#long enough to get so depressed that i cried in my car after every shift

[mooifyourecows]

Have you considered looking into work-from-home jobs? I’m not sure what field you’d be looking into, but that might reduce some of the anxiety of the process. A zoom interview might be required, but you could probably see if you could do camera-off.

Based on research I’ve done in the past, script-writing and editing jobs can often be done remotely! You do have to be wary of fake offers, but those are often the ones that seem too good to be true. You’re intelligent, so you can probably spot those easily.

Regardless, take a deep breath and remind yourself: if they don’t want to hire you, it wasn’t meant to be in the first place. Work on solidifying your resume and building your portfolio. You already have lots of pre-written material you could use as references!

I hope this isn’t too much coming from a stranger, but we’re all rooting for you!

Yeahhh... tbh I don't really have much of a resume. I had one soul sucking retail job about ten years ago that my uncle helped me get on account of me being the equivalent of the world's most pathetic-est sopping wet beast in interviews 🥲 and I wound up getting fired in the end for having the audacity to call in sick 4 times a year instead of 3! I know, I know, I'm horrible and lazy and undeserving of the 8$ an hour they were paying me to lift heavy boxes and deal with rude middle aged women 9 hours a day 😮‍💨

I'm kinda wary about getting a job doing any sort of writing since writing is what I like to do for fun and relaxation. If it turned into a soul sucking activity for me I'd be pretty boned. Getting donations to write chapters is different because I'm getting money to write what I love and want to write anyway, but I don't want to start associating my favorite thing with work, ya know?

I know that kinda limits my options though. Especially since I ain't got no skills that could be used remotely beyond that. I'd love to have a part time retail job that I could just show up a couple times a week, do some menial tasks for a few hours with minimal human interaction, and then go home. That's my ideal job. But the only jobs available near me are full time or have requirements I do not meet.

I know, excuses, excuses! But I'll survive. I might have to sell a kidney but I'm sure I'll live (jkjk things aren't that dire, I promise)

Thanks for the advice though! It's been a really long time since I've had to work and the prospect is terrifying but with any luck it won't literally kill me 🤞

[bemacmom]

What Postpartum Anxiety and Depression Felt Like for Me

We got home from the hospital, the safe haven for new moms. Everything was going so well. We were there for five days, including the time we labored. I never lacked anything, never needed anything. We were taken care of in every way possible. Then, we left.

As we made our way home, the anxiety started to set in. Does she fit correctly in her car seat? Are the straps too tight? Too loose? Is her head going to fall over and make her suffocate? I sat in the backseat with her just to be safe. She did okay on the 8 minute drive home.

We entered the house and everything felt different. The air wasn't the same. The couch didn't look as inviting, neither did the bed. Showering was out of the question. I didn't want to sit down with her. Nothing was as clean as it was in the hospital. What if she got dog hair in her mouth? On her clothes? What if I didn't swaddle her correctly? What if she didn't like her bassinet? Would I be able to sleep? She didn't and I didn't.

My husband and I started out that first night on a shift schedule where I would stay up with her for the first half of the night and then wake him up to stay with her for the second half. We did that for almost two weeks. One of us had to be up with her while she was sleeping. That's the only way I could get through the night.

And night time was the hardest. I was okay during the day, even if I got less than one hour of sleep the night before. When the sun was up, everything felt manageable. It felt okay for a little while. But when the sun started to set, it meant that quiet and sleeplessness was just a little while away. I felt more alone at night, despite that being the only time I had my husband around. I felt dark and weird and sad and helpless. And I worried so much about my daughter.

I would burst into tears for so many reasons. I loved her so much. I was overwhelmed by my love for her, but I was also so sad. And I felt so guilty about being sad, because I was supposed to only be happy. I just did the most amazing thing and brought the most amazing life into this world and I was... sad? No, that didn't feel right. She deserved more than that. I argued with my husband, who only sometimes understood postpartum. I fought with him to the point where I wasn't sure if we would be okay. I mourned our marriage from "before." And that's how I saw it: the "before" and the "after."

"Before" her - that was easy. "Before" her, we could focus on ourselves. I could stay up however long I wanted, go to bed when I wanted, move when I wanted, piss when I needed. Nothing got in the way of that. Nothing interrupted my life. But it felt like she did. And I could never say it. I could never think it, but I missed those days. And I didn't know what I had gotten myself into. And that made me cry. And I cried for crying. I cried for even letting myself go that far. I cried for not understanding, for not knowing what to do and how to handle her - how to be a mom, how to have a new baby, how to be happy with all the changes all the time.

On the worst days, I wished I could go back to the hospital and just stay there forever - or at least until she went to preschool. I felt safe there, emotionally and physically. I did have the opportunity to go back and see the lactation consultant because breastfeeding. There was comfort to be found in those appointments, but they never lasted long enough it seemed. And then we made several visits to the pediatrician because she wasn't gaining weight like they wanted her to because breastfeeding. We came up with plans to take care of the weight issue, but I would have liked to chat with those doctors and nurses for... ever?

I found myself unable to go home when I left the doctor's offices. I needed to stay out of the house, but it seemed like everyone questioned me. "Oh my goodness, you're only three weeks postpartum?? HOW are you here right now?" And then they'd ask to look at the baby. I didn't mind. I liked showing her off, but I also liked not having to chat with so many people in one outing. It was nice to wear her in her carrier for this reason - her face was covered and people were less inclined to bother us if I just kept it moving. No cumbersome strollers getting in the way. Not that I was on any particular mission, but still. I needed to get out so that I could breathe some fresh air and reconnect with myself by showing my daughter all my favorite places and doing all my "normal" things with her.

It helped. I got to know her in a completely different light. Eventually, I didn't have to mourn "before" anymore, because my "before" started to blend into my "after" and it was beautiful. I slowly fell in love with this life, this new role. And I am still finding different reasons to love it. The medicine has helped, too.

It was the pediatrician who told me to talk to my OB about a prescription to help my anxiety and depression. If there is one piece of advice I would give, it is to BE HONEST. Be honest with yourself. Be honest with your partner/friends/family. Be honest with your doctor, especially. It was the best thing I could've done for myself and my family.

It took a couple of weeks to kick in, but once I started taking medicine, everything changed.

My daughter is seven weeks old today, and we are doing better than ever. I am on Citalopram and I feel better than I have in a very long time. I cosleep with my baby (her in a separate sleeper in the bed), which is not recommended by the experts, but is recommended by mothers who have to protect their mental health at some point in this game (myself included). She sleeps through the night, which really only means she sleeps when she's not eating. And she is gaining weight, getting bigger every day. Breastfeeding is going well now that my supply is established and her latch is stronger. It took us all of seven weeks to get here, but we did it. I don't have to worry about the chemical imbalance in my brain or my radical hormones messing with me as I learn life as a new mom and she learns life as a baby.

Most days still present their challenges - things that are overwhelming or hard, or overwhelmingly hard... things that make me feel helpless and frustrated. Postpartum isn't easy and it is a state of being that new moms are in for a very long time. It helps knowing that you are not alone in any of it. There are great resources out there - even "mom-fluencers" on social media apps helped to get me smiling after some particularly hard days. If you are in the thick of it, reach out. Let's chat. Don't do this by yourself. Know that you are capable and called to this life - this role - and you are equipped to take it on and do it amazingly. You were meant to be this little one's parent and you will succeed in it. Don't give up on yourself. I'm rooting for you.

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Hatefuck

Is everything okay?

wooyoung x fem reader

Trigger warnings: depressive episode, blackmail

Content warnings: reader has a really shitty ex deadass idk what to put here cause there’s no smut but you’ll see what’s up soon

Summary: you’re finally a normal couple.....right??

Word count: 5118

A/N: so this one is a bit shorter butttttttt i didn’t want to just resolve everything in one go lmao anyways i kinda cried over this and my beta reader was shook so yeah. feel free to screech at me lmao as always consider following me here or on my main (and don’t forget those notifications so you know when i post!). hard thoughts are welcome!!! and maybe check out my ko-fi? i take commissions!

Tags: @starlight-night0 @teezers99 @alecanal93 @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @brit97 @seokwoosmole​ @hyuckilstan​

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Story below the cut

One year. That’s how long you’d had feelings for him. It had been eight months since that day at the condo and things had been amazing. You’d had your share of arguments like any other couple and somehow it only made you love him more. You were thrilled that after everything, you could still be a normal couple. And in normal couple fashion, he’d just asked for you to live together.

 “Wait, like…here? Or at my place?” You asked as you pushed your laptop aside and reclined on his bed. It was Monday and you were visiting for a study date yet again. You’d spent almost every afternoon this semester studying together since you once again shared every class aside from the ones you had added when you picked up your minor in world religions studies. Funny how a minor interest had turned into part of your life plan.

 “I think me moving in with you would be a better idea, all things considered.” He hummed as he pushed his laptop aside as well and raised his arms over his head, stretching out his spine. “Obviously I refuse to mooch and I’d be more than willing to pay my own part. We‘d split housework too.”

 “I sure hope so.” You rolled your eyes as you let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, I don’t think me coming here would be good for anyone involved. The others would never get proper sleep.” You teased. You’d made it a habit not to get too intimate while you were visiting him because he’d learned pretty quickly how to make you scream.

 “That’s true.” He chuckled, leaning over you as he shifted so he was on all fours. “I don’t think I’d want anybody else hearing your pretty sounds anyways. Except maybe the neighbors.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed again despite the soft blush that crept over your cheeks at his comment about your sounds. “I think by now they all know my name and probably hate seeing my car out front.”

 “Mm well that sounds like a them problem. We haven’t gotten any noise complaints and I don’t think I’ll be changing anything until that happens.” You hummed, slipping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a quick kiss before getting serious again. “Let’s do it. I won’t have much time during the semester to help so we should either fast-track it over spring break or wait until classes end. But then I’m starting that internship and-.”

 “I don’t wanna wait. I wanna wake up to you every morning.” His words made your heart flutter and you let out a soft whine as your cheeks heated up. He only chuckled as he watched you pout, leaning down to kiss your nose. “I love you so much, y/n.”

 “I love you even more, Wooyoungie.” You whispered, your eyes slipping shut when he kissed your nose. Then you felt his lips on yours and you released a pleased hum. It was a sweet kiss. Despite his chaotic nature, he was usually so gentle with you and it made your heart squeeze almost painfully in your chest whenever he treated you like fine china.

 Just as you parted for air, Hongjoong opened the door with a knock. He wrinkled his nose in playful disgust at the sight of Wooyoung hovering over you, both of you breathing a little heavy. “Haven’t we been subjected to that enough?” You couldn’t hope to stifle the obnoxious laugh you let out at his words as he shook his head. “Look, dinner’s ready. Stop sucking face and come eat.”

 He left the door open as he walked away, much like a parent would do after interrupting their daughter making out with a boy. You rolled your eyes as both of you got up from the bed, trying not to burst into laughter again as you made your way to the dining room. “Joongie, you’re always so dramatic.” You taunted as you sat between him and Wooyoung.

 “I wouldn’t have to be dramatic if you two weren’t a couple of horny teenagers.” He scolded with a soft laugh as everyone got settled at the table.

 “Yeah, you two are always so loud.” San snorted, tucking himself behind Yunho when Wooyoung made out like he was gonna dive over the table.

 “We weren’t even doing anything, dumbass.” Wooyoung defended as he tried not to dissolve into laughter. You were going to jump into the conversation again when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out only to find something that soured your mood entirely.

 Your ex had sent you a message. You didn’t look at it, you needed to be able to stomach your food, but just seeing his name appear on your screen was enough to bother you. You already hated his guts and never wanted to hear from him again but you were even more pissed that he had created another Instagram account just to send you a message after you’d blocked him on everything four years ago. Wooyoung - and everyone else - seemed to notice your sudden shift in mood and you felt a hand on your thigh. “Everything okay, babe?”

 His words brought you back to reality and you glanced around the table only to find everyone staring at you with concern. You turned back to face your boyfriend and flashed a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, just something stupid an old friend sent me.” He clearly didn’t buy it but nodded slowly as you turned to face the others. “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

 You’d grown extremely close with the others over the course of the last year and all of them saw you as their sister. Well, except Seonghwa, but he was getting over that. You’d forever appreciate and admire his grace when you rejected him. It went much smoother than how things had gone with Wooyoung. You still teased Wooyoung about that. Whenever he brought up Seonghwa’s confession just to get on his nerves, you’d jump in with that reminder, which always kept him from actually getting into a fight - which, to be honest, he’d probably deserve any beatings he got from Seonghwa since he could never shut his damn mouth.

 Oddly enough, one of the things you used to hate the most about him suddenly became your favorite thing about him. The man never shut up. But now you appreciated his incessant chatter, even when you were busy or upset. It was soothing somehow and it started to feel like home. They started to feel like home.

 So once again, you allowed yourself to find solace in the noise, your irritation dissipating. You joined in on the jokes and storytelling as everyone tucked in. If you’d spared a glance in your boyfriend’s direction, you would’ve seen him looking at you like you hung all the stars in the universe. Everyone else noticed his lovesick expression but no one said anything. They were happy he’d straightened himself out and made things better with you so they stayed silent, watching in amusement as he hung on your every word.

 He wasn’t solely focused on you in the present moment though. He wondered what could’ve gotten you so upset when you were having a good time teasing Hongjoong - which you’d started doing after getting cozy with Wooyoung over spring break because you wanted to be annoying like your boyfriend - and his mind replayed the way your face fell the moment you looked at your phone. He wanted to know what was bothering you. He’d become extremely protective after getting together and he wanted to be the one to solve all your problems.

 Dinner passed almost too quickly and within what felt like minutes, you were standing at the sink, shoulder to shoulder with Wooyoung as you washed the dishes. Things were quiet at first as he passed you the first plate to dry and a fond smile settled on your lips as you remembered the first time you’d helped him with the dishes. That night had been what sent your heart hurtling towards him. But he broke the silence, and thus your trance, as he handed you another plate.

 “What really happened earlier?” He asked, glancing at you as your fingers brushed and his heart jumped. He had a way of looking at you that always made you flush a soft shade of rose and you knew you couldn’t hide anything. It was disarming. You shook your head and looked back down at the dishes, your smile fading.

 “It’s fine. An ex messaged me. I haven’t bothered looking at what he said but just seeing his name irritated me.” You put the plate down on top of the first one and waited for another, looking at him expectantly. But he didn’t hand it over. He wanted to know if everything was really okay. You should’ve known that he wouldn’t let this go so easily. “Babe, it’s fine, really. You already know I’ll tell you if something is wrong.” You looked back down at your hands as you took the plate he was holding. “We wasted too much time not communicating. I’m not gonna start hiding shit.” Your voice was surprisingly soft considering the violent urges your ex brought out.

 He was quiet for a moment as he washed another dish before his voice filled the (limited) space between you. “I just worry about you. I know you don’t like to show when you're upset, look at how you hid everything aside from anger when I was being an ass. But if there’s anything wrong, I want to help you.”

 “I know.” Your hands stilled and you looked up from the plate you were drying, offering a genuine smile to reassure him. “I know, Woo. But I promise, right now I’m okay.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek and he relaxed. With him pacified for now, you settled back in and smiled softly to yourself. “Remember the first time I helped you with the dishes?”

 “Oh, when I did this?” He asked as he wiped his wet hands on your face. You let out a soft squeal and smacked him square in the chest as you dissolved into a fit of giggles. Just like that night, he continued to wipe his wet hands on your cheeks as soon as you finally had them dry again. Just like that night, you were breathless when he stopped and you had stars in your eyes as you stood toe to toe with him. “You’re so pretty.” He whispered as he brought a hand up to your neck.

 A soft blush dusted your cheeks at his words as he caught your lips in a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pulling him in as close as possible. The kiss was brief and sickeningly sweet. When you pulled back to look up at him, he had the dumbest grin on his face and it was clear he was smitten. “I really fucking won.”

 You giggled softly and leaned up to kiss his nose. “So did I.” You murmured as you came down off your tiptoes. Everything was quiet for a moment as you admired each other, the chatter from the living room fading away as you focused solely on him. “I’m so proud of you, Youngie.” You whispered, bringing a hand up to rest on his cheek, your fingers splaying out while your thumb gently caressed his cheekbone.

 Just like that night, he looked close to tears. You’d learned words of affirmation never failed to make him emotional, partly due to his family rarely verbally expressing love in favor of demonstrating it. Your words, simple as they were, made his heart soar. He didn’t know if you meant in general or if you meant you were proud of the way he’d changed. Maybe you meant his academic success. He had no clue, he just knew he loved hearing your voice saying the words he’d craved his whole life. “You’re gonna make me all emotional if you keep saying that.” He whispered back, his voice hoarse as he clearly tried to fight back his feelings.

 “It’s not a bad thing if you do get emotional though. You being vulnerable means a lot to me and-”

 “Yeah but if it’s something special to you then I want only you to see it.” He flashed a smile as he forced back the lump in his throat. It was a copout. He always felt weak when he showed any sort of negative emotion and this was him blatantly refusing to let anyone but you see him while he was weak. You knew this.

 So you nodded and gave him a small smile. “I must be pretty special then.” You teased as you untangled yourself from him. “Come on, let’s get this finished. We’ve still got work to do and I’ve got to get home before midnight.” You sighed. You hated having to leave him and you couldn’t wait for him to move in.

  ————————————

  No. No no no no no. This could not be happening. The clip was dated sometime during fall break only a few months ago but you hadn’t been with him in almost five years. So who was this? Because you sure as hell hadn’t fucked your ex last semester.

 The message you’d received from your ex was a video of him fucking someone who looked exactly like you. You didn’t open it until you were back home and the second you did, you felt sick. You knew logically that you hadn’t done anything but fuck she looked so much like you that even you were doubting it. What if Wooyoung saw?

 The message from your ex also contained a blatant threat.

 @th-rlst-mf: It’d be a shame if that summer internship you have lined up fell through because there’s evidence of you having sex on the property

 You couldn’t make it to your bathroom fast enough, your dinner forcing its way up your throat as it quickly evacuated your stomach. He was going to ruin your life. You retched for what felt like ages before you finally flushed the toilet and slumped back against the wall. You grabbed your phone from where you’d dropped it when you fell to your knees and opened the message again, taking a shaky breath as you watched the video a second time.

 Trembling fingers tapped out a response just as he sent another message.

 You: What the hell do you want from me

 @th-rlst-mf: Oops, my finger slipped while waiting for you to answer

 With that message, you saw a screenshot. He’d sent it. He’d fucking sent the video to the manager overseeing your summer internship. You dissolved into tears the second you read the recipient name. This couldn’t be happening. It didn’t feel real.

 Your phone buzzed again but you didn’t look at it. You couldn’t look at it. You slowly dragged yourself from the bathroom floor and shuffled to your bed, still sobbing. You couldn’t breathe. Before you flopped down on your bed, you went and threw your window open, needing the fresh air. You then threw yourself down on the bed, not bothering to change into your pajamas. You cried for what felt like hours until finally you fell asleep.

 When you woke up the next morning, it was freezing in your room. The window was still open. You turned off your alarm and rolled over, rubbing your eyes. They felt grainy from crying yourself to sleep. You were almost asleep again when you heard your phone buzz by your head. You didn’t want to look at it. You really didn’t want to look at it. But curiosity got the better of you.

 It was Wooyoung. There was a backlog of messages too.

 11:53pm My love: Goodnight, baby girl. I love you.

 12:19am My love: I guess you’re already asleep. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.

 6:47am My love: Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well?

 7:34am My love: Baby? Is everything okay? Are you sick?

 8:16am My love: Am I still picking you up today?

 8:43am My love: I’m here. I’m coming up.

 You let out a soft sigh and began to type a response as you heard keys in the front door.

 You: I’m sorry, I left my phone on vibrate and didn’t hear your texts come in. I’m not feeling the greatest today, I think I’m just gonna skip. Bad mental health day.

 He didn’t respond. Instead, the door swung open and you heard him kick off his shoes before making his way to your room. You turned so you weren’t facing the door and pulled the sheets up over your head. You heard your bedroom door open and Wooyoung let out a gasp. “Christ, y/n it’s fucking freezing in here…” he mumbled as he hurried to close the window.

 You were grateful, even if you didn’t express it. You’d been so cold but you didn’t dare move from the warm cocoon of your bed lest you turn to ice. He turned to face you and made a quiet sound as he walked towards you. He already sounded worried. “Hey…” his voice was quiet as he perched on the edge of your bed, placing a hand on your waist. “I saw your text. Is everything okay? Anything I can do for you?”

 “I’m fine. The day is just off to a rough start.” You lied, your voice scratchy from last night’s wailing. You couldn’t tell him what was wrong, couldn’t let him see that video.

 “Well can I get you anything? Some water?” You nodded and he got up from the bed, making his way to your kitchen. You slowly sat up and looked at the clock. He was gonna be late. He came back with your favorite water bottle, ice clinking against the metal. The sound was oddly comforting as you grabbed your medicine bag. “Did you take your nighttime meds last night before you clocked out?”

 You sheepishly shook your head and he let out a soft sigh as he sat by your legs again. He waited for you to get your medicine before handing you the water. Before he could ask anything else, you spoke up. “You should go. You’re already gonna be late. I don’t want you to use up a free absence on me.” Then you popped your pills in your mouth and gulped some water, washing them down.

 “I still have all of my absences. I can afford to use one of the allotted five. I need to know you’re okay first.” He rested his hand on your knee, giving a gentle squeeze. Finally, you met his gaze and you almost burst into tears all over again. He’d come to mean so much to you and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him because of your ex. He noticed your bottom lip wobble and his brow furrowed in concern. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, scooting up the bed so he could stroke your hair.

 His words were enough to finish breaking the dam and your face crumpled as you lunged forwards, hugging him tightly as you cried into his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you instantly and his warm hands began rubbing soothing circles on your back. This only made you cry harder. Everything about him was so endearing. He was missing class to make sure you were okay and he was being so gentle with you, as if you were a precious piece of art that he was terrified to break.

 After a few minutes, he gently pulled back and began to wipe your cheeks. You’d finally stopped crying but you almost started all over again when his thumb swept over your cheek. “Can you stay with me today?” You asked quietly, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you leaned into his touch.

 “Of course, sweetheart.” He leaned forwards and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t you get comfy and I’ll go make something for you to eat?” You nodded and he got up from the bed, leaving you there so he could cook for you. You didn’t want to be alone but you knew he’d shoo you back to bed if you tried to help him. He loved babying you like that.

 So you settled back down and picked up your phone, ice filling your veins as your body went numb with anxiety. You hesitantly opened the email app and bit your lip, checking your personal email to calm yourself before opening your professional email. You felt nauseous when you saw an email from your internship coordinator. You felt bile rising when you read the subject line.

 Cause for concern

 You opened the email with trembling hands and read it as tears filled your eyes. It was over. If you couldn’t defend yourself, you would be losing the internship. The manager had said this in much nicer terms and had CC’d HR, but you understood it. Just as you closed the email and went to message your ex, Wooyoung stormed into the room. He hadn’t even been gone five minutes.

 “What the fuck is this?” He snarled and you sat up again, scooting up the bed. He didn’t even have to show you his phone for you to know he’d received the video. You could hear the moans from where he stood in the doorway.

 “Woo, it’s not what it looks like-”

 “Really? Because it sure looks like my girlfriend fucking another man.” He stalked towards the bed and grabbed his water bottle, which he’d left beside you when he came to check on you. “You really had me fucking convinced, y/n. I bet you just agreed to have me move in so rent would go down.” With each word, your heart cracked even further and tears began to fall freely now. “Don’t even fucking go there. Stop with the guilt trip. I’m not falling for that shit. You’ve strung me along for over a year now. We’re done.”

 Your heart stopped beating for a moment as everything went silent. Then you scrambled to get out of bed and chase after him as he turned on his heel. “Woo, please- please let me explain what’s going on. It’s not like you think.” You begged, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest as he gathered his things by the door. “It’s not me, Wooyoung, please just listen to-” He opened the door and cut you off.

 “No. I’m done listening. I have been in love with you for years, been nothing but good to you since we started working on things, and this is what I get in return? I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t.” And just like that, he was gone and you were gasping for air between sobs.

  —---------------------

  It had been a few days since everything had happened and you had barely left your bed. You were skipping classes and only eating once, maybe twice a day. The only productive thing you’d done was defend yourself in order to keep your internship. You’d found evidence that there was no way the woman in the video was you and you’d presented that information to your boss and HR. They’d still let you go but they’d agreed not to make a fuss about it. So you’d been left alone to think about everything that happened on Tuesday and you found yourself in tears every couple of hours. You’d never taken a breakup this hard but Wooyoung…he was different. You could see a future with him. Except all your hopes had been dashed only four days prior.

 It was finally Saturday. You hadn’t been taking any calls or responding to any messages since Wooyoung left you sobbing on the floor in your living room so you were startled by the sudden knock at your door. Part of you feared it was your ex but another part of you hoped it was so you could beat his ass. You cautiously made your way to the door and peered out the peephole only to find Hongjoong with his arms crossed.

 You opened the door and stepped back without a word, letting him into your apartment. He kicked his shoes off and made himself comfortable as you locked the door and dragged yourself to the kitchen to get drinks for the both of you. “Is water okay?” He nodded and you joined him a moment later. “Here.” You whispered, holding out a glass as you sat beside him.

 He took it and both of you sat in silence before he finally spoke. “Are you okay?” His words and his tone were softer than the expression on his face. You simply shook your head and looked at your lap. “Why did you do it?”

 “I didn’t!” Your head snapped up so fast you thought your neck would break. You didn’t sound defensive, you sounded desperate. “He wouldn’t listen but I swear on my life I didn’t cheat. I’ve been cheated on before and it makes me physically ill. But he wouldn’t hear me out, he just yelled and left…”

 “Look, he showed me the video. You can’t deny it. There’s proof.” His tone was accusatory and you felt like a thousand needles were pricking your skin. Your eyes began to fill with tears for what felt like the millionth time that week and you shook your head. You looked down as you pulled your phone from your pocket, pulling up the instagram messages.

 “I wouldn’t lie to you. Especially about this.” You held your phone out and he carefully took it from your hand, his gaze meeting yours briefly. There weren’t many messages but he took a while to read everything multiple times before looking up at you. “That’s not me. Look at the date.” He looked back down, tapping on the video. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at the screen, his eyes widening when he saw the date in the bottom corner.

 “You were out of town that weekend. You took Wooyoung to meet your family.”

 “Exactly. I didn’t see it at first so I didn’t know how to defend myself but once I was able to look at it without feeling violently ill, I realized I had an alibi. I even got receipts from a couple shops we visited that weekend to show to my boss to prove it wasn’t me.” You gently took the phone back as he held it out to you and looked down again, pocketing the device once more. “I tried to tell Woo but he won’t take my calls or read my messages. I don’t think they’ve even delivered. I think he blocked me.”

 “He did.” Your heart stung but you didn’t jump in. “He’s not doing well at all. We didn’t know why he skipped classes Tuesday, we just knew he wasn’t there. The guys were asking around but they realized you weren’t there either so they left it alone. Then San got home and he heard sobbing and Wooyoung told him what happened.”

 You wanted to go to him and make things better but you knew he wouldn’t see you. He was stubborn like that. You also knew it was up to him to fix the problem since it was his reaction that made things complicated. So you nodded silently and tried to process the information given to you. You stood abruptly and went to the kitchenette, placing your empty glass in the sink. “Thank you for listening.” You sighed as you propped against the counter. “He knows where to find me if he wants to see me. I’m not gonna ask you to try and fix things between us. You already did that once.”

 “Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?” He snorted as he stood from the couch and headed to the sink with his glass. You’d always been a bit jealous of his grace and this time was no exception as you watched him seemingly glide around the room. “I’m not leaving until you’re in the shower and have ordered dinner.” He looked at you from where he stood at the sink, propping there on his hip. “Just because I’ve known him longer and I’m inclined to watch out for him doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you fall to the wayside. I still care about you.”

 “I know.” You sighed softly and looked down. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. Unless maybe you were out for blood on his behalf.”

 “I was, initially. But the second I saw your face, I decided vengeance could wait.” He teased, his elbow nudging your ribs. “Seriously though, go get ready for a bath. I’ll order dinner. If you’ve taken it the way he has, you’ve barely left your bed.”

 You didn’t speak, just simply nodded as you stood straight and headed for your room. You appreciated that he was trying to take care of you but your mood had soured significantly as he told you how Wooyoung was faring. You wanted to be left alone for a while but the only way to get him to leave was to do what he wanted you to. So you gathered your clothes and headed to the bathroom with a sigh, filling the tub with water instead of starting a shower. You didn’t have the energy to stand for that long. You didn’t bother locking the door, you knew Hongjoong wasn’t interested and you weren’t in any danger with him around.

 You ran the bath and stripped bare, dropping your clothes in the hamper. You’d had the sense to at least change out of what you’d worn to bed Monday night when you got the video and you were glad because if you hadn’t, Hongjoong would’ve automatically known something was terribly wrong. You decided to put some bubbles in too since you felt like shit and wanted to treat yourself. As if bubbles will dull this. You let out a snort as you sank down in the tub. “I just ordered dinner!” You heard Hongjoong call from the kitchen as you settled in, bubbles tickling your chin.

 You’d been in the tub for about twenty minutes when you heard the door. You didn’t hear any conversation so you thought maybe Hongjoong had asked the delivery driver to leave the order at the door. But then the bathroom door swung open. You scrambled to cover yourself with your hands even though the bubbles were already doing a fantastic job of obscuring your naked body. But then you saw who it was and you froze. “Wooyoung-”

[rafescoke]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her. 

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill. 

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up. 

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her. 

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?” 

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting. 

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck. 

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes. 

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after. 

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

-

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[hyunjilicious]

I just read what is and what should never be and it was PHENOMENAL! I love everything you write anyway so I was wondering if you could do a small one where Bucky is alone and depressed and he calls yn because he feels lost and she is just there for him? No worries if you can't! I love you anyway 💕

Omg!! You’re too sweet! I really wanted to do this one justice, but I suck at angst... I love you too!! and I’m sorry if this sucks!

Summary: after the events of Endgame, you and Bucky part ways. Even though you haven’t spoken in months, when he needs you, you’re there ANGST 2.2k

Warnings: overall angsty vibes. Sad Bucky. Idk depictions of depression I guess? shitty writing!

“You came” Bucky's surprised tone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Before saying anything else, you shook your head in disbelief. From certain points of view, he looked exactly the same as when you last saw him months ago, but if you looked past his rugged exterior, it was very easy to tell something was truly eating away at his heart.

“Of course I came” you frowned, “You called me”

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Bucky mumbled.

You looked him up and down, thoroughly confused by his statement, but decided to keep the tone of the conversation from going too dark too fast. “Shut up, Barnes” you scoffed, “Don’t even joke about that.” A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips, but it was forced, you could easily tell he wasn’t truly being himself. “What’s up?”

Bucky took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to word his thoughts. When his eyes met yours he flinched, the pain clouding his otherwise bright blue eyes. He started with a long sigh and a shake of his head but then, cringed as he finally spoke up. “I need help”

His confession went directly to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Whatever it is, you got it, but what-”

“Nothing happened” Bucky stopped you, “I need help”

“I don’t understand”

“I need someone to-” he sighed, closing his eyes as his head fell forward in what could only be described as shame, “I need someone to talk to” and it was funny, considering he just walked out of his psychiatrist’s office. “Someone that’s not paid to listen to me” he added, “Someone who understands”

It was moments like these that you truly wished Steve was still here. Or Nat. Your best friends, yes, but they were the glue that held you all together, and now in their absence, you were all threatening to fall apart. 

But of course you’d be there for Bucky. Whatever he needed you were more than eager to provide, but at the same time, you were fully aware that your capabilities were limited. You didn’t lack the understanding or the experience, but you lacked the words. You had the sympathy, but not the advice he needed. But you were there. Like you have always been and always will be, so, that afternoon you ended up on his living room floor.

Surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol that had no effect on either of you whatsoever, you sat and listened to him rant his heart out until his throat couldn’t take it anymore. And then he broke down - completely. A full on mess, tears staining his cheeks as the temperature dropped in the room with every other pained groan he’d release. But he let it all out and the weight he had been carrying on his shoulder was unimaginable. There were too many things eating away at his heart, but the guilt was what kept him under its spell, what kept him up for the last months, what was physically destroying him.

“Y/n... “ he called for you, face hidden in his hands as he spoke, “I know you’re gonna say no, but-”

“No,” you stopped him, “Then don’t ask me”

“Please”

“No, Bucky” you sighed, grabbing his wrist so you could look him in the eyes, “If you already know it’s a bad idea, please don’t tell me because I’m afraid I’ll actually go through with it right now”

“But i can’t fucking sleep!” he cried out loud, falling back against the couch, arms propped up on his knees, “I keep having the same nightmares over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore”

“You don’t-” you took a deep breath, “You don’t want me to erase your mind, do you?”

The look in his eyes proved that that was exactly what he wanted. And the unshed tears that coated the otherwise pure and radiant blue of his eyes was almost enough to convince you.

“Please-” he begged, “I-”

“No, Buck” you shook your head and shuffled to face him properly, “As time passes, it’s only gonna get worse. The past will eventually catch up to you. You’ll want to know what you did”

He didn’t have it in him to fight you, so silence settled for a while. “You know sedatives don’t work on me?”

“I… never thought about it, but that makes sense”

Bucky gathered his lips into a tight line and nodded his head.

“Lady shrink isn’t of any help?” you asked.

“I have no clue what she’s doing” he shrugged, “Maybe it’s good in the long run, but fuck if I know how she expects me to make any kind of progress right now”

“You are, tho” you reassured him, “Making progress I mean”

“Am I?” Bucky laughed incredulously.

“Yes! You’re almost completely on your own feet. You really pushed through”

“Or maybe I’m just ignoring all of my problems”

“You just told me about them” you chuckled, and threw an arm over his shoulders.

Hesitatingly at first, he eventually leaned in into your hold, allowing himself to completely fall against your chest. “I hate this”

“I think that’s a given” you laughed, curling your fingers around the roots of his way too short hair. “A wise man once said that whenever someone acts like they have their shit together, they’re either lying or delusional”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know” you confessed, “I saw that on the internet”

For the first time that night, you actually heard him laugh, and it sounded so good - it was short and weak, but it was sweet and honest. “That’s a pathetic attempt at cheering me up, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it” Bucky said as he pushed himself up.

“I wish I could do more” you mumbled, “But I don’t know what, or how, but-”

“Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that” you smiled.

He didn’t know that. He’d never stop thanking you for even the smallest gestures. The day where Bucky would understand that kindness, in some cases, is a given, was far away, but you had the patience and determination to work for it.

As you talked and talked, and the topic of conversation kept shifting from one area to the other, the sun set, night settling outside his small windows. It was time for you to leave, and you would’ve done it, had he asked you not to at the last second.

You had your shoes on and one hand on the door handle, when he stumbled over his words, obviously too shy to properly hold his ground. “Actually can you- can you-” he mumbled, pointing to his couch, “Can you stay here tonight?”

And of course you did. The night didn’t last much longer after that, with Bucky settling on the floor, only a blanket to keep him company, and you sprawled out on the couch as silence settled.

But your mind was too busy to drift off. You knew his’ was too, but decided to refrain from speaking up, hoping to let him fall asleep, even for a short while.

It was loud inside your head. You always promised yourself you’d never intrude on someone’s thoughts and read through them without their approval, but you physically felt Bucky radiate energy, and your mind just slipped. But then, your heart almost stopped.

You saw yourself. You saw yourself slapping him back in Wakanda when he decided to go under ice again, you saw yourself moving a car out of his way back in Bucharest, when you risked your life for his because you trusted Steve that much, and because you were that good of a friend. You saw yourself at Tony’s funeral, eyes shiny with tears and then felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hug yourself - and then realised it wasn’t your urge, it was Bucky’s. At this point, your heart beat so fast you were actually afraid he’d hear it. But when goosebumps appeared all over your skin, you realised he couldn’t hear you, that he was asleep and that the nightmares started materializing. 

What convinced you to act on it was the sudden jerk of his body and the way to fully tensed instantly after. So, unable to just sit and watch, you rolled over to the side and allowed your hand to fall by his temple, little specks of light rolling off the tips of your fingers as you forced the thoughts away. Seconds later, you saw him relax and shift around, gathering the blanket he laid on to his chest as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

His relaxed form and the steady pace of his breathing put a smile on your face. But you made the mistake of thinking this was a one time thing, however, before you realised, you found yourself leaning over him again, ushering yet another wave of nightmares away. And it kept being an ongoing process until the sun rose, and you cursed yourself as you did not get one second of shut eye. But it was worth it. The sight of him finally resting, knowing he spent his night in his happy place that you this time did not intrude on, made up for your tiredness. 

When Bucky drifted out of his deep sleep, you figured it was safe to relax too. But knowing that if you went to sleep right now you wouldn’t wake up until noon, you stood up, determined to give him the full best friend experience.

But all you found in his kitchen was a box of stale cereal, a soft cucumber and candy wrappers. Had he not looked so adorable sleeping shirtless and curled into a ball on the floor, you would have woken him up yelling. But instead, you decided to order some food, and the simple fact that the sound of the delivery guy ringing the doorbell didn’t wake him up, actually terrified you. With a life like yours, no one sleeps that deeply, but then there he was, snoring away the late hours of the morning. 

By the time he finally stirred awake, the food was already cold, and you were bored out of your mind. “What- what time is it?” he mumbled, voice rich with sleep.

“A little bit past 2” you yawned from your spot on the couch.

“2 pm?” Bucky huffed, sitting up in a hurry and rushing to grab his phone. “What the-” he turned to you confused, “It’s 2pm…”

“Yeah” you sighed, “And the food is cold”

“Food?” Bucky gawked, looking over at the small table by the window, “You got food?”

“You didn’t have any” you defended yourself. You wanted to scold him for not taking better care of himself, but he looked so homey and cozy and vulnerable, that you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Eventually, you stood up and walked over to him. “I’ll let you eat, Buck, but I gotta go” you sighed, giving him a hug, “Got some stuff to do” you lied, by stuff meaning sleep, since you were exhausted.

“Yeah, of course” he mumbled in agreement, wrapping his arms around your frame, and bringing you closer. He sank his head into the crook of your neck, holding you to his chest for a moment longer than you would have considered friendly. But you didn’t complain, his hold was stern and loving, and you really needed that right now. “Thank you” Bucky added when he finally let you go. His right palm cupped your cheek as he looked down at you, awe and admiration in his eyes.

“Nothing to thank me for, Buck” you smiled, and then pulled away.

He silently watched you get ready to leave, following you around until you reached the door and turned around to say goodbye. And it was weird. Your heart boomed against your ribcage, and you didn’t have to read his thoughts to know he was feeling the same kind of nervous. And it may have been the one too many stories you read but you actually feared something was going to happen. Thankfully, it didn’t. Instead you shared another hug, and parted ways.

However, all you managed to do was reach the staircase before you heard his door open, followed by the sound of his bare feet sprinting down the hallway. “What are you-”

“Can you stay?” he asked, shaking from head to toe, “In New York I mean, can you please stay? Just a few more days”

“Well, I- yeah, I guess I can” you mumbled.

“I just, I need a few more days. You’re screwing my head back on, I just need you now. Steve is gone, and Sam is all the way in Louisiana and I hate phones and I-”

“Wow-” you laughed, “I’m not even the second choice, I’m the third?”

“Shut up, Y/n” Bucky frowned, “Stop being a smartass for a second”

“I’m sorry” you rolled your eyes, but he didn’t care.

In the blink of an eye, Bucky threw his arms around your shoulders and hugged you close, and you weren’t sure if the ‘I love you’ that echoed inside your mind had actually been spoken or just thought, but it was everything you never knew you needed.

[camslightstories]

Tolerate it - Part 3

Notes: I wanted to thank all of you for the love and support, it means a lot. I don't think my writing is very good, but I been improving and I'm really glad you guys liked it. I will be updating tomorrow. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it

I added a prompt list to my page, so if you have any request you can use that for your idea, or if you have already one then its okay. I write for everything. If you have any request just tell me I will gladly write it. I receive any type of feedback, comments and request. Have a great day.

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. 

The afternoon came around and the sunlight illuminated the house. Boxes of Christmas decorations were piled in the living room. The soft Frank Ocean music was heard in the background. The smell of chocolate occupied the house.

A few hours after you left, your mom stood in the kitchen. With the phone on her ear as she waited for your sister to pick it up. Her eyes ranked over the entrance of the house, as she remembered how weirdly you were acting. 

The hand dribbling in your thigh, the way you didn't talk more of a sentence. Your constant staring at the beach is the same thing you did without knowing as a kid when your father died. The silence as you worked putting the boxes away, was another giveaway since every time you would be doing anything you would hum a song. 

The way you awkwardly answered when she asked you about Lena, and you didn't fangirl over her as you always did, even though the two of you were in a relationship. The way your glance painfully glanced at certain places and tears would threaten to come out, as you immediately brushed off. 

She knew you enough to tell you were different, and that is why she was calling. She knew one of your sisters would obviously know something about it. The long phone rang a few times before Alex picked up.“Danvers, speaking”

“Hey sweetie, how are you? How is Maggie?” Your mom responded.

The redhead said as she smiled. After a time, their relationship grew stronger. “Hi mom, we're both good, today is our day off, and you?” 

Eliza mentioned as she took a sip of her chocolate.“That's great honey, I'm good, your sister came to visit me today”

“Yeah, Kara told me she was going to go since she needs an interview for the girl she is mentoring after New Years'. But I thought she was going on Saturday” Alex responded as she nodded to Maggie to not stop the TV.

“No honey, Y/N. She came to put some boxes away in the storage.” Your mom responded as she put her mug on the kitchen island.

“Ohh I thought she had to work on the pastries for the DEO gala tomorrow and the classes,” Alex said confused. You guys told each other everything, from you having a dumb thought to you accomplishing your dreams.

“No, she didn't mention it. She seemed different to Alex, she just didn't seem as herself” Your mom mentioned.

“What do you mean mom?”Alex said as she sat up on the couch, Maggie stopped the movie and stared in worry at her fiance.

Eliza said “Well she put at least 12 boxes away and she was just not herself, she kept staring at the ocean. And when I mention Lena she just awkwardly answered trying to avoid her”

“That's weird” Alex commented after mouthing to her fiance ‘Y/N’ after Maggie asked what was wrong.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you if something happened. Because Alex she hasn't been like that since Jeremiah” Your mom said as she glanced outside to see where you sat.

“Nothing has happened that I know of. But I will go check on her. Don't worry okay mom? I will call you later” The redhead responded as she got up.

“Be safe, Sweetie and I love you, say hi to Maggie for me” Your mom concluded as she walked outside to see your drumsticks on the storage.

Your sister said, before ending the call, as she turned to Maggie. “I love you too, okay mom” 

Maggie stared at her fiance, as she asked “What's wrong with baby Danvers?”

“Mom said she was different, she said she was acting like when Dad died,” The redhead said with tears. You had felt in a silent depression when Jeremiah died, and it left slowly after a few years. 

She had told you when you were born she was going to protect you at all cost, and when Kara entered the Danvers family the blonde did the same. And you as the baby of the family you promised yourself you were going to protect you as they did to you, and you were going to sacrifice everything if it meant for them to be okay and happy.

Maggie knew that the bond between the three of you was strong, and she had witnessed it various of times. When Alex was kidnapped, while she and Kara were fighting you were talking to Alex the whole time, and even offer yourself to change places with the guy’s father confessing to a murder you didn't do.

Or when Kara had solar flares you were helicoptering around her, you would check out what she would eat, or where she was going, everything. And when both of them got into a Life or Death situation with Cadmus you had yelled at them until exhaustion. And cried for the next week clinging to them from waking up to sleeping.

And when you got hurt, Kara and Alex would stop everything just to comfort you. When Barry broke up with you, she, Winn, and James had to stop Kara and Alex from going to beat him up because he broke your heart as he chose Iris over you.

Maggie and Alex were walking down the street, before entering JJ’s, one of your workplaces. The redhead furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed a new girl at the counter doing her job. Maggie noticed Amelia on the register working and signaled Alex to talk directly to the manager. 

“Hey Alex, Maggie. How can I help you guys?” The brunette said as she noticed the couple.

Alex responded as she looked around “Hey Am, I'm looking for Y/N, I thought she had an afternoon shift, or is she at the school?”

“She didn't tell you?” Amelia commented surprised.

Alex recountered worried “Tell me what?”

“She was fired from the school two weeks ago since they found a ‘better fitting music teacher’ and well JJ fired her this morning after she slept in here last night” The brunette mentioned.

Maggie and Alex begin surprised and worried about the newfound information. Alex started to think about the trust and abandonment issues you had. Maggie noticed her partner going into deep thought so she decided to take over the conversation.

“Wow, that's weird. Do you know where she might be?” The Latina asked.

Amelia answered as she pointed to a jewelry store at the front of the street.“She had me put some of her checks in Mr. Rogers name, she might be there”

“Thank you, Lia, see you,” The couple said as they nodded. The brunette nodded with a smile and kept working.

The streets in National City had always been busy, cars honking up and down the road, some people would often compare it to New York. The daylight of the afternoon illuminated the streets. The cold air and breeze still accompanied people even when the sunlight was up. 

“Good afternoon, to my favorite couple,” The old man said behind the counter with a smile, as Alex and Maggie entered.

Alex responded as she smiled and hugged the man. She had his help to find the perfect ring for Maggie, and now he was making their wedding bands “Hello Mr. Rogers, good afternoon”  

“I was going to call you Danvers” The man commented. 

Alex responded with a worried glance. “Why?”

“Well, your sister paid for outrageous engagement right, and then she came by this morning saying she didn't want it anymore and that I could donate all the money to the orphanage,” He said as he reclined on the counter, Maggie and Alex sharing a look of surprise. 

“She did what?”Alex dropped her jaw in surprise, making Maggie roll her eyes as she softly hit her fiance on the shoulder. Alex came out of her shock, just to speak up almost yelling.

“Yeah a $25 thousand ring, she paid in the last 2 years” Mr. Rogers commented, making your sister and Maggie enter in shock, not being able to say anything. 

“Let me get it for you so you can see the piece of art,” The old man said as he laughed going inside the back of the store. 

“Did you know she was going to propose?”The couple looked at each other before, asking millions of questions with their glances. Maggie recuperated herself first, before speaking up. 

“No, I knew she was in love with Lena but not that she was going to propose” Alex mentioned, as she clenched her jaw. 

How could you not tell her?, What other thing were you hiding? Weren't you supposed to tell her about things like this?, Weren't you supposed to trust her with everything?

“Here it is ladies”. Mr. Rogers said as he put in the counter a black box, Breaking Alex out of her thoughts, opening it when the couple came closer. 

Both of the women stared at the silver ring. The ring was simple but sophisticated. The diamond was but between a small infinite form. Alex and Maggie exclaimed at the same time. It was small, simple, and perfect for Lena. 

“Ohh wow,” Alex said.

Maggie commented “That looks so much like Lena”

The old man said, breaking them out of shock. Giving them 5 envelopes, “Do I still give the money to the orphanage? She also left this for you”

“Yes sir, thank you, I will see you around Mr. Rogers,” Alex responded before sighing as she checked the letters, no daring to open the one with her name. There were five letters in total, with your handwriting. One for Lena, one for Maggie, one for your mom, and the other two for each of your sisters.

The man said with a wave, making the couple smiled.“Bye girls”

After a few minutes, of silence and thinking. Maggie started to think as a Detective recurring every single thing you did. “Okay let's go back and think, She was fired two weeks ago from begin a music teacher which was her primal income, she didn't tell anyone”

“Yes, then last night she slept at the bakery when she had a shared apartment with Lena, her girlfriend. And if they had fought she would have asked Kara or me to spend the night at our apartments.” Alex responded, stopping, seeing her fiance working technique.

Maggie said as pointing out each action. They knew you would often make decisions on feelings but this was out of your league. Leaving is not something you would do, your trust and abandonment issues making sure of that. “Because she slept overnight at the store, JJ fired her today, which she didn't tell anyone, then she canceled her perfect engagement ring order for Lena of 25 thousand dollars and told Mr. Rogers to give the money to the orphanage. Which was at least 2 years of her work” 

“Then she gives five letters to Mr. Rogers and asked him to give it to us and then she went to Mom's, with enough boxes to put away all of her things. Acting differently like when my dad died.” Alex said as she finished, taking a big breath, she knew something was wrong and now she didn't know what to do. She was mad at you but she was also scared of everything that has happened, and how haven't break.

“You don't think it has to do anything with Kara don't you?” Your sister said after Maggie and she shared a knowing look. Kara was also in love with Lena, her best friend. 

After 2 years of seeing you two together, the blonde had figured out. And she knew the blonde was hurting, when she saw Lena with someone else, better said with you. Alex didn't want to think about the fact that Lena somehow loves Kara too, and that if something happened you would be heartbroken, lost, and more. 

She couldn't think like that because she knew you would give up anything so that they could be happy and okay. And if you were hurting, Kara would be hurting too, knowing she hurt you. And she would have to stand at the side, as both of you were hurting because she couldn't do anything.

But why the letters? Why not a text, a call something? Why did you ask someone to give them? There was something that wasn't adding up.

The redhead was pulled out of her thoughts when her phone started to ring again, hoping it would be you. But was greeted with your sister's name on her screen. The redhead shared a look with Maggie before answering the phone.“Kar?”

The line was silent for a few seconds before the blonde blurted out. Making the redhead sighed, there it was.“Yesterday, I told Lena I love her”

[matbarzyy]

Brave [A.B.]

A/N: This is a very self indulgent piece I’m really not sure I should be posting. I’ve had a weird few days and this came out of it. If depression is triggering to you, please don’t read this. It’s basically just Tito picking the reader up on a really bad day. I know I need it sometimes, so as much as I thought I should keep this to myself I figured one of you might need it too.

Word count: 4495

Warnings: severe depression

.

“Hi,” Anthony greeted you when you picked up the phone, heading to his car. “How are you?” He asked the question every single time he saw you or got you on the phone, which you used to think was just out of politeness, but he nagged you whenever you dodged answering. He genuinely cared and he made sure to ask everyone he loved how they were doing regularly.

“I’m okay, you?” You hoped the short answer would suffice him, because you didn’t have much energy to elaborate further than that. Your eyes were barely open, but even when they were all you could see was your bedroom ceiling or the mess that you had made of the place.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good,” He sat in the driver’s seat of his car, buckling his seatbelt. “I’m headed to the gym and then I’ll train for a while, do you want me to come over later tonight? Cuddles and a movie?” He made the offer he had never heard you say no to. He hadn’t seen you in a few days and he was dying to hold you and nuzzle his face in your neck to hear you giggle because he was tickling you.

“Oh, um,” You cleared your throat because you felt like your voice was giving up on you. He sounded so excited, but you just couldn’t say yes. There was no way you could make your place look even half decent by tonight, and you didn’t want him to see it (or you) like this.

“Are you crying?” Tito stopped everything he was doing, worrying his lower lip between his teeth at the sudden shift of mood. He should have picked up on it when you barely said anything when you answered the phone.

“No, no I’m fine,” You lied, trying to keep your voice sounding as normal as possible. It was hard with your nose blocked and your chest shaking as loud sobs threatened to fall from your lips soon. “I’m not sure tonight is the best night for plans though, what about tomorrow?” You tried to get the idea out of his head and remake the plans for some other time as fast as possible, you wouldn’t last long on the phone with him without crying.

“Yeah, tomorrow works. Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again for good measure, a frown settling on his face.

“Of course, don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to you later?” Your cheerfulness sounded fake but you couldn’t bring yourself to give him more than that.

Something didn’t sit right with Anthony. Even after you hung up he replayed your words in his head. You were definitely crying, and he couldn’t just leave you like that, even if you had asked him not to come over tonight. He knew you needed your alone time, but he hadn’t seen you in a few days and if you weren’t okay he didn’t want you to feel lonely. You tended to have a bit of an attitude and you’d have no trouble letting him know he wasn’t wanted if you were busy and didn’t want him over, in which case he’d just go to the gym.

He couldn’t leave you without checking, so he took another turn and found himself on his way to your place. The key to your apartment was attached right next to his so that he’d never lose it, and he was thankful you trusted him to have it. He never used it much, but he couldn’t stand it when you cried (and god forbid he was ever the reason for it, because the first time you two had a fight he apologised so much he ended up crying more than you).

“Hello?” Anthony called out to make himself known as he walked into the apartment and made sure to lock the door behind himself. The living room was messier than you ever let him see it. None of your blankets were folded, and some clothes littered the floor by the couch. Even your shoes were in the way, something he couldn’t understand because you were always so adamant in putting them away as soon as you walked in. “Hey,” He found you the second he stepped into your bedroom, your body curled up under the blankets.

“What are you doing here?” You had heard him unlock the door and tried to pull yourself together, but your hair was still a mess and you couldn’t get yourself out of bed fast enough anyway.

“You didn’t sound okay on the phone,” He glanced towards the window for a second. The curtains weren’t letting much light in, and your room smelled a little stuffy, like you hadn’t opened the window or even your door all day.

“But… I thought you said you were going to the gym and that you wanted to train?” You tried to adjust the covers on your bed, but even the sweater you were wearing was twisted around your body. Tito could see you were a mess and it made you feel even worse. You had been so good at hiding it up until now, he had never seen you like this.

“The gym will be there for me to go to tomorrow, you need me right now and you’re always going to be my priority,” He took in everything around him. Some more clothes were scattered over the floor, an empty glass of water was sitting on the nightstand with a cereal bar wrapper, and more of those could be found on your carpet. It wasn’t hard to guess you hadn’t moved for hours, or even the whole day.

“I’m okay,” You swallowed heavily, a guilty feeling taking over the pit of your stomach. You didn’t like it when guests came in and you didn’t have time to clean, you needed the place to be spotless so that they couldn’t judge how lazy you were.

“Don’t lie to me,” His voice was soft as he crouched by the bed, ignoring everything around him to focus on your first. “I can tell you’ve been crying,” He went to cup your cheek, and you let him for a second before turning your face back into your pillow.

Your body shook with a silent sob while his hand fell off. He felt so helpless, watching you like this without knowing how to help you. Seeing you cry always hurt him, but the way you were right now shattered his heart. He didn’t really know what was wrong, and he had no clue of when you had started feeling bad enough for you to end up like this.

“It’ll be okay,” He settled for whispering soothing words, not sure if touching you would help or make it worse. He knew from a few texts and conversations that you had days like these, but he had never been there to help you through them. You had definitely downplayed it whenever you told him about it. “Baby, please look at me,”

“I’m sorry,” Your voice came out broken and quiet as you slowly turned your head, red swollen eyes staring into his bright blue ones.

“Don’t apologise,” He settled for taking your hand in his and rubbing the back of it gently with his thumb. “You don’t have to, I just want to help, okay?”

“I’m tired,” You whispered, your whole body so slumped you couldn’t even move your hand in his.

“Did you eat today?” He asked, and the shrug you gave him (which was so small he wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t so attentive) was enough of an answer.

“Kind of,” You didn’t want him to know you hadn’t touched food in hours. You didn’t want any.

“If I made you a sandwich right now, would you eat it?” He checked hopefully, you usually loved his grilled cheese, and you often praised him because he always managed to make a sandwich taste good no matter what was left in your fridge. He tried not to sigh in defeat when you shook your head, doing his best to keep his mood up for you. “Okay,” He pushed himself back to his feet, his hand falling from yours as he went for the door.

Your brain screamed at you that this was it. Tito was a patient man but there was only so much he could take when you were emotionally unavailable. You couldn’t even hold a simple conversation. You ruined it. You were worthless, and now that Anthony was seeing it too he was about to leave you.

“Please don’t leave me,” You croaked out, weakly reaching after him in a moment of panic.

“What are you talking about?” He turned around and grasped your hand in his. “I’m never going to leave you,” He fell back to his knees by your side, reaching over to hug you. “I promise, I’m always going to be there for you,”

“I don’t want to be alone,” You rested your forehead against his shoulder, unable to bring yourself to wrap your arms around him.

“I’m here baby, I’m right here with you,” Anthony brushed your hair back and kept saying reassuring words to you, repeating them until he was sure you wouldn’t be able to doubt how much he meant them. “I’m not leaving, I love you.”

He slid into the bed with you, kicking his socks off his feet before pulling you against his chest tightly. His shirt was wet with your tears, and he clenched his jaw to hold back his own every time your sobs made your body jolt against his. He could never leave you. He couldn’t even bring himself to consider it for a second. He was more in love with you than he ever thought he would be and he knew he’d be by your side through absolutely anything.

You had been there for him on countless nights after games the team lost, or games where he beat himself up for not playing well enough because they scraped the win and if he didn’t mess up this or that earlier in the game everything would have been fine. You always lifted his mood, you pulled him out of his thoughts and he couldn’t help how much he smiled whenever you were with him.

He couldn’t express how much he wished he could put a smile back on your face right this second, but this wasn’t just disappointment over a game or a project. It was a deep rooted issues and an accumulation of stress he couldn’t even imagine himself dealing with. It was no wonder you had to crash at some point, but he wished he had caught onto the signs earlier to help you before you hit rock bottom.

“Is it okay if I get up for a minute?” He eventually murmured.

You had stopped crying, and your breathing was steady. You had even gone as far as placing a small kiss on his chest where your face was tucked.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” You let him pull away, coughing a little to clear your throat. You felt pathetic for keeping him there for so long just because you were too insecure to let him get to the living room without crying about him leaving you.

“I’ll be right back,” He promised as he rolled out of the bed.

When he walked back into your room, he was holding a bottle of your favorite smoothie. You liked to make them yourself, but when you couldn’t this was always your go to. Tito picked it up before coming in hope it would cheer you up a little if you were having a bad day. Now that he saw you were doing much worse than he had imagined, he hoped it would at least motivate you to put something in your stomach.

“I stopped by the store on my way here,” He explained to you when he noticed your questioning eyes. “Drink it for me?”

You pushed yourself to sit up, your stomach in knots. You weren’t hungry, but you could try for him. You took the open bottle from his hands and forced yourself to take a few sips. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting and hoping the sugar would make you feel a little better, at least physically.

You handed him the bottle back soon after, most of the smoothie left untouched. He was about to say something, ask you to drink a little bit more, but you beat him to it.

“I’m really not hungry,” You gathered your pillow to your chest, slowly sliding back into the bed.

“That’s okay,” Anthony didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t make your own decisions. He didn’t know what you needed, he was just guessing. “Is there anything I can do?” He eventually asked.

“I don’t know why I feel like this,” You were exhausted physically and mentally, and even just speaking to him was draining in that moment. You only wanted to lay in your bed and cry until the pain stopped.

“You don’t have to explain,” He got comfortable on the bed too, sitting with his back against the headboard. “You’ll get through it, and I’ll be there for you in any way I can,”

“Thank you for coming over,” You crawled over to put your pillow in his lap and rest your head there.

“Always,” He placed his lips on your forehead and closed his eyes. “Do you want to just lay in bed for a while?”

“I don’t want to do anything,” You whispered, feeling him pull the covers tighter on your shoulders. “But then I think too much,”

“Okay, we can put some music on?” He tried to find a way to distract you from your thoughts. “Or I can read to you for a while,” Books on the shelves about your desk caught his attention. You had mentioned you couldn’t find time to read lately, and he wondered if you’d be up for it now.

“What book?” You turned your head to look up at him. It wasn’t much, but the small gleam in your eyes told him he took a step in the right direction.

“You can pick, or I’ll just grab anything that sounds good,” He suggested, leaving it open for you, and you lifted your head as you answered.

“I don’t mind any,” You let him slide out of the bed and quickly inspect the covers to make a choice.

A few seconds later he had resumed his original position and his knuckles gently ran over your cheek while his voice filled the room. He liked to think he was a decent reader. He wasn’t the best out there, but he didn’t really stammer on words and he kept a good rhythm to keep you interested in what he was saying.

What he didn’t know was that you couldn’t focus enough on the words to understand anything he said anyway. You didn’t mind, there was no need for you to understand, this was just filling the silence and the fact that he was there, taking care of you and reading to you, made your heart swell. You were terrified he’d leave, that he’d see how much of a mess you were and tell you he didn’t want to deal with that, yet here he was.

He spent ages repeating that he loved you to reassure you, he made sure you ate something, and he tried his best to ease your mind. You felt numb all over, everything was bland around you, but the one thing you still knew was that you were in love with Anthony. You could doubt how much you cared about your job, or even your own self. You could doubt your friendships and some family relationships, but you couldn’t doubt that you adored the man currently sitting on your bed, and you couldn’t doubt that he cared about you too.

He didn’t stop reading until he was absolutely sure you were asleep. His voice felt a little hoarse by that point, and he closed the book to place it on your nightstand, making sure not to wake you as he grabbed his phone.

.

“What are you doing?” You blinked your eyes open when you heard him move around your room. The bed was cold apart from where you were laying, so you knew he must have been up for a while.

“I’m just cleaning a little,” He put the shirt he was holding over the back of your chair.

“I can do it, I’m sorry it’s such a mess,” You sat up, immediately worrying about the state of your apartment. You knew it was a wreck, and you hated that he had to deal with it.

“No, no baby,” He shook his head and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “The kitchen, living room and bathroom are all tidy. I’m just going to fold your clothes and pick up whatever else is on the floor right now, and then I’ll hoover, okay?”

He wasn’t sure of what to do to help, but after a few minutes of research on his phone as you slept, he found a post saying cleaning your room for you or cooking would be a good idea. Since he was awful in the kitchen he settled for cleaning the entire apartment.

“You don’t have to do that, let me help you,” You protested, feeling lazy and useless while he did everything for you. It wasn’t fair to him. Your heart rate picked up, but Tito was quick to soothe you.

“If you want to get out of bed and do something, that’s great, but we’ll go for a walk or something, leave that up to me, please,” He kissed the top of your head. “I’m just hoping you’ll feel a little better once you don’t have to worry about taking care of your place,”

Tears welled up in your eyes from his words. Your forehead fell to his shoulder as you shut them tightly, trying to get control back over your body.

“Fuck,” You choked out, your chest shaking with a sob again.

All you did was cry today. Tito didn’t feel as panicked this time, slowly understanding how you were dealing with everything. You were just overwhelmed, and while hated to see you cry he knew that it was because he made you feel cared for.

“You’re going to have to start your own water bottle company soon with all those tears,” He tentatively cracked a joke.

He wasn’t sure if the sound that followed was just a louder sob or a real chuckle, but he took it as a good sign when you wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed him against you. It was better than the apathy you had shown when he held you earlier, so he returned the embrace and kissed your temple.

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise,” He whispered soothingly when you pulled away, giving him a small nod while you rubbed the tears off your cheeks.

“I feel all gross,” You adjusted your sweater and sniffled. Your eyes were swollen from you trying to dry your tears when they wouldn’t stop falling, and you desperately needed to splash fresh water on your face.

“Do you want to take a shower or bath?” Tito asked you so that he could get the water running and make sure it was warm for when you got in.

“Shower,” You didn’t hesitate. You’d feel sluggish in a bath, it would make you more tired.

“Want me to come with and wash your hair?” He was almost sure you would, but he asked just to make sure. You weren’t the way you usually were, so you might have changed your mind.

“Yes please,” You nodded, taking his hand as you followed him to your bathroom.

Like he had said, everything was tidy. A new small towel was hanging by the sink, and all the other clean ones were neatly folded and organised underneath it. You picked up the faint smell of your cleaning products that he used to wipe every surface and make everything shiny. He really went all the way, and you could only guess he did the same thing in the kitchen.

You stripped while he started the water, his clothes on the floor next to yours. You still felt self conscious of your state, but in months of relationship Tito had done nothing but love every inch of your body, so you didn’t overthink it as you stepped into the shower after him.

“I don’t always understand how you feel, but I know it’s hard for you,” He gave your hand a squeeze as you made it under the stream of water. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m babying you, but it’s okay if you can’t bring yourself to do anything right now, I’ll take care of you,”

“I need that,” You nodded, resting your forehead on his chest as you let your hair get wet. It was hard to admit it to yourself, and even harder to say out loud. You thought you’d break down and cry again for a moment, but it seemed that all the tears had left your body already.

“I’ll help with absolutely anything you need me to,” Tito promised and adjusted the temperature to something a little bit hotter. “Let’s sit down, yeah?” He let you go first and then took his place behind you, shampoo and shower gel right by him. “Tilt your head back,” He asked as he poured the product into his hand.

You relaxed a little as he massaged your scalp, helping you disconnect from the rest of the world for a minute or two. The scent of soap slowly replaced the stuffy and slightly sweaty smell you had been living in for the past two days. You were still a mess of a person, but you could at least consider yourself half presentable after that.

How you felt on the inside almost always sucked, but you tried your hardest to keep up with appearances. It wasn’t even so that other people wouldn’t know, it was only for yourself, so that you could look in the mirror and think you were doing okay. It made it easier to convince yourself things were fine.

You didn’t spend too much time in the shower once Tito was done helping you wash your hair and body. He even got a smile out of you when his hands accidentally tickled your waist, and he beamed in response.

His smile lit your whole world up.

You held your towel tight around you when you got out, letting Tito get back to your room first. He came back in shorts he kept in your closet and one of the t-shirts you had stolen from him.

“Here,” Anthony handed you another one of his t-shirts (you had quite the collection) and some comfortable underwear he had picked out for you.

He was glad to find you brushing your hair and patting it with a towel as you stood in front of your mirror a few minutes later. At least you weren’t in bed anymore, and his heart soared when you gave him a small smile as you caught him staring at your reflection.

Instead of standing there like a moron, he decided to make himself useful and started pulling the sheets off your bed, piling them on the floor. You handed him some fresh ones from your closet as a replacement, your hair in a wet messy bun at the back of your head while you helped him adjust the fitted sheet over the mattress. You sat and began shoving your pillow into a pillowcase, and Tito didn’t argue with you helping him this time. He took the dirty laundry to your washing machine to make sure that by the time he left for practice tomorrow morning the apartment was spotless and you didn’t have to do a thing besides take care of yourself.

You made your bed and resisted the urge to get right back in it now that it smelled so lovely. You had to fight with yourself to get out of your room, so you opted for crashing on the couch in the living room instead. All of your blankets were neatly piled and you could see the plant on your coffee table had been watered. The dirty plates had been taken away to the kitchen, and everything was in place.

“I’m going to order some food,” Tito came to sit next to you a few minutes later. He handed you his phone as he added, “Pick anything you want.”

“I’m not that hungry,” You scrolled aimlessly, looking up at him because you didn’t want to have to get anything.

“Pick.” He gave you a stern look that left no room for discussion. “I’m not going to make you eat it all, but I’m not letting you go to sleep on a empty stomach tonight,” He had a feeling you had done it the previous night already, and it wasn’t going to happen again on his watch.

You eventually settled for a burger and decided you could just pick at the chips. Tito seemed satisfied with what you added to the cart and picked his own food before also ordering ice cream. It was one of your favorite flavours, so even if you didn’t want it tonight he was sure you’d be happy to have it in your freezer one of these days.

“Cuddles and a movie?” The corners of your lips lifted slightly as you suggested the plans he had been wanting to make with you for tonight.

“Sure,” He chuckled, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. “Anything you want to watch?”

“Just want to cuddle,”

“Okay,” He opened Netflix and clicked on Brooklyn nine-nine to pick it up wherever you had left it last time. It was unarguably one of the best shows out there according to both of you, so it would be good to watch it again and he also wouldn’t mind if he missed bits and pieces of it.

Tito leaned back on the couch and spread his legs, patting his body to invite you to lay on him.

“Thank you for being patient,” You whispered as you settled yourself on his chest. “I love you,”

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Tito rested a hand on your back and slowly traced lines up and down your spine. Tonight was all about taking care of you and he knew you loved it when he did that, so he’d do it until his arm cramped up if he had to. He even let your hair soak his shirt without a complaint despite how much he always hated the feeling. “Whatever’s going on with you, I’ll be there to help you through it, always.”

.

Please reblog and share some thoughts <3

Also wanted to add a little note here:

I know this made it look like the reader is quite dependent on Tito, and that’s always pretty toxic in a relationship. I didn’t mean to make it look like that, but I also don’t feel like rewriting the fic differently. I feel like that on some days, and while I can pull myself out of it alone (mostly because I have to) I know there’s some things that could help me. Cleaning my room feels impossible right now and if someone did that right now it would ease my mind a lot, so that’s why I pictured things that way in the fic.

[scimitar-and-longsword]

I've got a prompt about Joe & Booker brotp 🤜💥🤛 Joe is still very angry with Booker, but the team needs his help for a mission. While Booker tries again to power through his depression by pretending he's doing okay (like he fears that if they saw how mentally unwell he actually is they might resent him even more for not getting better). For the first time Joe starts to see all the cracks in Bookers facade.

On Nony! All my dreams in this one request! Joe seeing Booker’s depression break through a bit is gonna break both his and my heart!!!! ahhhhhhh!! All right, *cracks Knuckles* let’s do this.

—————–

Brothers Fight.

Things happened so quickly. 

Joe didn’t have the chance to argue when Andy had suggested they call Booker. Partly because it was Andy, and you don’t argue with Andy. But also because Nicky had shot him a sharp look when he had opened his mouth to argue with her anyway.

The next thing Joe knew, he was sitting on an empty car of a passenger train, staring daggers into the back of Booker’s head.

“Settle down.” Nicky whispered harshly in Arabic.

Joe sighed and shifted in his seat. He relaxed hands he hadn’t realized were clenched into fists on his lap, and switched to looking out the window at the Chinese countryside whizzing past. 

It was not at all convenient for Booker to join them from Paris, and they all knew it. It had barely been five years, not to mention the fact that they had already broken his exile once only six months after it started because of the whole Quynh thing.

Everyone else wanted Booker back. Well, mostly Nile wanted him back. At least she was the most outspoken about it. 

But Joe could see it on Andy’s face every time Nile brought up that she missed Booker, or wondered aloud what Booker thought of the latest news. Joe had even seen the pain and longing flicker in Nicky’s eyes more than once at the mention of Booker.

Joe just couldn’t bring himself to forgive Booker, not yet.

The train lurched as the track began to turn ever so slightly.

Nicky suddenly got out of his seat and walked to the other end of the car where Nile was sitting. He probably could feel Joe’s mind turning over the Booker issue in his head. Joe knew the whole situation bothered Nicky, but he couldn’t help it. Andy was stretched across the entire row in front of Nile, her feet barely visible where they stuck out into the aisle.

Nicky sat in the seat across the aisle from Nile. She perked up when she noticed him and immediately passed an earbud to him, leaning partway into the aisle so that the cord would reach.

Joe smiled, despite his sour mood.

Watching the friendship between Nile and Nicky blossom had been a joy over the past five years. They had bonded in their love of music, and their religious backgrounds. When Nicky wasn’t with Joe he could often be found entertaining Nile with tales of battles from hundreds of years ago.

Booker cleared his throat and Joe’s attention was abruptly shifted back to his former friend. He felt an ache grow in his chest.

What absolutely lucky and ungrateful bastard Joe had been. To have been gifted a soulmate in Nicky and a brother in Booker and to not realize what he had. 

He had wanted for nothing in his long life, not truly. He had lacked nothing. Family, friendship, safety, love. All of it wrapped up in this group. But he had not realized the space that Booker had filled in his heart until he was gone.

When they first found Booker, it had taken Nicky all of two years to start making jokes about Joe having two soulmates. And as much as Joe bristled at the implication, no matter how joking it was, that anyone could replace Nicky, Joe knew what he meant.

Booker and Joe just got each other. Of course Booker got along with Andy, and though it was less obvious, with Nicky too. But Joe and Booker, they were brothers.

They made each other laugh, and enjoyed watching sports. They shared a distaste for modern music and enjoyed hiking and running together.

They had slightly shorter tempers than Andy and Nicky had. And just as often as not the two of them could be found arguing about some trivial thing or another.

Joe never yelled at Nicky, and he hardly yelled at Andy, but fuck if he didn’t have his fair share of screaming matches with Booker over the years.

Despite that though, or perhaps because of  it, Booker was his best friend.

Joe knew he had taken Booker’s betrayal harder than anyone else. He’d talked about it at length with Nicky. Even though Joe hated talking about Booker now. He hated thinking about him too. It hurt too much. 

Still, he couldn’t hide this, not from Nicky. His heart knew him too well.

Booker cleared his throat again. And Joe sighed, releasing a held breath. 

The train swayed slightly as the track straightened out once more.

Booker had cried into Joe’s shoulder for hours on the night his son finally passed from cancer. Joe had spent probably a fifth of his evenings since Booker had joined them watching the man get sloppy drunk, and laughing with him into the early hours of the morning.

Booker’s betrayal had hurt him, had hurt Nicky, and had almost killed Andy. Nile had been dragged into a fight she had not been prepared for within days of learning of her immortality. Joe had stared down the reality of years, potentially decades, of torture for him and Nicky because of Booker.

All of that hurt. But that wasn’t the reason Joe couldn’t forgive Booker, not really.

It was that Joe had no idea Booker was in so much pain. Joe knew Booker was a bit of a brooder, but he also had so much life, and fire within him.

How could Joe not have known? How could he not have seen the extent of the pain his friend was going through? 

To have wanted so desperately to end it all, desperately enough to sell them out, but to still not have confided in Joe, not even once. Fuck- it hurt.

But even as Joe’s thoughts formed he felt guilty. How could he be mad at someone experiencing so much pain?

The endless cycle of anger and guilt he had been locked in for five years continued. Perhaps he wasn’t only mad at Booker, perhaps he was mad at himself too.

Booker had been an intricate part of Joe’s happiness for over two hundred years. Joe had never considered that the brotherhood he thought he had with Booker was one sided.

But he considered it now.

That part of his life was over, or at least on pause. Perhaps he could find it in his heart to forgive Book and to forgive himself. But not yet, the pain was still too new.

Nile laughed at something Nicky said and yanked her headphone cord back, the earbud in Nicky’s ear flying out with it.

“Ow!” Nick said, but there was a small smile on his lips and a crinkle at the side of his eyes.

Joe smiled to himself. Had this been what Nicky had felt watching him and Booker bond?

And just like that, his smile faded and he sighed once more.

“Will you stop that?” Booker snapped at him from where he sat two rows in front of Joe.

Booker turned and made eye contact with Joe over the tops of the seats.

“I can hear you being irritable from here.” Booker’s eyes didn't leave Joe’s as he spoke.

Joe rolled his eyes in response.

“Gee, I wonder what on earth could make me irritable?”

“Do you really want to do this right now?” Booker said flatly. 

“No,” Joe spat back, the volume of his voice seemed to be increasing without his permission, “I want to do this in ninety five years! But no one else seems to agree with me, so this is what you get. Irritable, angry, old me.”

“Typical.” Booker stood up, “You’d let your anger at me get in the way of a mission? Put people in danger for the sake of your grudge. Can’t control yourself for, what, how long has it been? Five hours since I got back?” Joe was up now too, meeting Booker in the aisle.

“My anger get in the way of a mission? My anger? I can do my fucking job Booker.” Joe said, stepping up closer to his former friend. “I would never put my bullshit in front of the safety of my family.”

Booker took a step backwards at Joe's advancement toward him. A look of pain flashed across his face, but it disappeared just as fast.

Somewhere in the back of Joe’s mind a small voice, that sounded very much like Nicky, chastised him for going for the kill with that last sentence. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, he was too angry. Angry and embarrassed. He couldn’t stop the emotion spilling out of him now. A damn was broken.

Still, Joe took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice even. He was vaguely aware that the low chatter coming from Nicky and Nile had stopped, but his eyes never left Booker.

“Was everything a lie? Did you enjoy any moment of your life with us?”

Booker turned around toward where Nicky and Nile were seated and then back toward Joe. His face was stern.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” He said as he pushed passed Joe toward the back of the train.

“How can I if you never told me?”

“Hard to tell you anything while in exile.” Booker bit back. He tilted his head toward the ceiling, his back still to Joe.

“You know what I mean, Book. Two hundred years and you never-” Joe started but Booker cut him off.

“I don’t want to have this fight again Joe,” Booker said, his voice finally rising to match Joe’s, “No matter how many times you scream at me about it, I can’t change the reasons I had for what I did! I had- have no one. I have nothing keeping me here.”

“You had me!” Joe shouted back at him.

“What?” Booker said with genuine surprise. He finally turned back to face Joe.

“You had me,” Joe said, he swallowed and took a deep breath. His eyes darted throughout the train trying to collect his thoughts, “You were my brother, Book.” 

Booker just stared at him. And after a moment Joe had no choice but to keep talking.

“Obviously you didn’t feel the same way, but I thought we were close enough that you could have confided in me. I would have helped you- at least I would have tried.” Joe finished his sentence, feeling utterly exposed.

“I-uh.” Booker stuttered.

Joe felt his anger drain away rather quickly at the sight of Booker’s complete surprise.

A long moment passed where neither of them spoke. Behind him Joe could hear nothing from Nicky, Nile, or Andy.

Booker stared at him as though Joe had just told him the earth was flat.

Finally, Booker broke the eye contact and stared down at the floor. Joe closed his eyes and brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing to speak.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Joe said, “You were my best friend Book. And I say that knowing Nile and Andy can hear me. You filled a place in my heart I didn’t know was empty. I thought I did that for you too.”

Booker didn’t respond, he just continued to stare at his feet. 

“You know, when we were on the plane to London, Nicky and I, and one of the guards told us they had left you open and bleeding at the Church. I took him to the ground and broke a rib before they pulled me off him. The guard who said he’d thrown the flash-bang that killed you? Nicky broke his arm.”

Booker looked at him with guilt and self loathing in his eyes.

Joe’s heart finally broke at that moment. Booker was so much worse off than he had ever thought.

“I’m fucking this up. I’m sorry, I don’t want to add to your guilt. I just- I want you to know I care about you. I don’t know if it would have made a difference if I had been better about letting you know that back then. I don’t know if it does now. But I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear, that we didn’t make that clear.”

“You’re apologising to me?” Booker said.

“Yes.” Joe said and gave Booker a small smile, “I’m still mad at you. But you fight with family, Booker. Brothers fight.”

Booker gave a small nod, and walked back past Joe to his seat.

Joe turned around to see Nile, Nicky, and Andy all staring back at him. Nile’s mouth was slightly open. Nicky’s eyes had a sparkle to them, Joe could tell he was proud of him. Andy sighed and disappeared once more behind the seat back presumably to lie back down.

Joe felt exposed and dangerously close to crying, so he ducked back into his seat as well. And then he did cry. First silently, and then a little louder when Nicky finally came back to sit next to him.

---

The mission was successful. Everyone worked together as if the last five years hadn’t happened. 

Once again they found themselves in a slightly less empty train car, this one an open freight car, but full of rescued kidnapping victims.

Nile was telling a group of particularly young children an overly acted out fairy tale. Nicky was at the edge of that group wrapping a bandage around a small boy’s arm. Andy sat with her back against the side of the car, trying her best to keep everyone in her sight.

Booker had just finished telling a group of four teens to try and get some sleep while they could.

Joe and Booker hadn’t said anything to each other that wasn’t directly related to the mission since the conversation on the train. And now that they were out of immediate danger, Joe couldn’t help but feel the hanging question in the air.

“This doesn’t change anything. Not yet.” Joe said to Booker as he walked up to stand next to him.

“I know.” Booker said flatly.

“I don’t think we’ll last the whole century though.” Joe added.

They stood like that, for a long time. Neither man looking at the other, preferring to feign busyness by watching over the increasing number of sleeping children. 

“I think you should talk to someone.” Joe said finally.

“And tell them what?”

“The truth. That you’re lonely. That you’ve been in a downward spiral for years and don’t know how to get yourself out again.”

“The truth?” Booker said sarcastically.

“Well,” Joe paused for a moment, “you should probably omit a few details.”

Booker chuckled and Joe felt a warmth in his chest.

Another hour or so had passed before Booker spoke again.

“I feel the same way you know.”

They were the only two still awake in the train car.

“Felt- I felt the same way.” Booker corrected, “I just didn’t want to play second fiddle to Nicky so I pushed it away.”

“Nicky is the great love of my life. Andy is a mentor and fierce companion. Nile already feels- I don’t know- I feel quite fatherly towards her.” Joe chuckled, “ I’m not sure how she would feel about that though.”

Booker nodded, and crossed his arms.

“And you were- you are- like a brother to me Book. You’re not second to anyone in that. I know you have your loneliness, and I know I can’t fix that tonight, but you are not alone. We all love you Book, even after everything that happened.”

They didn’t speak for the rest of their watch. Switching with Nile and Nicky as night turned to early morning.

They didn’t speak again until Joe was walking Booker towards the departures gate for his flight back to Paris.

“I mean it, Book. Talk to someone, at least try and sort through some of your shit.”

“I will.”

Joe pulled Booker into a hug. The first one he had given him since before Nile had joined them.

“I’ll see you in a few years yeah?” Joe said, suddenly overwhelmed with saying goodbye.

Booker nodded, and broke the hug first. He turned and disappeared into the airport.

Joe walked back over to Nile, Andy, and Nicky waiting by the curb.

Andy smiled at him, lines around her eyes already showed signs of age that they didn’t five years ago. He wouldn’t be able to keep Booker away for much longer, it wasn’t fair to Andy. It wasn’t fair to any of them.

Nicky slipped his hand into Joe’s, lacing their fingers together as the group walked away.

“I’m really proud of you,” Nicky said in Arabic.

“I miss him.” Joe said back in Arabic, squeezing his love’s hand.

“We’ll see him again. Sooner than you think.” Nicky said.

Joe believed him, and for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to seeing Booker again.

((Available on AO3 as well, link on my tumblr 💜))

[sunasrintarhoe]

Cat got your Tongue?

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro X GN!reader

Word Count: 2K

Summary: Maybe summoning a cat demon wasn’t the greatest idea… TW: Demon summoning and fluff

A/N: This is not accurate what so ever . I just really like the thought of summoning a cat demon named Kuroo. I really wanted to get a little something out before my inactivity gets too obvious lmao, feel free to request because requests are now open!! I will be putting out a list of Characters that I am willing to write for, so be looking out for that. Anyways I hope y’all enjoy!

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Every night since you had completed the ritual, or so you thought, you had been having this one weird dream. It always started out with a black haired man with bright yellow eyes looming over you with a small smirk on his face. He always said the same thing.

“You know, for someone so smart, you really don’t know how to read instructions all the way through…”

He would laugh and walk away from the side of your bed to your desk and pick up the old, dirty paper that contained the instructions to summon a Bakeneko, then scoff and you would hear the faint sound of a piece of paper being crumpled and thrown onto the floor.

The man would walk back to your bed and lean over you again whispering, “Offer me something, (Y/N). Pictures… Memories… You…”  He would lean over further almost as if to kiss you, then you would wake up. Your heart racing, your palms sweating. Sometimes with a headache, but that could have been because of the seasons changing. Your alarm would go off after about five minutes and you would be forced to get out of bed and get ready for work. 

Working at a bakery, definitely wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Especially when your boss was the one and only Miya Osamu. You two had grown up together and became best friends over your mutual love for food. Like Osamu, you dreamed of opening your own restaurant, but when you did, business was slow and hard to come by, which forced you to close down. Since, Osamu had opened Onigiri Miya a few years prior and was looking to branch out, he offered to buy your bakery, along with giving you a position as a manager. Of course you happily accepted and the next day you were sitting pretty with 15 million yen in your bank account. He had the place remodeled and within a month, your bakery was changed to Pastry Miya. 

It seemed like you were always busy. The name Miya certainly made a difference and sometimes you wondered if people ever realized that the bakery was run by the same person. Today was different though. Today was the day that Osamu wanted to release the fall exclusives and you just weren’t feeling it. Despite going to bed early, you felt like you were running on no sleep. Coffee didn’t seem to help and you seemed to be swaying on your feet. 

Sluggishly, you walked into the building and back into the staff room. As you were putting on your apron, Osamu walked in. “Yo, (N/N). I need you to- Are you okay?” He asked, concerned, to which you replied with a small smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired.” “You certainly don’t seem like a bit tired” He put the back of his hand up to your head and hummed. “ You don’t have a fever, do you feel sick?” You pushed his hand away, “Not at all, like I said I’m just tired.” You tried to walk around him, but he grabbed your wrist. “What happened?” He asked, pointing to a small bruise on your hand that you hadn’t noticed. “Oh? I have no idea, I don’t remember getting that…” You noticed the beginning of a bruise under your sleeve and pulled it up, only to be met with what seemed like a hundred more bruises. 

“Okay, what the fuck, (Y/N)? You’re not okay. You need to go home.” Just as concerned as he was, you looked up at Osamu with wide panicked eyes. “This makes sense.” “What does?” “The bruises, the tiredness, the recurring dreams about the incomplete ritual. It all makes sense.” “Ritual?” Osamu practically yelled, “What ritual?” You smiled sheepishly. “Well, you know how my cat died like six months ago?” He nodded,”Well, I’ve been really lonely and I saw this ritual at an antique that is supposed to summon a cat and I thought I should try it out…” Osamu’s jaw hit the floor. “YOU SUMMONED A DEMON?!” “yes…” He turned you around and untied your apron. “You can’t come back until you fix this.” Osamu pushed you out the door and slammed it shut.

“I guess I’ll go home then.” You mumbled to yourself and made your way to your car.

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

When you entered your apartment, the first thing that you noticed was the darkness. None of the sunlight seemed to be streaming through your light pink curtains. The next thing you noticed was the pentagram in the middle of your living room with the instructions on how to summon a cat demon in front of it. “Well shit.” you mumbled and sat down in front of the pentagram. You picked up the instructions and read through everything. “Ah, here. You must offer the demon something precious to you.” You looked around, “Something precious to me… something precious to me…” You turned to the first thing you saw. It was a picture of your cat that had passed away six months prior. “Oh, baby… How I miss you.” You placed the picture in the middle of the pentagram and sat on your knees. With a puff of smoke, the picture was gone. “What the hell?” “A cat? Really?”  A deep voice spoke from within the shadows. You quickly turned around only to be met with two long legs. Looking up, you gasped. Standing before you was the man that had been appearing in your dreams. “You!” “Me!” He mocked. “ Who are you?” The man smiled and crouched down to you. “The name’s Kuroo Tetsuro. I was partially, now fully, summoned by you.” He winked. “But I thought I was summoning a cat…” He got up and walked a few paces away. “You did.” In an instant a black cat appeared in front of you and Kuroo had disappeared. The cat sauntered its way in front of you and sat down. 

“I will be with you for as long as your cat stays precious to you, once the cat loses meaning, I will go back to my realm and take your soul with me.” The cat spoke. You froze. “FUCK! OF COURSE I’M STUPID ENOUGH TO SUMMON A DEMON AND NOT EXPECT FOR MY SOUL TO BE EATEN.” You yelled to the ceiling and Kuroo ran behind the couch, startled. 

Kuroo crept out from behind the couch when he realized the screaming was over, “I never said your soul would be eaten, I just said if your cat loses meaning to you, your soul will be dragged to the demon realm.” He blinked. “Same difference!” You snapped at him. You got up and sighed. There wasn’t anything you could do about it now, but at least you weren’t so lonely.

Kuroo had turned back into a man and wrapped his arms around your waist. “What are you doing?” You asked, trying to push him away. “You’re cold. Humans can’t stand being cold from my experience. Your cells don’t do well with the cold and start to shrivel up and die causing irreversible damage-” You tuned him out as he began rambling about the different effects of being cold. “-I just want to make sure my human is okay.” He purred.You relaxed and just let him hold you. It had been a while since someone had held you like that and you weren’t complaining. The purring made you feel like you were holding, your sweet, little cat. You felt Kuroo freeze at your lack of movement. 

“Are you okay?” “Yeah… Can we just stay like this for a bit.” Your voice sounded tight and you felt emotional. You were so touched starved and it was taking a toll on you. Kuroo just sighed and hugged you tighter. “You can’t get too attached, you’ll end up dying.” You shook your head. ”You remind me of my cat.” Kuroo chuckled. “The purring helps.” After a little bit you jolted. “Oh, frick. I’m sorry.” You bowed in apology and Kuroo just waved it off. “It happens to the best of us.” He walked away and shifted, “Besides, We’ll be together for a while.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Once the whole fiasco with Kuroo was finished, you were able to work and life went back to normal. Well… With the exception of having a nerdy cat around. Kuroo was exceptionally great company and was very cuddly as a cat. He never allowed to be alone. Always following and watching, he didn’t allow you to be alone for more the five minutes at a time. He would make you cook almost every meal for him and make you sit down and eat with him. He slept in your bed, laid on the toilet when you showered and basically took over your entire life. This continued for six months until one day Kuroo stopped. He stopped talking to you, eating with you, sleeping with you. He completely isolated himself from you without explanation. He stayed in your guest room, only coming out to see if you were still home. It sucked.

You were fed up. The next time you saw him, you were confronting him.

____________________________________________________________________________

That was a month ago. He hasnt come out his room for an entire month. You now moped around you house and cried over your cat’s picture. Sometimes you sobbed out loud hoping that Kuroo would hear and come to your rescue, but it never happened. He had gotten you so used to affection and care that when he ripped it away from you, you were becoming depressed. 

You decided enough was enough and knocked on the guest room door. “Kuroo… Can I come in?” You asked softly in fear of rejection. The door slowly opened and you entered.

You were met with sad yellow eyes and a frown on Kuroo’s usually smug face. You reached out to him and he seemed to fly into your arms. “I thought you were begin to hate me and I thought if i isolated myself you wouldn’t hate me.” He whimpered and you breathed out a laugh. “I thought you were beginning to hate me, Kuroo. I was worried that i was getting too attached and you were trying to tell me that you didn’t to be around me anymore.” Kuroo gasped and looked into your eyes, “That’s not true, you love for your cat is still as strong as it was when you summoned me.” He buried his face into your neck. “If anything I was the one gettin attached…” He mumbled into your neck and you smiled. “So, I’m assuming that its okay for me to get attched too?” Kuroo looked up at you and smiled, “Of course…” He whispered while leaning in to kiss your lips.

____________________________________________________________________________

A few months passed and your relationship with Kuroo had grown strong. You constantly reminded yourself of your cat that had now been dead for over year and you still mourned him like it was yesterday. Kuroo never minded, he understood. Not wanton to be the cause of your death, he encouraged your grieving and gave you the proper space to do so. When you were done, he would always come back to you and comfort you until the left over feelings were gone for the most part. 

Kuroo had been the most patient and loving boyfriend you had ever had. He made you feel loved and secure, he made you feel wanted and welcomed. He told you random facts about chemistry every moring and jokes about physics every night. He always made sure that you felt more than enough and tried his best to fill the void that your hardships had left behind. All in all, Kuroo is the best boy and makes sure you know that.

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Got You

Fandom: Chicago Fire / One Chicago

Character/s: Reader x Gallo, Ritter, Herrmann

Warning/s: grief, loss, death, depression

Word Count: 1,561

Request:  Could you please do a Blake Gallo x reader imagine were you work at the firehouse and you're dating Blake & you have family problems but no one knows about them so they all grow genuinely concerned and they become even more concerned when you lose someone but one night at molly's Blake figures everything out after you break down? thank you 🥺❤️

Summary: Reader struggles to keep her personal life a secret from the Firehouse, especially from her boyfriend, Blake Gallo, but everyone has a breaking point...

“You good?” Ritter asked as you slammed your locker shut a little too hard, leading against his own and regarding you curiously.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You tried your best to sound convincing, but you’d grown up with Ritter, he knew you better than most people, and the look on his face told you he wasn’t buying it. But you didn’t want to tell him what was wrong, or anyone in the Firehouse for that matter, least of all your boyfriend, Gallo. You’d tried not to bring everything to work, the job was hard enough without the extra baggage of your home life distracting you from your job, but as the days went by and the dark tunnel you were in threatened to swallow you whole you were doing a worse and worse job of putting up the facade, he wasn’t the only one to notice that you’d been acting differently.

At breakfast you’d completely zoned out, accidently mixing up the sugar and salt in the waffles, which had obviously not gone down very well at all. Around lunch  you’d miss heard a direct order from Casey in the middle of a rescue, your mind wandering to your problems at home, and being repremanded in front of the rest of truck hadn’t exactly put you in a good mood. Now with Ritter asking if you were okay, that made about half the house that had personally gone out of their way to check up on you, and it was only a matter of time before they all grew genuinely concerned.

“We can talk about it if you want?” He tried, seeing the hesitation in your face. Before you could decide whether to answer, Blake entered to locker room, grinning as he kissed you on the cheek.

“Talk about what?” He asked, clueless to the first part of the conversation. You quickly changed your face into that of a smile, your boyfriend not quite noticing that it didn’t reach your eyes. 

“Getting told off by Casey,” you lied and Ritter frowned. Thankfully Blake’s back was turned, rummaging through his own locker to grab his things as shift wrapped up.

“Ah I’ve been there, you’re still pretty new, he’ll get over it honestly,” he said, throwing on his jacket and turning back to you. “Molly’s?” 

“I’m kind of tired, it’s been a long day, I think I just want to head home,” you told him, which really wasn’t a lie, you just didn’t want him to know why. 

“You sure?” Ritter asked.

“Yeah come on, it’s Friday night, we always do Molly’s on Friday,” Blake said, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Besides, I think Herrmann’s adding a new mystery drink to the menu tonight, I thought you wanted to be there when he unveiled it?” 

There was a question forming in Blake’s eyes, one that asked if you were okay, and so you changed your tune. “Okay, Molly’s it is, but not too late.”

“Not too late, I swear,” he winked and you cast a look at Ritter that told him to leave it alone, but the look of worry didn’t leave his face as the three of you headed out of the Firehouse and to the bar.

Molly’s was pretty crowded when you arrived, nearly all of the usuals were there as you grabbed a booth near the bar. The music was loud and seemed to merge with the talking, and combined with the smell of alcohol and the heat from all the bodies you felt overwhelmed and very small, wanting nothing more than to get out. But you plastered on a smile and tried to follow the conversation with Blake. Drinks were had and a blur of faces passed, Ritter left to the bar, Cruz and Sylvie joined you both for a bit, as did Stella and Kelly, but you couldn’t for the life of you remember when you talked about.

Blake seemed happy to chat along, and you seemed to be keeping up a good appearance of being fine, despite every fiber of your being screaming at you to well... scream. Soon it was time for Herrmann to unveil his fancy new drink, which was probably some horrible cocktail or shot like the last few, he’d been so far unsuccessful in creating an original and signature Molly’s own drink. 

You cheered and clapped as it was revealed, ears ringing so much you didn’t actually remember what he told you was in it. “You coming?” You were vaguely aware of Blake nudging your arm, you turned to look at him. “Come on, let’s go grab one.”

“Er yeah, sure,” you went along to the bar where the rest of 51 was being given this new drink, with instructions to wait to drink it all together. You stared at the browny-gold liquid in the glass that was put in front of you and felt nauseous, but you guessed it wasn’t because of the drink.

“Hey,” Blake put a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back to reality, you turned to see everyone else had had theirs.

“Oh sorry, I... I guess I got a little distracted,” you shrugged.

“Yeah yeah, if you don’t even want to try it just say so,” Herrmann laughed but Blake’s brow furrowed as he looked at you.

“Hey, you kind of look a little pale,” he commented, moving his hand from your shoulder to your own hand resting on the bar. “You feeling okay?” He asked softly, as you became acutely aware that your other friends were glancing at you too.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, the attention making you feel more claustrophobic than you already did, “just tired like I said.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Y/N...”

“You know what, I think it’s time I call it a night,” you got up quickly, accidently knocking the drink over in the process. You paused for a second. “Er sorry, I’ll clean that up,” you reach for it but Herrmann shook his head.

“It’s okay I’ve got it,” he said and you smiled tightly.

“Sorry,” you mumbled again, grabbing your things, heading for the exit as you felt tears pricking in your eyes. 

It was too much, it was all too much, you had to get out before you exploded. You made it to back of Molly’s before you let out a deep, shaky breath, which turned into a sob as you tried to take another. Clutching your stomach in one hand and coving your mouth with the other you felt tears falling down your cheeks as you willed yourself to pull it together.

“Y/N?” You jumped as you turned to see Blake standing a few feet away, no denying the look of complete worry plastered on his face. “Y/N, what...?”

You couldn’t contain it anymore, breaking down in a heart wrenching sob as Blake rushed to you, falling into his arms as you cried. He held on to you, equal parts concerned and confused, one arm around your waist to keep you up as your legs threatened to give way and one stroking your hair as he held you close. He kept whispering in your ear, that he had you, it was okay, he was there for you...

You didn’t know how long you cried, the damn in your chest finally breaking open as all your emotion flooded out. They were gone... they were really gone... You’d spent so long trying to hide it from everyone you knew you’d even hid the reality from yourself. 

You straightened up, keeping hold of Blake’s arms for support as you faced each other. “Y/N...”

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, throat more sore from crying than you’d realised.

“No, hey, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” he moved his hand to cup your face gently and wiping away your tears, “I’m here for you, whatever’s going on, you can tell me.”

“There was a-” you choked and tried to take a steady breath, “there was a car accident... my parents, they- they didn’t- they’re-” You put your hand over your mouth and sobbed again.

“Oh God Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry...” He muttered, taking your other hand in his. “I- I know what you’re going through, believe me I do, and I’m here for you, we all are, no matter what, you’re not alone Y/N.”

Words couldn’t express how much that meant to you, you’d felt like you had lost everything, that any tether keeping you down had snapped any you were floating away in your grief, but you weren’t alone, you still had family left to keep you grounded, to help you try to pick up the pieces... “Thank you,” you managed to say, hoping he understood just how much you meant those two little words.

“Come on, let’s get you home, you don’t have to tell me what happened exactly if you don’t want to, but you’re stuck with me no matter what tonight, alright?” He smiled and kissed your hand.

You swallowed hard and nodded, feeling like you may just float away again if he let go. “No, no I want to, and I want you to stay.” You offer as small a smile as you could muster in return and held on to Blake’s hand tightly, heading off into the night.

Maybe there was a bit of light at the end of this pitch black tunnel.

[thebeautifullydamnedone]

Mess Is Mine

It was early. Too early. My head was pounding and all I wanted to do was to lie down and shut my eyes for a few hours. The likelihood of that happening now though was impossible. I could already hear the birds chirping outside; the coffee maker down the hall was whirring noisily doing its only job. I rubbed my temples as I glanced up, my tear soaked cheeks flushed from the crying. He was staring across the room at something, or maybe nothing.

His hair was disheveled and he looked just as upset as you. This had been building up for a while now. He was away all the time, and every time he left and came back he seemed more and more preoccupied, more and more changed by his job. You could understand, his entire job meant seeing horrible things and trying to stop them. Sometimes he was able to succeed, but the times a victim couldn’t be saved were the worst.

Lately, he’d been taking the losses so personally, and nothing could change his mind. He was the single-handed most stubborn person you’d ever come across. You shook your head and glanced away from him right as his beautiful eyes landed on you. You desperately tried to swallow the lump in your throat.

This was it right? This was where it ended…

More tears welled up and spilled over and you angrily wiped them away. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I’d cried all night. Honestly, I couldn’t even remember what had started the fight. Only that it had brought up so much shit it was hard to tell what we were even fighting about anymore.

“What can I do?”

His voice from across the bed jarred you from your memory of screaming in each other’s faces. The first emotion you’d seen from him in a week or so. The first emotion that wasn’t a depressed sigh or prolonged staring. The first real attention he’d given you besides quick pecks on the cheek or an ‘I love you’ before bed as he stared at the pages of a book. “What?”

You shifted slightly on the bed, enough to turn and see him. He was staring right at you, and it caught you completely off guard. He hadn’t been big on making eye contact lately. Right now, with tears still in them his usually hazel eyes looked almost a beautiful brownish green. You swallowed harshly again. He looked so helpless, so utterly confused, but even more he looked scared. And you knew why he was scared, because God you were scared too.

“What can I do…...to fix this?”

The question struck a chord, and not a good one. You gritted your teeth. “What can you do?” You repeated the question back to him and instantly he registered the angry undertone in your voice. You shook your head and looked away. He was by all normal definitions a genius, yet when it came to relationships he was as dumb as any other guy. “You know…. I really thought I was pretty clear about what I needed you to do, what you could do.”

I looked back over at him and watched as his mouth opened and then closed quickly. Good, he was choosing his words carefully. “Spencer,” I licked my lips and racked my brain for how to word it. “I don’t know what I can do anymore. I’ve been trying so hard, but it’s like you’re not.” You looked down at the balled-up fists in your lap and sighed.

“Is it my job? Do you want me to leave the BAU?”

Standing up angrily you began pacing the room. “No, Jesus, Spencer! I want you to be here. I want you to be able to come home and be with me!” He looked up at you and the confusion was ever apparent on his face. He had no idea, truly, what you were talking about. And that somehow made it that much worse.

“You walk around this house like a God damn ghost lately! You come home, but you don’t really, because your mind is still there. I try talking to you, try talking about what’s bothering you but you don’t want to. I don’t want you to leave your job, you love your job. I just want you to be able to come home to this beautiful house we have, home to me, and actually enjoy your life.”

You had stopped pacing somewhere in that entire one-breath rant and just stared at him. He swallowed and glanced away from you. “Listen, Spencer,” You walked over and grabbed his hands tightly. “I love you. I love you so much. But I can’t do this anymore.” You shook your head as his eyes met yours again. “It’s like you don’t want to be here anymore. Like your mind is just somewhere else all the time and no matter how hard I try to get you back you’re just gone. You’re struggling and you constantly refuse my help. And I just don’t know if I can do it anymore.”

The alarm clock on the bedside table started blaring its loud alarm but neither of you made a move to turn it off. You were both locked in this moment, locked in each other, realizing this could be it. You could be over. You’d built this beautiful life together. You had been with each other since two years after he finished high school. You’d met so young this was all either of you had ever known. You shared a house together and half the time you just carpooled because you loved spending time together. Lately, it hadn’t been like that, but before you couldn’t get enough of each other.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence I released his hands and stood up. “I have to get ready for work.” I walked over to the night stand and shut off the alarm before sulking to the bathroom and shutting the door. I quickly shed my nightgown and turned on the hot water. During the shower. I let it all go, the tears that I’d held back as I told Spence I couldn’t keep this up. Everything. And it felt good, but only fleetingly.

When I stepped out of the shower it was like my whole body ached. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep the day away. But work wouldn’t allow me to call in so late. Wrapping a towel around my body I walked to the bathroom door and hesitated before opening it. We were both tired, and maybe I’d overreacted last night. I loved Spencer with every single fiber of my being, could I really walk away from him? Shuddering at the thought I opened the bathroom door and walked back into the bedroom “Spence?”

You glanced around but he wasn’t in the bedroom anymore. Sighing I walked down the hallway to the kitchen. “Spencer?” Something my mom had said popped into my head.

Never go to bed angry, but never go to work angry either, it just ruins your whole day for nothing.

When you got to the kitchen nothing had been moved. There were still two coffee mugs next to the coffee maker just waiting. But he wasn’t here. My eyes shifted around the room and came across a piece of paper by my keys that hadn’t been there before. I walked over quickly and yanked it up.

Left for work. I’ll leave, if that’s what you want.

I love you forever,

Spence

My eyes welled up with tears again. My heart was now physically aching. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. How could something so absolutely perfect turn out this way. How could the best thing to ever happen to you end up like this? I held the towel tightly to my body and leaned against the counter.

The sobs racked my entire body. This was really it. This perfect love of ours was really over if things couldn’t change. I don’t know how long I sat there, leaning on the counter for support. But the sound of my cell ringing from the next room pulled me out of it. I walked quickly down the hallway, wiping at my tears once more. I yanked my cell off the charger and realized it was my boss calling me. I cleared my throat a few times and then answered. “Hello?”

“Hey Kate! You okay, you sound off?” I swallowed the growing lump in my throat again and sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just feel a little off today.”

“Oh…well, that makes my news even better then! Listen, we’re a bit over-staffed today, I was wondering if you’d want to just take the day off?”

It was the best thing I could have heard, especially after finding Spencer’s note. “Um, yeah! That actually works out! Thanks Sherri.” She told me to have a good day and hung up. I placed my phone back on the nightstand and sat down on the edge of the bed. I shook my head and rubbed my temples once more.

After a few moments, I stood up and walked to the dresser. I grabbed out a t-shirt of Spencer’s and a pair of sweats and tugged them on. I walked back over to the bed and laid down. The tears came again and I let them as I laid there tightly wrapped in the blankets that smelled like a combination of myself and Spencer.

At some point, I drifted off but I woke up to my cell ringing once more. I groaned and rolled over, groping the night stand for it until my hand found it. I pulled it closer to my face, my eyes aching from all the crying. Garcia. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to her right now. I ignored the call with a promise to myself I’d call her later. Knowing her she’d gotten it out of Spence and wanted to talk to me too.

Rolling back over I closed my eyes but they flung open wildly when the house phone rang. The house phone was used for one thing and one thing only, for the BAU to get into contact with Spencer, and it was usually only for emergencies. “Shit.”

I flung the covers off of me and ran down the hallway to the kitchen. I half skidded across the floor and yanked the phone off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Kate….” My eyes instantly welled up with tears when she spoke. It was Garcia, except it wasn’t because her usually bubbly demeanor was hesitant and it was obvious she was distressed.

“He’s okay. Tell me that he’s okay.”

She took a deep breath and I held my hand over my mouth. “He’s going to be okay. He was shot.” I cried out, unable to hold it in any longer. It couldn’t end like this. Not like that. “Listen to me, okay? He’s on his way to Saint Ann’s Medical Center. He’s in pretty bad shape, the bullet very narrowly missed his heart. They’re working on him now.”

I hated to do it but I hung up. I couldn’t hear any more. I flung myself back down the hallway. Throwing on a bra and some shoes I grabbed my phone, purse, and keys and was out the door. The drive there was a blur. I was sobbing and speeding but I finally made it there. I barely had the car in park before I was out. I didn’t bother to lock it because absolutely nothing mattered more than getting to him.

Running in I glanced around wildly, reading the signs to get to the emergency room. I found Morgan and Emily pacing back and forth. “Morgan!” I ran over so quickly I could have flown and he grabbed me up and hugged me as I sobbed. “W-What happened?!”

He held on tightly as he explained that they’d been talking an unsub down from a hostage situation when he’d turned his gun on Reid. Morgan tried to talk the gun out of his hand but the unsub had lost his temper and shot Spencer. “The doctors are working really hard to get him back, okay? Just don’t worry too much until we have to, alright?” I nodded and let him release me from the hug. We all sat down and waited.

It was a few hours with very few updates, at one point he was very touch and go and I realized I could honestly lose him. Forever. Suddenly, none of it made sense. The fight. Even the thought of breaking up with the man I loved more than anything in this world seemed so ridiculous. Finally, a doctor came through the doors and glanced around before finding my eyes. He walked over and I quickly stood up. “How is he?”

“He’s stable. We were able to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out. It very narrowly missed his heart...” His eyes turned to the rest of the team. “He’ll be out for a while, this was an extremely close call.” He turned back to me and gave me a small smile. “He was coming out of anesthesia when I left, he said your name. I’m assuming you want to see him?”

I nodded quickly and he glanced back at the rest of the team. “I’ll let the rest of you back when he’s a little stronger.” They all nodded and gave me quick hugs before the doctor pulled me back through the doors and down a series of complex hallways. Finally, we ended up outside of a room with a bunch of beeping, whirring machines. “He’ll be very weak, so try not to push him. He might need to rest soon.”

Nodding I gripped the door handle tightly and pushed opened the door. When I saw him, the tears rushed down my cheeks again. He was so damn pale it was scary. The bandages over his chest were a reminder that I almost lost him today. I walked over slowly and pulled up a chair. I sat down and quickly grabbed his hand so tightly in mine. “Spence…. oh my God…” His eyes were closed and I wasn’t sure he could even hear me.

Staring at his face I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe he’d ended up here. I couldn’t believe I let him walk out of the house thinking we were breaking up. Almost died thinking that I didn’t love him and want him with everything. “You can’t ever do this again, okay? Never. Spencer, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much baby, I am so sorry for last night and this morning. I didn’t mean any of it. I cannot imagine my life without you.”

His eyelids fluttered a little but his eyes remained closed. “Spencer,” I waited for a second, willing his eyes to open for me. I wasn’t sure if he could hear me but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Spence, I’m pregnant….” I squeezed his hand as I said the news I’d been holding in all week. I’d been waiting for the perfect time to tell him but then we just kept fighting and I’d push it off. “S-So, you can’t leave, okay? You can’t ever leave because I can’t do this by myself. I need you.”

I began crying and buried my face in the covers right next to his hand. He had to be okay, because I would be utterly lost without him. I felt his hand squeeze mine before I heard his raspy voice speak to me. “You’re pregnant?” My head lifted so fast when I heard his voice. The crying started right back up as his eyes met mine, and they were filled with tears. I was so overjoyed to see him awake I lost the ability to speak momentarily so I merely nodded. He gave me the absolute biggest smile and released my hand for a moment. “That’s so amazing, come here.”

He opened his arms and I scurried to climb into the bed with him. I was so careful to lay beside him and I squeezed him just a little bit. “I’m so sorry, Spence. I didn’t mean it, okay? I love you so much and I will never ever leave. And I don’t ever want you to leave either.” I looked up at him and he gently wiped the tears from my eyes.

He nodded and smiled. “I know. It’s okay. All is forgiven.” I nodded and grasped his hand tightly in mind. He cleared his throat and nodded behind me. “Well, you’ve shared some news with me so it’s my turn. Will you grab my jacket?” My eyebrows furrowed together as I swung my legs over the bed and stood up. He saw my confusion and smiled. “I promise, it’ll be worth it. Just hand me my jacket, woman.”

Smiling slightly, I turned around and found the plastic bag with his belongings in it. I reached in and grabbed his jacket. I turned around and handed it to him. He smiled and then patted the bed beside him as he struggled to sit up. “Be careful!” I scolded him as I watched him wince in pain. I walked over dutifully and sat down on the edge of the bed. I watched curiously as he reached into his jacket pocket but instantly my eyes widened when he pulled out a beautiful little box. “Spence…”

My hand flew over my mouth as he opened the box and the most beautiful diamond ring sat waiting for me. “Katherine Elizabeth Johnson, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” As if I hadn’t had enough I began crying again as I nodded so quickly my neck hurt.

“Of course, I will, Spencer!” He reached over and grabbed my left hand and put the diamond on my finger. I admired it for minutes as I hugged him and cried and realized that I was the absolute luckiest girl in the entire world.

I couldn’t possibly ask for anything more.

We were a mess. Me. Him.

But together we were a beautiful mess.

[hosierydarling]

Parade

Samantha twitched…and twitched. There was just no escaping it. Her body was betraying her, all afire with need. She had even had to hold her leash chain within her jaw to keep all her uncontrollable cries stifled, after all it would not do to alarm her passengers. She needed to keep her focus on the road, her white knuckled hands upon the wheel. Her brand new sister, Rubi, was being taken to her first fetish ball. “I want to sit in back with Mistress!!”, she had cried joyously as they left the house. Miss Eva had caught Sam’s eye slyly, tossing the keys her way, replying breezily, “ I guess that means you’re driving, My treasure.” Both of the girls were excited, even if Sam had been to such events before; being there for her sister’s first time would be a delight. Before leaving Miss Eva had selected outfits for both her girls (both hidden presently under trenchcoats). Rubi was decked out in clinging shining vinyl of the deepest black, the catsuit had been designed with strategic cutouts over her breasts and her pussy, for easier access (as Miss Eva would often put it). Samantha was topless under her coat, and wearing nought but a garter and stocking set. The garters black with crimson accents, the welt of the stockings matching that stark red. Each girl was also fitted with a long thick dildo within the roundness of their rumps, buzzing at a none-too-gentle setting. Miss Eva had also had the ingenuity to connect the girls by those dildos stuffed so far up within them, she had threaded a chain through the back panel of the front seat after they had sat, and connected the chain ends to the cap of each dildo. The chain was not very long so that Rubi could not sit fully back against the back seat, not without sitting twisted sideways. But the excitable girl was perfectly willing to sit on the floor of the back seat at her Mistress’s feet. Satisfied with the way Her girls were set up within the limo, Miss Eva sauntered round the back to the passenger side and settled within, and they were on their way. It should have been an easy ride, the venue for the ball was not all that far from Miss Eva’s residence; just a short ride up the freeway. But, Rubi took it upon herself (much to their Mistress’s delight) to pleasure her owner on the way, insinuating herself between Miss Eva’s legs and diving under Her skirt to lash her tongue at that divine sex. This, of course, would not bother Samantha in the slightest…as it gave her the greatest joy to see both of the ladies in her life satisfied to the fullest…except that she was tethered to her sister’s lifting bouncing ass as she was trying to drive. Gritting her teeth, almost chewing on the chain of her leash, her body shuddering, her sex calling to her as perspiration gathered between her tits, she kept her eyes riveted on the road. Eventually however, the call of her body’s craving was to be Samantha’s undoing. After all, she could hear the delicious purrs of her Mistress, and she could feel each and every bob of her sister’s ass as it tugged upon her own, compounding the effect of the incessant throbbing of the phallus. Concentration threatening to slip from her, Samantha eased the limo to the side of the freeway and put it in park. Deftly unbuttoning her coat and pulling it open, she began to pull and knead the soft swell of her tits, teeth firmly clamped upon the leash. She ran her fingers over her prickled and ignited skin, arching off the driver’s seat and issuing the softest of sighs. Her body would jump almost imperceptibly every time either her Mistress’s or Rubi’s voice climbed in pitch, her mind’s eye envisioning the state of the pair behind the tinted screen. Sliding those endless silken stems as wide apart as she could manage, her hand began to slide between her thighs, softly caressing her bare mound as she arched like a cat and exhaled breathily. By this time, her two passengers had recovered themselves enough to realized that the motion was absent from their journey, and had lowered the screen between front and back. Samantha just knew that Rubi had twisted her flexible young form enough to prop her chin on the driver seat, at the same time Miss Eva had leant forward purred in Her way, “What’cha doing, Samantha?” The only reply was a long drawn out moan through gritted teeth that sent shivers down both women’s spines. Miss Eva twisted to one side in the back and leant down enough to unhook Rubi from her sister, and then sat up and whispered something in the sexy little critter’s ear, something that made her eyes widen in joy. As Miss Eva reached along for the power button to open the sunroof, Rubi clambered over the seats to join her sister in front. Samantha’s brow was furrowed and her teeth clenched as she reddened swiftly with her sister’s eyes upon her. The look upon Rubi’s features almost chastising her as she looked upon Sam’s wandering hands, watching as they dipped into the hollow between her legs. With Miss Eva silently guiding her, Rubi slipped herself into the depression between driver and front passenger seat, manoeuvring herself around the shift stick, getting as close to her sister as possible and pushing her up against the seat. At the same moment, Miss Eva was at Sam’s ear, purring as She grasped the girl’s shoulders and lifted her. Samantha whimpered through the chain as both women’s hands were now on her. As she was pushed back and lifted her sky high pumps fell off her curling toes to clatter against the brake pedal. All of a sudden the wind from the freeway was whipping Samantha’s hair back and kissing her nipples with the chill of the breezy afternoon. Her Mistress’s hands had wrapped round her throat, caressing the three black roses and clamping her to the seat, as her sister moved between her thighs and started to lick and devour her pussy, just as she had Miss Eva’s just seconds before. The chain fell from Samantha’s mouth to bounce a few times between her tits as it sank heavily to dangle. Her cries went out to the traffic, spilling from her throat in earnest as her voice was now freed. Rubi’s tongue did not let up in her fervor to taste of her beloved sister. That tongue curled round her clit, and pushed into the folds of her heat with much enthusiasm, and perhaps impatience for her meal. Miss Eva cooed into Samantha’s ear, letting her own tongue trace the coils of the flesh of that shell. Her fingers squeezing just by the mere treat of hearing Her pet cry to the world. As Rubi pulled Samantha’s leg open wider she absent-mindedly propped her foot on the steering wheel, too engrossed in her sister’s cunt to care. In that moment, the blaring wail of the limo horn streaked out across the freeway. Cars were slowing at that point, honking back in response. The wind would carry away random phrases like “nice tits” and “yeah baby!” As Samantha slid into the welcome abandon of her lusts she vaguely noticed that the freeway traffic was coming to a standstill. The swift rush of it was stilling to a complete halt as Samantha’s squeals and urges for more of her sister’s tongue were echoing through the wind. Her cries attracting all the attention of the commuters. The passersby were putting their vehicles into park in the middle of the standstill traffic, getting out of their cars and sitting on their hoods or even drifting close to watch this half naked woman just escalating into the throes of orgasm. Men and women alike, their attention held rapt on Samantha’s ecstasy. Miss Eva’s eyes twinkled as she peered out of the tinted windows at the rush of onlookers delighting in her pet, she leaned up towards the sun roof and whispered to Sam to simply cum when she was ready. Sam planted her hands back on the edges of the sunroof opening behind her, body bowed, tits bared to the world as she writhed along half in and half out of the car. The first murmurings of her climax licking up her spine, bent sharply as she tossed her head back screaming, hair streaming behind her. Rubi would not let up, spurred on by all of her sisters cries and the rhythmic undulation of her body, crying to be undone. She continued to plunge her tongue deep within her sister’s velvet sheathe coaxing her essence from within that tight dewy canal. Curling her fingers round the framework of the roof Samantha let loose a howl of sheer unadulterated bliss as her body unraveled and began to convulse along the roof to the cheers of the masses gathered. She could faintly hear her sister’s moan from within the car as she received the prize she was seeking, and pressed herself even tighter to Samantha’s pulsing sheathe as she drank down every last bit of her nectar. As Samantha continued to quiver, both her Mistress and her sister eased her back into the car. Miss Eva opened the car door and gathered both of her girls by the leash loops and guided them out of the car on their knees, She paraded them up and down a short length of the freeway twice for the (already won) approval of those gathered. She then walked them back to the car to the sound of thunderous applause. The onlookers were swiftly getting back to their vehicles as the traffic up ahead seemed to be clearing. A few of the commuters did attempt to throw themselves at Miss Eva’s feet in the hopes of similar treatment to their own person’s in future. She responded with a few mere blown kisses, rich with the promise of missed opportunity. As She got her girls settled back into the car, She leaned forward to Samantha and inquired gently, “Do you think you might be able to drive, now Mine…?” Samantha turned and nodded softly, “yes Mistress.” Miss Eva leaned back and idly stroked Rubi’s soft short blonde locks and offered a firm wicked smile, “very well, Rubi, let’s get your sister back home so we can punish her for our missing the ball.”

[oboevallis]

baby blues pt 1

TW: postpartum depression and hopelessness

this was a request on my wattpad

"I'll get him." Link groaned as he sat up in bed to tend to their baby's cries. Amelia only nodded and continued to look up at the ceiling.   She couldn't sleep, she hadn't slept in days. She couldn't seem to shut her mind off. Anything literally anything could happen to her baby, and the thought paralyzed her.  After a couple of minutes Link sleepily walked back into their room and crawled into bed next to her. He draped an arm across her which she pushed off, and climbed out of bed. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go check on Scout."

"I just did. He's fine go back to bed." Link groggily said.

"I'll just get some water then." Amelia said as she softly closed their bedroom door. She stopped at their sons door and quietly opened it. To her surprise her son was still awake, and kicking his legs absentmindedly in his crib. She watched him in his innocent state and couldn't help but beat herself up, she'd been a mother for three weeks and already felt like she was failing him.

"I'm so sorry little guy. You deserve so much better. You have an amazing dad though. Probably the best." The boys mother apologized. She then turned around and left the room leaving the door opened a crack. She knew she couldn't go back to sleep so she grabbed her keys and a coat and shoved her feet into some shoes without caring to properly put them on. She wasn't quite sure what her plan was. It was rather cold out even though it was nearing the summer months. Links apartment building was located in a rather busy part of the city. There were always a lot of college aged kids around getting themselves into trouble. She missed that when she was in college, she couldn't drink or experiment with drugs because by that point she was a recovering addict, she wished she could go back. Never accept that pill from a friend, never of went to work with her father that one day, never crashed her brothers car, but all of this was set in stone. How was she expected to mother a child if she was so immature herself.

As she mindlessly walked the city she realized mostly everywhere was closed, so it must of been really late. She hadn't thought to bring her phone or check the time before she left Links apartment. The only place that seemed to be open was a small run down bar at the end of a street. Every fiber of her being was telling her to not go in there. Not break her sobriety. Not be at day one yet again. Not be a failure as a mother, but she went in anyway.

"Hey, what can I getca?" The older gentleman working the bar greeted.

"Umm." Amelia hesitated, she hadn't thought about what she was going to order. She hadn't thought about anything for that matter, it was the first time in three weeks where she wasn't worrying about her baby. "Do you have a phone?"

"Yes ma'am on that wall over there, it may be a little staticky but should do the trick."

"Thanks." Amelia made her way over to the old pay phone, and sat on the chair set up next to it. She felt as though she went back in time and was in a run down old fashioned bar in New York. She shoved her hands into the pocket of the coat she was wearing and quickly realized it wasn't her own, but her boyfriends. She took out some gum wrappers, receipts, and some old change (which she was looking for), but felt a small velvet box in addition. She quietly gasped when she realized what it was. She carefully opened the ring box, and observed the ring inside of it. It reminded her of her mother's wedding ring.  She quickly closed the box and shoved it back into the coats pocket. Her boyfriend really needed to find some better hiding spots. Then she shifted through the change and counted out 25 cents. She had an important phone call to make.

________________________________________

"Amelia?" Link groggily called out. He sat up in their bed to find that his girlfriend wasn't beside him. He looked over to her nightstand and saw her phone still attached to the charger. So she must of been checking in on the baby, she practically took her phone everywhere even if she was just going to the kitchen. He decided to go into his sons room to see Amelia and Scout together, it was his favorite sight. But to his surprise the baby was fast asleep, and there was no Amelia in sight.

"Amelia?" He called out again. Starting to feel his blood pumping. He walked out into the kitchen and noticed the time on the stoves clock. 1:47 am. It was ungodly early, and there was no sign of Amelia. He quickly went to the door, and noticed her keys were gone from the rack. Maybe she went to the store, definitely. Maybe she need some milk, or pads, or something. She was fine right? Link was starting to panic she had never done anything like this. He quickly ran back into their room and grabbed his phone off of the charger.

"Meredith?" He asked once she answered.

"Link, what? It's 2 in the morning, I'm sure Scout is fine, it's probably just colic." Meredith groggily replied, trying to assume where this was going. She had just gotten off a twenty four hour shift and just wanted to sleep.

"No, it's not about Scout. It's about Amelia is she over at your place?" He heard a moment of silence and then rustling of bed sheets indicating Meredith was getting up, after a couple of moments Meredith spoke.

"She's not in her room or downstairs. I'm sure she probably just went for a walk."

"At 2 in the morning?" Link asked starting to stress, he ran a hand through his hair quickly.

"I don't know Amelia is odd. I'm sure she'll call any moment or come home."

"No her phone is still here."

"Oh."

"Oh? Oh what?"

"I'm not sure. I'm sure everything will be fine." Meredith tried to reassure. "Do you have any bars near your apartment?"

"You think she's drinking?" Link asked shocked.

"I'm not sure link, let's not freak out."

"Let's not freak out? Your kidding right?"

"I'm sure Amelia is not going to risk her sobriety. I mean she wouldn't even take pain meds when she had a whole brain tumor removed."

"There's a bar about two blocks away. It's called Paul's."

"Okay I'll go."

"Wait shouldn't I go?" Link asked.

"No just stay with Scout. I'll find her."

"Thank you Meredith."

_______________________________________

Meredith parallel parked her car and made her way into the bar. It wasn't one she'd ever been to before. It was small and had probably been there for as long as she'd ben alive. She was surprised at the number of people in the bar for a Thursday night.

"Can I get anything for you?" The bartender asked once Meredith stepped in. She scanned the room looking for her sister in law and walked over to the bartender.

"Has a relatively short woman with short brown hair come in tonight?"

"Um yeah." He pointed towards the back of the bar where a small pay phone was, and where Amelia was . "That her?"

"Yes, thank you." Meredith started to walk away towards her before she turned around. "Has she ordered anything?"

"No. She seemed kind of upset when she came in. She's been on the phone since she came in, around an hour ago."

"Thank you." She walked to the back of the bar, and sat in the empty chair next to her sister in law causing the younger woman to jump.

"I have to go. I'll talk to you later. Love you too." Amelia ended her call. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Meredith repeated her question.

"I don't know." 

"Amelia are you okay?"

"Yeah I haven't had anything to drink."

"That's not what I meant." Meredith hesitated for a moment before she continued. "When I had Ellis. I struggled for awhile, but I had these sisters who helped me, and helped me get help. If you need help we're all here Amelia."

"I know. I'm just tired."

"Amelia, it's okay if your sad. It's perfectly normal after having a baby." Amelia simply nodded. "May I ask who you were talking to?"

"An old friend from LA."

"Want me to take you home?"

"Yes please."

________________________________________

Meredith shot Link a quick text letting him know that his girlfriend was alright and they were on their way back. The car was eerily silent, Amelia was always talking about something. Once at a stop light Meredith really got a good look at her sister. She looked exhausted.

"Whens the last time you slept?"

"I don't know." Amelia honestly confessed. "It's not like I do much. Link mostly does everything. They'd honestly be better off without me."

"Amelia you know that's not true." Meredith was taken aback by her confession.

"You don't know that." Amelia quietly said. Once Meredith pulled up to the apartment complex she got out of the car with Amelia. "You don't have to come in you've already done enough Meredith."

"It's okay, I want to see my nephew anyway." Meredith kindly smiled, as she unbuckled her seatbelt. The walk up to the apartment was silent until they walked through the door.

"Amelia! Where the hell have you been? You could've gotten yourself killed! Walking around a city in the middle of the night you didn't even have your phone!" Link lashed out once the pair walked through the door, but instantly regretted once he saw that his outburst caused his girlfriend to start crying. She quickly walked past him and slammed their bedroom door causing their son to start crying. "Oh, Amelia I'm sorry."

"I'll go get Scout. We should talk Link." Meredith simply said.

________________________________________

"She said that?" Links knee nervously bounced as he sat in the rocking chair in their sons room.

"Yeah." Meredith sadly said, while gently bouncing her nephew. "She did."

"I mean I knew she wasn't sleeping and she seemed sad and she doesn't really bond with Scout. But I can tell she loves him so much."

"This has nothing to do with how much Amelia loves Scout. Obviously she loves him. Postpartum depression is very common, especially in woman who have lost a child previously. We'll get Amelia help, she'll be okay." Meredith reassured.

"Thank you, Meredith."

"Of course. I'll give you the number to my therapist, they were able to help me slot after Ellis was born."

"You had it too?"

"Yeah, not to the extent it seems Amelia does, but I know what she's going through. I'll come by tomorrow and watch Scout so you two can talk and set up an appointment." Meredith whispered as she put the sleeping baby into his crib."

"Thank you so much." Link tightly hugged Meredith as he silently cried.

"Of course."

part 2

[derireo]

rooftop talk ↦ itaru & izumi

Maybe Izumi was glad that the gamer nerd ended up being the person who discovered her hideout on the rooftop.

It's been years since she last talked to someone like this.

「 2.1k words 」

cw: mild hurt/comfort, family complications. can be connected to the workaholic.

Izumi wouldn't say she was depressed but going back to an empty home probably wasn’t the best feeling. She’d rather admit she was lonely.

Her father disappeared when she was fourteen, never leaving a note of any sort. He was a good father, that man, so it was like a punch to the face when Izumi and her mother woke up to his things no longer in the house and the car no longer in the community garage.

His disappearance left Izumi's mom to take care of the bills of the house, the groceries, and her school tuition.

This meant working multiple jobs. This meant coming home for a couple of hours and then leaving again. This meant blaming Izumi for something she couldn’t control. Her mother even had the audacity to glare at her whenever they were in the house at the same time, but Izumi could only choose the option to ignore it.

That was all she could do if she was living in her mother's house and so to lessen the chances of running into her, Izumi got a job at the convenience store at the young age of fifteen. She was given shifts on the weekend at first, but she begged for graveyard.

If working late into the night ‘til morning was what was going to reduce the risk of running into her mom at home, she’d take it. She'd even rather sleep at the school.

And Izumi’s manager was reluctant in giving her the shifts, knowing that she was only a child in tenth grade, but the desperation in her eyes had him yielding. He couldn’t say no if that was really what she wanted. She had told him that her mother had given her permission after all, and they needed someone to work the graveyard shift anyway.

So, years passed, with Izumi working nearly every night until morning only to then go to school afterwards, taking her naps during lunch break and then another nap at home when she had the day off. Each second, minute, hour, and day was spent in silence. The only sound that would fill her ears at home would be the scratch of her pencil against paper or the whistling of the rice cooker.

She grew accustomed to this silence that lived inside the house alongside her and absolutely hated the noise at school. The laughter behind everyone’s eyes as they talked with their friends, the bullies who would pick on the sickly boy in the corner of the room, to the stampeding of students running down the hall drove Izumi crazy.  

They were the reason why the rooftop was her home now.

She didn’t have any friends, nor did she enjoy having fun at the expense of others, so when Izumi discovered the doors to the rooftop, she knew she had hit the jackpot.

It was a breezy spring day when Izumi visited the rooftop for the umpteenth time.

Students weren't allowed to visit the rooftop as the place was used as a hideout for those who wanted to skip their classes and for those poor victims who were dragged here to get beaten down by their cruel bullies. The doors had been barricaded indoors by the teachers, a large, rotting plank having been slipped through the handles while old desks and chairs sat in front. It was like what you would see in a horror movie set in a high school.

It was spooky looking enough to steer naughty students away, but not enough to scare Izumi. The school wasn't known for ghosts, after all—not that she believed in any, and she needed a place to kill time. She threw that wooden plank to the side and dragged every single piece of abandoned furniture out of the way when she first came across it.

And so, here Izumi was. Sitting on the ground with her legs dangling on the edge of the roof with an old, iron railing keeping her safe from falling and going SPLAT.

Quiet. She thought to herself, sliding her arms through the barred railing with her fingers outstretched. The breeze slithered through the cracks between her fingers as it blew her light brown hair back, cooling her already chilly skin.

The silence is stifling.

The sound of the door clicking open made Izumi pause her thoughts, arms still held up in the air as the wind blew at her uniform skirt and the sun kissed her skin.

She turned her head to see a boy, probably her age, frozen in his tracks. He wore thick rectangular framed glasses and had messy blond hair that covered them. She noticed the bento box that was tucked under his arm as well as the small gaming device in his hand. Pursing her lips, she took a chance and guessed that maybe she wasn’t the only one who knew that the rooftop had opened again. Albeit secretly.

The boy took a flustered step back in order to leave the rooftop, but Izumi shook her head and waved her hand. She didn’t mind cutting her break short if he needed time to himself.

“It’s cool.” She said. “You can stay.”

She scooted back and bent her legs to release herself from the railing, skin dirty and grey with dust. The breeze had made her hair all tangled and cool to the touch, and she dragged her calloused fingers through the strands while her other hand pushed her body off the ground. Her black sneakers picked up an ugly ashen hue too, but she decided not to care too much about it as she looked at the boy again and nodded.

His lips parted in surprise when her brown eyes focused on him, and he waved his hand that held his device to keep Izumi from leaving.

“Sorry, I didn’t know someone was up here. Don’t go.” He apologised.

His stiff body was blocking the doors, preventing her from leaving like she had planned. His shoulders were hunched forward as he stood with terrible posture and his glasses perched right on the tip of his nose.

The silence between them was uncomfortable as Izumi struggled to come up with an excuse to leave. She didn’t know it, but her face was terribly expressive, and the boy was able to tell that she was conflicted.

He spoke before the silence drew longer. “We can share the rooftop together… I was only planning on eating my lunch here.”

The suggestion held no ill intent, but Izumi was still reluctant. She crossed her arms over her chest with pursed lips and raked her eyes up and down the person’s body. She’d never seen him around before, that’s for sure. He probably (hopefully) didn’t have any interest in her.

“Itaru.” The boy piped up again, voice meek. “My name’s Itaru Chigasaki. I’m a senior like you.”

Izumi uncrossed her arms and took a step back. She had most likely heard of his name before, but rarely paid enough attention in class to remember. Izumi’s feet were careful as they brought her back to the spot where she sat not too long ago and waved Itaru over with her hand, beckoning him to join her.

“I’m guessing you’ve seen me around if you know that we’re both Grads.” She spoke quietly, pushing her legs through the spaces of the railing again as the boy reluctantly shuffled to her side.

He nodded to confirm her guess and kept his distance away from the rooftop’s edge.

“We share Homeroom together.” Itaru said, popping open the lid to his bento box. “You’re always half an hour late.”

Izumi pressed her lips into a thin line and looked out into the city, going silent. The sunshine painted the buildings with a shimmery gold as the wind whipped through her hair. The cool but sunny weather was great on a lonely day like this, and Itaru gazed at Izumi with curiosity as he shoved a piece of sausage into his mouth with some rice.

He would never admit it but Itaru had come up to the rooftop today in hopes of catching Izumi here. And boy, was he glad to have swallowed his anxiety and pushed open the rooftop doors.

The last time he had seen her here, she was in tears, letter in hand. He could barely see the writing on the envelope that she had dropped on the floor, but he recognized the black scrawl spelling out ‘From: Papa’.

There were crystalline beads rolling down her cheeks then, sleeves stained with tears and dirt as the paper in her angry hand crumpled. Itaru remembered how she cried out into the roaring wind that day, and how her voice was drowned out by the school bell.

Itaru’s reminiscing was abruptly interrupted by the clearing of Izumi’s throat. She made it seem like she was going to say something and the audio cue reminded Itaru to chew his food.

“Yeah. My job ends in the morning.” She answered him, resting back on her palms.

The blond glanced at her through his fluttering fringe. “Don’t you get tired at all?”

It was an innocent question, but Izumi still laughed. How would you respond if someone asked you the same thing?

She turned her head in Itaru’s direction and sent him a kind smile. He paused in the middle of shoving rice into his mouth to patiently wait for her answer.

“Don’t you get tired at all?” She asked.

Itaru fish mouthed. “Well. Sometimes. When I study a little longer than usual, yeah—”

“That’s not what I meant.” Izumi laughed. The corners of her eyes crinkled and she gave Itaru a genuine smile, knocking her fist into his shoulder as if she’d known him for years. “You knew what I meant, right?”

Her tone was full of warmth despite the fact that she was laughing at him, but Itaru didn’t seem to mind. Her amusement wasn’t at his own expense, and Itaru felt comfort in that.

“I do get tired.” He sighed softly, biting at the ends of his chopsticks.

Years of trying to blend in to the crowd and avoid those who only caused trouble for him wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Plus, someone had found out that he was a total gamer nerd and people decided that that was good enough of a reason to push him around. That meant Itaru had to give up on hiding because of the rumor that quickly spread, and he didn’t have the heart to ask his mom for another transfer.

“Then you’ve got the answer you were looking for.” Izumi shrugged. She took a glance at the gaming console he had resting in his lap and went back to looking at the city. “I’d feel the same way if I was the kid who got bullied for liking video games.”

Her voice was gentle, but the last statement felt like a punch in the gut. Itaru put down his lunch box while swallowing the food in his mouth to defend himself, but Izumi kept talking.

“What’s wrong with having a hobby? Wasting money on games is so much better than wasting time hurting somebody's feelings.”

Itaru felt his throat tighten. “...Exactly.”

The bell rang just as Izumi gave Itaru a comforting pat on the shoulder, signifying that their lunch break was finally over.

The corners of his mouth lifted up into a smile and Izumi let out a pleased hum at the new expression. She removed her hand from his shoulder and heaved herself up from the ground, brushing off the dirt on her legs and skirt.

“It was cool meeting you, Itaru.” She said casually, holding out her hand for the boy to take.

Gratefully, he quickly packed his stuff up and tucked it under his arm before taking her hand, hauling himself up with the help of Izumi.

“You too.” He exhaled, out of breath for some odd reason. Itaru’s heart felt like it was going to burst with joy at (hopefully) having made a new friend.

He watched as she pulled her hand away from his and started her own trek towards the rooftop doors, her hair and skirt flowing behind her prettily as the gentle breeze picked up again.

Itaru called out to her before she left. “Uh. Izumi.”

She turned around, walking backwards this time.

“...I’m sure you’re doing so much more than you think.” He said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t want to say that he knew how hard she’d been working, so he was just going to leave her to wonder what he meant.

“If you need someone to talk to… I’ll be around.” Itaru coughed.

“Sure. I’d love to take you on that offer.” Izumi chuckled. She waved her hand goodbye and waited until Itaru waved back to exit the rooftop first, the sound of the wind blowing cut off by the shut of the door.

The cold atmosphere that filled the top floor of the school blanketed Izumi and she sighed at the loneliness of it all.

Maybe replacing the silence in her life with a friend wasn’t such a bad idea.

[flowerfan2]

Chapter 9 - David and Patrick open up some boxes and have a difficult discussion.

Summary:  Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him. After a rom-com worthy reunion, David decides he won't walk away again.

Read this chapter here; read from the beginning on A03 here.  TW:  this chapter contains discussion of depression and past suicidal thoughts.

******

The next morning it’s still raining, and between that and the scrapes on his knees David decides that he’s not going out for a run.  He can skip a day when he has to, at least now when his anxiety has relaxed the steel grip it used to have on him.  

The gray light peeking through the blinds makes the room feel cozy, and David wiggles a bit under the covers, letting himself enjoy the rare opportunity to sleep in.  Of course, it wouldn’t be the same at all without Patrick lying next to him, curled up against David’s side and snoring softly.

David cups his hand around the curve of Patrick’s arm, his fingers tucking under the edge of his t-shirt.  Patrick snuffles adorably and strokes his palm down David’s chest.  David can tell the moment when Patrick wakes up enough to remember just where he is, and where they are, and his hand stills.

David lays his hand gently over Patrick’s, twining their fingers together and pressing it against his chest.  It’s okay, he thinks to himself, and to Patrick.  We’re okay.

“Do you remember when we slept on that air mattress?” David asks, the memory coming to him unbidden, something about the act of Patrick waking up a little bit confused prompting it into his brain.

“Hmm, yeah,” Patrick says after a moment, his voice quiet against David’s shoulder.  “The first night in my new apartment, before all the furniture came.  It squeaked.”

“I woke up every time you turned over,” David says.  “And every time, you put your arm back over me and kissed me right through my complaints.”

Patrick blinks his eyes open and gazes at David.  “You seemed to like it well enough at the time.”

David hides his smile against Patrick’s arm.  “I did.”

Patrick snorts.  “Tell me you didn’t do it on purpose.”

David gasps, mockingly affronted.  “I would never.”

“Sure.”

“At least, not the first few times.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, David rubbing his thumb along the back of Patrick’s hand as they listen to the rain coming down outside the window.  Every once in a while there’s a far off rumble of thunder.  David feels like he’s in a little cocoon, safe indoors with Patrick.

“We were really good together, weren’t we?” Patrick asks, unable to keep a twinge of sadness out of his words.

“We were,” David says, shifting so that he can look at Patrick.  “And we are.”

Patrick stares at him then, then nods and tucks his face into the crook of David’s neck, his hand grasping tighter at David’s.  David marvels at himself, that he didn’t say “we will be” or some other hopeful statement of future possibility.  He’s not sure where this confidence has come from, but he clings to it like Alexis to a Prada bag.

It’s not that he thinks it will be easy, merging their lives back together.  But he really thinks they can.  They already are.  

David hadn’t been sure about offering to stay longer here with Patrick.  At first he had been waiting for Patrick to ask him; he thought it wouldn’t be right to raise it himself.  After all, David was the one that insisted on coming with Patrick, back at the airport when he realized that Patrick was headed to Florida and not to Toronto.  He didn’t want to push himself onto Patrick again.  He wasn’t certain that his continued presence would be wanted.

But then after a few days together it became clear to David that Patrick was no longer the take-charge guy he used to be, at least not right now.  Patrick is hurting, and his self-confidence has taken a beating.  He didn’t seem likely to go out on a limb and risk further damage, a concept that David is all too familiar with.  So David called in a favor with his assistant, and asked him to send down some of his favorite warm weather clothes, just in case.

He couldn’t be more pleased with how it turned out, Patrick so clearly happy that David isn’t going home yet.  And it’s true that David can work remotely, at least for a while.  It helps that his boss (ie, his dad) is so invested in the reason David wants to stay in Florida.  He’s lucky that Johnny didn’t suggest opening up a satellite office on Patrick’s lanai.

“I’ve never been to therapy,” Patrick says tentatively, pulling David out of his thoughts.  “What was it like?”  

David almost comments on the non sequitur, then decides it really isn’t one.  They need to be able to talk about what each of them have been through these past few years, and if this is Patrick’s way of asking about David, when they’re curled up together under the covers on a rainy morning, he’s not going to question it. It’s not a topic with a natural segue.

“Well, it wasn’t my first rodeo, you know.”  He’s about to launch into something humorous, making light of his adolescent struggles, but then he changes course.  Patrick is asking seriously, and he deserves a serious answer.  He’s fortunate that his latest experience with therapy went as well as it did.  “A lot depends on whether you have the right therapist, someone who can push you enough to make progress without making you so pissed off that you stop going.”

“That makes sense.”

“Luckily this time around I did have someone good, on the first try even.  A woman in Toronto.  I thought I’d hate her at first, she was young and had too many piercings…”

“A therapist with piercings?”

“I know, not the sterotype, right?  And she had this one in her eyebrow, it was not a good look for her… but she’s good for me.”

Patrick shifts against David, and David knows without looking at him that he’s got a little frown on his forehead, that’s he’s thinking too much about his next question.  “Do you still talk to her?”

“I do.  Not on a regular schedule, but every few weeks or month or so, when I have something I want to talk about, or just to check in.”

“Have you talked to her about me? I mean, now?”

<i>Have I ever,</i> David thinks.  “Yes.  And before you ask, she won’t exactly say whether she thinks it’s a good idea or not, but I think she’s secretly shipping us pretty hard.”

Patrick laughs, and David turns towards him, capturing his mouth in a light, silly kiss.  

“I’m glad she approves,” Patrick says, a waver in his voice.

David wants to reassure him, to tell him that everyone does, but he knows it’s not that simple.  “It’s not as if Alexis <i>disapproves,</i>” he says.  

“She’s just worried for you,” Patrick fills in.

“Yeah.”  That’s an understatement.  “It, um, it wasn’t good, for me, right after we broke up.  And she was there for all of that, so.”

Patrick reaches over and pushes a strand of hair off David’s face, his fingers lingering on his cheek and then resting back on David’s chest.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

David’s heart suddenly races, and he wonders if Patrick can feel it.  He has known that this moment was coming, that he has to tell Patrick what happened.  And he knows, he really does, that Patrick won’t judge.  Patrick has been open with him, and David needs to do the same.  Keeping things in boxes never worked for them, not in the long run, and it won’t work now either.  But no matter how reasonable it seems, David has still been dreading it.

“Yeah,” David says.  “Okay.”  Patrick shifts closer, and slides his free arm around David, so that David is surrounded by him, Patrick up against his back and breathing softly against his neck.  He almost cries, before he even gets started, at this signal from Patrick that he’s loved.

He gives himself a moment to take it in, the fact that he’s going to be telling this story but with Patrick’s arms wrapped around him, and begins.  “So, not long after we broke up, one of my mom’s castmates from Sunrise Bay let us use their house in the Hamptons for a while.  I don’t know if you’ve ever been, but the summers are pretty much non-stop parties out there, all the rich and famous celebrities and wanna-be’s blowing off steam and abusing every substance they can get their hands on.  It was easy to join in, and slip back into some bad habits.”

Patrick nods his head against David’s shoulder, letting David know he’s listening.

“One night at a party, after far too many drinks and a particularly embarrassing social interaction with Neil Patrick Harris’ stylist – who is not as cute as he thinks he is -  I decided I was going to leave.  On the way back to the house I got into an accident with a driver that was even drunker than I was.”

Patrick holds David tighter, but David just takes a deep breath and goes on.  It’s not going to get any easier.

“I broke my collarbone, which wasn’t any fun at all.”  He can feel Patrick tensing next to him.

“Was the other driver…?”

“Totally uninjured, which was a fucking miracle, given how our cars looked.”

“Oh David,” Patrick says, his voice tight.  “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it was all me, no apology necessary.”

“Still, I’m sorry that happened to you.  That must have been so scary.”  Patrick squeezes David’s hand.  “Was that why you stopped drinking?”

David feels his heart start to pound its way up towards his throat.  “No, not exactly.”  He takes a deep breath, and turns over to face Patrick.  It feels wrong to have this conversation without looking at him.  Whatever he finds there, he can’t afford to miss it.  He needs to see Patrick there in front of him, even if the concern in Patrick’s eyes is almost too much to take.  It’s better than the alternative.

He takes another deep breath, steadying himself, and begins the rest of the story.  “When I left the party, I knew I couldn’t drive home safely, but I went anyway.  Alexis caught me on the way out, begged me to wait until she called an Uber, but I didn’t listen.  I actually had scratches on my forearm from her nails, where she tried to stop me.”  David pauses for a moment, blinking away the memory of Alexis’ face as he pulled away.  “I got in the car and sped out of there.  And… I wasn’t drunkenly convinced I’d be fine, it wasn’t an error of judgement.  I knew I was too drunk to drive, and I did it anyway.  It felt good.  It felt… freeing.”

David sees Patrick’s eyes fill with tears as he realizes what David is saying, and he hates himself for doing this to Patrick, just as he did it to his family.

“That’s what really scared me.”  He tries to laugh, letting out something more like a sob.  “I wouldn’t have thought the Rose family could have any more together time than we did when we lived in the motel, but it turns out I was wrong.  My parents moved me into their place in Toronto, we found the good therapist, and I decided alcohol was not my friend.  It was months before I moved out into my own apartment.”

Patrick is crying freely now, tears silently streaming down his cheeks.  David wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close.

“I’m sorry,” David says.  “I didn’t want to tell you, but-”

“Oh god, David,” Patrick says, interrupting him.  “Don’t apologize, oh my god, if you had – thank god you didn’t-”

“I’m okay now,” David tries to reassure him, knowing that it isn’t that easy.  It took months for Alexis to stop texting him every few hours, thinking that if she kept tabs on him she could keep it from happening again.  “I am, I promise.  I haven’t felt that way since that night, not even for a minute.”

“Did you – did you really want to kill yourself?”

David has asked himself this question and tried to answer it a million times.  “I think it was more like I was indifferent to it,” David says, which is what feels most like the truth.  “I didn’t have a plan.  I wasn’t going to drive into a tree or off a bridge.  I just kind of didn’t care.”

Patrick suddenly sits up and pulls David up with him, until they are looking at each other straight in the eye.  “David, you bring light into so many people’s lives.  Into mine.  You’ve made me happier than anyone ever has, you’ve given me the best moments of my life.  You’re creative, and sexy, and gorgeous…” He stops for breath, and David gives him a sideways smile.

“Still not <i>nice,</i> though?”

Patrick freezes, then huffs out a laugh.  “You asshole.”

David bites his lip.  “I’m sorry, I’ve heard a lot of speeches over the past few years, and it’s not as if I don’t appreciate it, but…”

“But it doesn’t matter.”

“Not when you feel the way I felt.  It’s depression, it’s your brain.  No one telling you that you’re awesome can really fix it.”  There’s a look on Patrick’s face that makes David think that maybe this is ringing a bell for Patrick, and he resolves to go back and revisit it.  There’s a part of him that hopes that talking to Patrick about his own experience would maybe prompt Patrick to think about his own troubles, but he needs to let Patrick bring it up himself.  Anyway, this conversation isn’t about Patrick, it’s about David, and he has to see it through.  “I’m okay now, I really am,” David says.  

Patrick grabs his arms, squeezing his biceps tight.  “I’m so glad,” Patrick says, “god, more than glad, David…” He blows out an unsteady breath, his eyes flickering away and then back to David before asking, hesitantly, “But you still talk to your therapist.  It can come back?”

And there it is, the fucking irony of it all.  “Yeah, well, like I said, this wasn’t the first time.”  David leans his head back and blinks at the ceiling fan.  “Damaged goods.”

Patrick sweeps him into a crushing embrace, one hand holding David’s head tight against his own.  “I’m not going anywhere, David, and I’m not letting you go, either.  Not this time.  I don’t care how miserable you feel – I mean, I care, I don’t want you to be miserable-” Patrick takes a quick breath – “but I’ll still be here, no matter what happens.  You won’t chase me away.  I’m never letting go of you.”

It’s then, at the end of this whole agonizing conversation, that David finally loses his composure, ugly sobs bursting out of him as he and Patrick cling to each other.  He’s not sure how long it goes on.  Patrick holds him as he shakes and cries, and whispers reassurances that are pointless but still feel pathetically wonderful.

Finally it subsides, and David finds himself curled up on Patrick’s chest, Patrick stroking his hand up and down his back.  He raises himself up on an elbow, and presses his lips together as Patrick wipes his cheeks with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Well, that was a pleasant way to start the day, wasn’t it?”  David manages.

David watches as Patrick stares at him, searching his face, and then apparently comes to some kind of decision, some Patrick-inspired solution to this emotionally torturous pothole.  “We need pancakes,” Patrick says, sitting up and pushing David to do the same.

David stares at him.  “I like pancakes,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I know.”  Patrick slides out of bed.  “And we’re not eating them here.  We’re going out.”

“It’s raining.”

“You won’t melt.”

David feels a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.  “I might.”

“Well then at least you’ll have pancakes first.  Get up and get dressed, we’re leaving in twenty minutes.

It’s a welcome escape from the drama of the morning’s conversation, and not only that, a glimpse of the Patrick Brewer David remembers so well, cocky and sure of himself.  It’s perfect.

“Give me thirty, and you have a deal.”

The little diner that Patrick takes them to is cute enough, and the pancakes are tasty, but David can’t seem to settle down.  It feels like Patrick is looking at him differently, like he’s fragile, and David hates it.  He stares at Patrick, sitting across from him in a booth that is nothing like Café Tropical and yet so familiar, until he can’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

“I’m really okay,” David says, interrupting an endless story about how Marcy always orders a veggie omelet with no cheese and egg whites but then gets a giant cinnamon roll along with it, and Patrick pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Okay…” Patrick says, his eyes finding David’s.  

“You keep talking about random stuff but I know you’re thinking about something else.  About me, about what I told you.”

Patrick’s face shifts into a half-hearted smirk.  “It’s not always about you, David.”

“Mmmhm.  Then what’s going on?”

Patrick sets his fork down, and suddenly David wishes he hadn’t asked, because Patrick looks nervous, and that can’t mean anything good.  Has he changed his mind and realized that David really is too much to deal with?  Did he finally succeed in frightening him away?

“What you told me actually gave me a lot of hope,” Patrick says slowly.  “That you were – depressed-” he hesitates over the word, but gets it out.  “But now you feel better.”

“It’s been up and down, but mostly up, lately,” David babbles, not sure what else to say.

“I think I was,” Patrick says, looking down at his plate.  “Depressed.  Am still, maybe.  Although it’s been better, recently… something’s still wrong.  I think I need help shaking it off.”

It hits him like a blow to the chest.  It has been obvious that Patrick hasn’t been himself, the way Patrick had described losing his job, and what led to going out with Jamie the night of his attack, but it still hurts to hear Patrick say it.  It’s not something that David would wish on anyone.

David knows Patrick didn’t grow up with therapy on Wednesday afternoons in between piano lessons and baseball, and until today, he doesn’t think they ever really had a serious conversation about it.  And he’s fairly certain that Patrick considered David’s history with mental health issues to be something that only happened to people not named Brewer.  

He reaches across the table and finds Patrick’s hand where he’s clutching his napkin.  “This can be a very difficult thing to talk about,” he says.  “I’m proud of you for saying it.  I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.  We can find you a therapist, a good one.”

“One with piercings?”

“Maybe even a sleeve tattoo.”  

Patrick manages a weak grin.  He knows David’s feelings on permanently marring your skin.  But then his smile fades.  “I hate that you’re so familiar with all of this.”

“Well, if it can help you at all, at least my experience can be good for something.”

Patrick shakes his head.  “Oh my god, this is the worst date ever.”

“Was this a date?  But I didn’t bring Stevie.”  David can’t help bringing that up, it’s too perfect.  And as planned, it makes Patrick laugh so hard he snorts, and has to shove his napkin over his mouth.  

“Shut up.  I suck at first dates, I get it.”

“Nope.”  David gets up and slides around the table, sitting next to Patrick on the bench and draping his arms around his shoulders.  “You don’t suck at it.  You got us here, both times, and that’s what matters.  You are relentlessly persistent when you put your mind to it.  You can get through this, Patrick, you can.”

Patrick laces his arms around David’s waist and they sit there for a long moment, squished in between the back of the booth and the table, David rubbing the back of Patrick’s head and trying to ignore the fact that the elbow of his sweater is probably getting in the questionable syrup Patrick soaked his pancakes in.

“Is it wrong for me to wish that you could hug this out of me?”  Patrick says into David’s neck.  “I mean, it couldn’t be that easy, could it?  You make me so happy.  I’ve been happier this week than I have been in three years.  Just stay right here.  Don’t let go.”

David shrugs, smiling against Patrick’s head and pulling him tighter against him.  “What do I know, I’m not a therapist.  We can try it.  But at some point, they’re gonna make us leave this booth.”  

[spencers-renaissance]

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.15

if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own

Chapter Fourteen

This is the fifteenth chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Last Chapter: Derek & Emily called Spencer for a consult, and with him off his antidepressants, things very quickly fell apart.

In This Chapter: Hotch & Penelope pick up the pieces.

tw: depression-related exhaustion, disordered thinking, reference to last chapter's breakdown, discussion of medication

Word Count: 4K

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

(Quick Note: A couple of chapters ago I referred to Spencer's psychiatrist by she/her pronouns, but I forgot that I assigned that character he/him pronouns wayyy back, so I've decided to go with that one. I just wanted to address that in case anyone else caught it like I did! I apologise for the mistake & any confusion it might have caused.)

AARON

"Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own." — Tyler Knott Gregson

Aaron doesn’t fall asleep until well into the small hours of the morning, finally lulled into a cold dreamless sleep once he’s cried himself out. He keeps as quiet as he can, but he knows he won’t wake Spencer up anyway: he’s completely exhausted, and he’s out cold. It’s a small consolation, but he tries to take a small bit of comfort in knowing that his boyfriend is at least getting the rest he needs.

He wakes up only a couple of hours after he falls asleep, and despite feeling completely exhausted, he sets about the things he needs to do. The first thing he does is call Strauss to request a family day — thankfully, the bureau’s been a lot more understanding of his situation since Haley died — before texting Derek and telling him that he needs to take charge of the team if they get sent on a case. Then he calls Jess and asks if she can collect Jack from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him until the evening.

With the technicalities sorted out, he makes a phone call to Spencer's psychiatrist. At this point, if he has to drag him kicking and screaming, if Spencer never talks to him again, if it calls an irreparable rift in their relationship, it won’t get in the way of him getting Spencer the help he needs. After an emergency appointment for 11am is booked, he collapses onto the sofa and calls Penelope.

“Hotch? It’s not even 7am, is everything alright?”

Just hearing her voice, hearing someone ask if he’s okay, is enough to push him over the edge. “No,” he admits into the phone, not even trying to disguise the emotion in his voice.

“I’m on my way,” she says immediately, and he can hear a flurry of activity start up on the other end of the line. “What’s happened, Hotch?”

He breathes out shakily, running a hand down his face. The early morning sun, the bustling city below him, the bright apartment all seems so contrary to the current situation. “Spencer hit a breaking point last night,” he says shakily, unsure exactly how to word it. “Derek and Emily called him to consult on a case, and they were as brisk and focused as we all are when we’re working, but he’s out of practice; he’s not used to that way of doing things anymore. It triggered him and sent him into what I’m gonna guess was a panic attack? But honestly, Penelope… it looked like a breakdown.”

“Oh God,” she says quietly, and the sound of her exiting her apartment reassures Aaron a little.

“I had no idea how to handle it,” he says, dissolving into tears. “He locked himself in the bathroom and was literally tearing his hair out… there were clumps of hair all over the floor. He was screaming at me to leave, telling me he wasn’t good enough that he forgot his place? I had no idea what he was saying—”

Penelope interrupts him. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Well, when I first found out about his depression, Spencer told me something about how he didn’t feel like he was good for anything except his brain and IQ, you know? He said that he wasn’t cut out for friendships or relationships and I’m pretty sure he called that his ‘place’. It’s stuck with me because of just how awful it sounded.”

“Fuck,” Aaron mutters, sniffing as a fresh wave of tears come to his eyes. “So Emily and Derek consulting him for their case triggered those thoughts again.”

“Sounds like it,” she agrees. “They’re gonna feel so guilty.”

Aaron knows she’s in a tricky situation: her girlfriend and close friend sending her best friend into a near-breakdown, and for a brief minute he feels guilty for roping her in before reminding himself that she wouldn’t be anywhere else if Spencer needed her.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do about that,” he sighs. “I thought about not telling them, because Spencer doesn’t need everyone knowing about every step of his recovery; it’s personal, right? But more secrets between everyone… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like a good idea. Especially not for something this serious.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Penelope promises. “Look, I’m in my car now. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”

He sighs in relief. “Thanks, Penelope.”

They hang up and he drops his phone next to him before staring up at the ceiling for a minute, rubbing his temples. Forcing himself off the sofa, he considers putting the coffee machine on but he doesn’t want the sound of the bean grinder to wake Spencer up, so he settles for a cup of instant coffee instead, putting a slice of bread in the toaster as well.

By the time he’s finished his second slice, Penelope’s letting herself in.

“He’s still asleep?”

He nods, watching as she dumps her handbag on the armchair and walks further into the apartment. It’s always strange seeing her without her usual colourful outfits and makeup on, and although he’s gotten used to it in the past year as they’ve rallied around Spencer, sometimes it still reminds him of seeing her in her casual clothes for the first time when she got shot a couple of years ago.

“I’m just gonna grab some breakfast and a tea,” she says quietly, helping herself to everything in the kitchen as she always does. “You go and sit down, I’ll be over in a minute and we can discuss a game plan.”

He obeys, closing his eyes against the headache coming on, but it’s only a couple of minutes before Penelope’s sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea and a slice of marmalade toast.

“Right, the first thing we need to tackle is convincing him to get back on his meds,” Penelope says seriously, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Spencer up.

He nods. “I know. I’ve made an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist for 11am, it’s just a case of a) getting him there and b) making him listen to him.”

“The problem is that he sees going back on medication as admitting defeat or failing at recovery. We need to have a really honest, frank conversation with him about it, but I just don’t know how we’re gonna get him to believe us.”

“Maybe we should use our own experiences? He doesn’t think any less of me or think I’m weak when I take pain medication when my injuries flare up. He wouldn’t think any less of you for accepting pain meds throughout your recovery after you were shot. He doesn’t think less of his mother because she relies on psychiatric medication.”

Penelope nods. “He has a twisted perception of himself. One rule for himself, another for everyone else.”

Something about her words makes Aaron feel suddenly, desperately sad. He’s always been sad for Spencer and what he’s gone through, and he’s been crying most of the night, but the realisation, the reassertion, of just how much Spencer hates himself, what his brain’s put him through over the last two years cuts deep, winding him.

“I just wish he could see himself the way we see him,” he says sadly, another tear spilling down his cheek, as though he has anything left to give.

Penelope’s expression tells him she feels the same.

Hotch goes in to check on Spencer as the clock approaches nine, and his heart breaks for the thousandth time when he finds him staring listlessly at the wall again.

“Morning, baby,” he says gently, making his way into the room.

Thankfully, it grabs Spencer’s attention, and he turns to look at him, misery and self-loathing written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he holds eye contact with Aaron long enough for him to understand that it’s okay for him to be there, and he makes his way further into the room, climbing onto the bed. He’s not expecting Spencer to immediately latch onto him, burying his face in his t-shirt as he clings to him like he’s going somewhere, but that’s exactly what happens.

“Penelope’s in the living room,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Spencer’s hair. There’s no expectation for him to reply, so he lets the words settle over them as they lay quietly together; the calm after the storm. Aaron hopes it won’t double as the before as well.

After a good couple of minutes, Spencer shifts, and Aaron follows his lead as they shuffle out of the bedroom towards Penelope’s contemplative perch on the sofa. Spencer heads straight towards her, curling into her side and drawing the warm comfort Penelope always has to offer.

“Oh, baby genius,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay. We love you so much.”

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer immediately withdraws, curling in on himself as he starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, Spencer,” Aaron soothes calmly as he rushes over to his side, “what’s going on?”

Penelope starts to apologise but Aaron shakes his head and she settles for resting a gentle hand on his side instead.

“Can you tell us what’s wrong, Spencer?” Aaron asks, a knot forming in his stomach as he hopes against hope that this won’t turn into a repeat of last night. “We can’t help you unless you talk to us.”

Spencer takes a ragged breath in, turning his face slightly towards Aaron’s direction, and his chest clenches at the bags under his sore, red eyes; his pallid skin. “I’m sorry,” he says shakily, wiping at the tears on his face.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spencer. You just need to tell us how we can help you,” Penelope says gently, her hand rubbing small, consoling circles on his side.

Spencer meets his eyes, his face crumpling as he does and Aaron, in that moment, is reminded distinctly of a star collapsing in on itself. Spencer heaves a painful sob as two more tears spill down his cheeks. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

The admission seems obvious at surface level, but the magnitude of such a statement isn’t lost on either Aaron nor Penelope.

Aaron sighs sadly. “Come here, baby.” Spencer falls gladly into Aaron’s embrace, sobbing dejectedly into his shoulder, sounding so tired and defeated that it’s painful to listen to.

Once he’s finished crying himself out, Aaron and Penelope switch places, Aaron moving to sit on the sofa with Spencer propped up against him and Penelope settling into the armchair.

He approaches his next words carefully. “I’ve made an appointment for you to see Dr Parker at 11am. Penelope and I will take you, and we both think that you should talk to him about going back on the venlafaxine.”

To his surprise Spencer just nods tiredly, no longer crying and instead resuming his blank staring.

“And we also think you should consider talking to Derek and Emily about what happened yesterday,” Penelope suggests quietly, an encouraging expression on her face.

Spencer looks up at her, emotions flying across his face as he processes her words and how he feels about them. Briefly, he looks like he’s about to argue, about to shout or get mad, but he quickly deflates. “They’ll feel guilty,” he says miserably. “Not their fault.”

“Your relationships with everyone have come a long way, Spencer, and that’s great. But everyone is still fragile and affected by everything that’s happened in the past year, and keeping secrets like these is only going to hurt everyone more.”

Spencer’s still and silent for a moment before he nods reluctantly.

“I think that maybe,” Aaron ventures cautiously, “you should avoid doing any consulting work for a while. It’s clearly damaging for you and is always going to come with potential triggers, and when you’re already feeling sad and vulnerable, it’s really just a catalyst for an event like yesterday evening.”

Spencer nods at that, too, and Aaron wishes he could take his acquiescence as a win, but he knows it’s coming from a place of defeat and despair, and he’ll never take any consolation in that.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Aaron says. “We have about an hour until we need to leave, so why don’t we get you some food, get you into the shower, and then you can rest for any left over time? Does that sound okay?”

At Spencer’s agreement, Penelope heads to the kitchen to whip him up something a bit more nutritious than the toast they both settled for, while Aaron takes him to the bathroom to wash up.

“Are you alright on your own?” he asks as he sets the shower up for him, Spencer perching on the edge of the bath as he waits.

Instead of answering his question though, panic suddenly crosses Spencer’s face and he looks at Aaron urgently. “Jack!”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says soothingly. “Jess is gonna pick him up from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him for the afternoon. I’ve taken a personal day and unless a case comes in, Penelope will be here for as long as we need her. Everything’s in hand.”

“But it’s Jack’s spring break! You should be spending time with him, not herding me into the shower—”

At the first sign of tears, Aaron is quick to step in, reassuring him as best he can. “Hey, I will spend time with him, alright? He was already going to be with Sam all morning, and he’ll be dropped off before dinner, so Jess is only going to have him for a couple of hours. And if you’re feeling well enough once we get back from the doctor’s, then he can come home early, but right now, your health is the most important thing we need to deal with, you hear me?”

Spencer nods reluctantly, but he can tell that the thought of cutting into Aaron’s time with Jack is only fuelling his self-loathing. Having to accept that there’s nothing he can do about that, he makes sure he’s okay in the shower before heading out into the kitchen to find Penelope.

“I can’t tell if that went well or not,” she says quietly, not looking up from the frying pan currently cooking eggs and bacon.

Aaron sighs, leaning against the counter top, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. “I think it went about as well as it could.”

“I texted Emily and Derek, and they’re going to pop over this afternoon if we don’t get a case,” she says. “If Spencer’s not up for it, we can rearrange, but I thought it was better to be prepared.”

“No, you’re right, thank you for doing that, Penelope. What would I do without you?”

“Aw, stop it, bossman,” she says, grinning as she nudges him playfully.

He smiles. “I mean it.”

“I know. But I’m happy to help you guys out. I’d do anything for Spencer, and I know he’d do anything for me.”

“Without a doubt.”

Spencer emerges from the bathroom a few moments later, clad in a white t-shirt and some tracksuit bottoms Aaron is pretty sure are both actually his, damp curly hair a mess on his head. He can’t help but smile despite himself; his boyfriend looking so damn cute will always be a small pick-me-up on even the worst of days.

“Penelope’s cooked up a storm for you,” he says as brightly as the situation allows, guiding him to the sofa and tucking him in with a couple of blankets to get him as comfortable as possible.

He gets a small smile at that, and a murmured ‘thank you’ when Penelope brings him over a plate of bacon and eggs, arranged as perfectly as he’d expect with Penelope serving as cook.

He flicks the TV to the discovery channel, managing to catch the beginning of a documentary on big cats, and he counts it as a win when it catches Spencer’s attention, hoping it takes his mind off the pain he’s feeling just a little bit.

They spend the next forty minutes watching documentaries with Spencer before Penelope notices the time and begins herding them out the door towards the parking garage.

“No way,” Aaron laughs as she heads towards her car.

“What?”

“You are not driving, Penelope,” he says, laughing even more at her incredulous reaction. “I’ve seen you; you drive like a maniac. We’re taking my car.”

She pouts. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Does this mean I have to sit in the back, too?”

He just levels her with a look that has her sighing dramatically and flinging herself into the backseat, but when he looks over at Spencer and sees a smile on his face, he’s suddenly even more thankful for Penelope.

They sit in the waiting room while Spencer has his appointment and try desperately not to make each other more anxious than they already feel. Penelope flicks through fashion magazines at a pace that tells Aaron she’s not reading a single word, and Aaron reads over and over the case notes he’d bought with him to pass the time, no more going in the second, third, eleventh time than it did the first.

Finally, though, Spencer emerges from Dr Parker’s office with a script in hand and they both sigh a small breath of relief at the idea that he’s finally getting the help he’s been needing so badly.

“Okay, baby?” he murmurs as Spencer reaches for his hand on the way out of the psychiatrist’s office, and something loosens in his chest when Spencer nods and smiles, looking happier and more relaxed than he has in weeks.

Derek and Emily come over just after lunchtime, and Penelope gets up to open the door for them, Spencer and Aaron not moving from their position on the couch, Spencer resting his head in Aaron’s lap as one of his favourite sci-fi movies is playing on the TV.

When he sees who it is, though, Spencer moves to sit up slightly, still keeping himself folded into Aaron’s side.

“Hey, Spence,” Emily says softly, taking a seat in the armchair while Penelope comes over to perch on the arm, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend, “what’s this about?”

Both Emily and Derek look confused enough that Aaron knows Spencer will be able to tell that neither he nor Penelope told them what happened last night, willing to give him a last minute out if that’s what he needs, as well as full control over the narrative.

Derek comes over to the sofa and sits next to Spencer, keeping enough distance between them to keep Spencer comfortable, though he still rests a warm hand on his ankle. “What’s going on? You can tell us anything, pretty boy, you know that.”

Spencer looks to Aaron, and the expression on his face conveys what he needs immediately.

“Yesterday, your consult with Spencer on the methanol poisoning case triggered an… event,” he explains, trying to choose his words carefully. He wants to tell the truth, but he also doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming Derek and Emily or use language Spencer wouldn’t be happy with. “It was a breaking point of sorts and as such, he decided to go back on his medication.”

Relief tied up with confusion are the first emotions he watches play over Emily and Derek’s faces. Everyone’s been hoping Spencer will return to his medication, but he knows they’ll want more information as to what exactly happened and why they’ve been asked over.

“An event?” Emily asks, sounding a little hesitant.

Before Aaron can answer, Spencer speaks up, his voice a little tired and croaky but convicted nonetheless. “It was a breakdown,” he says plainly, not sugar-coating his words. “I was in a bad place already and I was out of practice with what a time sensitive case entails, and it sent me into a tailspin. It reminded me of all the feelings that working in the BAU caused that year, and I couldn’t handle it. I lashed out at Aaron and…”

“The details don’t matter,” Aaron rescues his tailed off sentence. “The fact is we thought that more secrets were only going to make things worse in the long run, and you needed to understand what happened last night since Spencer going back on his meds was bound to raise questions anyway.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer interjects, his voice anxious and urgent. “It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the way of the BAU and if I’d been on my medication like I should’ve been in the first place it wouldn’t have been a problem, it was just a horrible medley of circumstances. But I’ve decided that I won’t be doing any consults for a while until I can get my head on straight again. It may be that I’m never able to do them without being triggered, but we’re going to play it by ear.”

Aaron smiles at him proudly, kissing the top of his head as soon as he buries back in for a cuddle.

“Oh, Spence,” Emily sighs sadly. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t even think. We were so caught up in the case we didn’t even stop to consider you and how you’d interpret things.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says again, this time from his place on Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry that it had to be you guys that triggered the breaking point.”

“We should’ve been more considerate,” Derek says firmly, his expression filled with regret. “The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel the way I did last year, and even though other circumstances contributed to what happened last night, we still failed you, kid, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, seriously. In a way, I’m glad it happened. Something had to give, and I’m glad that I can look forward to finally feeling normal again. I talked to my psychiatrist this morning and even though… it still feels a little bit like giving up, I feel better about it. And we’re gonna work on my attitude to medication in the next couple of sessions until I feel more comfortable about it.”

Aaron knows how much Spencer hates talking about his recovery, so it feels like a big step for him to be so personal and vulnerable in front of four different people, even if they are all virtually his family at this point.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer,” Emily says earnestly, and even though Aaron can tell she still feels guilty, at least it’s no longer the most dominant emotion on her face.

“Me too, kid. You’ve been through hell and back and we’re all so proud of you for getting to where you are.”

Spencer smiles gratefully, but Aaron can tell he’s exhausted from the events of the morning, so he sends a look to Penelope and she shows Emily and Derek out, but not before giving Emily a kiss and being teased by Derek for it.

“Right, baby,” he says as the apartment quietens and it’s just the three of them left. “I think you could do with a nap, don’t you?”

“Don’t wanna leave you,” Spencer mumbles tiredly, clinging to his t-shirt.

“Well how about I come and sit with you while you sleep, yeah? You go and get tucked in and I’ll be in in a minute, I promise.”

“You better.” It’s not much, but it’s the closest to teasing Spencer’s come in weeks, and he’ll absolutely take it.

He gives Penelope a warm hug and disappears into the bedroom.

“Looks like I can leave you to it,” Penelope says quietly as soon as the door’s closed behind him.

Aaron looks at her seriously, before wrapping her in a rare hug. “Thank you for today. I mean it. I don’t know what we would’ve done this past year without you, Penelope, but we sure as hell wouldn’t be where we are now. I’m always gonna be thankful that Spencer has someone as wonderful as you to call a best friend.”

“Hotch,” she says tearily, “I love you both so much. You don’t have to thank me, but it means a lot that you did.”

He smiles at her. “You should go back to the BAU. Go and find Derek and Emily who are no doubt beating themselves up and tell them they’re being ridiculous.”

She gives him a mock salute as she smiles back. “You got it, boss.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted,” she says as she gathers the last of her things and heads to the door. “Let me know how he’s doing tonight and I’ll pop round after work to see him tomorrow, okay?”

“Perfect.”

As soon as she’s gone, he climbs into bed with Spencer and wraps him up in his arms, feeling — for the first time in weeks — a distinct conviction that everything is going to be okay.

Chapter Sixteen

Soooo, we don't hate me anymore? I really enjoyed writing this part of the fic, I'm such a sucker for third act angst and the resolution is always so satisfying to me, so I hope I managed to give you guys the same feeling. Only one more chapter to go, and then we're done wtf, how did that happen? I can't wait for you to all read the happy lil ending I wrote for you! See you next Saturday, for the very last time :( If this chapter has brought anything up for you and you're feeling unsafe please check out this link <3

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