier. You run towards it.

“Hey! AGH!” You hear him get hit. “DUDE IT WAS A ONE V ONE! RESPECT THE MATCH!” You hear him yell across the room. Ha.

You grab the suitcase waiting in the room, watching as the Guardians attempt to knock him unconscious. 

You frown, “You guys need him alive or something?” You ask, watching them beat down on Not Mark.

“Yeah, Cecil thinks he’s our best shot at getting answers.” You hear Darkwing reply. You nod, “Alright then. Not my business.” You start to walk away, “Wait, before I leave, can I do something?"

All the Guardians look at each other, “Sorry, it’ll just take a moment.” You set the suitcase down, taking a heel off your foot. 

You throw it as hard as you can at Not Mark, hitting him dead in the eye. “Hey! What’d you do that for?!” He frowns pettishly.

You grab the suitcase, picking it up again. You adjust yourself before looking him dead in the eye with a straight face, “Fun.” 

You turn around to walk away from the Guardians, feeling the odd sensation of being teleported once again.

All the Guardians watch, flabbergasted. “She’s got guts.” Darkwing breaks it, amused. Immortal nods, “Let’s just knock this guy out. There’s still more out there.” 

Not Mark remains on the floor, awestruck. How did this human come in here, trick him into an ambush, and then have the audacity to hit him? His eyes linger on where you teleported away. 

It was at this moment that he decided he would meet you again.

---------------------------

“That was a bold move, kid.” You hear Cecil’s voice. You look up, still nauseous from the teleportation, and his arms are crossed.

“He killed another version of me.” You justify, handing him the suitcase. “Even if I don’t have super strength to beat him up, I wanted to at least hit him for what he did. I would’ve slapped him, but I’m not stupid enough to go into neck snapping range.”

“Whatever," He sighs, "it’s done now. We’ll try and send these out with some teams. They should at least reduce the damage that could be done.” Cecil says, opening the suitcases. He grabs one of the devices.

“What about Mark, sir?” Donald asks, frowning. 

“If you can get in contact with him, tell him to get off the planet. Otherwise, it’s a small price to pay for the greater good. He’ll recover, humanity may not.” Cecil replies. Donald nods and goes back to typing.

Cecil turns toward you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Good work, kid. Sorry that you had to deal with that.”

You shrug, “It’s okay, he didn’t actually get the chance to do anything.” You reply. “What are you planning on doing with him? Are you sure you can restrain him?” You ask, frowning.

“We’re planning on implanting the same chip that Mark had into him. Don’t worry, we have a plan for what to do with him. We might be able to extract some answers out of him eventually.” Cecil sighs. “I don’t even know if we’ll be able to rehabilitate him.” He shakes his head. 

You know this is what Cecil does. While you may find some moral issues in using villains, you know this is how he works. There’s nothing you can do to change that.

You nod, “It’s worth a shot, sir.” You reply. “If we can have two Invincibles out there, that’d be a huge advantage.” 

“Yeah, that’s if he will change. These variants seem pretty set in their ways.” Cecil watches Donald work. “One step at a time. We need to get answers out of him first.” 

You nod, “Probably a good idea.” 

Cecil turns back to you before dismissing you back to your desk, “Thank you for your help.”

You nod, “Of course, sir. Call me anytime.”

—

“You sure he won’t wake up?” Darkwing asks, looking nervously at the body of the unconscious Invincible slung over Immortal’s back.

Duplikate walks up next to them, “I doubt it. If he does, Cecil told us he has a backup. We can also knock him out again.”

“We were lucky. If he wasn’t caught off guard, then we would not have knocked him out. He would’ve killed us all.” Darkwing responds solemnly.

Immortal slides the variant into the special cell that Cecil told them to put him in.

“Thank you, Guardians.” A scientist comes up to them, locking the special prison cell. “You needn’t worry about him escaping. You are free to go.” He smiles. 

The Guardians nod before rushing out of the Pentagon. Cecil walks into the room. “Is he up yet?” He asks.

The scientist shakes his head, “No, sir. We expect he’ll wake up in the next few minutes, though.” He taps his pen on the clipboard. 

“Good, all safety measures have been checked, yes?” Cecil asks. The scientist nods, “Yes, sir. He will not be escaping.” He responds. The two watch as the Invincible starts to stir.

“Agh, my head… Hey, where am I?” He looks around before making eye contact with Cecil. “You seriously think that I can’t escape this?” He sounds amused. He slowly stands up, walking up to the front of his cell. 

“Perhaps, but you will regret your attempts,” Cecil replies, his voice betraying nothing. 

The Invincible variant laughs, taking off his mask. “You had me knocked out, why not kill me?” He puts his finger through the mask and spins it.

“You aren’t in a position to be asking questions.” Cecil narrows his eyes.

The variant suddenly slams into the front of the cell where Cecil and the scientist stand. The scientist flinches back, but Cecil remains still.

“You truly think. I can’t kill you right now?” He laughs. “All it takes is— ARGH!!” He immediately falls down onto the ground, gripping his head. 

Cecil presses the button once again, cutting out the noise playing in the Invincible’s ear. “Like I said, you’re not in a position to be asking questions.” The variant looks up at him, the amused smile gone from his face.

"Now tell me why you’re here,” Cecil demands. 

The variant wipes the blood from his suit, “I’m not tellin’ you shit.” He smears the blood on his fingers to the ground. Suddenly, he says your name, the smile returning to his face.

“What?” Cecil asks, confused. “How do you know her?” He asks.

“Does it matter?” The variant rolls his eyes. “Where is she? I want to talk to her.”

“Sorry to say, we can’t do that.” Cecil didn’t sound very sorry.

The variant clicks his tongue, “Damn, guess you’re not getting a word out of me then.” He leans against the wall smugly.

“You can rot in this cell then,” Cecil replies.

The variant snaps and then does finger guns, “Oooh, so you see, that won’t work.” He laughs loudly. “I mean you’ll die eventually. I have centuries to escape, and trust me...” 

He leans towards the wall, placing his hands against it, “It will not take me a century to escape. You’re lucky if you last a week.” He pushes away from the wall, pacing in his room.

“Now, if you want answers. Bring her. It’s a win-win. I get the girl, you get your answers!” He grins widely, as if that’s a very fair deal.

Cecil sighs.

--------------------------

“Uh, what is it you need, sir?” You ask your boss over the phone. 

“It appears that the Invincible variant we captured refuses to answer any questions,” Cecil responds, annoyed, looking over toward the variant, who is grinning with two giant thumbs up.

“Okay..?” You respond, not liking where this is headed.

“I hate to involve you again, kid, but he will only answer questions if you are there,” Cecil replies exasperated.

You are frozen for a moment; this monster almost killed you. Why on Earth could he possibly want to talk to you?

“..Which cell is he in?” You eventually concede. You can hear Cecil sigh in relief. 

“Thank you, he’s in cell two hundred forty-three,” Cecil informs you. 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You tell him before you hang up. 

You grab all your stuff and begin your long trek to the special prison Cecil has. It’s supposed to be able to withstand anything, but after seeing Omni-Man take a nuke, you aren’t certain.

You eventually get down to that level, and the security asks for your identification. You scan your card before walking in. You see Cecil and Donald standing at the end of the row.

You slowly approach, “There she is! I was wondering if you were gonna show!” You hear Not Mark (at this point, that’s his new name) call. 

“How long do I need to be here for?” You whisper to Cecil. 

“Long enough to figure out why they’re here and who sent them,” Cecil responds, matching your volume.

“You got your wish, now can you answer our questions?” Cecil asks, crossing his arms.

“Mmmm, I don’t know.” He looks at you and frowns. “I thought it was just gonna be me and her.” He looks disappointedly at Cecil.

You and Cecil share a look, you nod at each other, before he looks down shaking his head. “Everybody out! You get ten minutes with her, nothing more.” He states before the area clears out.

You shift uncomfortably, he is just watching you. He seems content just to stare at you. 

“What?” You ask, feeling scrutinized by his stare. He looks up at you, “You’re amazing.” He replies breathless.

You raise an eyebrow, “I’m amazing. After you told me that the other version of me you tortured was one of the best things you’ve done? Hate to break it to you, but I am just a normal person.” You cross your arms, looking at him. “I think you’ve noticed that already.”

He nods, “Of course I have. She was strong, sure, but you. You played me like a fool. When you hit me with that shoe at the end? Way to leave a guy with a cliffhanger.” He mockingly swoons.

You look at him unimpressed. “Very funny. Now we don’t have much time, so please just cooperate and answer these questions. It saves us both trouble.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Of course. What do you want to know?” He sits on the ground, criss cross, looking up at you like you hung the moon.

You ignore his gaze, “Why are you here?” You ask.

“Well… You see, I got into a fight with the Guardians. Oooh, I was so looking forward to actually fighting them. Instead, I met you.” He rests his elbows on his knees, holding his face with his hands.

“I was so enraptured by your presence that I got caught off guard.” He holds his hands out. “Now, I’m in prison.”

You look at him, glaring. “You know what I meant.”

He frowns, “Not big on jokes? We were chatting perfectly fine earlier.” He says to himself. You exhale annoyed.

“Sheesh, just playing! Okay, so this guy, right? He promised me the most fun dimensions for me to take over.” He shifts his weight onto his side. 

“What was his name?” You ask. 

“Angstrom Levy.” He says, and you freeze. “Oh, you’ve met?” He asks.

“Not personally, but I’ve heard stories.” You look down. “What exactly did he ask you all to do?” You ask.

“Eh, something about making everyone here fear Invincible. It seemed like he just wanted chaos, which I didn’t mind one bit.” He holds his hands up in surrender.

“How long are you guys meant to do this for?” You ask.

He shrugs, “Until he says stop, I guess.” 

“And when would that be?” You walk up closer to his cell. He stands up, meeting your gaze. His eyes glance down at your lips.

“I…” He stares at your face, “have no idea.”

You frown, “Helpful.”

“I try to be.” He grins.

You shake your head, rubbing your temples. This is way above your paygrade. “So, let me get this straight: Angstrom Levy brought over a dozen different versions of yourself,” He nods, “and he just told you guys to ‘cause chaos.” 

“Sounds about right.” He starts spinning his mask with his fingers again.

“And in return, he’d give you dimensions to conquer?” You frown.

“Yeeep.” 

“So you have no idea why he wants you guys to cause chaos?” You lean up against the cell. He leans against his cell, too, mirroring your action.

“To be honest, I didn’t particularly care.” He taps his finger against the cell. “But, I do know the me of this dimension did something to piss him off.”

You think back to the whole incident with the Mauler Twins and the other incident where Mark almost killed him. “Oh.” You respond.

“‘Oh?’” He quotes. “You gonna share with the class?” 

“I thought I was the one asking questions.” You look at him.

“And I answered! Come on, throw me a bone here, will you?” He grins at you, looking far more innocent than you know him to be.

You look at him unimpressed. 

“Please?! Come on. There’s nothing fun around here. You’re my only source of entertainment right now.” He leans against the wall dramatically.

“Glad to know I’m contributing to your lack of entertainment.” You respond, detached.

“Aha! There she is! I was wondering if you left all your personality back where we met.” He snaps his fingers and does finger guns at you.

You look at him blankly. “Cecil will be back any moment now.” You begin to walk away.

“Wait, wait!” He calls out, and you pause.

“Will you come and visit me?” He asks, giving you false puppy dog eyes. You know if he wasn’t in that cell, he’d probably kill you.

You scoff but find yourself smiling, “Why, so I can be a source of entertainment for you?” You ask, walking back to his cell. He walks up to where you are, and you both stare each other down.

“Perhaps.” He grins.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look like you’re getting answers out of him.” Cecil walks in. You immediately distance yourself from the cell, breaking eye contact with Not Mark. He doesn’t move from where you two had your little staring competition.

“Forgive me, sir.” You look away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I did get answers, though.” You consciously ignore Not Mark, who is waving at you both to try and get your attention.

“We heard,” Cecil responds dryly, he does sound a bit amused though. He puts his hand on your shoulder, “Thanks for your assistance. Sorry we had to bring you out again for.. him.” You both turn to look at Not Mark, who grins innocently.

“Yeah, no problem.” You say, feeling as if it were very much a problem.

“Wait, Cecil, is she allowed to visit me?” Not Mark asks, butting into your conversation.

“That’s up to her.” Cecil says, at the same time you say, “It’s prohibited.”

You look at Cecil, distressed. “What? It pays to be in his good graces.” Cecil whispers to you.

“Yeah? What’s his good graces? Not breaking out and killing everyone?” You respond frustrated. Cecil raises an eyebrow before looking over at Not Mark. “Fair enough.” You sigh despondently.

“I can hear you two.” Not Mark comments helpfully.

You look at Cecil, and he nods. “You can head back now.”

You nod, “Thank you, sir.” You start to walk away, ignoring Not Mark’s cries of “Wait!” and “Don’t go!”

You walk past the security, giving a nod of acknowledgement. You walk into the elevator.

Once you arrive on the floor, you were supposed to be on (before all of that happened). You sit down at your desk, grabbing your stack of papers you threw aside earlier. 

“How are the Guardians doing, or all the teams for that matter?” You ask your coworker, Bryan, casually.

He groans. “We’ve already seen at least three be eliminated or seriously injured.”

“Teams? Like they killed off entire teams?” You ask, shocked.

He nods, “Yep. Down and out.” He types frantically on his keyboard.

“…Have we managed to kill any of the Invincibles at all?” You ask hesitantly, unsure if you want to know the answer. 

“At the moment? Four.” He responds.

“Oh, that’s more than I expected.” You look around the panicked room. Every person around you is frantically working. Crazy to think that not even 10 minutes ago you were talking to one of those Invincibles while everybody up here was stressing.

“Did you find out any valuable info from the one we captured?” Bryan asks.

“Not much. Levy sent him.” You start to log in to your computer.

“Levy? As in Angstrom Levy?” He asks, flabbergasted.

“Yep.” You pop your lips. “Turns out Mark didn’t kill him.” 

“From what I heard, there was no way anybody could survive that.” 

“Well, apparently he did. He wants revenge on Mark, I think.” You respond.

“Great, so he brought sixteen different Invincibles in order to kill our Invincible.” He sighs, pausing in his typing.

“Eh, basically. Apparently, they won’t stop causing damage until told to by Levy himself.” You tell him. “The captured one didn’t even know when that’d be.”

“Oh, so they could go on until they destroy the world?” Bryan laughs humorlessly.

“Yeah. I have no idea when—”

A loud crash resounds in the room. You and Bryan whip your heads around, looking at the giant hole in the ceiling. You look and see an Invincible floating over the rubble. 

You quickly glance at Bryan before you both scurry out of the room. You start to run out when…

“HOLY SHIT!” You hear him yell. You turn around to look at him, narrowly missing the body that was flung inches in front of your face.

You stare in horror, watching as employee after employee is murdered. You begin to run again. 

“Ugh damn it…” You frantically yank your heels off your feet. You run off to the exit. You, Bryan, and a few other coworkers manage to escape that room, but you can still hear the screams from where the crash was.

“Where is Cecil?!” Somebody asks. You shake your head. “Probably dealing with the other one we captured.” You groan. This Invincible is probably here to break that one out of prison.

“Let’s go, it’s safer in the halls than it is here.” You look at the remaining people, who nod. You start to run out again before the wall on your left explodes. 

“Other way, other way!” You yell, panicked. You push back against the remaining people. They start to head in the other direction. 

“Are all of you guys okay?” You ask. Out of the thirty of you in that room, seven (including you) made it.

“We should’ve just let him go.” You hear a coworker mumble, and everybody turns to look at them. “What? Am I wrong? This never would have happened if we didn’t keep that other one hostage.” You hear some murmurs of agreement.

“We don’t know that. The Pentagon might’ve been a target regardless of the Invincible we kept.” You frown, shaking your head. 

“Yeah? Well, we can’t be too sure, can we? How about we find out, huh?” The worker pushes past you all, heading back into the original room.

“What are they doing?” Bryan asks. You all watch as they run to their death.

Suddenly, static cuts in from the PA speakers: “Cell two hundred and forty-three is open.”

You all sit in silence for a bit before some people in your group begin to sob. 

The door the worker ran into earlier opens, and you all watch as a head rolls through the door. It is the head of that worker.

You all look up in horror. The Invincible variant crushes the head of the worker before looking up. 

You, being in the back, turn in the opposite direction. You think you’ll take your chances with random exploding walls over that. Bryan notices, and you motion him to be quiet, and duck so that the variant doesn’t see you two escape.

You both crouch, walking in the other direction. The group is still back there facing off against that Invincible. Do you feel bad for leaving them there? Yes, but you can’t dwell on it. It’s either all of you die, or some of you die. 

You don’t even hear the screams of them, just the wet slap of their bodies hitting the blood-soaked floor. You flinch, knowing that you two are now in plain view.

“Bryan, Bryan, we have to ru—” You turn to look at your friend, but pause in horror. The variant stabbed his hand right through him. You cup your hands up to your mouth, holding back a sob. You look at the variant before attempting to sprint away. You feel yourself get slammed into the wall, and you let out a soft “Oof!”

You look up in fear, the Invincible’s goggles block you from seeing his eyes. You can feel the tears roll down your face at this point. You don’t say anything, just stare at him silently as he raises his hand to strike you down.

Suddenly, you’re thrown to the ground, out of the Invincible’s grip. You look up.

“Dude, what are you doing here? God, you ruined my whole plan.” Not Mark pouts petulantly.

“I wasn’t aware you were here.” The other Mark replies.

“Well?” He does jazz hands. “I am! Now get out.” 

“Sure, whatever, just let me kill the human first. Angstrom said kill as many as possible.

Within an instant, Not Mark tackles the other one, sending a cloud of dust throughout the entire area. You cough, watching in both awe and horror. You attempt to stand up, but feel a sharp pain in your leg.

“Agh… shit.” You whimper, an action that seems to catch Not Mark’s attention. Within a millisecond, he’s in front of you, “Do you trust me?” He asks.

You blink at him, feeling the gust of wind from him speeding towards you. “Absolutely not!” You suck in air from the pain.

He grins, “Great.” He then grabs you bridal style before blasting into the air.

“OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You attempt to yell over the rushing wind. You feel yourself suffocating, unable to breathe with the high speed and rushing wind.

“Aw shit, forgot humans can’t breathe when I move this fast. You think you can last a little longer?” You hear him ask. You try and nod, but can barely move against the strong force. 

Eventually, you come to a stop, he places you down gently on the ground. “Do not move. Go inside that building, I’ll be back shortly.” He points to a relatively run down looking building.

“What?! Where did you drop me off-” You watch him speed off back into the sky. “Unbelievable!” You yell out to nobody. Who is going to believe this happened to you today? Nobody! 

“I’m not waiting here, asshole.” You grumble to yourself.

--------------------------

You sigh, waiting inside the building.

“How long is his definition of ‘shortly'? It’s been days.” You lean your elbows on your knees. 

Luckily, despite its run down appearance the place Not Mark dropped you off at has running water and food. 

It took you a while to actually try and consume any of it, but you decided that you didn’t want to die in the middle of nowhere. You’ll take your chances. Worst-case scenario, Cecil pays for your healthcare. He is the one who put you in this situation anyway.

Suddenly, the door gets thrown open. You jump back into the corner of the room you’re in. You hear Not Mark call your name.

“Hellooo? Anybody here?” You hear him approach you before looking directly at you. “There she is!” He walks up to you.

You grimace in disgust, looking at him. He’s covered from head to toe in blood. 

“What’s wrong?” He frowns. “Do I have something on my face?” He asks.

You look him up and down again, “Blood.” You respond disgustedly.

He blinks, confused, “You don’t like the blood? I thought you’d like it.” He looks at the ground as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “I’ll be right back.” He zooms out of the room, the door shutting itself behind him.

You look at the spot he was just at, unimpressed. Suddenly, the door opens again, and his suit is clean. You furrow your eyebrows, “How’d you clean it?” You ask.

“Flew to space and back. It comes off.” He mentions casually, as if that’s normal. “Anyway, ready to head home?” He grins, looking at you, holding his arms out ready to carry you. 

You look at him, suspicious.

He rolls his eyes, “Oh come onnnn. If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve done that way earlier.” He raises a hand and waves it back. At your horrified expression, he elaborates, “I mean like… You know what I mean. I don’t want you dead. I kinda went out of my way to make sure you didn’t die.” 

You nod, “Oh, yeah, okay… So I should just let you whisk me to who knows where.” You feign calmness.

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs before grinning widely. “OOH, unless you want to give me your address.”

You stare at him, trying to discern whether he is serious. He stares back, smiling, looking like a dog begging for a treat. 

“No!”

“Worth a shot.” He sighs dejectedly. 

He carries you back, flying a lot slower this time, but still fast enough where you can’t bring yourself to talk in fear of choking on air or on a bug.

You feel him gaze at you a couple of times and pointedly ignore his stare. Suddenly, he pauses, slowing to a stop mid-air. “What’s wrong?” You ask, panic growing. 

You see him groan before throwing out some earpiece in his ear. “Oh, they didn’t take that out when you entered the Pentagon?”

“I don't know, I should be asking you that.” He leans down to your ear. “Hold on tight.” He whispers.

“What? OH MY—” You see him attack something. It explodes in the air. You both watch the debris fall onto the earth.

“What was that?” You ask, unsure if you want to know the answer. 

“Angstrom.” He says, pulling you closer before flying back where he was originally headed. 

You go the rest of the flight in silence. It wasn’t like you could talk if you wanted to. The wind made it difficult.

“Andddd we’re here. Wow, we really did a number on this place.” You look down, seeing half the Pentagon decimated. 

Out of nowhere, ReAnimen jump up into the sky. Not Mark drops you out of surprise. You feel yourself fall, closing your eyes and bracing for the impact. God, was this finally it? After everything you survived today?

A pair of arms catch you, and you open your eyes to see the singular red light of a ReAniman. You try to lean back away from the undead creature. You know they work for Cecil, but it doesn’t mean that you have to like them.

“Oh, good you’re alive. How’d you live?” Cecil asks. You feel yourself questioning for a moment if he is actually happy to see you alive. You turn toward Not Mark. He is fighting the ReAnimen. 

“Woahh, I never fought these guys in my world. They’re kinda fun.” He slams five of them using the body of one he already killed. “I killed you before you got the chance to create them, but man, Cecil. Good stuff.” He hovers over them.

“He saved me.” You tell Cecil, not exactly sounding enthusiastic.

He raises an eyebrow, “From the other one that came?” He asks, you nod.

“Hm…” He pauses, looking at the ground before pointing at you suddenly.

“What?” You whisper.

All the ReAnimen slowly turn their heads toward you. “Wait, Cecil, what are you doing?” You ask, panic growing. He looks at you coldly. “Cecil…” You try again.

Not Mark, noticing the lack of new opponents looks down. He spots you getting circled before he immediately dives in and lands right behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” He asks coldly. The grin on his face from the fight earlier is nowhere to be seen.

Cecil suddenly holds his hand up, and all the ReAnimen halt. “I see.” He says to himself. He says your name, “I apologize for my actions just now. I just had to…” He looks at Not Mark, “test something.” 

You look at Not Mark and then Cecil. “Please tell me you aren’t thinking what I’m thinking.” You look at Cecil in disbelief.

“What is it?” Not Mark asks right behind you. You step forward to create some distance between you two, and he steps forward to compensate.

“Say, how about you work for the GDA, Mark?” 

You and Not Mark both gape at Cecil before both of you simultaneously cry out:

“Are you SERIOUS?!”

“Oooh.” Not Mark laughs loudly. “Yeah, absolutely not. Why would I ever work for you?”

Cecil looks at you, his eyes seem sympathetic, yet unapologetic. “You can work with her.” 

So now here you are. Watching an evil version of Invincible shake hands with Cecil Stedman. The deciding factor? Getting to work with you. Truly, you’d feel flattered if it were anybody else.

“Soooo we’ll be in contact?” Not Mark grins at you, leaning into your personal space. You step away from him, but he follows.

“Kill yourself.” You deadpan. 

He smiles wider, and you know he heard it. “Now, is that how you talk to the person who saved your life? Oh, and your new coworker.” He removes his mask.

You feel your eye twitch. Is this seriously your life now?

“Why the long face?” He mocks your traumatized expression before breaking character and laughing loudly. “Come on, let’s get to work!” He floats up, flying in circles around you in the air like a hyperactive dog. 

“This is my life now.” You tell yourself, Not Mark nods because of course he heard you.

“Our life now.” He grins at you. 

You groan.

Quick A/N: Yes, yes, I'll get back to writing for Viltrumite Mark. Unless you guys want more of this. Either way Viltrumite Mark pt 3 is up next :D

[phantomspiderr]

Redamancy

Joaquin Torres x f!reader

The aftermath of sleeping with your best friend is never good—feelings grow where they weren't supposed to, and it drives a wedge in your relationship. Then things change...

warnings: 18+ mdni, fluff, to me joaquin is a very touchy person, little angst(?), overuse of the L word, cocky!Joaquin, mentions of sex, smut, no physical description of reader except being slightly shorter than Joaquin, petnames, mentions of eating and food, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions/description of reader having a panic attack, platonic sam wilson

wc: 8.3K

━━━

“We should really stop doing this,” you pull your shirt over your head and look at Joaquin. He’s still wrapped up in the sheets, his hair a mess of curls and an amused expression gracing his face. He leans on one elbow, body turned in your direction as he watches you dress yourself. 

“Why?” He almost laughs as he says it, and you feel your chest tighten at the sound. 

“Because-“ you actually can’t think of a reasonable way out of this, other than outwardly telling him you can’t keep doing this. “Because you shouldn’t be so distracted.” The lie slips out so easily, but you can't find it in you to look him in the eye when you say it.

“I felt pretty focused last night.” He smugly spoke, a goofy grin appearing. He really wasn’t making this easy. 

“You have better things to focus on, y'know, like saving the world.” You quip back, turning away from Joaquin, unable to glance in those chestnut eyes any longer. You distract yourself by pulling on your pants, acting as if that’s the reason you turned away and not because he has never looked more attractive than in this moment. 

“I can focus on two things at once, you know? I’m very talented.” You can’t help the chuckle that leaves you; his overconfidence always seems to bring a smile to your face. You remember that shy little kid that you’d always share your lunch with, the one whose confidence grew after puberty when the girls suddenly started flocking to him. You can still see a glimpse of his former self every so often, but you love it when the confident man he’s turned into oozes out. 

There’s a deafening silence after he speaks, and you don’t know how to leave now. You’d convinced yourself it would be easy to break off the whole sleeping with your best friend thing. You thought he’d be fine with going back to being just friends. 

“Hey,” Joaquin’s voice is softer than before, coaxing you into looking around at him. There’s concern etched into his features as he sits upright, “If you don’t want to do this anymore, that’s okay.” You bite down on the inside of your lip and swallow down the lump forming in your throat. 

“I just think you have a lot going on right now, Mr Falcon.” You’re deflecting, trying to play off the hurt in your voice and forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Joaquin smiles at you using his new title, but it fades just as quickly as it appeared. “I should probably go.”

“You don’t have to leave.” His reply comes before you’ve even finished. 

“I have that thing and I have to do some stuff, so I should,” you know that he can see right through you. You’ve been friends long enough to be able to read each other like a book. This isn’t how you usually act around each other; it’s odd and uncomfortable, but since you realised you had growing feelings for him, you haven’t been the same. 

It started simple, you worried about him every time he was on a mission, wondering if he’d come home in one piece or not. Then you felt tingly every time he sent a text to say he missed you. After a drunken night, you two had slipped into bed together, and suddenly you weren’t just friends. That began the craving for his touch. Not even in a sexual way, you just wanted to feel his hand on your back, his presence beside you, his head in your lap. You thought about him all the time, too. What was he doing, where was he, did he think about you? But it wasn’t until one of your friends mentioned the way you always lit up when you spoke about him that it all clicked. Instantly, you knew, after over a decade of friendship—and months of occasionally sleeping together—that you were completely head over heels for Joaquin. 

“I’ll- I- see you later,” you scoop up your remaining belongings that are strewn on the floor, haphazardly moving toward the door. Joaquin is moving behind you, softly calling your name as you beeline for the exit. You don’t even stop to put your shoes on, just grabbing them and swinging the door open. Joaquin’s right behind you, just out of arm's reach, and you know he knows something is wrong. You can’t bring yourself to look at him any longer, knowing every second you look, you fall a little bit deeper. The door shuts before Joaquin can reach you, the solid wood separating you both. You stood with your back against the door, taking deep breaths before snapping yourself back into reality. 

You are so fucked.

━━━

A week goes by, and you’ve barely spoken to Joaquin, let alone seen him. You use the excuse that Sam whisked him away for a few days to go on some scouting mission, but now you have no choice but to face the music. The day after they arrived back, Sam had invited a group of people, you included, to his place for a late afternoon barbecue, and you knew Joaquin would be there. 

As you're out on the deck chatting to this woman you’ve never met before, you see him, he saunters in full of confidence with a smile on his face. You can’t help but think about how much you’ve missed him, and it’s only been a week. Your eyes keep moving between him and the woman you’re desperately trying to focus on as she tells you something about her kids… or her cats? Joaquin is welcomed by a few people as he enters the garden, and he briefly stops to exchange pleasantries before moving on. He grows closer, and now you can’t quite drag your eyes away from him. You fight the urge to excuse yourself and immediately go to him like you usually would, but there’s a hidden tension between you both, and it keeps your feet planted where they are. Your attention snaps back to the woman in front of you when you register the tail end of her question. 

“You know what I mean?” You’re so glad she was too absorbed in her story to realise you weren’t paying attention. 

“Uh Huh, yeah!” You nod enthusiastically. 

“Speaking of my husband, I'd better go check that he’s not drinking all of Sam’s beer. It was nice meeting you!” The woman walks off in the direction of the kitchen, and you find yourself looking out to where you last saw Joaquin, but he’s nowhere to be seen. You sigh and lean against the railing, looking down at the gathering of people below. Knowingly searching for that familiar face. 

“You look exactly like a girl I know!” Suddenly, Joaquin is by your side, startling you as he casually leans his back against the railing. “Unfortunately, she went awol about a week ago, but you… You’re the spitting image.” You feel a heat grow from your chest and move upward to your face. He finally looks at you, a bright smile on his face, and sheepishly, you spin the ring on your finger. You can’t bring yourself to respond or even look at him, feeling terrible for your lack of communication. “Hey,” Joaquin nudges you with his elbow, and your head turns slightly in his direction, “I missed you.” That brings a smile to your face as well as an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. 

“I missed you, too.” Joaquin’s smile grows, and he lifts an arm out, signalling for you to fall into his arms like you always do. “I’m sorry for going awol,” you easily slip your arms around his waist as he tightens his around your shoulders. It’s like you can feel the tension disappear the longer you hold each other. 

“It’s okay, just don’t disappear like that again.” Your whole body shudders when you feel his lips on your temple, it’s almost like he knows what he’s doing to you. You’re convinced he can feel the way your heart is racing, so you pull back, keeping a smile plastered to your face. 

“I’m glad you managed to survive a week without me.” Joaquin laughs at your words, and it seems to relax you. He keeps his arm securely around you and pulls you in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Another few days and I would’ve been a goner.” It’s your turn to laugh, and the sound makes him grin, his hand squeezing your shoulder, “Come on, I need a drink.”

Just like that, you both fall back into stride with one another, laughing and eating, then drinking until the sun goes down. 

“I think he’s had enough,” Sam laughs as you all watch Joaquin stumble into the doorway on his way into the kitchen. 

“You’re the one who bet him $20 that he couldn’t shotgun a beer three times!” You point at Sam, laughing too. 

“It was twice! The kid’s just a lightweight.” Joaquin appears by your side, a goofy grin plastered to his face when he locks eyes with you. You can see just by the look in his eyes that he’s tired. 

“I am not a lightweight!” Joaquin’s mind slowly catches up, and he waves a finger at Sam, causing the few people in the room to chuckle. 

“Okay, well, prove it.” Sam slides another beer across the kitchen island, and your much less impaired reflexes stop it from slipping off the counter entirely. 

“Weren’t you just the one who said he’d had enough?” You quip, raising an eyebrow at Sam. 

“I don’t feel good.” Your head immediately whips around to Joaquin, concerned by his claim. His face scrunches up, and a hand comes up to his head. 

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Your hand reaches out to rub his arm, and he just groans in response. “Come on, I’ll take you.” You help him turn back the way he just came, his body swaying so much that you wrap your arm around him. “If he’s sick, you’re cleaning it up, Wilson!” You call out over your shoulder as you assist Joaquin to Sam’s spare room, a room you’ve crashed in a handful of times before. Sam hollers back a few expletives as you exit, but you choose to ignore him. Instead, your focus is now fully on Joaquin. He’s like a dead weight as he sinks more into you the further you walk. He’s all encompassing; the heaviness of his arm around your shoulders, the heat of his body, the strong scent of his aftershave, it’s almost overwhelming.

“Why did you drink so much?” He’s practically whining when you sit him down on the bed, his body swaying slightly. Cautiously, you remove your hands from him. 

“I had to.” You kneel in front of him and start undoing the laces of his shoes, but he is completely unwilling to assist you. He keeps his feet planted on the floor, making it difficult to get the shoes off. 

“You didn’t have to do anything.” You giggle when you look up to see his brow furrowed and his bottom lip jutted out. 

“I did,” he whines again, “had to forget.” 

“You’re not making sense,” he sounds like a small child who isn’t willing to share all the details of why they’re upset. You do your best to manoeuvre his legs up onto the bed now that you've got his shoes off. 

“I love you,” Joaquin whimpers as he finally helps to move his body to lie down. Meanwhile, now you’re frozen, just blinking at him, unsure what to do. “I love you so much, but I don’t think you love me.” 

You’re about a second away from calling Sam in here to clean up your puke. Joaquin’s words render you speechless while he remains unbothered, just snuggling into the pillow, ready to rest. Your mouth opens as if to talk, but only a shaky breath comes out. You stutter out his name but get no response; the man just voiced a deep, dark secret and then fell dead asleep. A sigh leaves you as you look at him, so peacefully unaware that he’s changed your entire life with one simple sentence. You pull a blanket from the bottom of the bed to cover his body and take another look at his face. For a moment, you allow yourself to indulge, your fingers reaching to brush against his cheek. He rubs his face against the pillow like a cat before letting out a deep sigh and relaxing again. 

“The bird brain must come with the suit.”

━━━

You’re startled awake by a hand on your shoulder, your eyes blinking a few times before Joaquin’s smiling face isn’t blurry. It takes your mind a minute to fully wake up, Joaquin’s words filtering through slowly. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He crouches down to be eye level with you. A sleepy smile crosses your face. “What are you doing sleeping on a very uncomfortable-looking chair?” You take a second to remember what led up to this moment, memories flooding back. 

“I was keeping an eye on you. I must have fallen asleep.” You straighten your back, feeling new aches as you stretch. “You were pretty drunk last night.” There’s a grin on his face that you mirror. 

“Yeah, I have a headache to prove it,” he chuckles. 

“Did you-“ he cuts you off before you can even finish. 

“Yes, I took the Advil and chugged the water.” You settle back in the chair, although you don’t relax as you feel Joaquin’s hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth. It makes your heart rate spike. “Thank you for taking care of me, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know that’s what makes me so nice,” you say in a cheery tune, and without thinking, your hand reaches up to smooth back some of the hair that had fallen in his eyes. Joaquin lets out a satisfied sigh when your fingertips press against his scalp. 

“Oh, keep doing that,” he manoeuvres his body to sit at your feet, easily making space for himself between your legs and placing his head in your lap. “‘feels good.” You obey his request, combing your fingers through his hair and enjoying the way his eyes shut softly at your touch. You stay locked together like this for a moment before your brain ultimately begins overthinking. Like he can sense it, Joaquin speaks up, “Why didn’t you just sleep in the bed? It’s not like we haven’t done that before.” He keeps his head planted in your lap, his eyes still shut, he looks so relaxed, but your head swims with anxiety. 

“I told you I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You try to keep your voice steady, convincing yourself that you wouldn’t have rather slept right next to him last night instead of this crappy little chair. 

“So you would’ve slept with me given the choice?” You choke on nothing but air, and Joaquin peeks an eye open before a short chuckle escapes him.

You clear your throat and put on a snarky tone, “I like you better when you’re sleeping.”

━━━

“Please come to dinner,” Joaquin whines, clapping his hands together like he’s praying. “You know that my mom loves you, and you can be my buffer.”

“Buffer for what?” You laugh at Joaquin’s dramatic flair, “Actually, no! Your mom has come here to visit you, not me.” 

“Please, you know she’s going to grill me about my personal life and all this new Avengers stuff.” He now waves his hands in the air, making sure to punctuate every word, “plus she’s been asking about you, so it’s a win-win situation.” You look at Joaquin, pretending to think it over, but your facade fades when he gives you a comically wide smile. You can never find it in you to say no to him, especially when he looks at you like that.

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes when Joaquin overexcitedly begins celebrating, “but you’re making tamales!”

You’re stunned when Joaquin’s lips come in contact with your cheek, but you play it off with a small chuckle. 

“You got it!” Joaquin starts walking backwards, the biggest grin on his face as he points at you, “I’ll see you tomorrow at 6!”

━━━

“Hey!” Joaquin immediately pulls you over the threshold into a tight hug. You barely manage to breathe out a small hi before he’s dragging you into his apartment and presenting you in front of his mother. You pretty much get the same treatment from her; she squeals your name before rushing out of the kitchen. Her arms are around you in a second, and you giggle at her welcome. Immediately, she begins asking you questions, not even allowing you a second to answer before she’s onto the next. She directs you to sit on the couch next to her, and she keeps your hands cupped in hers. 

Joaquin’s mother has always treated you as if you were one of her own. When you were younger and you’d come over to hang out with Joaquin, she’d ensure you were always fed before leaving. She always included you in family outings or Sunday dinners. She was like a second mother to you, and you were always grateful that she loved you so sincerely. 

“Ma, come on, if you’re gonna ask a question, you’ve got to leave room for an answer.” Joaquin interrupts only for his mother to tut and wave him off. You grin when you see Joaquin roll his eyes and shake his head as he moves back to the kitchen. 

“You look good, cariño.” One of her hands strokes your face before cupping your cheek, “Oh, te he extrañado.” You smile so much that your cheeks hurt. You’ve been around Joaquin and his family long enough to have picked up more than a few words in Spanish, and you’ve become somewhat okay at following a conversation in the language. Joaquin interrupts again, calling for his mom to help in the kitchen. She sighs and mumbles to herself, asking how he manages to survive without her, before she moves off to help. 

Only seconds later, Joaquin comes through the kitchen door, his hands raised in surrender, and you can hear his mom telling him off for something. 

“I am not allowed in the kitchen anymore.” He plops down beside you on the couch, resting an arm behind you. 

“What did you do?” You stifle a giggle because you can still hear his mom muttering loudly. 

“I may have burnt her rice a little.” He winces when he says it, and you laugh, remembering the day his mom made him make multiple pots of rice until he got it right. Joaquin complained for a week straight about his arms aching from all the work. 

“You’re never going to be allowed in the kitchen again,” you both laugh, and your head absentmindedly rests back against his arm as the noise dies out. Your heart thumps in your chest at the way he looks down at you. For a second, it feels like you’re being drawn together, an invisible force pulling you both in. You can’t help it when your eyes flicker to his lips; it’s been too long since you’ve kissed him, and your mind berates you for giving that up. You swear he can read your mind because now he’s looking at your lips, and you're convinced he’s getting closer. 

“Come sit!” You both jump apart like two teenagers caught with the bedroom door shut as his mother's voice sounds through the apartment, “The food’s ready.”

You feel happy, and your appetite is sated. You’ve always enjoyed being around Joaquin and his family. It’s a side of your friend that not many get to see. He’s shyer in his mother’s company, not so cocky and over the top but still very much himself. He tells wild stories, going into great detail, and he manages to command the room whether there are 2 or 200 people. But he’s still just that shy kid at his core, the one who clams up when his mom brings up how unorganised his apartment is or how he needs to visit home more often. 

“Mi corazón, when are you going to find a nice girl and give me grand babies?” Joaquin’s mom suddenly blurts out as he refills your glass. He almost spills the drink all over the table at the shock of his mother's words. 

“Ay mami, not this again!” Joaquin groans, a hand coming up to scrub over his face. 

“What?” She looks at you confused before opening her mouth again, “It doesn’t have to be a girl. You want to meet a nice boy?” 

“Ma!” The pair delve into their native language, arguing about the topic while you sit with a hand covering your mouth. Joaquin takes one look at you and you almost lose it, stifling your giggles behind your hand. 

His mother says your name and instantly stops your amusement. “You would both make beautiful grandchildren.” Your eyes go wide, looking at Joaquin and seeing a look of embarrassment wash over him. It’s not the first time someone has said something like that about you both, insisting that you’d both be a good couple, that you should be together. They even did it one time when Joaquin had just introduced his family to his girlfriend of 6 months years ago. 

Joaquin’s chair scrapes against the floor, and in an instant, he’s on his feet. 

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough!” His hand grabs the almost empty wine glass that sits on the table in front of his mother. He picks up more dishes as she begins to protest, and they argue more. You decide to help with clearing the table, really just trying to avoid being brought into the conversation again. The pair don’t seem to notice you slip away from the table and go towards the kitchen. You can still hear them arguing in the other room as you begin to place the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. 

“She’s going to kill me if she sees you doing dishes.” Joaquin stands in the doorway, holding more dishes in his hands. “It’s the least I can do,” you say while continuing to fill the dishwasher. Joaquin begins assisting you until all of the dishes are put away. 

“Thank you,” Joaquin holds out an arm, hooking it around your shoulders and pulling you into him. You sink into his hold, your arms coming around his waist. It’s almost like you feel his body relax the second you’re pressed together. “You don’t have to thank me for doing the dishes, I told you it’s the least I could do.”

“I’m not talking about that.” His other arm circles around your shoulders, and now he hugs you tightly. His chin comes to rest on the top of your head, “I mean, just thank you. For being here, for everything.” You pull back to look at him, and suddenly you’re hit by an overwhelming feeling. It leaves you frozen, looking up at Joaquin’s bright eyes that stare back at you. There’s a second where his gaze falls downward; had you blinked, you would’ve missed it, but you didn’t, you saw the way he looked at your lips. Now you’re copying him, glancing at his lips, and your breath hitches when you feel his hand come in contact with your cheek. Fingers slowly and deliberately brushing against your skin, your lips part, and a shaky breath escapes you. Joaquin’s eyes keep darting across your face, and your mind races at the close proximity. Your hands slide around to rest on his sides, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor you to him. You both seem to move in slowly, foreheads gently pressing together, and Joaquin nudges his chin towards yours. His lips barely brush yours, breaths mixing for a few seconds. It’s like he’s waiting for you to decide, like he wants to know if you want this too. It would be so easy to kiss him right now, but what would that mean? Guilt begins to wrack through your body. He doesn’t know that you know, you don’t even know if he meant what he said at Sam’s house. 

“I-I,” You stutter out, preparing yourself to ask him if he meant it, but your lack of conviction throws Joaquin. He pulls away from you almost instantly, and you feel a shiver run through your body.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, and you feel your heart splinter. “No, no, I just need to-” You’re cut off when Joaquin’s mom enters the kitchen, and you both instantly act like what just happened didn’t happen. 

“I cannot believe you would leave your precious mami alone at the dinner table.” She remarks, tapping her hand against Joaquin’s cheek. “I left you your wine glass, didn’t I?” Joaquin quips, directing his attention to his mother now. He slips an arm around his mother’s shoulders and turns her back out of the kitchen. They fall into a conversation and leave you standing, lost in your thoughts, alone in the kitchen.

You’ve messed up, and you don’t know how to fix it.

━━━

You waited until his mom returned to Miami to attempt to bring up the topic of that night, but every time you tried, Joaquin seemed to change the subject. He then seemed to be avoiding you; his messages grew further apart, and his reasoning for not hanging out became less believable as the days went on. It soon turned into weeks of not seeing one another, and your heart ached. You wanted things to go back to normal.

“You ready?” Sam’s voice filters through your thoughts, and you look up at him, a half-hearted smile on your face when you see his hand outstretched toward you. Your head nods as you take his hand and stand from your chair.

Sam had been invited to a big fancy charity gala, and he had asked you to be his plus one, something that you cautiously accepted. It was a big deal to be seen alongside the Captain America, and you knew that Sam had asked you because it would be good for his public image. That and people knew you were both close friends, and nothing more, minus a few stray publications that liked to stir up drama at any given moment.

“You look good.” Sam compliments you once you’re both in the car, and the driver takes off for your destination, you turn to smile at your friend. “Thanks, you don’t look half bad yourself.” Sam swipes his hands against his lapels, clearly feeling himself in that moment. 

The rest of the car journey is quiet, just the sounds of the street outside and the radio that quietly lulls through the speakers. It’s completely the opposite when you step out of the car; there’s a carpet to walk on, and photographers line both sides. Nerves creep in when you take in the sea of people and all the flashing lights, but Sam’s there to help you along. You’re glad when his assistant only makes you stand in a handful of photos; you can already see the headlines that those specific tabloids will make up by morning. You mostly get to stand on the sidelines, watching Sam pose for pictures, and you actually begin to enjoy yourself. You get a laugh out of Sam’s natural charisma when he answers questions in interviews or when he tells the cameras to get his good side. You’re almost done with the carpet when you hear commotion behind you, your gaze falls to the source, and you’re surprised by what you see. Joaquin stands tall in a stunning forest green suit, and you’re genuinely left speechless. Cameras snap pictures of him, then there’s a commotion again when he lifts a hand out to the side, and your smile falls when you see a beautiful woman emerge from the crowd of people on the carpet. She stops at Joaquin’s side, tucking herself under his arm, and they look into each other’s eyes a little too longingly. They pose for pictures together, her hand comes to rest on his chest before she tucks away a stray curl from the side of his face. They appear to exchange words before she giggles at whatever was said, and suddenly, you feel sick. You can’t seem to drag your eyes away from the pair as they move up the carpet together. You feel a tightness spread through your chest, and your clothes suddenly feel like they're restricting your ability to breathe. You can feel all the joy drain from your body, and suddenly the ground feels as if it’s crumbling under you. 

“You alright?” Sam’s hand cups your elbow, pulling your attention to him, and you try to open your mouth to say something, but you only manage to take in a stuttered breath. Your hands feel shaky, and your eyes sting. Sam doesn’t wait for an answer when he sees your distressed state. He’s subtle in the way he manoeuvres you inside, out of the paparazzi's beady eyes. You’re not even sure where you’re going, eyes glued to the ground as your head swims with thoughts. 

“Take a deep breath.” You can hear Sam’s voice, but it feels far away. “Hey, eyes on me.” You look up, overwhelmed to see you’re somewhere else, somewhere unknown. Then your eyes find Sam’s, and he instructs you again to take a deep breath. This time, you try. Sam follows suit; you mirror each other, taking deep breaths until Sam sees you coming back to yourself. “What’s going on with you two?” You’re taken aback by the question, your gaze falling downwards. He doesn’t even have to say his name for you to know who he’s talking about.

“It’s nothing.” You mutter quietly, wringing your hands together as if the nervous tick wouldn’t give you away.

“You just had a panic attack at the sight of him. It’s not nothing.” Sam speaks sternly, and when you look up at him again, his eyebrow is raised; there’s no chance you’re leaving here without telling him the truth.

You can’t look at him when you speak, tears welling in your eyes again. “I’m in love with him.” Sam’s the first person you’ve admitted that to, and if you weren’t in your current predicament, you’d maybe feel slightly relieved by the admission. Sam goes to respond, but you cut him off, feeling the need to give him all the information. “And we’ve been sleeping together.” Sam can’t hide his surprise at that confession, and you find yourself tripping over your words, unable to stop the word vomit. “I mean, we were until I told him we should stop. And then you remember your barbecue a few weeks back?” Sam nods, listening to every word. “Well, when I put him to bed, he told me he loved me, but he was drunk, so he didn’t mean it right?” Sam tries to interrupt, but you just keep going. “Then I think we almost kissed the other week, but I stopped him because I felt guilty for not talking to him about what he said at your house. We’ve barely spoken in the last week, now he’s here with-with.” You can’t bring yourself to admit it, to say he’s moved on to someone else, that he looks happy without you. “ I messed up, I messed up so bad, Sam.” Your head falls into your hands, and embarrassment seeps into your mind. This was not the time or place to have such a breakdown.

“Are you done?” Sam waits a beat to ask his question since you interrupted his prior efforts to speak. You can’t even will yourself to speak again, fearing you’ll make this all worse. So, you lift your head, sheepishly looking at Sam before nodding. “You two are the most oblivious people I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of idiots.” His hand rests on your shoulder, and he cranes his neck down to force eye contact. Your brows join together at his words, but he pauses your stream of thoughts. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Sam pats your shoulder before turning away from you and leaving abruptly. 

Now that you’re left alone, your eyes scan the foreign room. It’s just a small side room, close enough to the foyer that you can still hear the roar of people on the carpet and in the building. It’s dimly lit, but you can make out the few pieces of art hanging on the walls and some scattered pieces of furniture. You find a chair tucked into an alcove near the door, and sit, your foot nervously tapping against the marble floor. The wait feels never-ending. You’re not even sure where Sam was going, what he was doing or why he had you wait here. Did he just want you to get yourself together so you could go out there and do what you were here to do?

The clicking of your heel stops the second you hear the door open. “Careful, man, do you know how expensive this suit was?” You swear your heart stops when you hear Joaquin’s voice. You will the ground to open up and eat you whole, the last thing you want is for Joaquin to see you like this. The pair fully enter the room, and Sam closes the door behind him. “What was so important that I couldn’t finish my conversation?” Joaquin’s voice dies out when his eyes lock on yours, and that sick feeling washes over you again. 

“You,” Sam points in your direction, “up.” You listen to his instruction, standing from the chair as they approach you. Sam has a hand wrapped around Joaquin’s bicep, directing him toward you. Joaquin says a few words, but Sam stops him, holding a hand in the air to silence him. He drops both his hands at his sides before he speaks again. “You two need to talk. Figure out whatever is going on here.” Joaquin keeps his eyes on Sam, looking at him with confusion, which makes Sam roll his eyes. “You are in love with him.” Sam gestures at you, then Joaquin. “And you are in love with her.” He does the opposite now. “Now figure your shit out.” Sam immediately turns and begins to step towards the door. “Where the hell are you going?” Joaquin raises his voice. “Well, I’ve got a better chance with your date than with mine. So, I’ll be out there mingling.” He says matter-of-factly before turning away again and leaving the room permanently.

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. It’s so uncomfortable to be like this with your best friend. The silence is eating you alive. Joaquin hasn’t even looked at you since Sam’s proclamation. 

“You two looked good together.” You cringe the second the words leave your mouth, and you look anywhere but at him, even when you know his eyes are finally on you again. “She’s not- She’s just someone from work. I got paired with her for the gala. It’s just a publicity stunt.” Joaquin replies quickly, and you catch him fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. “She’s nice but she’s not…” his sentence trails off, and your eyes finally fall on him. He looks even better this close up; it makes your thoughts falter. “Not what?” You cautiously ask, slightly scared of the answer. There’s a moment's silence before he finishes his thought. “Well, she’s not you.” He breathes out, and with your eyes on him, you see the nervousness written all over his face. 

“Did you mean it?” The words come out before you can fully register them, and your heart races the closer you are to the answer. “Mean what?” Confusion crosses his features at your question, and you have to swallow down your fear. You’re in this now; it’s now or never. “You told me you loved me, and you didn’t think I felt the same.” Joaquin’s eyes widen, but you continue. “You were drunk, and if you didn’t mean it, that’s okay.” 

“I meant it.” He interrupts, not allowing you to finish whatever you were going to say. Silence envelops you both again. Your mind races, never once had you entertained the idea that he would be in love with you. Not even after he had admitted it to your face. Now you’re unsure where to go from here. 

“I have loved you for a long time.” You look at him with wide eyes, Joaquin’s now the one trying to look anywhere but at you. “When you didn’t mention it that morning, I convinced myself it was a dream.” His eyes are glassy, and you can feel your stomach sinking. “I thought when you cut things off, that you didn’t feel the same. I thought-“

“Stop thinking.” You’re rushing toward him before you can convince yourself otherwise. Your hands go to his face, and finally, after so long, your lips are pressed together again. You’re rushing through it, whereas Joaquin’s slow. His hands hesitantly rest on your hips, and you can feel how tense he is just by being near him. 

“Wait.” You pull your face away the second you hear him speak, but your hands stay put on either side of his face. You’re still close enough to feel his breath on your face. “What does this mean?” Joaquin sounds so meek, and if this were any other situation, you might have laughed. Instead, you look at him and try to convey the emotions that you feel for him. When that doesn’t seem enough, you open your mouth to speak. “It means I love you, too.” Joaquin’s the one who surges forward this time, he kisses you with fervour now. It knocks all the air out of your lungs, and you cling to him like never before. His arms slip around your back, pulling you flush against him now. The kiss quickly becomes passionate, your tongues mingling as your chests heave. Your hand slips into his hair, messing up the styled locks immediately. 

“Hold on.” Joaquin retreats again; he sounds out of breath when he speaks, and your hazy brain becomes confused. Was this not what you both wanted? “No, no. Just give me a second.” He kisses you again as if he can see the panic in your eyes, but you’re still confused when Joaquin moves away from you. A chill hits you now that his warmth isn’t encompassing you. You watch as Joaquin goes to the door, opening it just enough for his head to fit, and he looks out as if he’s surveying the area. Then he’s shutting the door again, and there’s an echoed click before he turns back to you. 

“What are you doing?” You ask curiously as he approaches you. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” The moment he’s close enough, he reaches for you, arms securing around your waist. His hands rest on your back as he dives in for another kiss, this time with the confidence you’re used to. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, under the lapels of his jacket, and you're pushing the clothing off his shoulders somewhat absentmindedly. Joaquin dominates the kiss easily, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he walks you backwards. You bump into the arm of the chair you had perched on earlier, and you break apart momentarily to giggle as Joaquin apologises. His hand comes up to hold the back of your head just before your back comes in contact with a wall. Your lips part once again, both panting as you observe one another. 

“Is this okay?” Joaquin’s confidence falters momentarily, but you don’t allow his doubt to creep in. Immediately, you nod your head before speaking. “This…This is all I’ve thought about for months.” A grin spreads over his face, and his head falls to your shoulder as if he’s suddenly gotten all shy. “Months, really?” His breath hits your neck and causes a shiver to run through your body. Then, as you open your mouth to speak, he presses his lips to your neck, and your breath hitches this time. You make room for him, your head lolling to the side as he continues to kiss along the column of your neck. “Probably since that first night you kissed me.” Your words come out ragged as his hands move along your body with newfound confidence. “Really?” His head raises, and he looks down at you. There’s a dark glint in his eyes, a look you’re somewhat familiar with but haven’t seen in quite some time. You nod your head hastily before you’re dragging him back in. One hand pulls him by the back of the neck while the other tugs on his dress shirt. Your lips are on his once again, you part only for a moment to speak. “I think it’s obvious that I want you. Now, are you going to do anything about it?” It’s Joaquin’s turn to pull you in; he kisses you with passion as his wandering hands attempt to manoeuvre your clothing. Gasps fall past your lips when only moments later, his fingers expertly slip into your underwear. Joaquin pulls his head back, a smirk plastered to his face as he takes in your reaction to his touch. He breathes heavily as he watches the way you keen for him the second he slips a finger into you. Your whole body rises, hands clinging to Joaquin as he finds the perfect rhythm. It’s a blessing and a curse that he already knows all the ways to please you, and he seems to take great joy in that fact. His name slips out of your mouth, mixed with a choked moan. 

“I’m here. I’ve got you.” He kisses your cheek, then along your jaw until he makes his way back to your neck. He slows his hand and eases another digit into you. Your breathing stutters, and instinctively, your leg raises, knee resting against his hip. Joaquin’s free hand moves along your thigh, holding the flesh firmly in place. The new angle has Joaquin’s palm grinding against your clit and the feeling becomes overwhelming when he picks up the pace. His fingers rock into you quicker now, and you pull him closer, your arm now wrapped around the back of his neck. You had tried to muffle your moans, biting down hard on your lip, but eventually they began to slip through the cracks. You had to clasp your hand over your mouth to suppress a particularly loud moan. “Is that it, baby? That feel good?” His voice is muffled, vibrating against your neck. He pulls back after he says it, a dark look in his eyes. An embarrassingly piercing noise escapes you when your eyes fall on his face. A few stray curls fall into his eyes, and impulsively, your hand moves up to push them back. Your fingers barely press against his scalp, but it’s enough for his eyes to flutter shut for just a second, his pace faltering too. 

“I love you.” The words slip out when your eyes lock with his, and you watch a smile grow on his face. Joaquin shifts forward, a chaste kiss pressed to your lips. “I love you.” He reassures before kissing you again, and that’s enough to bring you to the precipice. Your hand grips his shoulder agonisingly tight while the other slips into his hair. The groan he lets out when your fingers accidentally tug on his curls sends you straight over the edge. You tug him forward, pressing your head into his neck as your body is wracked with pleasure. This time feels different to all the times before, something about the confessions of love that made this orgasm feel more intense than the others. Your mind feels dizzy, your fingers ache from how hard you’re gripping onto him, and the blood pumping in your ears is deafening. 

“I got you. I got you, angel.” Your mind had gone blank, but Joaquin’s gentle voice slowly pulled you back. He quietly shushes you when you whine as he gradually slips his fingers from you. “It’s okay, baby. Just hold on for me.” Lazily, you lift your head until it rolls back, thudding against the wall. Immediately, Joaquin’s brows pull together, and the hand that was resting on your leg comes up to the back of your neck. “Hey, careful!” A dopey grin appears on your face as you look up at him. He catches you staring, and the concern that was just etched into his features disappears instantly. 

“You love me.” You’re beaming when you speak, your brain still in a hazy post orgasmic state. His lips curved upwards, and his light chuckle echoed in the room. “Yeah. I really do. And you love me.” His thumb brushes against your cheek, and there are a few seconds where you both just stare into one another’s eyes. “Always.” You both lean in, lips brushing together until a loud banging pulls you apart. You both look at the source before Joaquin turns back to you. “Stay there.” He presses another kiss to your lips before he moves away. The lack of his presence sobers you up instantly, your logical brain kicking in. Your hands move quickly to fix your ruffled clothing as Joaquin unlocks the door and opens it to reveal Sam. Joaquin had tried to only open the door a fraction, but Sam’s able to push it open further without much effort. 

“When I told you to figure your shit out I didn’t mean trigger the security to a possible safety risk.” The colour drains from your face at Sam’s words. “So, you just didn’t want me ruining your fancy suit, is that what it was?” Sam laughs, smoothing out the shoulder of Joaquin’s suit jacket that now has considerable creases in the fabric. Heat creeps up your neck the more Sam teases. “Clean yourselves up and keep it in your pants until you get home.” Sam looks between you both, pointing a finger at Joaquin for the latter part of his statement. “Unless you want SWAT breaking down the door next.” 

Finally, the ridiculousness of the whole situation catches up to you, and you have to cover your mouth as you giggle. Joaquin and Sam look at you for a second before letting out chuckles themselves. Sam slaps a hand down on Joaquin’s shoulder, “I’ll see you out there.” Then he’s gone, and Joaquin clicks the door shut again. 

“Stop laughing, " Joaquin says, chuckling as he approaches you. Joaquin’s words only make you laugh more. It’s only when he stops in front of you once again that they die out. His hands slip onto your waist, and his head falls onto your shoulder. Instinctively, your fingers find their way into his hair again, and he just allows you to hold him tenderly for a moment. 

“I missed you.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear it. Your heart aches for just a moment, you had both wasted so much time. You repeat his words back to him before placing a kiss to the side of his head. Joaquin straightens his back, looking down at you again. There’s a look of joy spread across his face, it’s infectious and soon enough, you’re grinning as you look in his eyes. Joaquin leans in to place a single kiss on your lips before he pulls away. You watch with amusement as he adjusts his trousers before he offers his arm to you. Happily, you link your arm through his, and you take a second to look at him again. “Eres tan hermosa,” he smiles softly as his free hand comes up to hold your cheek, and suddenly you feel shy. Your gaze falls away as you lean further into his hand, and Joaquin moves to kiss your slightly pouted lips. He takes his time with the first kiss, then changes to give you a few quick pecks.

“You know my mom’s going to lose her mind when she hears about this.” Joaquin chuckles as he pulls away, his hand falling from your face. You giggle in response before a wave of panic hits you. “Please do not tell her about how this happened!” Your eyes go wide, and it takes a second for Joaquin to register what you mean. Then he’s laughing, “No! No way! Definitely not.” Now you’re laughing, finding his amusement infectious. “Okay, good.” Joaquin takes a step, and you immediately follow, but you halt right as Joaquin’s hand rests on the door handle. You mumble about needing to fix his tie before freeing your arm from his. Your hands delicately flatten the shirt beneath his jacket before adjusting his tie. He keeps his eyes on your relaxed face the whole time, his hands coming to rest on your waist as you fix his collar. 

“I love you.” The words come out of his mouth with ease, a tender smile on his face. Your eyes move up to his, and this time, you feel butterflies in your stomach when you look at him. You push up on your tiptoes so your lips touch his again. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to you saying that.” Your feet rest back on the ground,d and you go back to Joaquin’s side, looping your arm back through his. You reach for the door handle now, slowly swinging the door open before you both step out. 

Suddenly, you feel lighter, like a weight has been lifted. Joaquin’s presence beside you feels so natural, like he was always meant to be there. He looks at you with nothing but love in his eyes. There’s something so precious about the way your heart feels when he looks at you now. You don’t have to second-guess your feelings or the way you act around him. He makes it so easy to feel like this is the way things have always been; his hand in yours, a secret kiss when he thinks no one is watching, or a few whispered compliments, it all feels like it’s meant to be. 

[wordsofwhimsy]

Irresistible

Pairing: Shiesty!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: Mannn, ol' buddy knocks your brain outcha head - you know what it is

Tags: Smut, not much else to say LMAO that's all you finna find here

Word Count: 1,006

Synopsis: It is LITERALLY just smut, i ain't lyin' to y'all. come get that good nuck nuck & leave me alone lmfaooo

The room smelled of sex, sweat, and the undeniable dominance of Mark as he fucked you into oblivion. You were pinned under him, legs spread wide and pinned back damn near to your chest, eyes barely open from the intensity of it all. Your body was on fire, drenched in sweat, and yet Mark was just so smooth, grinding into you with the kind of rhythm that made your mind feel like it was melting. He wasn’t even trying to hide it — he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was loving it.

“Yo, look at that,” Mark muttered to himself, glancing down between your bodies. “You see that? You feel that?” His voice was thick with pride and satisfaction. “I’m so deep in your stomach, I can see it. I can literally see myself in you. Damn, bae, you’re lucky you’re getting this.”

Your head was spinning, but his words — his cocky tone — was so goddamn arrogant, it was almost unbearable. You could barely think straight, but somehow, his voice kept cutting through the haze of pleasure. He slowed his pace just to drive you crazy, making sure you felt every single inch of him as he stared down at where your bodies met.

“Look at that shit,” Mark continued, a smug grin on his face as he shifted, angling himself deeper inside you. “I I know you see this.” He pounded into you harder, pushing you further up the bed. “I’m putting it down crazy. No one else could fuck you like this. I’m fuckin' you into the next level.”

You couldn’t even respond — couldn’t form a coherent thought if you tried. Your entire body was reacting to him, shaking with every brutal thrust, every harsh movement that made your body tremble and your walls clench around him.

Mark paused again, his hand slipping down to your stomach as he felt the way you were taking him, just so deep, just so fucking full. “Damn, I know you feel that,” he grinned. “Shit, I can feel it. I can feel every inch of me inside you. I’m all the way in there. You’re lucky I’m the one giving it to you like this.”

You barely managed to drag your eyes open, looking up at him — and all you could see was that cocky grin on his face, the sheer pride he had in his ability to fuck you so good. He didn’t even wait for a response because he knew. He knew you were his, completely lost in him, like you were made to take every last inch of him.

“Shit, I’m killing this shit, ain’t I?” Mark chuckled, fucking into you harder now. His confidence was almost too much, but damn if it didn’t make you want more. He didn’t care about anything other than how good he felt, how much control he had over you. “Look at you. Can barely keep your eyes open. You don’t even know what to say, huh? All you can do is feel me puttin’ it down.”

Your mind was spinning. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess. Mark’s cock was unreal, hitting all the right places, but it wasn’t just the sex — it was his arrogance, his self-assurance that made your heart race, your body ache for him even more. He was so sure of himself, so confident in his abilities that it made you crave him more.

“Gah damn, babe,” Mark said, his voice low and rough, his eyes locked on yours as he leaned down, his mouth next to your ear. “I’m fuckin’ you so good, you’re gonna feel this shit for days. Don’t even worry. You’re not gonna forget this. Nobody fucks you like I do.”

You moaned hard, the sound almost hurting your throat, but Mark wasn’t letting up. His cock was relentless, each thrust more powerful than the last. His hands were all over you, his fingers gripping your hips like he was about to break you apart.

“You’re about to cum on me, huh?” Mark grinned down at you, seeing the way your body was trembling, the way your chest was rising and falling with every breath you took. “Bet you didn’t think you’d be screaming my name tonight. Bet you didn’t think you’d be begging me for more. But here you are.”

You couldn’t even think of a response. You couldn’t even care to roll your eyes. Mark was just... too good. And he knew it. He didn’t need your affirmation. He was too absorbed in himself, too cocky, but it was that cockiness that made him irresistible.

“Tell me, baby,” Mark whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice full of dark, confident amusement. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Say it. I wanna hear it. I wanna hear you admit it. I’m the best you’ve ever had. You’re never gonna forget this.”

You gasped, body shaking as you finally let go, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you saw stars. You couldn’t even form words, your body writhing, every inch of you tightening around him as he kept fucking you, pushing you through it, making sure you felt every damn second of it.

Mark’s cock twitched inside you, and with a final, forceful thrust, he came, filling you completely as he groaned, his body shuddering with the release. You felt him claiming you, and he didn’t stop until every last bit of him was empty inside you.

Breathing heavily, he pulled out, giving you a satisfied, almost arrogant look. “Told you I’d put it down crazy, didn’t I?” he said, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he watched you, still catching your breath. “You’re never gonna forget that. I just ruined you. You’re mine now.”

You were too far gone to say anything. Too exhausted, too high off what he just did to even bother with a response. But he didn’t need one — Mark Grayson knew exactly how he’d wrecked you, and the cocky bastard was pleased as hell with himself.

[wendichester]

Can i request a deanXsamXreader and she’s just in need of comfort from them because she’s going through a bad depressive episode?

⊹ ࣪ ˖ where the light gets in,

summary. you've been feeling down lately. sam and dean are not about to let that slide by.

pairing. sam + dean winchester x reader genre. comfort

wordcount. 427

notes / warnings. depression, emotional numbness

It’s not even raining, but the world feels gray. Not the dramatic kind of gray—just dull, like someone turned the saturation all the way down and forgot to put it back.

You haven’t gotten out of bed all day. Not really. You tried once, made it to the bathroom, then crawled back under the covers like a ghost slipping back into the dark.

There’s no specific reason. That’s the worst part. No demon attack. No cursed object. No bloody hunt gone sideways. Just… a weight. One that settled on your chest last week and hasn’t moved since.

The knock is soft, careful. Dean’s voice even more so. “Sweetheart?”

You don’t answer. You want to. You want to say “come in” or “I’m fine” or even “go away,” but all of it gets stuck somewhere between your ribs and your throat.

The door creaks open anyway. You don’t mind. It’s Dean. And Sam right behind him. You’d know the way they fill a room even with your eyes closed.

Dean doesn’t ask questions. He just kneels beside the bed, one calloused hand smoothing your hair back, thumb brushing your temple like he’s checking for fever. Like maybe he can fix it if he just touches you gently enough.

“You’re here,” you croak. It’s pathetic. It’s everything.

“Of course we’re here.” Sam’s voice is low, grounding. “You didn’t answer our texts. We got worried.”

You almost apologize. You want to. But what spills out instead is, “I feel like nothing. I feel like I don’t matter. Like I’m just taking up space and wasting air.”

Silence. A beat.

Then Dean says, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

You blink.

“You matter,” he says firmly. “You’re not a burden. You’re not invisible. You’re family. You hear me?”

Sam crawls into bed behind you, wrapping himself around your back like a giant human heater. His arms circle your waist, his breath warm against your neck. “You don’t have to pretend. Not with us.”

Dean slides in on the other side, tugging the covers back over you all. It’s a pile of limbs and worn-out love, and it shouldn't work—but it does.

“You don’t have to fix it today,” Dean murmurs, nose brushing your cheek. “Hell, you don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. We just want you here.”

“You can be sad,” Sam whispers. “You can be messy. We’ll hold you through it.”

And so you cry. Quiet, ugly tears that soak Dean’s shirt and make your chest ache. You cry because it hurts, and because they’re here, and because somehow you’d forgotten what it felt like to be seen.

They don’t rush you. They don’t flinch. They just hold you tighter.

And for the first time in days, you believe them.

Maybe you’re not okay yet. But you're not alone. And that counts for something.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[mintyys-blog]

I am requesting cold hard angst for Shiesty! Where he is forced to watch his girlfriend die to her terminal illness, where he does everything he can to try and save her but is just wasting what little time he has left with her, and her dying but reassuring him it’s okay and that she’s dying knowing he loved her and that’s good enough for her.

…if you could also do small part of how he tries to move on but just can’t and cries over all her stuff she left behind! Please and thank you! ❤️‍🩹

FADED | sheisty mark x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: character death

The room was cold, sterile — a prison built of white walls and humming machines. The air was heavy with antiseptic and quiet dread. Shiesty sat by her bedside, exhausted, broken, trying to anchor himself to the tiny warmth of her frail hand in his.

Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and beneath it, the rapid, shallow breaths she took sounded like a countdown he was powerless to stop.

He swallowed hard, voice tight when he finally spoke. “There has to be something—there has to be a way to stop this.”

She turned her head slightly toward him, eyes glassy but still filled with the soft light that had always been her.

“You did everything,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. “You fought for me.”

He shook his head, fingers gripping hers like a lifeline he was afraid to lose. “It’s not enough. It’s never enough. I’m supposed to protect you. Fix this.”

Her lips curved into a tired smile. “I know. And I’m sorry. But you can’t fix this.”

A jagged sob tore from his throat. His other hand covered hers, desperate to hold on—not just to her body, but to every moment left between them.

“You’re not supposed to leave me,” he said, voice cracking like glass breaking. “Not like this.”

Her eyes flickered with a tenderness that felt like a last gift. “You loved me. That’s what mattered.”

Tears blurred his vision as she squeezed his hand weakly.

“Promise me you won’t forget.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, feeling the thinness of her bones, the faint warmth slipping away.

“I promise. I’ll never forget.”

She exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering closed, and the beeping machines took on a slower, more solemn rhythm.

His world collapsed around him in silence as her hand went limp in his.

He stayed there long after they told him to leave—holding the ghost of her warmth, drowning in the cold that would never leave.

He didn’t remember walking out of the hospital. Didn’t remember how he got back to the apartment—their apartment.

All he knew was that the lights were off, the bed was too big, and her mug was still sitting in the sink like she’d only just used it.

Mark stood in the doorway, staring at the small things she left behind. The things that used to annoy him—the clutter, the mismatched socks, the way she always stole the blankets.

He used to sigh, roll his eyes, tease her.

Now he’d give anything to feel her cold toes on his legs at 3 a.m.

He collapsed onto the couch, fingers digging into the cushion she used to curl up against. The tears came quietly at first. Then not at all. It was worse somehow—the numbness.

The hollowness where her voice should’ve been.

“You forgot to water the plants again, dummy.”

“You stress-clean when you’re upset.”

“You always act like the world’s ending, but you’re soft. You just hide it.”

The memories weren’t gentle. They didn’t float in like comfort. They stabbed.

A flash—her smile, during a late-night gas station run. She was in his hoodie, dancing stupidly in the parking lot with a cherry slush in hand. He didn’t even remember what song was playing. Just her laughter echoing off the pavement.

He’d taken it for granted. That she’d always be there.

Another flash—her curled up in his lap, post-mission. Face buried in his chest, mumbling about how she worried every time he flew off. How she hated not knowing if he’d come back in one piece.

He should’ve stayed home more. Should’ve made her laugh more. Should’ve told her she was everything, every damn day.

But instead, he’d chased leads and called in favors, burned bridges trying to buy her time.

And it still wasn’t enough.

He thought he’d hated the world before. But now? He hated everything. Himself most of all.

Because all that power, all that speed, all that rage—none of it stopped the clock.

“Promise me you won’t forget.”

“I won’t,” he whispered into the silence, hugging the hoodie she left on the back of a chair. It still smelled like her. Like lilacs and vanilla and the warmth he couldn’t get back.

“I won’t forget, baby. I swear. I swear I won’t.”

His voice broke.

And this time, there was no one left to hear it.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

I saw your ask and receive post and I was wondering if you could do something with these dialogues and kinks?

107 "i know he's watching us, i hope he likes the show. cause that's all he's gonna do — watch"

132 "don't worry, i'll take care of you"

208 size difference

221 creampie/breeding

Preferably with either Jongho or Yeosang? I feel like we don’t get that much smut with either of them which is a crime so I’d be happy with any of them for this! As for au or story I don’t really got anything in mind so I will take whatever it is that you will give me🥰 - 🫧 anon

➯a/n: BUBBLE ANON !!! anything for you lolol i chose jongho becasue i have some yeosang coming laterrr~ i don't know about others but i don't write much for jongho even though i want to because his vibe is just hard for me to capture without a lot of world building (but i have been making some scraps for practice so hopefully i can start doing him justice !) ➯a/n session 2: why do i always make jongho such a guard dog character ? i just want him to protect me fr i guess 🥲➯a/n session 3: OKAY I CHANGED MY MIND I APPARENTLY CANT GET ENOUGH OF WRITING JONGHO I LOCKED IN FOR OUR BOY, I FORCED MYSELF TO STOP SO I COULD FINALLY POST THIS LMAO

🚫 MINORS 🚫 TAKE A HIKE

All Bark

❥Choi Jongho x fem reader

107 + 132 : "i know he's watching us, i hope he likes the show. cause that's all he's gonna do — watch" + "don't worry, i'll take care of you"

✫彡wordcount: 2.4k

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut, slight fear in the beginning (less than 400 words)

♫"Baby, I want you to know — how much I love you, how much I need you." DEAN, Bonnie & Clyde♫

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: body guard!jongho x mafia!daughter reader (such a cliche but cliches are popular for a reason damn it !!😩), threat of violence towards reader (jongho shuts that shit down dw), guns + very non descriptive violence, mentions of murder. smut warnings !! 208: size difference, 221: creampie/breeding, breeding themed dirty talk, reader and jongho match each others freak beautifully, switch dynamics, pet names (princess + baby), exhibitionism, possessiveness, hand + blowjob, slow and passionate turned rough, forehead touches (i am a hoe for this, we all know...), table sex, breaking a table (LMAO), wall sex, big strong gentleman jongho who begs and whines😋

♡masterlist !♡

✠ALL BARK✠

     "You really didn't think this through. Did you?" Your father leans back in his seat at the head of the long table, his face unreadable and to the untrained eye — bored, even.

     But you can see the little flit of fear in his eyes.

    If Jongho would take his eyes off of you, he would see it too. But, he doesn't. His eyes are trained on the strangers fingers, making sure he doesn't get even close to pulling the trigger of the gun that's against your shoulder.

     "Of course, I did-"

     "Where's your backup?"

     "Ba-backup? Why would I need backup, huh? I got all the backup I need," the man says with a false confidence, waving his gun around. "The real question is, where is yours? You really only got one guard on your only child? I find that hard to believe."

     You know that you have no reasonable reason to be afraid, "he's all I need." He'd rather first jump in front of a bullet than let you take it.

    But your heart still jumps into your throat as the cool metal touches your temple. "Is he? I managed to slip past him. He's letting me press a gun to your head. He's all bark, no goddamn bite."

    You meet his eyes across the table.

    Jongho has been your personal body guard for three years, your boyfriend for one and a half, your fiancé for seven months. Probably a conflict of interest, but neither of you give a shit.

     He's fiercely protective of you. Not only because it's his job, but because he loves you. Because he can't stand to see that little flash of fear in your face when the intruder moves a little too fast.

    He's just waiting for the right moment to strike. Silent and still as a statue.

    This guy doesn't stand a chance. Not when he's broken into your home and threatened you infront of both your father and your arguably insane fiancé.

     And insane he is. He doesn't think twice before pulling the trigger whenever the man raises his gun away from you again, shooting his right through his arm and making him drop his weapon.

     "All fucking bark." He finally speaks up with a scoff for the first time since this debacle started, standing up and grabbing the man by his hair while your father pulls you away.

     "You fucked with the wrong girl, now you get to feel the bite."

    You hear him slam the man's head to the table as you're ushered away. He's nothing if not loyal, so you know that the man is going to get what he deserves.

✠ALL BARK✠

      "You hurt yourself so bad, Baby." You pout as you gently dab Jongho's knuckles with a wet cloth later that night. "You should have let-"

    "Let him hurt you? Disrespect you?"

    "Should have let someone else handle his ass after you disarmed him." You correct him, looking up at him with softness in your eyes. You're kneeling infront of him, cleaning and bandaging his second hand after finishing the first.

    "No way." He shakes his head immediately, a small pout of his own forming. "No. I'm the one who defends you. I'm the one who takes care of you." 

    "Do you have to hurt yourself so much in the process?" You sigh as you wrap the bandage around his cleaned knuckles, bringing it to your lips and kissing it gently.

    "If that's what it takes, yes." He leans down quickly and catches your lips with his, replacing his covered hand with his lips softly.

    He kisses you like a fragile doll. He always does after something bad happens. Pecking your lips repeatedly with a softness reserved for you and you alone. His wrapped hands find your jaw, tilting you further up as he deepens the kiss.

     "You're my knight in shining armor," you smile between his kisses, hands finding purchase on his suit clad knees.

    Your praise always makes his stomach flutter so pleasantly. Especially with it mixing with his adrenaline crash.

    "Fuck..." Is all he can say as your hands travels further up his thighs. He leans back in the chair, giving you full access to his lap; where you rub his thighs gently up and down a few times before one of your hands gets bold and cups his clothed member. He's already twitching to life underneath your soft touches. He's addicted.

     As your fingers toy with his belt, loosening the buckle, he grabs your wrist. "We shouldn't do this here."

    "Don't worry," you say with a small smirk, "I'll take care of you, now. I can make it fast~"

    He's not going to say no to that, not once in a million years would he would say no. He really should just take you to your shared bedroom and have you there; lay you down like the princess he sees you as. But he also wants to do it right here, right now. In the dining room with the man still tied up and knocked out against the wall. Just because he can. Because you're still here, and you're still his.

     "Fuck," he repeats himself as he rolls his head back, resting against the back of the chair as you palm him. "Don't make it fast," he breathes as you finally unbuckle his belt and start working to free his hardening length.

    "No?"

   "No- God, no. Take your time with me, please, let me revel in you." His words have you more flustered than he is, with his cock out when anyone could walk in and see him letting you fist it up and down slowly.

    Your finger tips barely touch around his girth — the sight of him growing more and more excited is making you wet. Only you can do this to him. Make him so unbelievably needy in just under two minutes that's he's biting back a whine.

    "Suck it, Princess," he whispers above the break in his voice, "please?" 

     He jolts when you land a soft kiss to his thick, leaking tip. Just the right size for you to fit it in your mouth and suck and swirl your tongue while you jerk him off slowly and drive him absolutely mad.

    "Oh, that's it~" He grips the arm rests tightly, fighting his hips as they want to buck his length deeper into your welcoming mouth. He knows you can take it, you have before, but he also knows it leaves your jaw sore to be shoved open on his massive girth.

    You're already drooling down his cock, lubing up your fist with your own spit and picking up your speed. When you hum around his sensitive tip, he loses control.

    With a loud moan, he sits up quickly and turns your head; thrusting his tip onto the gummy wall of your mouth and making an indent on your cheek every time, shoving as much of his length in as he can without being tempted to try and fuck your throat. "Fuck, fuck," that seems to be his favorite word when he's got your mouth on him. Spoken like a whiny prayer.

He cups your bulging cheek softly and presses, his eyes rolling back. It feels almost as good as when he does that to your pussy, pressing to feel how deep he is. Just almost though. Nothing in the world can top that.

Not even your tongue tracing the throbbing vein on the underside of his length while he uses your mouth like a shallow pocket pussy. Not even your hand cupping and kneading his balls like you want him to spontaneously bust in your mouth.

"Ah, fuck me," he growls lowly as he manages to pull himself away.

"Why'd you stop?" You ask as you gulp, wiping the saliva from your chin as he hauls you up to your feet.

"Take off your pants," he says simply as he unbuttons his suit jacket, "I need to cum inside of you."

Now, you can't say no to that. Not in a million years. Being filled to the brim and beyond with Jongho's goliath girth and warmed by his cum from the inside is like heaven. Heaven that only he can give you.

He spreads out his jacket on the table as you rid yourself of your bottoms and shoes, not a second to spare as you step right out of them and are picked up. He sits you down on the fabric, sliding you to the edge.

"Put it right in," you bite your lips with a nod as he gives you a questioning eyebrow raise. "Put it in, I can't wait for you to tease me anymore. Just stretch me on your cock, Baby."

He's dizzy at your words, fingers gripping your thighs tightly as he kisses your jaw; pushing you to lay flat on the table with his chest against yours. "Are you sure?"

    "More than anything."

    The stretch of his tip pressing against your fluttering hole has your lip back between your teeth, holding back your whimpers. He presses his forehead to yours, his body completely covering you beside your spread legs.

     Usually he spends a good, long time getting you relaxed on his fingers. But sometimes you demand that he go right in, and he can't lie and say he doesn't love it as much as you do. One or both of you always cum immediately.

     When his bulbous tip finally gets swallowed up by your warmth, the rest of him is following suit and making you wail as he carves his way deep inside. "Jongho!" 

     "Oh, oh, sh-" He whines into your lips as he bottoms out inside of you, both to you twitching and pulsing against each other and only serving to push you closer to your impending orgasms. "You feel so damn good..."

    When you clench around him at his words, he's falling off the deep end and spilling his seed inside of you without even a single thrust. With his eyes squeezing shut, breath trembling with his release and letting out sharp little whines, he slips a hand between you and finds your clit in a half a second flat — pressing against it in a way that throws you in to boiling waters of pleasure with him.

     Your legs wrap around him tightly, squeezing him closer as your hands keep ahold of his jacket underneath you to ground yourself.

   Over your heavy breaths and ecstasy flooded brains, you hardly notice the man stirring in the corner. Jongho notices first — of course he does. And a grin tugs on his lips.

     "Oh fuck," you nearly purr as his hard length starts massaging your twitching insides slowly. When your head rolls to the side, you catch the man fidgeting uncomfortably. "Hah~ Baby, stop it," you laugh breathlessly, "he's watching us."

"I know he's watching us, I hope he likes the show. 'Cause that's all he's gonna do — watch. You're my girl, nobody gets to touch you." He cups your face and presses his forehead back to yours, "after I get you pregnant, that will prove it to the world. Prove that you are one with Choi Jongho, and he doesn't fuck around when it comes to what's his." 

     You moan — loud and lewd — as he begins to thrust frantically into your still overly sensitive walls, eager to keep his word. You grab onto his shoulders, panting into his mouth as you melt into a pleasure filled void; simply letting him take you how he pleases. "Give it- give it to me," you breathe out in a huff. "Every last drop, Baby-"

A particularly feral snap of his hips proves to be too much for the leg of the table beneath you. Following the sharp slap of skin against skin and the yelp from your throat, is the splintering of wood —

He wraps his arms around your waist quickly, holding you up in place of the now fallen table before you even register that it began dropping. You fist his neat button up tightly, eyes wide for a second before you crack a smile that makes his heart skip multiple beats.

"What now? Fuck me on the floor?" You chuckle as you catch your breath, moaning as he pulls your chest to his — cock pressing even deeper as he carries you.

"My Princess deserves better than that." He presses your back to a wall, licking his lips as he pins you to it with nothing but his own body weight. "I bet I can't break this, right?"

"You should try~" Your teasing is replaced by pleasured yells as he does try. Fucking you against the wall like he's trying to send you both straight through it, wrapping his arms under your knees and holding your legs up with no struggles at all.

"You're gonna be such a good fucking wife to me," he moans from somewhere deep, the sound rumbling against you, "such a good Mommy to our babies. H-how many? Hm?" He's losing the remainder of his mind as he imagines you all round and glowing with his child — your child. He's going to stake his claim and build his family and not one single person is going to fuck with you.

He'll kill them. The only reason the bastard in the corner with his head down is alive is because he didn't get all the answers he wanted before he passed out.

After he breeds you with every last drop of his cum just like you asked, after he cleans you up and holds you and helps you get comfortable, he's back to his mission. But you come first.

"A-all of them!"

"Uh?" He laughs at your fucked-out plead. His thick girth doesn't give your g-spot a break, especially not in this position. Fuck, this position. He's proving just how strong he is; pinning you to the wall and pounding your gushing heat like it's fucking easy. "All of them? You want — fuck — you want me to keep you full all the time, Princess? You want that?"

"Please!" You scratch down his back, undoubtedly leaving red marks even through his shirt. "I want to h-ave your babies," you almost sob, trembling in his hold as he leans down and sucks at your neck teasingly soft compared to his ruthlessly hips.

"Don't worry," he moans, broken and honey coated as your walls squeeze him, trying to milk him for all his worth. "I'll take c-care of you."

He cradles your head to his neck with one hand, the softness and lust in his eyes gone as he glares at the man; who looks shell shocked and uncomfortable beyond belief.

"If anyone touches you or our babies — I'll bite them like a fucking dog."

✠ALL BARK✠

[meganwritesfanfics]

Stay (Dr Robby x Reader Songfic)

Summary: After weeks of fighting, Y/N and Robby are reaching the end of their rope, and on the day of the Pittfest shooting, Y/N reflects on their relationship and wonders if it is time for her to finally move on.

Word Count: 3381

Trigger Warning: Discussion of Domestic Violence. HEAVY ANGST

Based on the song Stay by the Talbott Brothers

Y/N sat waiting for Robby to come home. She knew that his shift had been hell. Dana had called her once the shift was done to fill her in on everything. The patient loses, the shooting, and Robby’s rumored breakdown. Everything Dana said just caused Y/N’s heart to break. Of all the days to have a terrible shift, Y/N knew that the anniversary of Adamson’s death would be the worst one for Robby. 

She knew that Robby’s mental health had been tanking for months. He came home more exhausted than usual and he kept her at arms length. He would become short with her if she tried to get him to talk to her. It felt as though she was slowly losing him. They fought more in the past few weeks then they had in their entire 7 year relationship. And Y/N was starting to reach the end of her rope. 

Y/N loved Robby more than she could ever possibly imagine. He was her best friend. She could spend every moment of every day just being in his presence. Robby made her laugh harder than anyone she had ever met, and he could silence her inner demons just with the touch of his hand on her cheek. And all she wanted to do was bring him the same kind of comfort. 

Darling we might not ever look like those families

In the stock picture frames or on old time TV

There ain't no white fence around this life we have

We're two runaways on a one way ticket track

Robby however, had started picking fights about topics that Y/N had thought they were on the same page about. The other day she had been showing him photos of Landgon’s son dressed up for Halloween and he totally lost his shit on her. 

“You should have seen it, he was sprinting around the apartment pretending he was really a superhero.” Y/N laughed as she pulled up her phone to show Robby the pictures. 

“That’s nice.” Robby snapped as he just kept staring at his book. 

Y/N was taken aback. 

“Ok what’s your deal you old grump.” She said teasingly. 

“I just really don’t give a shit about Langdon’s kids halloween costume, I just want to read my fucking book.” He screamed. 

“Wow, ok you clearly need some alone time. Come find me when you can act like an adult again.” Y/N snapped back as she went to get off the couch.

Robby sighed as he reached out to grab her hand. 

“I’m sorry.” He said as he put his book down on the side table. 

“What’s your deal, you love Tanner?” She said as she sat back down next to him. 

“I know I do I just…” Robby sighed again and she knew he was contemplating just shutting her out again. “I just worry that you wish you had kids.” 

“What?” She gasped. 

“I see the way you interact with Tanner, or how you look when you see babies in strollers when we are walking in the park. And I just worry the life we built isn’t at all what you had hoped for. I’m worried you are losing out on having a family by staying with me.” Robby said but the way he said it, it wasn’t sad, it was more matter of fact. 

Y/N felt confused and angry. This wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation, but it felt like it was something Robby kept bringing up more and more recently. Also as if he was trying to get her to leave. 

“Where is this coming from? You know I don’t care about having kids. Do I love them yes, do I love that I don’t have to take care of them, absolutely. And don’t you dare say we aren’t a family. We are a family, and I love are little family.  I don’t want a fucking stock photo family Michael. I want you. I have always only wanted you.” 

Robby just sighed sadly. 

“I just don’t want you to regret…” 

“Stop.” Y/N snapped. “Baby, I don’t regret my life with you. But why do I feel like you are trying to push me away. Why does this feel like you want to start a fight?” 

“I don’t want to start a fight I just…” Robby sighed frustrated. “Never mind. I’m going to bed.” 

He stormed off leaving Y/N baffled in their living room. 

**************************************

“Robby is really going to need your comfort tonight.” Jack had texted. “It’s been really bad.” 

Y/N felt her tears start to run down her cheeks. Her heart broke for Robby. He deserved the world. He had been the first man in her life that actually made her believe that men could be kind. 

I see the scars you keep underneath your skin

Drawn in like a map of all the places your heart's been

Y/N had had a rough life growing up. Her dad had left when she was 13 and it sent her into a really dark spiral. She began seeking out that love in men that would use her and then desert her. As she grew up, those relationships stayed the same. Nothing changed but she kept seeking out that love she thought she deserved. So when Robby showed up in her life, it felt like a miraculous breath of fresh air. 

They had met out hiking. 

Robby had taken advantage of his weekend off to head up to the cabin. 

Y/N had run away from yet another bad ex. This one had gotten physical with her. 

She thought if she could get some air, real not city smog air, she might be able to clear her head. It was just her luck that as she was hiking all by herself she happened to step wrong off the path and hear a loud crack as she felt fire shooting up her leg. She hit the dirt before she could catch herself and let out a loud yelp. 

“Fuck,” She breathed as she looked away from her foot not able to stand the sight of it being bent at the wrong angle. 

“Are you ok?” She heard a voice call and she turned to see an attractive man jogging towards her. He had short brown hair with a brown beard that had flecks of grey in it. He was wearing a black t-shirt and some dark brown cargo pants. He had a grungy blue jacket on. 

Y/N could feel her face turning a bright shade red as she felt so embarrassed. The trail she was on was flat, it wasn’t like she fell down the side of a mountain. 

“Uh, yeah i am fine.” Y/N lied. 

“Yeah, no you are not ok, that ankle is definitely broken.” The man said as he leaned over looking at her ankle. 

“What are you a doctor?” She laughed sarcastically. 

“Actually, yes I am.” He smiled. “I’m Doctor Michael Robinavitch. My friends call me Robby.” 

Y/N blushed again. “Oh.” 

“Do you have your phone on you? I left mine in my cabin.” Robby asked her. 

“Shit, no I left mine at my…” She thought about it and she realized she had fully left her phone back at Matt’s place. Matt was Y/N’s abusive ex. 

“That’s ok, my car is just right around the corner, I can drive you to the hospital.” Robby said as he reached out to help her up. “Don’t put any pressure on your foot.” 

She hesitated for a moment before she grabbed onto his hands and let him pull her to her feet. 

“What kind of doctor are you?” Y/N asked trying to make small talk as he helped her limp towards his car. 

“I work in emergency medicine.” He said. 

“Oh well it's just my lucky day then, a hot ER doctor stumbled upon me in my hour of need.” She joked and she watched as it was Robby’s turn to blush. 

“Did you come out here with anyone? Or were you out here by yourself?” Robby quickly changed the subject

“By myself, needed to get away somewhere I could clear my head.” Y/N sighed and she was surprised that Robby hadn’t brought up her black eye. “What about you? 

“Uh by myself, for similar reasons I guess.” 

They had almost reached the car when it started pouring. 

“Shit,” Robby said. “Can I just carry you?” He said and Y/N looked at him eyes wide. 

“What?” 

“It will be easier especially now that it’s raining.” He said.

“Uh, yeah sure.” She said and instantly Robby scooped her up and go them to his car. 

Quickly he loaded her into the car before hopping in himself. The rain had gotten even worse and visibility was horrible. 

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to drive the 30 minutes to the hospital in this weather. My cabin is only a few minutes away. I can splint your foot and make sure you have ice and ibuprofen.” 

“Damn, you don’t have any of the harder drugs.” Y/N teased. 

Robby chuckled. 

“I’ll go to your cabin but only if you promise that you aren’t a serial killer.” Y/N continued. 

“I promise I’m not, though I’m sure if I was I still would promise you I wasn’t.” He laughed as he started down the road to his cabin. 

That was just the beginning of the relationship between Y/N and Robby. They spent the whole night talking. What she loved was that he didn’t ask her about the black eye. She could see him clock it throughout all of their discussions but he never asked. And she knew he knew. But he didn’t need to ask, he just talked about her, about her life, her likes dislikes, everything about her. 

The next morning when he drove her to the hospital, he asked her out for coffee. 

*****************************************************

Y/N stared at the door waiting for Robby to come through, she couldn’t sit any longer and was pacing around the apartment. Her eyes darted back to their bedroom where her suitcase sat open and waiting to be filled. The night before Y/N had a massive fight. And had ended in a way that left Y/N teetering on the edge of whether to leave or stay. 

The man I am ain’t nothing but holes in a tattered soul 

Threads of grace hemmed with faith 

They’re strongest stitches sewn 

It had started with Y/N coming home from errands finding Robby packing his backpack for the next day. 

“What are you doing?” She asked as she dropped the groceries on the counter. 

“Getting ready for work tomorrow.” He said not even bothering to look up at her. 

“Robby you don’t work tomorrow, today was your last day for the weekend.” She laughed thinking that his old man brian was catching up with him. 

“No, I picked up a shift for tomorrow. I’m going in to help out.” He sighed as he walked over and started helping her put the groceries in the fridge. 

“Michael.” Y/N snapped. “You never work on the anniversary, what are you doing?” 

“They need help. I’m going to help.” He repeated doing his best to not make eye contact with her. 

Y/N sighed her heart breaking. She was at her breaking point with Robby. 

“I can’t keep doing this Michael.” She sighed her eyes filling with tears. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked as he started towards the living room. 

“Will you fucking look at me!” She screamed and Robby whipped around eyes full of anger. 

“Jesus, Y/N I don’t want to do this.” He snapped. 

“What talk, that’s all I want to do is talk. We haven’t talked in ages.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, we talk every day.”  

“No we don’t, we don’t have meaningful conversations like we used to. You won’t let me in. I know you are struggling. I know that work is starting to take a massive toll on you. I know you just keep thinking about Adamson and blaming yourself. And I have tried to get you to talk to me or talk to someone, but you won’t listen. I feel like you have just been going through the motions of our relationship. And I’m tired Michael. I’m tired of talking at you and hoping you are listening.” 

Robby sighed. “I don’t want to talk because we have nothing to talk about Y/N. All you want to do is nag me about talking about my feelings and I’m tired of it. If I had anything I needed to talk to you about I would. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m fine. But I’m fucking fine.” 

“If you really think that Michael than I think you are lying to yourself. You have changed, you snap at everyone, you are more exhausted than I have ever seen you. And the Michael I know wouldn’t stand there watching me cry and not do anything.” 

“Well maybe I’m not the Michael you know anymore.” He snapped and Y/N sobbed. “If you want to leave then do it, but I can’t keep having this conversation Y/N.” He said as he gathered up his jacket. “I’m going on a walk.” 

The door slammed behind him and Y/N broke down sobbing as she collapsed to the floor. 

By the time Robby got back, Y/N was already in bed pretending to sleep. He came in silently and as he climbed into bed with her, he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before turning his back towards her and falling asleep. 

When she woke up in the morning, he was already gone for work. And that was the moment when she thought it might be time for her to go. 

She spent the whole packing and unpacking her suitcase. She had just unpacked it again when she got the call from Dana filling her in. 

****************************************************

Her heart stopped when she could hear keys in the lock as the door slowly opened and she saw Robby walk in, he was wearing his hoodie from the beer festival they went to together. It was ratty and faded, but it was one of his favorite hoodies, he wore it all the time but especially on days when he wasn’t feel great. It not only reminded him of happier times with Y/N but it was also one of the last things him and Adamson did together. 

The minute he made eye contact with her he pulled out his airpods and dropped his backpack by the door. 

“You’re here.” He sighed tears filling up his eyes. “I was afraid that…” He started his voice cracking. 

Y/N didn’t say anything as she rushed to his arms pulling him into her embrace. She felt his shoulders sag as he held onto her tightly lifting her so she was standing on her tip-toes. 

“Dana told me what happened. I’m so sorry baby.” She whispered and she could feel him crying into her shoulder. 

They stayed like this for a long time Robby holding onto her tightly afraid that if he let her go he would lose her. But after a while he pulled away and wiped the tears from his face. He took in Y/N’s tear stained face as well as he took a step back.

“Would you like to go on a walk with me?” Robby asked. 

“Uh, yeah.” Y/N replied but the pit in her stomach grew to the size of a boulder. Was this the end, was this when Robby was going to finally break up with her. 

And if I’m not the man you bargained for 

And the bright red love you bought me for is gone. 

They walked in silence into the park. Both kept trying to start the conversation but neither knew exactly where to start. 

At first Y/N thought they were just wondering, but soon she realized that Robby was leading them back to her favorite spot in the park. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Robby finally spoke breaking the silence as he turned to Y/N. “I have been horrible lately.” 

“Things have been rough I know I…” Y/N started. 

“No, Y/N let me say this.” Robby said as he grabbed her hands. “I have been struggling, if I am being honest I have been struggling since Adamson died. But I have just kept pushing down all of my feelings. Trying to pretend I was ok. But Y/N I’m not ok.” He said his voice cracking. 

Will you lie here under star drowned skies 

And look me in the eyes when I say 

These are our hard times 

“I constant feel like I’m failing everyone. But most importantly I feel like I am failing you.” 

“Michael…” 

“No I am or I have continuously failed you in our relationship. Ever since Adamson died I have been a husk of who I once was. I felt like I failed him and I kept trying to correct my failure, in every patient after him but it just made the losses so much worse. And I just kept pushing myself harder and harder to be better and to not be affected by so much. I thought it made me a better doctor and a better partner if I just pretended I was fine. But you knew, you knew I was ok, and you tried so hard to get me to open up. But I felt like if I opened up and I let myself feel all the pain I was feeling, I wouldn’t survive it. And I knew that was fair to you. I knew that I was shutting you out and pushing you away, and I could see how badly  I was hurting you. But I thought that maybe if I pushed you away, it would be better for you.” Michael sobbed as he tried to hid his face from Y/N. 

“Hey,” Y/N said as she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek turning him so he was looking at her. 

“And I know after everything I put you through I don’t deserve to ask that you forgive me. Hell I thought after our fight last night you would have left me. You probably should have left me.” He quickly grabbed her hands. “But I want you to know, today I broke. Today it was the final straw and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. After losing Leah, I fully broke down. I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t think straight. Hell I prayed. But it made me realize that I can’t keep pushing down these emotions, I can’t keep pretending to be ok. Jack gave me the number for his therapist, I’m going to reach out.” 

Y/N could feel her own tears streaming down her face as she watched Robby finally let her in. 

“And I’m not going to hide things from you anymore. I’m not going to try and push you away. I love you so much. And I know I have taken you for granted. And I am so sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve not been the partner you deserve. But I can’t imagine my life without you. I was terrified I was going to come home tonight and find you gone. Things are going to be different I promise. And I know I have no right to ask you this, but I am begging you, I would get down on my knees but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get my up.” He cracked a smile. “Please stay. Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I love you.” 

Y/N quickly pulled Michael into her arms, holding onto him tightly as she sobbed. 

“Where else am I going to go?” She whispered and he pulled her in for a long kiss as the two held each other crying. But they were not longer tears of sadness, instead they were tears of joy, so happy that they had found their way back to one another. 

Say You’ll Stay 

[rwrbficrecs]

confess my truth (in swooping, sloping cursive) by viciouslyqueer (book-verse)

Madeleine: In the summary it says ”a college AU where Alex realizes he's demisexual and Henry is just about the sweetest guy.”. This one is so darn sweet, important and interesting and I can relate a lot. I’ve read it so many times, I love it so so much!

Who are we to fight the alchemy by @tartadxfresa (book-verse)

@taylor-27: It's an infuriating and flirty gym au. It's Alex and Henry meeting at the gym and striking a friendship all the while the internet is fangirling over their chemistry. It's Henry and Alex doing viral trends. It's swoon worthy.

Show You Off, Tonight I Wanna Show You Off by @swoonoveryou3 (book-verse)

@taylor-27: Alex is a proud husband who also happens to be an actor. Henry is a professor and happily supports his husband. They walk the red carpet for an award show together. It's a hard launch, social media goes wild. That’s it, that's the fic.

Every Time My Heart Swings Back to You by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: SUCH a good multichapter that not only is great from the sci-fi angle and the classic not quite enemies to lovers trope firstprince fans know and love, but is such a great in-depth exploration of reincarnation and all that entails. I absolutely loved this fic!

before the first light by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: A fantasy AU, hints of Greek mythology, AND a soulmate AU, and the boys fighting for each other, plus it's by an author who never fails to write amazing fics? This fic is definitely one you don't want to miss!

i lay where i fell by @thewindowatkirkland (book-verse)

@dot524: This story is short(ish), but it completely blew me away. It’s an AU from Henry’s POV, and he’s struggling to move past an abusive relationship. His dear friend Alex walks with him as he recovers and tries to move forward. The yearning in this story is so perfect and I loved the payoff at the end. Beautiful and absolutely pulls you in, but please consider the tags before reading.

tangled in you by 0npurpose (book/movie-verse)

@dot524: It’s a body-swap AU! Henry and Alex mysteriously swap places after Cakegate, and hilarity, angst, and yearning ensues. I really enjoyed the Henry POV in this fic and the way the body swap immediately casts their relationship in a new light. A fun one to read!

The Throne He Deserves by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: You've read No Consequences, but what about the rest of the series? This installment is a deep dive into Henry's background, his feelings about said background, and Alex's reactions when faced with that reality. Don't worry, though, the author helps alleviate the angst by taking advantage of the personality traits of a couple characters we all love!

The Wait Before the Fall by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you're looking for a fic that has angst with a happy ending, this is definitely the first place I would start! Between the angst and writing skills of the author, I stayed up late multiple nights in a row just so I didn't end on too bad of a cliffhanger, and I absolutely loved every second of it! Not only that, but this fic helps the series come to such a satisfying conclusion, and, like The Throne He Deserves before it, paints such a good picture of just how far Alex will go for Henry- and Henry's response to that devotion. I'll say it again: I couldn't put this fic down!

What’s Up, Danger? (series) by @cultofsappho (book-verse)

@dot524: This story is a Spider-Man AU, and it’s so much fun! Since I first bookmarked it and added it to my TBR, it’s become a whole series, and the origin story might be my favorite. Alex is Spider-Man and Henry’s the one who finally found out what was going on with his boyfriend. But there’s a lot of angst and terror that goes along with being the significant other to a superhero. I hope this keeps getting updates, because each installment stands on its own in such a unique way and I want more of this AU!

we can share a lifeline by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Consider this an anti-recommendation — read it only if you're in the mood for a cathartic cry. Or twelve. It hurts. A lot. But it's also brilliant. Raw, real, and so beautiful. Alex and Henry meet in 1983, at just 5 and 6 years old. The last chapter? Set in 2062. The tags say: Growing up, growing old, time jumps, twelve years in the life of Alex and Henry — and honestly, this fic wrecked me in the best possible way.

Coming Up For Oxygen by @clrmntdzfx (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: This canon divergence fic (Alex POV) kicks off after Rio, well before the Royal Wedding. Alex is fed up with his dull uni life in D.C., so he comes up with a plan: a year abroad. In Oxford, of all places. It’s Enemies to Friends to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, packed with angst, emotion, and not to forget the steamy scenes. It’s deliciously long, and every character — even Pez and Ellen — is perfectly written, adding real depth to the story.

The Prince of Nowhere by graceofgrayskull (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Once again, stumbled across a stunning fic thanks to the gorgeous fan art by @lieselart! In this Coffee Shop/University AU, Prince Henry has already left the UK to study in New York — determined to abdicate. But mentally, he’s not in a great place. Then he meets (non-famous) law student Alex, who’s working part-time at a coffee shop. The pining, folks — I practically melted into the sofa. The dual POV is perfect — Henry’s longing and Alex’s teasing are a joy to read, and watching their feelings grow is delightful.

All our Sweetest Hours Fly Fastest by @ahistoricdistraction (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you're looking for a heavy dose of angst with a happy ending, this fic is for you! Alex ends up in the middle of a plane crash, and, well... Let's just say that this fic has such good Alex characterization, and the author has serious skills creating original characters, because I definitely got attached to a few of them! Absolutely loved this fic!

i can't help it if you look like an angel by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David is the absolute cutest in this and Alex bonding with him is too! Need I say more?

Give Me Comfort, Give Me Help by @dwell-the-brave (book-verse)

@na-dineee: To quote Pez from this fic: “This is his nightmare, Alex.” Philip dies in a skiing accident, and Henry feels obligated to step up as heir to the throne. This post-canon fic turns Henry and Alex’s world upside down — and it’s absolutely gripping! The entire 'Heavy Weighs the Crown' series offers a rare and incredibly compelling “what if” take on canon-compliant FirstPrince!

And they call it— by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David and Alex bonding and magic, pining Henry... This fic is a combination of some of my favorite things and it absolutely did not disappoint! It's sweet, it's funny and it'll leave you with all the feels.

i can't heal what i hold onto by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry lives with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), a chronic condition that is both painful and limiting for him. On top of everything else he has to carry, it adds to a constant feeling of low spirits. But then there’s Alex, who refuses to be pushed away and, little by little, manages to break down Henry’s walls. The story is written with such a gentle and tender touch that, despite all the pain, there’s always a thread of hope running through it.

Always Where I Need To Be by @cha-melodius (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David is the absolute best boy in this fic! He's so good at taking care of both Alex and Henry, and is a matchmaker too! This was a reread for me, but when I realized it wasn't on our list, I had to fix it, because the author does an amazing job at not only characterization, especially of David, but Henry and Alex too, which is always quite the feat for a oneshot!

praying our bridges don't make waves by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a soulmate fic but set in a sci-fi world where your entire life revolves around your “tether.” Alex opposes the idea of tethering with every iota of his being, but things change when June becomes ill and he conspires with Henry (who he’s just met) to use the tether benefits to pay for treatment. This one held me spellbound and the world is so interesting. Lots of great interaction between Alex and his girls, with Henry, and with himself as he wrestles with internal turmoil to navigate the situation. A really intriguing story!

passing notes in secrecy (i was enchanted to meet you) by @rockyroadkylers (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This is the absolute cutest high school AU! It's their emails, but the high school version, a 5+1 that will give you all the feels because of how much they care about each other in this oneshot.

Break Out by @cricketnationrise (book-verse)

@porcelainmortal: I waited to start this wip (now complete) because I am so not a hockey girl in any way, shape, or form. Turns out that doesn't matter because this fic is so brilliantly written! The hockey is there, but the technical aspects aren't overwhelming and the focus is on the characters. A lot of the OCs are interesting and fun, but naturally, Alex and Henry are the center of everything. This story has absolutely gripped me and I can't wait for the last two chapters almost as much as I wish there was even more of it left.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[aperrywilliams]

1000 Times (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader) - Part II

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Author Masterlist

Part I (May 7th)

Part II (May 14th)

Part III (May 21st)

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader.

Summary: Your mom is getting married, and you have to come back to your hometown for the wedding. There is a little problem, though: you told her months ago you have a boyfriend, and now she wants to meet him at the wedding. Your best friend, Spencer - who happens to be the guy you are in love with, too - offers to help you with that. If you say yes, will things work out like they are supposed to?

Word Count - Part II: 6.5k

Warnings: Fluff/Angst/Smut/Angst/Fluff (I think that order is correct). Minors DNI. The smut is not detailed and mostly implied. Reader and Spencer are Idiots in love. The Reader's dad died. The Reader has poor and unhealthy family relationships, especially with her mom. Cheating is mentioned (in a past Reader's relationship). There are discussions about child trauma. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Part II is here, when everything twists a ‘little bit.’ What do you think will happen next?

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'Cause I would die to make you mine

Bleed me dry each and every time

I don't mind, no, I don't mind it

I would come back a thousand times.'

-

The alarm blasts at 8 am sharp, and for a day off, it is like a crime to you. But your mom gave you a list of things to get done and help with before the afternoon. Rubbing off the sleep from your eyes, you look to your side and see only the empty spot where Spencer was when you fell asleep last night. Where is he?

The sound of water running from the bathroom gives you the answer.

Padding to the window, you get to open the curtains. It's a beautiful day outside. The gardens look amazing with the morning sun. Maybe it's one of the only things you miss from this house. Your apartment in DC clearly doesn't have this view, but you wouldn't trade your place for anything, not even these wonderful gardens.

"The weather report says today's temperature will remain warm with a clear sky."

Spencer’s voice makes you turn around.

"Yeah. With luck, tomorrow will be -"

Your words die in your mouth when you're faced with a semi-naked Spencer, wrapped with only a towel around his waist, with wet hair and droplets running down his torso. Your brain suddenly becomes mush. Jesus, this man wants to kill you for sure. How can he look so hot so early in the morning?

Spencer confuses your amazement with discomfort.

"Un. I'm sorry, I forgot my clothes in that chair," he apologizes, quickly grabbing the pile and rapidly strolling back to the bathroom.

"It's okay. Do n't-don't worry," you manage to say, but the bathroom door is already closed.

You could get used to a view like this every morning.

After breakfast, while helping Andrew organize some things, Spencer is held by Dylan, who, after learning about your boyfriend's three doctorates, found no better pastime than interrogating him on a wide variety of topics. With patience and his fair share of enthusiasm, Spencer is happy to explain things Dilan probably only understands half of.

During one of your breaks, you take Spencer to the family office, where your father's book collection is located. It is one of his few things that are still kept in the house. As you go through each book, you tell Spencer things you remember about your father from your childhood. He was clearly an important figure to you; you've never denied it. Unlike Spencer with his father, you were close to yours until a fatal accident ended his life. That's something you still struggle to talk about despite all the years that have passed.

Spencer watches you with fascination as you talk about your happiest memories from that time. It's a side of you no one has ever seen. Spencer feels lucky to be the one who witnesses your most intimate self outside the confines of work and life at the BAU.

However, the bubble you find yourselves in is shattered when your mom shows up, escorted by your other brother, Ralph, who has just arrived.

"Isn't that my little sister and her boyfriend?" Ralph asks with a smile on his face. Of your two brothers, Ralph is the only one you get along with a bit. However, if he had to choose between you and your mom, like Lincoln, Ralph would choose your mom.

After a greeting hug and the respective introductions, Ralph proceeds to ask you how you've been and says he's happy you decided to come. The whole time, Spencer's arm is protectively around your waist. You tenderly stroke his hand, thanking him for taking his role as boyfriend seriously in front of your family.

As expected, the conversation quickly moves toward the big event.

"Well, I know it's just the rehearsal, but I took the liberty of inviting Evan for today. I know you only had him contemplated for the wedding, but he has been a family friend for so long," Ralph tells your mother.

Hearing Evan's name, your expression hardens, and your body stiffens, something Spencer notices immediately.

"What a good idea, Ralph. I didn't think about it, but I totally agree," your mom says.

"Who's Evan?" Spencer asks you. Before you can say anything, Ralph pipes up.

"A family friend, who also happens to be (Y/N)'s ex-boyfriend."

"That poor boy, he was so in love with you, and you behaved like you didn't care," your mom chastised, recalling your relationship with Evan.

Uncomfortable with the topic, you let go of Spencer's grip and shift your weight from one foot to another.

"He was crazy for you," Ralph adds.

"Oh, please. We're talking about the time I was what? Sixteen? We weren't in love," you scoff. But the defensiveness in your voice tells Spencer there is more to the story.

"Young or not, he would have done everything for you. A real husband material."

Your mom's observation spurs a groan from you.

"Really, Mom? It was all that mattered to you? If it were up to you, I would have ended up married to one of Dad's wealthy friends, thirty years older than me."

"Don't be ridiculous. I would never have done that to you."

"No? That's why you actually married one?" you spat—your mom's face morphs to offended in one second.

“(Y/N)! Don't be disrespectful," Ralph snarls. And you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself. Spencer's confused look makes you feel guilty. It's not fair to him to witness a scene of you arguing with your family.

"Fine," you relent. "I'll shut up." Now, looking at Spencer and softening your voice, you speak again. "Baby, can you help me with the greeting cards for the tables?"

He nods and offers you his hand to take. "Sure." You squeeze it appreciatively and walk with him out of the room.

Once outside, out of the people's sight, you let out a deep breath.

"Spencer, I'm sorry-"

Before you can fall into a spiral of apologies, he cuts you off.

"Don't. You don't have to say sorry to me. I know there is more behind what happened there, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But no matter what it is, I'm on your side, okay? Always."

"Thanks. You should know anyway."

While you're organizing the cards with the guest's names, you tell Spencer about your history with Evan. Two years older than you, Evan was the younger brother of Ralph's best friend. Evan's family was always close to yours, and for a long time, you considered him your friend.

But after your dad passed away, things went a bit south with him. You were vulnerable and leaned on Evan when you thought no one else understood. One thing led to another, and you ended up in a relationship. Everything was pretty normal until you started seeing the signs. Evan grew up, and so did you. His tastes began to resemble his brothers' more than his own. The things you had in common diminished between the two of you, and that youthful love faded. The last straw was when you discovered he was cheating on you with one of your cousins.

You made your decision to break things up. The problem? Evan wasn't ready to let you go. Between the pressure from his family and his ego, he couldn't tolerate not having you. He was never physically aggressive, but he was hurtful enough to kill any affection you might have had for him—something he did a good job of masking and twisting to his advantage. In the end, everyone thought you were the one who hurt his feelings first when it was the opposite.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through that," Spencer tells you once you end the story. You shrug.

"I haven't seen Evan since I left home all those years ago. That's why it feels kind of weird now. But I need to get over it, leave that part of my life behind."

"It's a good way to see it, but if he tries to do something to hurt you again, I'll take care of it," Spencer says, eyebrows furrowing in full protective mode. It's sweet and kind of hot, too.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, but Evan can be an intimidating guy, if you know what I mean. I don't think it's a good idea to go into a fight with him," you warn him. Spencer's eyes widen.

"Oh no. No. I didn't say that because I want to fight Evan, but I would if it's necessary - I said that to ask Garcia to hack him. The damage could be substantially more significant than if I tried to punch his face. I'm sure of it."

You can't help but burst into a fit of giggles.

"Absolutely no one should doubt you're a genius!" you say between giggles. Spencer grins widely. He loves making you laugh. He loves you.

For the rest of the afternoon, Spencer helps you to relax, cracking jokes from time to time and talking about whatever he thinks can work for you to stop overthinking. It actually works, and he feels proud of himself for staying grounded in an environment so out of his comfort zone. For you, he would do that ten thousand times and much more.

-

As you get ready in the bathroom, Spencer grabs a book from one of your shelves: Wuthering Heights. When he opens it, the first thing he sees is a handwritten note on the first page.

'It's not the way we see what makes us aware of the world; it's the way we feel it. My little girl, always trust in your instincts. They will always lead you to what you're looking for: the real kindness, the real love. Dad.'

Spencer thinks about how your dad's words got ingrained in you. For all the years he has known you, those words are the perfect fit for how you are. You see the world, but on top of that, you feel it. You value kindness and honesty. You trust in your guts. It's who you are, and it's one of the many reasons Spencer loves you.

Engulfed in how Heathcliff fights with his emotions as Catherine marries Linton, Spencer doesn't hear the bathroom door opening.

"Spoiler alert: everyone goes crazy and becomes ghosts at the end."

Spencer chuckles at your comment, but when his attention shifts from the book to you, his breath hitches in his throat, and his jaw almost hits the floor.

There you are. Ready for the rehearsal dinner in one of the dresses you bought for the occasion. You wouldn't say it's too fancy, but it suits you pretty well. Spencer would say 'pretty good' is an understatement, though. For him, you look stunning, marvelous, sexy, captivating, and all those words he can think of right now seem nothing compared to reality.

You confuse Spencer's lack of words with something bad. Maybe you went overboard.

"Too much?"

"What? No! It's - uh. You look amazing."

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face at the compliment.

"Well, you look very handsome, I must say," you add. And it's true. With a nice dark blue suit, Spencer looks so effortlessly attractive that it's almost a crime for you. How you will get your eyes off him tonight, you don't know. The funny thing is that Spencer is confronting the same dilemma as you.

"Are we ready then?" Spencer asks as he stands from the sofa and gentlemanly offers his arm for you to take. Unfortunately, the gesture reminds you this isn't an actual date. It's fake. Spencer is not your boyfriend.

"Yeah. Ready for the show," you reply, masking your disappointment with a chuckle. Little did you know, Spencer feels equally disappointed with the reality of the situation as well.

The patio is full of tables perfectly set for the guests' use. The decoration screams luxury and costly taste. You wouldn't expect less from an event where your mom is the main character.

At the entrance, Andrew is directing the staff as the guests start to arrive. You can spot some uncles and aunts from your mom's side. Your brother Ralph and his wife are talking to the wedding planner. Your soon-to-be stepfather is greeting the people already gathering.

“(Y/N)?” A voice calls from behind you. It only takes you seconds to recognize it: Kimberley, one of your cousins, and the worst nightmare you had when you were growing up.

"Hey, Kim. How are you?"

Before replying, the blonde gives you a tight embrace. "It has been so long!"

You don't know why she seems so glad to see you when you are not an ounce happy to see her. One of the last memories you have of her is trying to convince you she didn't sleep with Evan when she actually did.

"Are you not going to introduce me to this handsome? Are you?"

There she is. Kimberly is already seductively batting her eyelashes at Spencer. This shameless bitch.

"Baby, this is my cousin Kimberly. Kim, this is Spencer, my boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you," Spencer greets politely, with no attempt to make physical contact.

"It's a total pleasure," Kim says, extending her hand to Spencer. He feels compelled to comply, giving it an awkward squeeze. You internally roll your eyes.

It's a bad thing Kimberly doesn't seem phased or in a rush to leave, so she starts small-talking. Despite all the history between you and Kim, you don't want to be rude just at the beginning of the evening. In your mindset of leaving all behind, you are polite enough to engage in a simple conversation. Spencer is always backing you up. Even with the explicit attempts from Kimberly to get Spencer's attention through her flirty remarks, Spencer doesn't seem interested. If anything, he circles your waist to push you closer to him, kissing your head from time to time and talking to you and about you using sweet pet names.

If someone asks you, you would say it feels so fucking good.

"Kim, over here!" An award to the person who calls her name across the room and makes her decide to leave you both. But not before a flirtatious remark to Spencer.

"See you around, handsome."

Spencer looks at you curiously. "What's her problem?" he asks, referring to your cousin.

"Her problem? Her problem is that she can't see an attractive man without flirting with him. Much less if that man is standing next to me, literally or figuratively."

"Oh. Is she the one that-?"

"Yep," you reply before Spencer can end his question.

No further explanation is necessary.

After Kim leaves, some uncles and aunts you haven't seen in years come over to say hello as well. Spencer, always the kind man he's been, acts attentively as if he genuinely enjoys having to greet so many people he doesn't know. Which you know he hates.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" You hear your name from behind.

Shit. You know that voice. You turn, and your assumption is confirmed. Evan.

"Evan? Oh, hi. I didn't recognize you."

Bullshit. Of course you did. Without any warning, Evan envelopes you in a tight hug. What's the problem with people? Why does everyone want to hug you today?

"It's so good to see you! You haven't changed at all!"

Spencer looks at the exchange and notices how tense you get. Knowing who that guy is, his brows furrowed in increase.

You barely return his embrace. When Evan finally lets you go, his eyes go to Spencer. Shaking off the discomfort, you clear your throat.

"Evan, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Baby, this is Evan," you introduce. With no other word said, Spencer stretches his hand to Evan. The man returns the gesture, and the two men trade a tight, tense handshake.

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the testosterone display.

"You won't tell him who I am?" Evan teases, and you furrow an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, (Y/N)! We spent so much good time together, didn't we?"

Your jaw tightens immediately. The audacity is incommensurable.

"Spencer already knows who you are, Evan. Actually, he knows more than enough," you say to the guy, who raises his hands in mock defense.

"Okay, okay. I should expect nothing good then." His gaze turns to Spencer now. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know what she told you about me, but I'm a good guy now. We don't have to rely on the past, right (Y/N)?"

Spencer doesn't even blink; his expression is neutral, the same one he uses when he's meticulously analyzing someone. He only returns a hum of acknowledgment before taking your hand.

"It was nice meeting you, Evan. Now, if you excuse us, we still have a few people to say hello to," Spencer apologizes, looking at you. "Right, love?" His gaze is piercing and protective, and it leaves you breathless and almost speechless.

"Yeah. Right. See you around," you tell Evan with a tight-lipped smile before disappearing from his sight with Spencer's hand in hand.

Out of people's ears and eyes, Spencer looks at you.

"Are you okay?" You nod appreciatively.

"Yeah. Good. Thank you for that," you say, jutting your thumb over your shoulder.

"You sure are okay?" Spencer's worry melts your heart.

"Spencer, it's fine. I'm okay. He's just an ass," you dismiss, and Spencer huffs a laugh.

"Understatement of the century, I must say. I mean, Evan is an ass, and pretty much everyone here." You hum in agreement.

"So, go figure how badly I missed being here all these years."

Spencer scoffs. "I can tell."

You both agree it's a good time for a drink. And not soon after, the rehearsal starts.

You've always hated protocol, especially when it comes to etiquette. It's funny how you ended up working for the FBI and haven't been fired yet for breaking a rule or two. You've undoubtedly caused Hotch a headache more than once. But at this very moment, all the FBI rules seem harmless compared to having to listen to the wedding planner barking orders back and forth. Before the dinner even started, you had to move your seat three times because the guests' seat configuration had been changed repeatedly.

Add to that the lighting adjustments, the photos, and the speech rehearsals. One thing you have to thank your mom for is that she didn't force you to give a speech. It's a good thing Lincoln and Ralph offered to provide one.

After all the commotion and the rehearsal finished, your mom decides it's not worth wasting the festive atmosphere and invites everyone to stay for an impromptu party. So you and Spencer keep wandering around among the crowd, who occasionally catch you for casual conversation. Everything's going well until Dylan asks Spencer for help with something, and you stay there, scrutinizing the surroundings that make you feel like an outsider in the same house where you grew up.

"Your boyfriend seems a good guy."

You turn around and see Evan standing next to you, holding two glasses of wine. He offers one to you.

"I assume you still prefer red over white."

You take the glass from his hand. Despite who's offering it to you, a drink can do good right now.

"You came alone?" you ask. Evan chuckles.

"Yeah, I've only been divorced for three months, so I wouldn't have the audacity to invite my ex out of courtesy."

You don't say anything. What could you possibly say? Sorry? You won't tell him that, even if you actually feel sorry for him.

"What do you want, Evan? I don't think you came over just to offer me a glass of wine."

"Maybe I did. As a form of apology?" The man shrugs.

"How so?" you ask, confused.

"Maybe you think this is cynical of me, and I understand. You don't have to believe me. But I seriously owe you an apology. Ten years late, but still."

You think maybe he’s joking, but he doesn't laugh. Weird.

"What? Do you have a conscience now?" you ask sarcastically. Evan chuckles.

"More than a conscience, karma has eaten me over the years. And, well, I know you went through a lot during those years, and I didn't behave in the way you needed. Clearly, you didn't deserve the way I treated you."

And ten years had to pass for him to realize. It's not something that surprises you, though.

"You're right. I didn't." Your voice is sharp. "And if this is a part of your checklist in favor of cleaning your karma, consider it done."

You haven’t in you to behave mercifully with someone like Evan. Not back then, not now.

"That means being friends is out of the options, isn't it?"

Even if your idea is to get over this, you're worth more than a shitty friendship with an ex.

"Listen. I haven't put a foot in this town since the day I left. My life is elsewhere now. The only thing here is my mom, brothers, and a bunch of memories. There is no reason for that to change."

Evan nods in understanding, a nostalgic smile on his face.

"That guy, Spencer, is lucky, you know? He's a far better boyfriend for you than I would have been even in my better days."

You scoff. "Damn well, he is."

He would. If only things were different, you know he would.

As on cue, you feel a shielding hand on the lower part of your back. You don't have to turn to know it's Spencer. You can recognize his touch everywhere.

"I'm sorry. It took me some time to get back. Did you miss me?" Spencer asks, planting a loving kiss on your cheek, ignoring that Evan is in there. You have to do everything in your power not to get flustered.

"It's okay, love. We were just talking."

"Yeah." Evan agrees.

"Great." Spencer's eyes go to Evan. "I hope you don't mind if I steal her now. I want to show you something," he says, now looking at you.

You nod, and Spencer grabs your hand to walk in the direction of the gardens.

The tension you have been feeling is melting slowly as you both walk to the fresh air of the night. It's like you can actually breathe now.

"Thank you. Again. You have already saved me twice tonight." Your voice is more collected, relieved, and appreciative.

"Don't mention it. It was that or waiting for an extra minute and having to pull you off as you were kicking Evan on the floor."

"Tempting," you muse. Spencer chuckles.

"My literally kicking-ass girlfriend," he teases, stealing a kiss from your cheek. You feel the flush rising in your skin again. The gesture is spontaneous, but it does nothing but make you feel giddy.

If only this were real.

The fresh air is welcoming as you and Spencer walk through the gardens hand in hand, far from the bustling.

"Did you spend a lot of time over here when growing up?" Spencer asks, gazing at the expansion of trees and bushes.

A smile creeps onto your face at the memories.

"I loved to walk around here, especially in the spring. There were more trees than there are now. I used to spend hours under that one there," you point to a big willow not far from you.

"It's really big," Spencer comments, admiring the tree.

"Yeah. Can I ask where that question comes from, though?"

Spencer's cheeks flushed a bit. He clears his throat.

"In one of the family photos I saw earlier in the house, you were a kid, playing under that same tree. And you looked so happy. Your smile was wide and bright. That made me wonder how many of those moments you had growing up and if, in the last few years, you have felt that kind of true happiness again."

Tilting your head to him, you think about the question. Have you? On a daily basis, you don't allow yourself to think much about your childhood years. Those memories tend to be locked in your mind.

"Well, at that time, things were different around here.

And as an adult? There are moments I treasure, and they make me happy. It's not the same as back then, but I assume it doesn't have to be the same. People grow and change to a certain extent."

It's the growing-up rule, right?

"Do you think people really change?" Spencer asks. You hum.

"I think so. Or if not, then we adapt."

Spencer hums in agreement.

"You don't think so?"

Spencer bites his lower lip, contemplating his response.

"I find it hard to believe that people really change. It's true that in our line of work, we've seen people go from 0 to 100, but it is always because there are processes that develop over time. I would agree more with the idea you mentioned about adapting to the environment."

You both stop walking as you lean your back against a tree trunk. You remain silent for a few seconds, enjoying the stillness and feeling the small breeze that begins to rise while you lose yourself in your thoughts. Spencer, with his hands in his pockets, looks toward the house, where movement can be seen, but you can barely hear it from where they are.

"Spencer, can I ask you something?" You break the silence, and Spencer looks at you.

"Sure."

"Do you think I am not lovable?"

Spencer's stunned expression is difficult not to notice.

"What? Where did you get that idea?"

Shrugging, you purse your lips for a second.

"I don't know. I mean, all the time, my family has been this adamant, repeating over and over that my life is a mess. They have never believed someone could love me for who I am, not because of my last name or the family I was born into. And I think I've gotten the idea so deep in my head that I've never given any relationship a chance, nor have I dared to pursue one."

Spencer's eyebrows furrow. How can you even believe that for a second?

"There is nothing further from the truth than that." There isn't a trace of hesitation in his voice.

You avert your gaze from Spencer out of embarrassment and vulnerability. You never confided in anyone a thought like this one.

"Hey, I mean it," Spencer insists, seeing how you don't want to look at him.

"You have to say that. You're my friend," you scoff, laughing. "I shouldn't have asked you this. It's stupid anyway."

Now, with one of his hands out of his pockets, he reaches your cheek.

"Look at me, please."

You timidly do as he says.

"I've known you for four years, six months, and three days. And from the moment you walked through the glass doors of the BAU, wearing your black coat and that furry scarf with your reddened nose from the cold peeking out, I knew things were going to be different, and in the best possible way."

"Yeah. They turned different; Hotch's migraines increased since I joined," you joke.

"Don't do that," Spencer chastises, chuckling.

"Do what?"

"Deflecting through making jokes. I'm trying to be serious here, okay?" His tone isn't truly mad or annoyed. The smile on his face is his tell.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry for interrupting you, Doctor Reid." The grin on your face tells Spencer you're still messing with him.

"That is precisely what I'm talking about. The way you are. Truly, honest, transparent. You don't need to pretend to be someone you're not because you're perfect the way you are. You're generous; you'll never stop sharing something you think another person needs. You're dedicated to your work; you make things happen, and you don't just sit around waiting. You've become a fundamental part of many people's lives, like mine. I can't imagine a world where I haven't met you."

It's weird to hear so many compliments in so few sentences. And coming from Spencer, it's impossible not to get flustered.

"Spencer, that's really sweet of you,” you say, voice small, trying to mask the way his words affect you.

"I'm not done."

"No?"

"Not even close. Maybe you didn't realize, but you are like a magnet, and not only because of your personality. Did you look at yourself in the mirror today? Jesus, you look stunning. People have been gravitating around you all night, and not because they already know you and want to say hi or because they have a history with you. It's because you intrigue them, captivate them."

"Oh, come on, Spencer. Don't overstate. How could you possibly know that?"

Spencer wonders how you cannot see that. For him, it's clear as day.

"Because I do know! Every man would be lucky to have you. Just- if only they could see what I see. If only you could see what I see."

It's dangerous territory, and Spencer knows, but the idea of you feeling unworthy of love? It's worse and intolerable for him.

Something in your guts tells you not to push it, but what the hell is he talking about? You need to know.

"And what's what you see that I don't?"

There it is. The question. The open door.

It would be so easy right now to come clean and confess. But Spencer is not sure. No, he is sure about his feelings; that's not the problem. It's a fact that one more word could be the nail in the coffin. Spencer knows he is no good at talking about his emotions. People usually misunderstand him, and things get twisted.

But Spencer is at a crossroads now. He can't just stay silent or try to change the subject.

After a second of deliberation, he clears his throat and shortens the distance with you a bit so he doesn't have to talk too loudly.

"Do you trust me?" Spencer asks, and you don't have to think twice about your response. What kind of question is that?

"Of course I do."

Your words fill Spencer with a sort of courage he hasn't had before. That, and some of the wine glasses he drank earlier.

"Good. Trust me on this, please," Spencer whispers, now tilting your chin up and leaning slowly—his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips. When you realize what he is doing, the air leaves your lungs, and you can't do anything but wait with bated breath and closed eyes for what's coming.

It's soft, barely there at first. A brush of lips that mingle the air between you. As you feel him just a millimeter apart, your heart is already yearning for more. Instinctively, you grasp the lapels of his jacket. Spencer understands what you want and closes the distance between you and him again. This time, with more purpose, his lips capture yours, and you kiss him back in no time.

You don't know if it was just seconds or a whole bunch of minutes you kept kissing. Your lips moving in synchrony is like a dream come true. It's sweet and all-consuming at the same time—a weird way to say what you have been hiding in favor of a lie. People say life works in mysterious ways. They might be right this time.

But good things have to end at some point. Spencer breaks the kiss first, a bit unsure about your reaction. His eyes scan yours for some clue.

You don't know what to say. It's a lot. Did he mean it?

"Wow." It's the only thing you manage to say. Spencer is not sure how good that is.

"A good kind of wow or a bad kind of wow?"

With your cheeks flushed, there is no option for a bad wow. How can he not notice it?

"Definitely a good wow. If you wanted to prove your point, it worked," you giggle, mid-nervous and mid-giddy. You can still feel the rush of adrenaline running through your body.

"I'm glad."

But what was actually the point he wanted to prove? Do you think Spencer wanted to show you how good you can feel when you let people in? When you willingly take down your guard and just feel. Well, that worked. But what did it mean for him? Was it really a confession? You are scared to ask.

Spencer smiles, and your stomach flips. Do you want to break the magic with rationality? No. Want Spencer to expose himself with a love declaration, truly? No. The best option for both of you is to ignore the whys and let things flow.

Your arms fling around Spencer's neck, and you tiptoe to shorten the distance.

"Can I?" You ask, knowing Spencer would understand. He nods, eyes glistening with anticipation. This is the best thing that has happened to him, and he won't waste the chance.

His lips catch yours in a soaring kiss. Savouring every second of it. His hands grip your hips to pull you closer. And you don't have it in you to protest—quite the opposite.

This kiss is everything you expected and more. His lips on yours are like honey, and you can't get enough.

The warm and tingling sensation in your body caused by his touch shuts down every thought. You don't want to stop, even if your brain tells you to do it.

In an attempt to regain control, you pause for a second, looking directly into his eyes.

"You know, there is nobody actually looking at us right now, right?" You point almost breathlessly, in case his motivations were only fuelled by the task of pretending to be your boyfriend.

"Yeah. I know," he replies, equally dizzy as you but not breaking eye contact. Has Spencer always looked at you that way?

"Spencer-"

"If you're uncomfortable, I'll stop," he whispers, so close that you can still feel his breath fanning your lips.

This is wrong; you know it. All the hooters blast in your head, alerting you to call it quits. You decide to play deaf, though.

"Please, don't stop," you whine, and Spencer can't deny you anything even if he wanted to.

In no time, his lips are on yours again, kissing you with urgency. This can't be fake, can it?

You're kissing him back with the same enthusiasm he has. It doesn't matter if you're alone or with a lot of people around. Your senses are consumed by the man holding you and devouring your mouth and soul.

You don't remember who took the lead first, but in one moment, you are making out under a tree in the gardens, and the next, you are stumbling into your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

Spencer's arms envelope you in a way that makes you dizzy and needy. His lips travel down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses, driving you insane. Your hands tug his jacket down his shoulders, making quick work of losing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

You are so invested in your task and feeling the warmth filling your body that you almost don't notice the zip of your dress giving in, calloused fingers dancing in your exposed skin.

"You're so gorgeous. Sexy. Marvelous," Spencer chants with his lips descending from your collarbone. A gasp escapes your mouth when your back hits the mattress; with Spencer on top of you, his hands roam your sides, gripping the supple of your hips, pushing his body to you. Through the fabric of his slacks, you can feel his hardness pressing into one of your thighs.

"Fuck-" you half curse and half moan.

"Feels good?"

"So so good. You feel so good, baby.” You breathe out.

You can't believe this is happening. It's like a dream come true. One of your best fantasies. The guy who you have been in love with for so long is about to fuck you, about to give you what you have been craving so much.

“You don't know how much time I wanted to do this,” Spencer confesses, trailing kisses in every patch of skin you reveal to him. He is drunk on you, and you surely feel drunk on him.

But in the haze of your lust-filled brain, something pops up. This isn't real. Spencer doesn't love you. He's your friend. He is only carried away by the heat of the moment. If you let this happen, it will ruin you both. You can't do this in the harbor of a lie.

"Spencer-"

Your voice comes out more like a moan. Your senses are foggy because of the way he's touching you, kissing you.

"I know. Let me take care of you, please."

And you want to. Oh god, you want to. But not like this. With the tiny will you have left, your hands cup his face, actually to stop him.

"I - Spence. No, please, stop."

Spencer halts his ministrations immediately. He can see your eyes filled with something he can't pinpoint. Something is wrong.

"What's it? Did I hurt you?"

His concern makes you feel bad. You don't want him to feel guilty for what is your fault.

"No. No, you didn't hurt me. It's just- Spencer, we can't do this."

Spencer's concerned eyes shift to confusion.

"Why? You don't want to?"

You take your chance to move from under his body to sit on the mattress. Spencer kneels, waiting for your answer.

"I do want to. Believe me, I do want to. But we shouldn't. It's going to twist everything."

"What are you talking about? Why would this twist-?"

Spencer trails off. He isn't sure why you are rejecting him now.

"This isn't real. We are confused because we're playing a role. We are friends, Spencer."

Spencer's frown morphs into a hurtful expression. Is it not real, you say? It feels real to him.

"What are you talking about? Why do you say this isn't real?" Your sudden change in behavior only fuels Spencer's perplexity.

"Because we're pretending. I don't want to fall on this because of it," you whine, looking for a way out of this moment.

"Is that what you really think? That we're pretending?" Spencer's voice is hurt, and you feel stupid for letting this happen. Stupid and exposed. Not wanting to reply to his question yet, you stand from the bed to retrieve some clothes. Spencer follows your movements, still naked on the torso and kneeling on the mattress. When you get out of his sight, behind him, he stands as well. You have already removed the dress, clad in your pajamas, and sat on the sofa in front of the bed, hugging your knees, trying to protect yourself.

"I asked you a question, (Y/N). Please, don't ignore me."

"I don't know!" you shout. "I think we are. I mean, the whole point of this was to deceive my family. And now, you say all those things about me, and we kissed, and I don't know!"

You avert his gaze, but you can feel it burning holes in your skin. When you don't say anything else, Spencer sighs in defeat.

"I can't compete with your past. If you still feel trapped there, there is nothing I can do."

His words take you by surprise. Why is he talking about your past?

"What?" You ask, puzzled by the harsh tone Spencer is using. Spencer scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"If you say this isn’t real, it's because you don’t want it to be. Maybe you feel nostalgic about this style of life, and there is something in you that wants this back."

He can't be serious, you think. Spencer can't mean that, can he? You don't want to get back to a life you escaped from years ago. It's not who you are.

"If you really think that, it means you don't know me at all." You say, hurt by the fact that Spencer thinks that way of you.

"I thought I did. But after tonight, I'm not so sure anymore."

"I can't believe it. I would have expected something like this from anyone but you, Spencer. Is it because I stopped us before having sex? Are your blue balls talking?"

You know your words sound sharp and raw, but you won't stand there without saying anything to defend yourself.

"What?! No! Do you really think this is all about? Me being sexually frustrated? That's very low, especially coming from you."

"If it's not that, then what the hell is happening? How did we get here? What are you not telling me?" Your voice is desperate at this point. Spencer groans in frustration. How could you be so clueless?

"You know- I really thought you felt it when we kissed. And now, you act like it was nothing!"

"What? What should I have felt?"

Spencer shakes his head. No, he won't expose himself to your rejection again.

"You know what? Just forget it. It's not my business, anyway. I'm just here to be your fake boyfriend. I'm sorry for crossing the line. It won't happen again." Spencer grabs his phone, charger, and his clothes from the floor, ready to leave the room.

"Spencer? Where are you going?"

"I know the room next door is empty. Andrew told me," he says, walking to the door, not sparing you a glance, as he opens it.

"What? Why? No! Don't go. Spencer, please don't do this. Can we talk about it?" You insist, trying to catch his attention. Spencer stops at the open door and turns to you.

"We already did. Goodnight (Y/N). I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you prefer to go to the wedding with another instead of me so that I won't do a ridiculous thing by showing up."

The door closes shut behind him. And you are left in the middle of your bedroom, hurt and confused.

You don't realize when the tears start to roll down until they blur your vision.

-

'Again, again, I let it go, let it go

Cover my mouth, don't let a single word slip

I wouldn't wanna tell you, no, tell you, no

Nothing could be worse than the risk of

Losing what I don't have now

I'm weaker by the minute, though

Is it so bad if I wanna cry out?'

[unabashegirl]

Love Island — part 5

AU. Based on the TV show.

Author's note: Please, please don’t hesitate to send in your requests — whether it’s blurbs, one-shots, or even just a fun idea you want to see come to life. If you're feeling a little shy, no worries at all — you can always send them in anonymously through Tumblr! I’d love to hear from you and create more content you’ll enjoy 🌞💌

⭐️ Please consider joining my Patreon -> Patreon

⭐️ Please consider submitting your one shot request -> Forms

Y/N sat with Chloe, Amber, and Lila on the sun deck, still buzzing from the night. The girls were all leaned in, hanging on her every word as she recounted the details of her date with Harry.

“And then,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing again at the memory, “he asked if he could kiss me. It was so sweet—like, proper gentleman vibes, you know?”

Chloe squealed, clapping her hands. “A proper prince charming moment! I mean, can you even? And the kiss? Was it fireworks or what?”

Y/N laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It was… perfect. He’s definitely not what I expected when he walked in, but I’m glad he surprised me.”

Amber smirked, nudging Y/N’s arm. “Sounds like he’s got you properly smitten.”

Meanwhile, by the pool, Harry was sitting with Lucas, who was grinning ear to ear as Harry shyly recounted his version of the night.

“Mate, she smiled when I asked, and I was like, thank God. Thought I might’ve been reading it all wrong.” Harry ran a hand through his curls, laughing at himself.

Lucas gave him a friendly slap on the back. “You smashed it, man. About time you stepped up. She’s been waiting on you.”

Harry was mid-sip of his water when his phone buzzed on the table. The sharp ding drew the attention of the nearby boys, and Harry picked it up cautiously, already suspecting something was up.

His eyes scanned the message, and his expression shifted from confusion to mild panic. Clearing his throat, he stood up and held the phone high. “I’ve got a text!”

The villa immediately went quiet as everyone turned to listen.

Harry read aloud, his voice steady but slightly unsure: “Harry, please get ready for your next date. A new girl has entered the villa, and she has chosen you to join her for her first date. #IncomingBombshell #DateRoundTwo”

The reaction was instant. The boys erupted into cheers and whistles, while the girls exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Y/N’s heart sank slightly, her lips tightening into a small smile as she tried to hide the twist in her stomach. Chloe, sitting beside her, immediately placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “Don’t overthink it, babe. It’s just a date.”

Across the villa, Lucas laughed, shaking his head as he looked at Harry. “You’ve got a busy week, mate.”

Harry gave him a wry smile, but his gaze instinctively darted to where Y/N was sitting. She was already looking his way, their eyes meeting for a fleeting moment.

The narrator chimed in, ever the cheeky commentator:

"Well, looks like Harry’s dinner date might’ve been the starter, but the villa gods just delivered the main course. Y/N, time to find out if that kiss was sweet enough to keep his attention… or if this new girl’s about to turn his head faster than a spin class!”

Harry stood at the small, secluded patio where the villa hosted its first dates. The table was set simply, with two glasses of chilled lemonade waiting in the evening heat. He fidgeted slightly, running a hand through his curls as he wondered who this new girl might be.

Moments later, she arrived.

The newcomer strode in with confident steps, her posture straight and her smile dazzling. She was striking—tall, with a cascade of dark hair framing her face and eyes that sparkled with mischief. She wore a flowy, green dress that moved elegantly as she approached.

“Harry, right?” she said, extending her hand. Her voice was smooth, her confidence unmistakable. “I’m Sophia. Lovely to meet you.”

Harry smiled warmly, shaking her hand. “Sophia, hi. Nice to meet you too. Welcome to the chaos.”

She laughed as she took her seat. “Oh, I’m ready for it. Believe me.”

They settled into light conversation at first, with Harry asking about her background. Sophia explained she was a marketing executive from Manchester, had a love for traveling, and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

“So,” Sophia said, her tone shifting to something more direct as she leaned slightly closer, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “What’s the situation in the villa? Anyone caught your eye?”

Harry hesitated, not wanting to dive too deep into the complicated dynamics of the house. “Well, yeah. I’ve been getting to know someone—Y/N. We’re sort of… seeing how things go.”

Sophia tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Oh, I see. So it’s early days, then?”

Harry nodded cautiously. “Yeah, you could say that. She’s great.”

Sophia leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she regarded him thoughtfully. “Listen, I get that. She sounds lovely, but let me be straight with you, Harry—I didn’t come here to play it safe. You’re the one I wanted to meet, and I’m not shy about saying it.”

Harry blinked, caught off guard by her candor but unable to hide his amusement. “Straight to the point, then.”

“Always,” Sophia said with a wink. “Look, I’m not saying you have to throw everything away with Y/N, but what if I’m the love of your life? You’ll never know unless you give me a chance.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief at her boldness. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“Not when I see something I want,” she replied confidently, her gaze unwavering. “You’re here for the same reason I am—to find someone who makes you feel something real. So, why not explore it? Worst case, we don’t click, and you can go back to Y/N without any ‘what ifs.’”

Harry leaned back, studying her for a moment. “Very confident”

Sophia grinned. “You’ve no idea, Harry. But you could find out.”

The narrator’s voice chimed in:

"Well, Sophia didn’t come to make friends, that’s for sure. A bold strategy—let’s see if it pays off, or if Harry’s loyalty to Y/N is stronger than a well-executed sales pitch. Grab your popcorn, viewers; things are heating up.”

As Harry stepped back into the villa, the buzz of chatter around the fire pit dulled for a moment as the boys turned to see him. He made his way over to Lucas, who was lounging on one of the outdoor chairs with a drink in hand.

Lucas grinned up at him, already suspecting why Harry had come over. “My turn, mate?”

Harry nodded, holding up his phone. “Yeah, just got the text. She’s waiting for you now. Good luck, mate.”

Before Lucas could even stand, the rest of the boys swarmed around Harry like moths to a flame.

“Alright, give us the rundown,” Zak said, leaning forward eagerly. “What’s she like?”

“Yeah,” added Ethan, his eyes wide with curiosity. “On a scale of one to ten, what are we saying?”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head at their enthusiasm. “She’s… confident. Really confident.”

The boys groaned in frustration. “We don’t want personality yet, mate. Is she fit or not?” Zak pressed, his grin wide.

Harry rolled his eyes but smirked. “Alright, alright. She’s tall, dark hair, green dress. Proper striking, honestly. And yeah, she’s fit.”

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Lucas muttered as he got up, brushing off his shorts. “Anything I should know before I head in?”

Harry gave him a knowing look. “She’s direct. Like, no messing around. Be ready for some bold questions.”

Zak burst out laughing. “Lucas? Handle bold? This I’ve got to see.”

Lucas shot him a playful glare as the boys chuckled. “I’ll be fine, cheers. You just stay here and be jealous.”

As Lucas made his way out of the villa, the boys immediately turned back to Harry, still brimming with questions.

“Did she mention anyone she fancies?” Ethan asked, his curiosity piqued.

Harry hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “She’s here to see where things go, same as everyone else.”

The narrator’s voice chimed in cheekily:

"And by ‘see where things go,’ Harry, you mean straight to you, don’t you? Well, lads, buckle up—looks like Sophia’s confidence is already making waves in the villa!”

Y/N sat on one of the sun loungers with a glass of red wine on her hand but her attention wasn’t on the words. Her eyes flicked toward Harry, who stood surrounded by the boys near the fire pit. He was animated, laughing and gesturing as he described his date with Sophia. The excitement in his tone and the eager reactions from the boys only made her jaw clench tighter.

She had waited patiently for him to come over after his return. Surely, after the date, he’d seek her out—offer her reassurance, a kind word, something. But instead, he’d gone straight to the lads to gush about the new girl.

"Unbelievable," Y/N muttered under her breath.

“What’s got you fuming?” Chloe asked, slipping onto the lounger beside her with a cold drink in hand.

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temple. “It’s Harry. He’s just like the rest of them. I really thought he was different, Chloe. Like, more mature, you know?”

Chloe glanced toward the fire pit, where Harry and the boys were still deep in conversation. “What’s he done now?”

“It’s what he hasn’t done,” Y/N replied, her tone clipped. “He didn’t even come to me first. I mean, after our date, after that kiss…” She shook her head, struggling to find the right words. “It would’ve been nice if he’d just—ugh—checked in with me, reassured me that his head wasn’t going to turn the moment a new girl walked in.”

Chloe winced, clearly trying to pick her words carefully. “Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, caught up in the boys’ banter? It doesn’t mean—”

“No, Chloe,” Y/N cut in, her voice firm. “He should’ve made time for me first. Instead, he’s over there, probably telling them how stunning she is and how confident she came across. And knowing her, she probably told him she doesn’t care that he’s with me, which clearly got him buzzing.”

Chloe gave her a sympathetic look. “So, what now?”

Y/N leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Now? Nothing. I’m not going to chase him. If he wants to act like every other lad in here, fine. But I’m not going to sit around like some mug, waiting for him to decide where his head’s at. He knows where to find me.”

"And Y/N makes her stance crystal clear. Harry, mate, if you were looking for a ‘heads up,’ you’re about to get it—just not the kind you want. Someone fetch the popcorn; it’s getting juicy!”

The villa buzzed with energy as Lucas strode confidently through the main doors, Sophia at his side. His arm was casually draped around her shoulders, and his grin could have lit up the entire space. The rest of the Islanders turned their heads to watch them come in, conversations halting as the pair made their entrance.

Y/N sat at the corner of the sun deck with Chloe, idly swirling the straw in her drink. Her gaze flicked over to Sophia, and she had to admit the girl was stunning. Her dark hair gleamed under the villa lights, and her confidence was palpable—her stride matched Lucas’s with ease, her smile just as radiant.

Chloe nudged Y/N gently. “She’s pretty, yeah?”

“Yeah, she is,” Y/N admitted, her tone even. “But this isn’t about her. It’s about Harry.”

Chloe tilted her head, following Y/N’s line of sight. Across the yard, Harry stood near the fire pit with Zak and Ethan. His head turned slightly as he caught sight of Sophia and Lucas, his expression unreadable for a moment before he joined in on the boys’ laughter and banter.

“That’s what’s bugging me,” Y/N continued, her voice low. “This isn’t some petty jealousy thing. It’s not even about her being beautiful or whatever. I knew this was a game when I signed up. But Harry? He’s the problem.”

Chloe frowned. “Because he hasn’t spoken to you?”

“Exactly,” Y/N said, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “He’s spent the entire evening talking to the boys about how confident she is, how fit she looks—like I don’t even exist. After the date we had, the things he said, the way he kissed me… I thought I’d at least get a bit of reassurance. But no, I’m over here watching her waltz in like nothing’s wrong while he’s acting like we’re just mates.”

"Y/N’s got the clarity of a woman who’s been through it. And as for Harry? Well, mate, seems like you’ve fumbled the ball in the first half. Better come up with a game plan before you’re sent to the bench!"

As the evening buzzed on, the girls continued their conversation with Sophia, who was holding court effortlessly. They sat around the fire pit, the warmth of the flames and their bubbling excitement keeping the energy high.

“So, Sophia,” Amber said again, determined to get answers, “come on, just tell us. Who do you fancy?”

Sophia smiled, her confidence glowing as she twirled her drink in her hand. “Honestly? Everyone’s been so welcoming. But if I had to pick, I do love a guy who’s confident. And my date with Lucas was a great way to kick things off.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t just leave it at that,” Georgia chimed in with a laugh. “Who else caught your eye? You must have noticed someone.”

Sophia leaned back, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Alright, alright. I’ll admit, Harry seems like an interesting guy. There’s something about him, isn’t there?”

The girls giggled and exchanged knowing looks, except for Chloe, who subtly rolled her eyes. She leaned into Y/N and muttered, “I don’t trust her.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What? Why?”

Chloe glanced at Sophia, who was now laughing brightly at something Amber had said. “She’s too polished. Too... perfect. I get that it’s early, but it’s like she’s trying to be everyone’s best friend. Nobody’s that nice straight out the gate.”

Y/N smirked. “Maybe she’s just a people person.”

Chloe scoffed lightly. “Or maybe she’s playing a longer game. Just be careful, yeah?”

Y/N hummed in response, still keeping an eye on Sophia, who had seamlessly charmed the entire group.

The narrator chimed in, perfectly timed:

"Chloe’s not buying Sophia’s act—she’s got her radar up. But whether Sophia’s a charmer or a schemer, it seems she’s got everyone under her spell… for now."

As the evening settled into a quieter rhythm, the villa began to wind down. The laughter and chatter by the fire pit faded as couples peeled off to their respective corners, ready to call it a night. Y/N was the first to step into the bedroom, the soft hum of the air conditioning greeting her as she walked in.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Harry emerging from the bathroom, towel in hand, his curls damp and tousled. He glanced up and caught sight of her, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Alright, love?” he said with a playful wave.

Y/N barely acknowledged him, her lips pressing into a thin line as she strode past without so much as a second glance. Harry’s grin faltered, his hand awkwardly dropping to his side as he watched her head toward her side of the bed.

Frowning, he scratched the back of his neck before making a beeline for the boys’ corner of the villa. Lucas was sprawled on one of the loungers, still mid-chat with Callum. Harry dropped down beside him, his expression puzzled.

“Mate,” Harry started, his voice low, “I’m so confused”

Lucas glanced at him. “What’s happening?”

“Y/N,” Harry clarified. “I just said hi to her, and she walked past me like I wasn’t even there. Proper blanked me.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

Harry threw his hands up. “Nothing! At least, I don’t think so? We had a good laugh earlier today; everything seemed fine.”

Lucas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, if she’s giving you the cold shoulder, you’ve definitely done something. Girls don’t just do that for no reason.”

“Like what, though?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

Lucas glanced around, then spotted Chloe heading toward the bedroom. “Oi, Chloe,” he called out, motioning for her to stop.

Chloe hesitated, her eyebrow arching as she stepped toward them. “What’s up?”

Lucas tilted his head toward Harry. “What’s Y/N’s deal? She’s just given this one the freeze treatment, and he’s clueless about what he’s done.”

Chloe folded her arms, her gaze flicking to Harry. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing! I waved and said hi,” Harry protested.

Chloe sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not about what you said, Harry. It’s probably about what you didn’t say. She’s been stewing since dinner.”

Harry frowned. “Dinner? What about dinner?”

Chloe gave him a look that practically screamed you’re hopeless. “Sophia. The fact that you came back raving about her instead of checking in with Y/N. You left her hanging, mate. She probably thinks your head’s turned.”

Harry blinked, a slow realization dawning on his face. “Bloody hell. I didn’t even think about that.”

Chloe smirked. “Clearly. Better go fix it before it gets worse.”

The narrator chimed in with impeccable timing:

"Harry’s learning the hard way—when it comes to Love Island, actions speak louder than words. And in this villa, silence can be deafening."

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list

TAGLIST: @st-ev-ie, @harrystyleshotwife, @valuunit, @familyshow-orisit, @ellaorchard, @loverrryxo, @dashingday, @harrystyles1d52, @stylessbean, @gem1712, @girlontheblock, @readingrockstar23, @run-for-the-hills

[erindrinkstea]

You're dead to me

Fully Masked! Mark "Invincible" Grayson x F! Reader

TW: Violence, Death, Murder, and Mental Health Themes.

Description:

When Angstrom sent those variants of Invincible through a portal to a wasteland, he accidentally sends Fully Masked! Mark Grayson to a different world.

A world where Mark Grayson dies but you still live.

Main Masterlist | Invincible Masterlist

Note: Don't worry Mark, I love your Mom too.

"We'll just torture you instead. Duh."

"..."

Seeing all these twisted versions of himself made him sick to his stomach. But he understood. He truly did. They didn’t have you. They didn’t have her. And without his mom… without you by his side, he could’ve ended up the exact same way.

That’s why he had done the terrible things in this world. Why he’d committed atrocities he never thought himself capable of. Because he was alone. Because the two people who grounded him—his mom and you—weren’t there.

He didn’t care about the crown.

He didn’t want a throne.

The Viltrum Empire meant nothing to him.

All he wanted was his family.

The only two constants that ever made him feel human. Made him better. Happy.

So when Angstrom came to him and whispered about another world—one where his mom was alive, and you were too—how could he not listen?

But it was a lie. A cruel, soul-crushing lie.

His mom was nowhere to be found. And you… you were dead. Crushed. Torn apart. Just like in that nightmare he could never wake up from. Just blood and broken pieces of the only person he loved.

Tracking down the version of himself responsible was easy. Killing him was even easier.

Painfully so.

"What…?!"

He recoiled, startled as multiple green portals suddenly bloomed in front of them. His jaw clenched as Angstrom's devices flared and sucked each of them into their own vortex.

When he blinked next, he wasn’t in his world anymore.

But he wasn’t with the others either.

Wherever he landed, he doubted this was part of Angstrom’s plan.

──────⊹⊱☕︎︎⊰⊹──────

"Sweetheart, are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Today marked three years since Mark Grayson died.

You gave Debbie a soft smile. “I’m fine. Really.”

She had always been so kind to you, even with everything she’d suffered.

“How are you doing? And how’s Oliver?”

It hadn’t been easy—Omni-Man going rogue. Nolan killing his own son. And then, months later, coming back with a baby in his arms, begging for forgiveness.

Debbie hadn’t forgiven him. But she had agreed to raise Oliver. Because the boy had no one else. His mother was gone, and Nolan couldn’t stay.

Debbie had hesitated. But the moment that baby reached out with curious little hands and cooed at her, she melted. He reminded her too much of her own son—the one she lost too soon.

“Oliver’s growing so fast. Just yesterday, I could still carry him. Now he’s already got friends at school.” She sighed, tired but proud.

“Mom! Is that sis?”

Oliver’s voice rang out as he raced into the room. He had started calling you ‘sister’ after all the time you spent caring for him. You never minded.

“Oliver,” you smiled, catching him in a hug as he tackled your waist.

“I CAN FLY!” he announced, eyes wide. “I tripped on the stairs yesterday and floated instead of falling!”

Your breath caught. “Really?” You looked up at Debbie, who nodded with a small smile.

Just like his brother.

You remembered the first time Mark floated instead of falling—he’d looked so proud, so thrilled. That memory felt sacred now.

“That’s amazing,” you told Oliver.

“I know, right?” he grinned, puffing up with pride. So much like Mark.

You swallowed the ache in your chest. God, please don’t let him turn out like Nolan.

“How about you help your mom clean the house with your powers? I’m just going to take a quick walk.”

A lie, of course. You just didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Okay!” he chirped, bouncing off with Debbie, who caught your eye and gave a subtle nod. She understood.

──────⊹⊱☕︎︎⊰⊹──────

Mark drifted above the unfamiliar skyline.

This wasn’t his world.

It wasn’t the one from before, either. Somewhere new entirely.

Strangely, no one tried to stop him. No heroes. No threats. Just… wide-eyed stares and hushed gasps as he flew overhead.

People weren’t afraid. Just surprised.

He wasn’t a villain here, it seemed. Not yet.

Maybe this version of him had done something right for once.

He stayed in the air, keeping low, keeping quiet. He was tired—sick of the bloodshed, of the failures, of chasing ghosts.

He just wanted to go home.

But this world… something about it felt different. Warmer.

And he had a gut feeling he wasn’t here by accident after all. Maybe it was fate.

He could’ve missed it. Could’ve flown right past, too focused on his goal—too desperate to find a way back home.

But then, in a split second, his eyes caught something. Someone.

A figure.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

“...Darling?” he breathed, voice soft, disbelieving. His body stopped mid-air, frozen. He just hovered there, staring at the figure walking below.

God. It was you.

You were alive.

“Darling,” he whispered again—and this time, he didn’t hesitate. His direction shifted instantly, diving toward the one person he had torn worlds apart for.

You didn’t see him coming. You were too caught up in your grief, still walking slowly down the sidewalk, tears silently streaming down your face.

You were wiping at them, frustrated, exhausted.

"My love?"

That voice.

You froze in place.

Not again. You thought the hallucinations had stopped. Thought you were healing.

But here you were, hearing him again—hearing that voice you would have given anything to hear just one more time.

You didn’t turn around.

You couldn’t handle the disappointment.

“I can’t do this,” you muttered, voice cracking as more tears welled up. “Not today.”

Your hands went back to your face, desperate to rub away the hurt.

“Easy there,” a voice said gently, a presence stepping in. “Stop rubbing so hard. Geez, your eyes are all red. What made my lovely girl cry so much?”

You froze again.

Hands—not yours—brushed against your cheeks, careful and warm. Soft thumbs wiped away your tears like they had all the time in the world.

It felt so real.

Too real.

“You, you idiot,” you hiccupped, unable to hold it in. “It’s your stupid death anniversary. You couldn’t even give me one day of peace.”

Your sobs were broken, helpless.

The man—Mark—blinked at you like that was news.

“So… I’m dead here, huh? he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Makes things a bit easier.”

You cried harder. “You’re not real. And it hurts. It’s not fair.”

“But I am,” he said softly. “I’m real. And so are you.”

His hands were still cupping your face with that same gentle care he always had. His eyes searched yours with aching tenderness.

He looked… different.

Worn. Tired.

Hair a little longer. Shoulders a bit heavier.

But still him. Still your Mark.

The warmth. The love.

That unmistakable feeling that wrapped around you like a blanket in winter.

“You’re dead,” you said again, as if reminding yourself.

He hummed, nonchalant. “Not anymore. You were dead too, remember? But now you’re alive.” A dark glint passed through his eyes. “And I’ll make sure it stays that way. No matter what.”

His voice was calm, certain. Steady in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

“Now,” he said, lips curling into a half-smile, “how about we go see Mom? It’s going to be one hell of a reunion, don’t you think?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Was this real?

It had to be.

“Mark…?”

──────⊹⊱☕︎︎⊰⊹──────

[potatoplace]

if you feel inspired maybe 💜🩵 x reader with 💖 and maybe 💍 -🐰

A Funny Little Feeling

Feysand x Reader

Warnings: none!

💜🩵 Feysand 💖 fluff 💍 proposal

Notes: okay SO my inspo was those tiktoks where partners take their girlfriends out to get their nails done before they propose to them that night, and they tell them to dress nice, have nice stuff planned, and the girl suspects it the whole time but is still happy when it actually happens 🥹 CUTENESS also I'm so tired posting this lol I need to get to bed 😂 Request Post

18+ only pls

🩵💜🤍💜🩵

All day, you had felt... an energy.

From the moment you woke, seeing Rhys and Feyre both smiling down at you, before acting like they'd been in the middle of getting out of bed, you'd had a funny feeling that something was going on with the two of them.

Your morning went normally enough, the three of you sharing a bath, then having breakfast at the kitchen island together. But when the two of them suddenly had the day off?

As High Lord and Lady?

You were suspicious.

The three of you went shopping, visiting all of your favorite stores. Which wouldn't normally be strange, as they were ones that Feyre enjoyed as well, but with only you buying anything?

They'd insisted on buying you a whole new outfit, complete with a new set of jewelry. And after that, Feyre had lead you to the nail salon, an even more suspicious action as you rarely had them painted.

And now here you were, being walked hand in hand with both of your partners along the Sidra after a lovely meal at your favorite restaurant. Feyre and Rhys had insisted on you wearing your new dress, heels, and jewelry, even a tiara picked from Feyre's personal collection.

You felt like a princess between the two of them, your heart completely at peace in this moment. No worries about your job, or any court matters that you were aware of.

No, right now was perfect.

There was a cluster of moon-lilies ahead, lit brightly under the gentle glow coming from above.

Feyre started walking faster, tugging you along and letting out a soft giggle when she stopped suddenly, causing you to bump into her.

Just like you had when you'd met them.

"Oops, I'm sorry darling," she said breathily as she turned around, absolutely breathtaking in the moonlight. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" You smiled softly at her as you nodded. "Good. Have I told you how much I love you tonight?"

You nodded again, this time with butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach.

"And have I told you how much I love you tonight?" Rhys asked as he wound his arms around your middle from behind, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"Mhm," you hummed, leaning back against him. "I love both of you so much, did you know that?"

"We sure do," Feyre cooed as she closed in on your front, lacing her arms around Rhys's neck and caging you between them. "Did you know we love you so much we bought you something special?"

You cocked your head to the side slightly. What you were wearing?

A ring came into view, a silver band with an oval diamond, surrounded by small amethysts and blue diamonds.

The fluttering in your stomach grew stronger, your eyes flicking to Feyre's hopefully.

"We also have a very special question to ask you," Rhys said softly into your ear.

You were already nodding, not even waiting for them to formally ask you.

"Yes, yes, I'll marry you!" you cried happily, throwing your arms around Feyre and planting a kiss to her lips, before turning to repeat the actions with Rhys.

Both of them were grinning at you, still held between them. "Well, we had hoped maybe you'd like to tell our friends who are out at Rita's then head home for the night? To... Celebrate?" Feyre asked, giggling when you nodded right away.

"Yes, then those busybodies can discuss it between themselves, and we can have fun," you giggled, already pulling them towards Rita's.

🩵💜🤍💜🩵

[theoceanoasis]

Fantasy Au idea

One day Soundwave ends up getting deadly sick leaving the cassettes worried sick as they can't do anything but make Soundwave comfortable and hope he gets better. As Soundwave gets weaker each day, Megatron orders his best medics and scouts to try and find a cure for he can't lose his closest friend and secret love.

After a few weeks Shockwave reports that he found something or rather someone who could cure Soundwave the God of the Sun and Fire, Rodimus. The purple mech then goes on how if they visit the temple in Nyon and present an offering to Rodimus that Soundwave would surely be cured. Though Shockwave warns that Megatron might be forced to offer something he'd lose forever as the Sun God has been known to request such items before.

"Megatron."

Ravage walked over, looking exhausted and stressed.

"He's getting worse every day. If something isn't done soon..."

"I know."

He followed Ravage to Soundwaves' room, trying to ignore the smell of sick. He'd been ill for a few weeks now. At first, he tried to continue his work, but as time progressed, he got sicker and sicker until he collapsed. After that, he couldn't even get out of bed.

He sat next to him, unsure if Soundwave could even tell. He held his hand and stayed with him, just reading, hoping he'll wake up by some miracle, he'll get better. It was hard to ignore how bad he'd gotten, how his frame rattled. How his systems slowed. The way he couldn't even turn on his optics anymore. Couldn't even respond. He was hooked up to so many tubes and equipment,t all of them keeping him alive at this point.

"I'll find a way to save you."

He squeezed his hand. Soundwave had no idea. He'd never had the chance to tell him, and he might never get the chance, but he loved him. He's loved him for a long time, and if he ever got better, he'd tell him how he feels.

Medics come in and out, checking on Soundwave and updating him on his condition. All of them had grim looks on their faces despite being the best of the best.

Then, Shockwave came, having found something that might work.

"You won't like it."

"What is it?"

"There have been rumors of a god who can save him."

He scoffed, having lost faith a long time ago.

"Are you sure this isn't a scam?"

"The people of Nyon claim he is legit."

"And what do I need to do to get this 'god" to help?"

"You must go to his temple in Nyon and offer a gift. Ask him to help cure Soundwave."

He sighed. Even though he didn't think it would work at this point, he was desperate and willing to try anything."

"Then let's go immediately Soundwave is running out of time."

Shockwave nodded, and he picked out some fancy trinket that would surely appease the god. Nyon was a poor city, and the trinket was probably more expensive than what he got in a year of hustling people.

When they arrived at the temple, the priests only let him inside. They took him to an altar, and he looked around, wondering where this "god" would appear from.

"Rodimus, god of the sun and fire. Patron saint of Nyon, I humbly ask for your audience."

He read the script, trying not to cringe as he kneeled before the altar.

The room began to heat, and with a blinding light, Rodimus appeared. He was a beautiful mech whose paint suited him well with its shiny reds and golds. He held up his offering, and the god didn't even glance at it.

"What have you come here for?"

He tilted his head, giving him a curious look.

"I can tell you are skeptical. Which means the reason for coming here must be important."

He barely held back a scoff, not wanting to be rude even if he thought the mech was a charlatan.

"My friend is sick and even the best doctors can not help him."

"You want me to heal him?"

"Yes."

"I can do that, but I must warn you that asking such a thing comes with a heavy price. You will lose something important to you."

"I agree."

He assumed the mech would ask for money and was willing to dish out however much if it meant Soundwave would live.

"Take this and place it on your friend's chest. Then when the sun is highest, he will be heated."

The mech held out a golden piece of metal with his face on it. He stared, wondering how vain he could be, just as the "god" disappeared.

On the way back, he tried not to complain about his time being wasted, after all, he was the one who asked to come. He turned the metal piece over in his hands, giving it an unimpressed look.

Although the mech hadn't taken his offering, he still felt scammed and highly doubted this would work.

When they returned, Ravage was waiting with a scared look on his face. His spark froze because Soundwave didn't have much time. Rushing to his room, he collapsed by his side, apologizing for leaving, especially over something so dumb.

Soundwave didn't respond, and he looked at the metal piece still in his hands. Having nothing to lose, he placed it on his chest and waited. When the sun rose to its highest peak, the room became unbearably warm.

He took a step back in surprise, wondering what was happening, when Rodimus appeared in a blinding light. He looked down at Soundwave and gently touched his face.

His hand then moved down to his chest, and he placed both hands on top. Closing his optics, he noticed a soft, comforting light that slowly consumed Soundwave. He watched in shock as his body was healed right before his optics. When Rodimus finished, he looked exhausted, and Soundwave finally turned on his optics.

He sighed in relief, watching as Soundwave sat up.

"How are you feeling?"

He asked only for Soundwave to ignore him. Instead, he was staring at Rodimus completely transfixed.

"Rodimus."

The mech whispered like a prayer, and the god sat in front of him.

Soundwave reached out, gently holding his face, and the god had tears in his optics.

"I remember you... I'm supposed to protect you. I am your lord protector."

"What?"

He looked between the two as Rodimus nodded, tears falling as he held Soundwave's arms.

"I've missed you so much."

Soundwave leaned over and kissed Rodimus, shattering his spark. His engine revved as he glared at Rodimus.

"What did you do to him? Soundwave isn't your lord protector, you freak!"

Rodimus flinched, and his oldest friend glared at him.

"Don't you dare talk to him like that."

"Soundwave."

He tried to argue.

"He's done something to your head. You need to snap out of it."

"No. He saved me. For the first time in a long time, I know who I'm supposed to be. I remember now. Rodimus is my god, and he is my love. Our sparks are bound as one, and our love will last an eternity."

He glared at Rodimus because Soundwave had clearly lost it.

"What have you done to him?"

"I restored his memories of our past lives. When you came to me, I had a vision that Soundwave was the one you were trying to save. I know about your feelings about him, which is why I warned you. When I healed him, I healed him completely, including returning his memories to him. I know he is the most precious thing to you, but with his memories returned, he will have to leave you. Soundwave is my lord protector. He will be mine in every life, just as I will be his. Our sparks are one, and our love is eternal."

Rodimus held out a hand, and Soundwave easily took it. He tried to protest, but with a blinding light, they were gone.

[nickandjuneendgame]

Nick and June scene

Today, for my first post ever, I'd like to talk about one scene in particular. Obviously, I love all the Nick-June scene ( I mean, I'm literaly obsessed with them, but I'm keeping that for another post. And for my therapist 😅).

So, in season 2 episode 13, we have, for me, one of the most beautiful scene between Nick and June ever. It's one of my favorite and let me tell you why.

In this scene, June is in her bedroom after being slapped by Fred just a moment before. ( She slapped him back as well, and gosh, it felt so good to watch!!! You go girl !!! ). Rita is in the room with her and a moment after, who's coming too ? Our dear Nick ! He looked upset, worried for June. As she walks by him, Rita says " You're girlfriend is a badass ! ". And then, he smiled. Not just because he found that funny, but because, for the first time, someone called June his girlfriend. Not offred. Not the handmaid. Not even June. But his girlfriend. Someone else knows about them being together. It's not just their secret anymore. Someone they can both trust is aware of what's going on between them. Maybe not fully, but enough. And we can see on his face that this is something big to him. Something he never could, or hoped to hear one day. " Your girlfriend".

June told him " it's okay" as soon as Rita leaves the room. She repeated that multiple times, because she knows that Nick needs to hear that. Not just because he's worried about her but because he feels so much guilt, so much sadness about Eden. Eden just got murdered for falling in love with someone else. And he feels like he should have been nicer to her, that it's his fault, in a way, that she died. And he can't forgive himself for that. But in the same time, he loves June so much ( and Eden being only 15, let's be honest) I don't think he was able to handle things differently without feeling like he betrayed June and the way he feels about her. And we can see all that just by the look in the eyes of Max. What an amazing actor, really ! No words, not a single one, but we still see how much pain he's in just with his eyes. And June knows it too. Of course she knows. So she stands up, walks towards him and gently touch his cheek saying that it's okay. And we can see Nick truly showing his vulnerability, his fragility to June ( and to us ) perhaps for the first time. He didn't hide it anymore to protect June or himself. He is his true self at this exact moment. He desperately needed June to comfort him, to show him that this is not his fault. That he is not alone. Because Nick always had to be alone in his life. Not because he wanted to. But because people always bailed on him. He never had someone he can rely on. Until June. He always had June's back. He always protected her. But who protected him ? Who was there for him when he desperately needed it ? With whom can he show his true self, his true feelings ? June is his person. The one who he had and will fight for. And at that moment, he needed to hear that everything is gonna be okay. That he's not alone anymore. That he can rely on someone, on June. And June knows that. That's why this moment is so important. I like that we were able to see Nick's fragility and to see June saving him where we were used to see Nick saving her over and over again. He finally can show who he is, his failures, his weeknesses and be open. He needed that so much. And we can see that with only his expressions, his body language, without a single word.

After that, June takes Nick to finally see his daughter. Something he wanted for so long ! Something he never thought he could do. We never saw Nick so full of emotions before. Holding his daughter in his arms, with June by his side, is something that he was longing for so long. He didn't think he would ever be able to do that. And once more, we can see all of that with only his body language, his expressions, his eyes. For a moment, they are a real family. And it's important because that's something he really wanted but can't have in gilead. To be a family with June and their baby. This scene, with Nick holding his baby in his arms for the first time ( and in his head, perhaps for the last time ) is magical. We can see how much it means for both of them. And that shot where we see Rita smiling watching them! This small moment of pure happiness, so rare in Gilead.

And then, the first " I love you " from June to Nick. The first time she acknowledge her feelings for him, out loud. The first time she really opens up to him in this way. And he needed to hear those words. We can see how relief he is, how much it means to him to hear that she, in fact, really loves him. He always doubted that she can ever really feels this way about him. That he was worthy of her love. I think, deep down, that he always thought that she was too good for him. He said it himself later in the show : " I'm nothing ". But in that moment, the first time she says I love you, he truly believes her. He has her love, and they are a family. That's all he ever wanted. Even if it's just for a while. This moment is theirs. A beautiful bubble of happiness in this horrible world.

So, that's it. That's why this scene means so much to me. I can watch it and watch it all over again and never be bored of it. ( In fact, I can never be bored of any of their scenes actually 😅). I'm so sorry for my bad english, this is not my language. I hope that it's understandable.

What about you ? What is your favorite scene, or at least one of your favorite ? The one that you could watch over and over again ?