#my mom has the tv on and i just had to clean vomit and i hate vomit and i had to give leia a bath and she is not well trained | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

handful0fteeth · 2 years ago

Text

friends don’t lie

words: 4.5k

summary: dustin has been hiding a big secret after the battle with vecna

warnings: angst, hurt + comfort, description of injuries, mild descriptions of gore, vomiting, mention of abusive parent, fix-it fic, non-canon compliant, major stranger things 4 vol. 2 spoilers

rating: pg-14 Dustin sits on the steps of the high school, backpack leaned against his shins while he rests his face in his hands and cries. He’d been sitting with Wayne Munson for the last hour, alternating between resting a hand on his upper back while they both sobbed in silence, and trying to assure the bereaved man that if nothing else, he knew Eddie was innocent. He had always known, and nothing would ever change that. That he knew Eddie’s true heart, he knew he wasn’t capable of hurting anyone the way Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick were hurt. Wayne didn’t say anything; he just clutched Eddie’s pick necklace in his hand and cried. Dustin hopes that at least knowing one person would always be on Eddie’s side gives Wayne a modicum of comfort.

“Hey, kid.”

Dustin sniffles and sits up, wiping his puffy eyes even though he knows it’ll be evident to Steve, Robin, and Nancy that he’s been crying. Steve’s face is sympathetic as he sits next to Dustin on the stoop. Robin squats just behind them, and Nancy leans on the concrete banister. “How you holdin’ up?” Steve asks.

Dustin shrugs and shakes his head. “I told Mr. Munson.”

“I saw,” Steve says.

“It’s good that you told him,” Nancy chimes in, her voice gentle. “He deserves to hear it from you, not some shitty newspaper article or a TV reporter.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not like anyone else in this town is gonna be as nice about it as you were,” Robin says, resting a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “God knows if he stays here he’s gonna get bombarded with, like, people throwing rotten tomatoes at him or yelling about his nephew being some crazy Satanic murderer guy and -”

“Robin,” Nancy says sharply. Robin laughs nervously and squeezes Dustin’s shoulder.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Maybe that won’t happen at all, maybe they’ll just…yanno, leave him be.”

“I think people have bigger problems than Wayne Munson right now,” Steve says, eyes scanning the blackening skyline. Smoke billows from the pulsating cracks in the ground just beyond the school, filling the air with God knows what. The strange, swirling particles that have always denoted ending up in the Upside Down are floating down into the parking lot, collecting like fat motes of dust on the asphalt.

“You think we’re gonna get sick from breathing that stuff in?” Robin asks.

“Maybe. Maybe it’s better we get sick,” Nancy mumbles. “The alternative is dealing with Vecna and whatever he has planned.”

“What, more bats?” Steve scoffs. “I can take those shits in my - ow.”

Nancy kicks Steve sharply in the side, luckily not in the spot where his bat bites are still healing, and pointedly flickers her gaze at Dustin. His eyes are filled with tears again and locked on the ground in front of him. Steve rubs his tender skin and sighs, realizing his mistake.

“Sorry.”

Dustin had to tell them what had happened once he limped out of the gate inside Eddie’s trailer, alone. He told them about the horde of Demobats, about Eddie’s last words, and how he had to leave him there because he wasn’t strong enough to carry his body back. Steve had offered to go back and retrieve him, or to maybe see if they could take him to a hospital, anything that would give Dustin some semblance of peace, but by that point, the ground had already begun to melt apart, and they all needed to run to higher ground.

“We’re gonna head over to Hopper’s old cabin to help clean it out if you wanna come,” Nancy says, bobbing her head in the direction of the woods. Dustin shakes his head and stands abruptly, grabbing his bag and swinging it over one shoulder.

“I gotta go help my mom out,” he says, taking the steps very slowly so as to not agitate his leg injury. “She can’t find Tews and she’s been freaking out for the last couple of days. Maybe I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

“Dustin, are you…I mean, do you wanna talk about it?” Robin asks, standing up and following behind him.

“We’re here for you, bud,” Steve affirms, but Dustin doesn’t even turn around to look at him. He starts hobbling off across the parking lot, wincing every time he accidentally puts too much weight onto his bad leg. Nancy jogs after him, fingers already curled around her car keys.

“Dustin, hold on, I can drive you to your house -”

“I got it, Nance.”

“Dustin, c’mon, you live a few miles away from here and you’re still hurt, just let me -”

“Nancy, my leg’s not goddamned broken, I can walk home by myself,” Dustin snaps. He stops, pivoting on the spot to look at Nancy. Despite his annoyed tone, his blue eyes are full of sadness and pain, not anger. Nancy blinks, taken off-guard, and stops with her hand still in her pocket. There’s a moment where they all just stare at him, and eventually, Dustin uncomfortably readjusts his bag on his shoulder and sighs.

“Look, I’ll…I’ll call once I’m home, okay? I’ll leave a message on all of your machines so you know I’m back safe,” he says, voice decidedly softer. “I just…I wanna be alone for a little bit. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Nancy nods, forcing a half-smile onto her lips. It doesn’t escape Dustin’s notice that it doesn’t meet her eyes, but he just presses his mouth into a thin line and turns around again, shuffling away from the school while his friends watch.

~~~

“Friends don’t lie,” Dustin mutters to himself, waddling through the wet carpet of dead leaves and rotten vines that is the forest floor. Most of the trees in this area have been either completely uprooted and toppled onto their sides, or their roots have formed strange, almost claw-like formations above the damp soil. It’s as if they’re trying to rip themselves from the ground and go somewhere, anywhere but Hawkins. Dustin can’t say he blames them.

“Friends don’t lie. Friends don’t lie.”

It’s eerily quiet in the woods. Usually, there are at least faint, distant sounds to keep him company, but today the air is thick and heavy with an unnatural silence. There are no birds chirping above him, no critters crawling amongst his feet. He surmises every living thing that wasn’t melted and torn apart by the Mega Gate opening has fled to find a different, far more hospitable environment, just like so many human residents of Hawkins. Dustin sighs and hangs a left off the path he’s walking, venturing onto unmarked ground and struggling uphill.

Friends don’t lie, or at least they’re not supposed to. But what about when friends feel like they need to lie? What about when friends lie to protect their other friends? Is that any better? Dustin honestly doesn’t know, he just knows he feels like shit for lying to his friends in the first place.

After toiling upwards through the woods for another half hour, limping through dense patches of dead trees, over gnarled roots, and getting closer and closer to the meadows on the outskirts of Hawkins where the Mega Gate is belching out smoke, Dustin finally happens upon a small cave. It’s narrow, yet deep enough that sunlight doesn’t touch the back of it. The rounded top is covered in a substantial layer of moss and dead foliage, and a yellowy curtain of Spanish moss obstructs about half of the entrance. A tree that’s grown in bent at almost a ninety-degree angle looms to the left of the cave, its spindly branches reaching toward the rock. Dustin huffs and wipes the sweat from his brow, swinging his backpack off his shoulder and letting it thud against the cave wall.

“Hey,” he calls, “it’s just me.” Silence.

Oh, right. Dustin walks to the crooked tree and knocks his fist against the trunk in purposeful bursts.

S-A-F-E.

Dustin waits for a moment after he spells out the message in Morse code, listening intently. To his great relief, the same message echoes back to him, and the leaves inside the cave start to crunch.

“How’s the end of the world treating you, Henderson?” Eddie Munson asks, staggering slowly out of the mouth of the cave and pushing the Spanish moss aside with one hand. His hair is knotted and filthy, sticking to his forehead and cheeks in clumps, the skull bandana they’d acquired from the War Zone tied around his neck like a scarf. His Hellfire Club shirt hangs off his body in bloody tatters; the stomach is mostly gone, exposing the dingy fabric that’s keeping the chewed-up flesh of his torso pieced together. Despite his grungy appearance and the way that his smile is clearly hued by the amount of pain he’s still in, Dustin relaxes at the sight of his friend.

“Shitty. How’s it treating you?” he asks, sliding down the tree trunk so he can sit amongst its roots. Eddie rocks his head from side to side, shrugging one shoulder before sinking to the ground and grabbing Dustin’s bag. He unzips it, pulling out a hunk of tinfoil and greedily ripping it open to reveal a plain peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He takes a massive bite, and jelly smears across his cheeks.

“Never better,” he says, mouth full and smiling.

Dustin was certain Eddie had died in his arms in the Upside Down. The way his eyes glazed over, the way he fell limp against him - Dustin could’ve sworn he stopped breathing. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, amongst hundreds of Demobat corpses, the stench of blood and death all around him, sobbing freely into where he’d buried his face into Eddie’s hair. He couldn’t imagine moving from that spot and just leaving Eddie there. What would happen to him? Would he decompose like a normal dead body? Would he be assimilated into the hive mind, used like a horrifying puppet for Vecna’s grand plans? Would he end up just being bat food for a new horde? It was all too much, it was so much pain and grief all at once that he couldn’t do anything other than cradle Eddie and wish more than anything he could turn back the clock for him.

And then, Eddie coughed.

He coughed again. And again. And again. His eyes snapped back into focus, staring up at Dustin’s face in confusion and fear and clear agony as he coughed and choked, blood and saliva flecking onto Dustin’s cheeks.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, Eddie, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m right here, just breathe!” Dustin cried, but Eddie just kept spluttering. His body was so tense, it was like every muscle had flexed all at once, and the way his eyes kept moving back and forth in a panic quickly clued Dustin into the fact that he couldn’t move. He set Eddie down on the ground as gently as he could and rolled him onto his side, which allowed him to finally vomit up what had been choking him.

Blackish, viscous fluid poured from his mouth in seemingly unending bursts, and with every heave of his body he puked up more and more of the strange liquid. Dustin leaned over him and thumped on his back, hoping he was doing enough, hoping he didn’t get Eddie back just for him to aspirate on his foul vomit. Eventually, he spat out a final greyish glob and took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Eddie?”

“That…tasted like shit,” Eddie croaked. His head flopped back on his shoulder so he could look up at Dustin, and though his dark eyes were shining with tears, he grinned up at his friend, teeth slick with blood and black bile.

“Looks like I didn’t get my hero’s ending after all, huh?”

Dustin just sobbed and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, relieved and confused and elated all at once, squeezing him so hard Eddie hissed in pain through his wheezy laughter.

Though he could talk, and he could move his head around a little, the rest of his body was immobile. He could still feel everything, including the massive, oozing pile of shredded flesh that was once his torso, but his limbs were frozen in place. Dustin hypothesized that maybe the Demobats carried a sort of paralytic venom that was meant to temporarily disable their prey, and Steve was only able to avoid the debilitating effects because Robin, Nancy, and Eddie swooped in to save him before they could really dig in.

“Oh, so like Shelob?” Eddie laughed, very amused with his comparison of the murderous bats to the demonic spider in Lord of the Rings. “I did say I would follow you into Mordor, Henderson, but I didn’t think we’d get all the fixins’ to go along with it.”

Dustin was unsure of how long it was before Eddie could even twitch his fingers or roll his shoulders back, but at one point he was able to hoist himself out of Dustin’s lap and support himself on his arms. By then, Dustin had taken the fabric he’d draped over his head and used it as a tourniquet/bandage for Eddie’s stomach. When Eddie had enough strength to push himself up onto his knees, and hobble forward a little, Dustin handed him one of their makeshift spears, blade pointed at the ground, to use as a walking stick.

Together, they limped back to the gate in Eddie’s trailer, but before they flipped back into their Hawkins, they came up with their plan.

Eddie looks out at the towers of smog leaking from the angry red gashes in the earth just beyond where they’re sitting, chewing thoughtfully. “You think that’s gonna give a lot of people cancer?”

“Huh?”

“Well, that doesn’t look healthy, now does it?” Eddie asks, flapping his half-eaten sandwich in the direction of the meadow. “You think it’s gonna give people, like…demon-cancer? Vecna-sickness?”

“Maybe? I dunno, Ed, I’m a little more concerned with giant, nasty monsters coming up through the cracks to slurp our brains out through our noses, to be honest with you,” Dustin says. He doesn’t know if anything in the Upside Down is particularly interested in human brain matter, but it’s worth considering. He points at his backpack.

“Those supplies should last you a couple of days. I was only able to snag one bottle of water so make sure you don’t chug it all today.”

“There’s a creek not too far from here, I could just drink from there,” Eddie says, licking jelly off his dirty fingers, the metal on his cracked rings glinting in the sunlight.

“The last thing you need is dysentery because you drank shit-water, Eddie,” Dustin reminds him. Eddie shrugs and rummages in Dustin’s bag, pulling out a clean roll of gauze, bandages, and a bottle of Bactine spray and lining them up next to him. He slowly, carefully rolls himself forward onto his knees and lifts the frayed ends of his shirt up to his chest, pinning it in place with his chin. He takes a quick breath, holds it, and starts lifting the crusted, grisly fabric from his skin. Dustin can hear the makeshift bandaging coming off inch by painful inch, undoubtedly yanking loose hunks of flesh with it, and Eddie’s face twists and contorts the closer he gets to the deepest injuries on his stomach. His hands start to tremble, and he screws his eyes shut tight.

“Do you want help?” Dustin asks, already leaning forward. Eddie shakes his head, eyes still closed.

“Nope,” he says through gritted teeth. “I got it, I’m good…I got it…”

He huffs shakily and curls his fingers tighter around the loose end of the fabric. Suddenly, he tugs it hard and fast, trying to rip it away from his body like a Band-Aid but it gets stuck halfway. Eddie lets out a cry, one hand flying up to cover his mouth and stifle himself, and collapses backward onto his ass. Dustin is at his side before the dirt has even settled back onto the ground.

In the Upside Down, Dustin was tying the sheets he pulled off of Eddie’s alternate bed into another makeshift rope while Eddie leaned against the wall, one hand white-knuckling his spear-walking stick, the other clamped against his stomach. Dustin had just knotted the second sheet onto the expanding length when Eddie spoke up.

“What’s the plan for when we get back?” he asked. Dustin glanced up briefly before resuming his task.

“Well, assuming everything’s worked out in regards to Vecna, Max, and the gates, we figure out a way to clear your name and then you execute your “flipping off Principal Higgins and running like hell outta here” plan.”

“That easy, huh?”

“Eddie, you didn’t kill anyone. You don’t seriously think the police are believing Jason’s “satanic worship” bullshit, do you?” Eddie didn’t respond. Just stared ahead at the slick vines tangled along the trailer’s walls.

“Eddie?”

“Yanno, when my uncle took me in, he got so much shit from our neighbors,” Eddie said softly, the ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. “They knew all about my dad, the kind of stuff he was into, how he was always strung out or bouncing in and out of jail. Wayne talked about it all the time, it bugged the hell out of him - I guess he couldn’t ever have his own little crotchgoblins, but he sure wanted some, and it made him nuts that my old man had exactly what he wanted and just…ruined it. ‘Course, my dad could write the book on ruining shit, so, that didn’t come as much of a surprise…

“Anyway, he got busted again, and when they couldn’t find my mom anywhere, it was either foster care or Uncle Wayne’s. And Uncle Wayne’s didn’t include six shitbird kids all crammed into one room and fighting over who got the bed with the least amount of bugs in it, so…pretty easy choice. Our neighbors couldn’t believe it when Wayne brought me home, they stared me down like I was tracking shit in the house the whole time. And I heard ‘em talking about me, tellin’ him, “Oh, that kid, he’s gonna grow up to be just like his scumbag dad and you know it, Wayne. He’s gonna get you into real trouble someday, Wayne.” But he didn’t listen. He didn’t care.”

Eddie’s bottom lip quivered, and he wiped the sleeve of his leather jacket across his nose, clearing his throat. “That was just when people thought I was a juvenile delinquent, Henderson. What kind of shit do you think he’s gonna get if people think I’m the next Bundy?”

“Eddie, we’re gonna figure it out, I promise you,” Dustin said, and Eddie scoffed.

“No…no, I can’t do that to him,” he said lowly. “I won’t. After everything he’s done for me, the least I could do is make sure a bunch of angry hicks don’t bang down his door for harboring a murderer.”

Dustin pulls the last of the fabric off Eddie’s stomach, balls it up, and sets it next to his bag. Eddie’s on his back now, sweat beading above his brow, panting from the pain. One hand is curled up into a fist and pressed into his forehead, the other is crushing Dustin’s hand in its grip. Dustin examines Eddie’s injuries - too many bites to ever hope to count, with such a thick layer of dark red blood crusted over everything it’s hard to tell where the skin is still intact on his body.

“Do you still have any of the water we brought from a couple of days ago?” Dustin asks. Eddie nods.

“Yeah…back there, somewhere.”

Dustin walks further into the cave, past a disheveled sleeping bag, a few empty water bottles, crumpled-up chip bags, and paper plates with the remnants of a lasagna Dustin had stolen out of the fridge at home. Eddie’s jacket is the only thing in here that displays even a shred of care, as it’s folded into a crisp square and resting on top of a large rock. Dustin snags a mostly empty water bottle off the ground and heads back to his friend, unfurling the fabric he’d cast aside and picking a relatively unstained spot to work with. He wets the edge and slips his other hand back into Eddie’s.

“This might hurt,” he says, and Eddie laughs bitterly.

He pulls the skull bandana from around his neck and bunches the end of it up, sticking it between his teeth as a bite guard. “Do your worst,” he says, voice muffled.

Luckily, it doesn’t seem to be unbearable - Dustin wipes the crusted blood off of Eddie’s body as tenderly as he can, rinsing the rag of blood every so often and wringing the soiled water out. Eddie breathes through it, his eyes shut and his hand flexing around Dustin’s. The cleaner his skin becomes, the more Dustin can see that any flesh not marred by Demobat bites is bruised almost black.

Setting the rag back down in the dirt, Dustin picks up the Bactine bottle and shakes it. The sound makes Eddie crack open his eyes a sliver, and he makes a strained noise in the back of his throat.

“Now that, that is gonna hurt,” he says around the bandana, trying to remain humorous but his voice is tinged with fear. Dustin squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“Just try not to scream too loud, okay?”

Eddie gives a thumbs up. “Roger that.”

The moment the spray hits his skin, Eddie arches off the ground and slaps his hand over his mouth, stuffing the bandana even further into it, agonized wails muffled by his fingers. He writhes in absolute misery, feet carving trenches in the loose dirt beneath him as he kicks and flails wildly. Dustin apologizes over and over again, and when he’s finally finished cleansing the wounds, tears are slipping down the sides of Eddie’s temples and dripping into his hair.

“There, all done, we’re all done,” Dustin soothes, setting the bottle down by Eddie’s head as he reaches for the gauze. As he’s lifting the corner with his teeth, he hears Eddie heave a humorless laugh. He looks down, and Eddie’s head is turned so he can look at the Bactine bottle, bandana wet with saliva and spat onto the ground.

“No sting my ass,” he pants, reading the label. Dustin chuckles.

“On the bright side, nothing is pus-y or infected looking,” he says, pulling Eddie up into a sitting position. “So as long as we stay on top of cleaning it out, it should stay that way.”

“Maybe I’ll get some vampire powers out of this,” Eddie says. He’s gone white as a sheet, and Dustin can feel his body tremoring as he wraps the gauze tightly around his body, but he’s still cracking jokes. He doesn’t know if it’s to make him feel better, or Eddie.

“What’re you thinking? Super speed?”

“With my luck, it’ll be an aversion to holy water and crucifixes,” Eddie says snidely. He groans as Dustin knots the end of the gauze and applies extra pressure to his wounds. The bandage is secured next, and Eddie gives Dustin a spare safety pin from the pocket of his jeans so he can fasten it.

“There! Good as new,” Dustin announces, patting Eddie on the shoulder.

Eddie flattens his shirt back down over his stomach and crosses his legs underneath him, letting his head fall into his hands and rubbing his eyes. They sit in silence for a bit, the only sound in the entire forest being the wind rustling through the leaves. Dustin reclines against the cold inner wall of the cave, staring up at the damp, smooth ceiling, the stale stench of the Upside Down wafting toward him on the breeze.

Eddie made Dustin promise he’d keep up the act that Eddie was dead. He couldn’t fathom waltzing back into Hawkins and graduating after everything, even if somehow he was found innocent, because the stigma would still follow him no matter what. And if it followed him, it would follow Wayne too. He would be a permanent dark cloud above his uncle’s head, as far as he saw it.

Eddie remembered a cave he’d found as a kid, one he used to run to whenever he got in trouble with his dad and wanted to avoid a beatdown for as long as possible, and since it was so deep into the forest he presumed no one would find him out there even if they didn’t believe he was dead.

“I don’t care what story you make up,” he said, “you can tell everyone I went out with my head spinning and puking up pea soup like Regan MacNeil, whatever, just…just as long as they think I’m gone.”

Vecna nearly sinking the entirety of Hawkins eliminated any need for an Exorcist-esque lie, but that’s still what it was - a lie. Dustin lied to everyone, he lied to Steve. But it was to protect Eddie and Wayne from any further harm. Surely his friends would understand that?

“How’s he doing?” Eddie asks suddenly. “Wayne. How’s he doing?”

“He was putting up missing posters for you in the high school when I saw him.”

“Okay, that’s what he’s doing - I want to know how he’s doing.”

Dustin tilts his head down to look at Eddie. “How do you think he’s doing, Ed?” he asks somberly. “I told him I was with you during the earthquake. That I saw you die.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He looks away, back into the darkness of the cave, and takes a deep, quivering breath. He has no witty comeback, no smart remarks. He just sits and stares, and he pinches the bridge of his nose before sniffling and clearing his throat.

“But I told him you died a hero,” Dustin says. Eddie nods, looking down at his lap, a watery smile on his face.

“Yeah. A hero.”

“You are a hero, Eddie,” Dustin assures him. “You’re a hero to me.”

Eddie’s smile splits his face apart further, and he meets Dustin’s gaze evenly, dark eyes wet with unshed tears. He grunts, pushing himself up on his knees again, and hobbles over to Dustin’s side of the cave. He flops down beside him unceremoniously, throwing an arm over Dustin’s shoulders and knocking their heads together gently.

“You’re pretty heroic yourself, man,” he says sincerely. He jostles Dustin against him, ruffling his curly hair with one hand. “You pulled my ass out of the Upside Down with a busted leg.”

“You would’ve done the same for me,” Dustin says confidently.

“Kid, after everything we’ve been through, I’d steal the moon out of the sky and crush it up into a d20 for you.”

They both laugh, and Dustin leans into Eddie’s side, smiling.

He lied. He’s technically aiding a fugitive, since “presumed dead” doesn’t mean much to conspiracy theorists who will probably always tell stories of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, the devil-worshipping dungeon master who disappeared without a trace. But sitting in this cave, with Eddie safe and alive, his grimy hair tickling his cheek, reeking of sweat and dirt and antibacterial spray, Dustin knows he will lie for the rest of his life if it means he gets to keep his friend safe.

Friends don’t lie. But friends always protect.

#stranger things #stranger things fix it #stranger things fic #stranger things vol 2 spoilers #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 2 #fix it fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dustin henderson #dustin henderson fanfiction #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #angst #angst fic #hurt/comfort

124 notes · View notes

ratherbefangirling · 2 years ago

Text

⏳Out of Time⌛

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Character Focus: Jimin, Jungkook, Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Established relationships

Summary: he wanted to love you but should you let him?

Warning ⚠️: Past Trauma, Unhealthy relationship, mentions of hospitals, hospitalisation and abortion

It's not like you have other options and it's not a bad arrangement what you would be saving on rent you could by more stuff with.. desserts books clothes anything.

"Please treat me well." Jungkook says.

You nod your head embarrassed at the formal tone.

The dinner passed fairly well.

Even though Namjoon tried to interact with both of you you could see the struggle he had in toning down and balancing his y/n personality vs his Jungkook personality.

The both of you adjusted fairly well and other than his gaming at ungodly hours there wasn't much he did that irritated you.

You had taken a week of from work. To cope. Barely leaving your bed. Your room was messy but you were too blind to notice it.

You even forgot that your mom was coming to visit you and your boyfriend... um ex.

Your phone rang and you talked to your mom.

And everything was normal until she told you she was coming this weekend. Which was two days later and she was excited to meet your boyfriend.

As soon as she hung up. You set to clean the room and the house.

"What's with the commotion." Jungkook asked.

"My mom's coming in the weekend." You replied brain empty.

"Oh cool." He said and was going to leave when you let out an inhuman cry.

"Oh no.. I'm doomed."

"Are you on drugs?" Jungkook enquired.

You shook your head only mildly offended.

"Does your mom hate smoking?."

"What.." You say in disbelief.

"'Um I don't smoke." You tell him

"'I know I couldn't smell it." He comments.

"No its you."

"Me.? I'm an angel "

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

Boys. Men. The male gender.

"So I told my mom I live with my boyfriend which was true but we broke up."

"So tell her that where's the problem."

"You don't get it Jungkook. If I tell her that she'll ask who are you and if she gets to know we just met that too through my Internet friend. Now I'm living with a boy with tattoos.. no offence, I think they're hot but she is going to freak and demand I come back home. She barely let me make friends back home I love her but I can't go back." You sat full on panic ranting.

"Hey calm down. Why don't you tell her that I'm your boyfriend." He suggests simply.

"Oh my god Jeon Jungkook you're an angel." You whoop with excitement.

Jungkook grins at you coolly.

"Y/n have you seen my tie."

"I swear Jungkook I told you a hundred times put it with your coats."

"Sorry y/n ssi .. now hurry I'm getting late."

You massaged your head.

It was going to be fine.

Suddenly you feel nauseas you run to the bathroom and vomit.

"Y/n... are you OK?" Your husband asks.

"It's fine I did feel weird yesterday after eating at that shitty diner."

"I've told you this a thousand times Eun Tak may be your best friend but she has some questionable dining choices I don't want a repeat of that eating expired food episode. I get she's a content creator but I was the one one who had to take care of you when you got hospitalised."

You wanted to argue with him but you remembered how he had been so vulnerable then.

'I thought I lost you god dammit..'

' I... couldn't even tell you I love you *your full name* '

'Please be OK please come back to me'

"Sorry kook." You say apologetic

"I'll email your office. Stay at home today." His phone rang. "I need to go but if you're not OK call me don't wait for it to get worse."

You nod.

You go to bed but after a while of lying down you realise sleep has escaped you.

You open the TV to watch something to pass time.

And today we have on show the rising star the special guest soloist Jimin... his latest song Serendipity has topped charts.

"Jimin shi... Can you tell us more about the song?"

Some how you find yourself unable to change the channel.

Were you over him?

Were you bored ?

Did you refuse to allow him any control over you?

You didn't know.

"This song is part of the story my album tells Serendipity is a love that found me unexpectedly and blessed me selflessly." You scoff.

"So a story Jimin shi what story are you telling or more importantly whose?"

Jimin smiled his pretty smile.

"While 'Serendipity' speaks about the love that was unexpected and is a saving grace and also the title. The other songs when listened in the exact order tell you the story of a nostalgic love. I hope you enjoy listening to them as much ad I did making them. Please give a lot of love to me and to them"

"Sounds fascinating. Who was your inspiration behind this. Anyone in particular."

"My fans of course mochi's Saranghae. They always inspire me to do my best. I was lost and did not know what to do and then just like magic they came they saw in me what I couldn't see myself and brought me here."

"This was Jimin and that's all for today folks."

You scoff but then again what did you expect.

When Jungkook came he found you listening to music. Tears dripping in your eyes. Worried he wiped your tears .

Startled you almost dropped the laptop.

"Is it paining, love? Do you want to go to the hospital."

"I'm fine Jungkook." You assure him

"Please y/n why are you crying."

"I just heard a very sad song... I mean technically it wasn't sad... but I'm... I'm just moody."

"Ah that time of the month."

You wanted to hit him but he wasn't wrong a week before your periods were set to arrive you would be moody if you were crying it was OK but somehow if you were happy god forbid then the week of your periods would have Jungkook tiptoeing around you and appeasing you with your favourite food.

"Hug?" He asks.

You nod and let him pull you in his embrace. It's safe and it's home.

The house was cleaner than its ever been. Luckily your mum was only coming for two days. You and Jungkook had prepared your back story. You had requested he wear long shirts too hide his tattoo's. Your mom was aware that your boyfriend wore earrings. That happened when you'd told her about the couple earrings Jimin had gifted you for valentines. You were counting on Jungkook's cute face to calm and reassure your mother.

You had prepared her favourite dishes and even desert. Though the servings of dessert kept disappearing courtesy of Jungkook. Because I quote 'It's too good almost like coffee one cup is never enough.'

You noted the detail though. Keeping it for later use. In case Jungkook need bribing.

You remember your first date with Jungkook or the first official one anyway. Despite the fact you lived together and had confessed to liking each other you had yet to go on a date. Soon after confessing that he liked you he had to go visit his dad who wasn't feeling well.

The last moments of your shared time together you practically stuck to him. He cooed at your behaviour calling you a baby.

"This baby is now your chosen mess." You had whined.

He had laughed and pecking the top of your head before grabbing the last of his stuff and completing his packing.

"See you soon." He said as he left the car.

You had both decided not to let you drop him off at the train station in case you both started bawling.

"You kept your socks and your charger right? Do you have your ticket. Check it one more time."

"Yes Y/n, I do. Don't worry."

"'Call me ok?"

"Ofcourse. Don't be too sad I will come back before you know it. Go on and enjoy making a mess of the house without me nagging at you."

"Hey between the two of us you're the messy one." You complain he only laughs in response.

You do miss him as you eat alone or when you see the door of his bedroom that's closed. Still he regularly calls you up mostly late night since you have work in the morning and he spends time with his family in the evening. The calls aren't very long because you can't sleep late and get up early. Still it's the highlight if your day.

It's on these calls he proposes to go on a date. With tossing back and forth of ideas you both decide to go to an amusement park after admitting you hadn't been on a proper roller coaster before.

"What do you mean you haven't been on a roller coaster. That is literally a crime against humanity." Jungkook says from across the phone screen.

"No need to be over dramatic." You reply.

"It really is I can't imagine it happening."

"I saw Final Destination and was slightly creeper of and then one of my friends had vomited after riding one so I decided I would do it after I became an adult but since than I've barely had any opportunity to like finally do it. Its been a long time since I went to an amusement park."

"Worry No longer Jeon Jungkook to the rescue. I will remedy the situation."

"No doubt you will."

"Maybe we can try going on roller coaster till one of us vomits." Jungkook suggests cheekily.

"Jungkook no. Absolutely not. It's a date. It's supposed to be enjoyable."

"As long as you're with me there isn't much I can not enjoy."

"Ah.." You sit flustered by his sudden suaveness.

The day of the date comes you're dressed prettily. You even booked an appointment at the salon to get your hair done. Despite temptation leading you on the opposite direction, knowing Jungkook you wear comfortable shoes that go with your outfit.

However good or bad your stamina might be it is pretty nonexistent in front of Jungkook. Who in combination with excitement is like a bunny on steroids.

Still even though your feet ache by the end of the day, all you remember is laughing so loud that your stomach hurt and Jungkook offering you a piggyback ride.

You think life loves playing games with you.

Due to Jungkook's insistance you go get yourself checked. After spending the whole day in the hospital getting checked and waiting. The doctor tells you might be pregnant and gives you an appointmentwith the gynaecologist. You feel restless, unsure. All sort of thoughts clogging your brain. Were you ready to be a mom? How would Jungkook react? Were you ready for this in your relationship only a few days ago you were crying about Jimin? Was this fair to Jungkook's and your unborn child.

You are quite when you come home. Still not ready to face the world you hide under your blanket. That's how Jungkook finds you.

"I told Namjoon Hyung that you're not feeling well. He just hopes you get well in time for the wedding because he's not sure what he'll do without you. And I got our clothes ironed. And the jewellery you ordered is here too."

"Thank you." You say.

He falls beside you on the bed.

"Come closer." He says and you obey. It's quite and nice and you decide whatever happens you'll face it together like you've always done.

On the day of Namjoon's wedding you feel better. You almost cry when you see Namjoon. Its like a mother hen watching her chick grow. Jungkook is both concerned and possessive.

When Namjoon talks to his other friends. Jungkook pulls you aside. Arms around your waist.

"Hey love I would appreciate if you would stop crying over a man that's not me." He says slightly pouty.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. It's just he's struggled a lot to reach here. When we first met. He was struggling with anxiety and depression and generally going through a tough time. And I'm so proud of him for fighting and not giving up on himself his life. I just I've seen that growth and strength in him and Jungkookie.. it gives me hope."

Jungkook softens at your words. It's true you and Namjoon were similar in that way life hadn't been easy for you and while he envied your bond both because he had admired Namjoon a lot and because he loved you. He had come to accept the difference. He remembered early on in your relationship you guys had gotten into a fight and it was memorable because after it was over you'd sat him down and told him the reason why you didn't talk about your difficulties with him initially because he had not experienced it and thus couldn't relate while you appreciated him you didn't want to be sad with him all the time, you were scared he would leave.

He was surprised because he thought you didn't tell him because you didn't trust him. From then on you both had worked actively to prevent any miscommunication.

Understanding and loving were different things. Him trying to understand you was enough for you.

Still there would always be a part of him which wanted you to only rely on him. He wanted to give you everything the world could offer. But since he couldn't do that he just kissed your forehead.

"My silly beautiful crybaby wife." He says fond.

The ceremony is beautiful. There's laughter. You both give speeches. It's a wonderful evening.

Jungkook gets up to get some dessert. You sit and massage your legs. Walking around all day in heavy clothes and heels is taxing. You get impatient waiting for Jungkook. So you go to find him. Except you find something.. or should I say someone else.

"Jimin." You gasp and he turns towards you and he's just as shining and just as beautiful as the first time you saw him.

"Y/n." He acknowledges.

Your world is spinning. You feel an incoming headache.

"I ... What are you doing here?"

"I'm the brides cousin."

"Oh."

"And you?"

"I'm the grooms bestfriend."

He suppresses a sigh. There's a frown on his face and you want to remove it. It was bad for his face, since the early days of your relationship he had asked you to look for it and warn him.

"No bad lines on your face." You say force of habit and then shut your mouth.

He looks at you surprised. " Actually, I knew I saw the speech. Great speech by the way."

He says and there's silence. You think of things to say.

"Is it too late if I ask you to take me back?"

"I'm married." You state.

"I know and I dont care if I'm your side piece. I just want you back."

"Do you even listen to yourself?" You say exasperated.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean it that way I just want to be a part of your life in any way that's possible. I want to be able to buy you things, to hold you, to kiss you, to love you." Your eyes widen in shock and some part of you feels miserable but a larger part just feels anger.

"Jimin you're being ridiculous. Just stop. " You tell him.

"Please take my number. If you ever change your mind. I did this for us and if I can't have you then what's the point. Just my card.. wait I will give you my card." Still insisting.

He opens his wallet and takes out his information card.

Jungkooks hand on your waist surprises you. You hope he hasn't heard your conversation with Jimin. It would end up being ugly. You couldn't ruin your bestfriends wedding day.

"Who's this love?" He asks you his head on your shoulder.

You can feel the anger rise in Jimin but he puts on a smile.

"Park Jimin. We used to be acquaintances." He says and your thrown back into the bitter days that Jimin introduced you as such.

"Hmm. I'm Jeon Jungkook. Y/n's husband. Hope you don't mind I will be taking my wife with me." Jungkook says guiding you away.

You suppress a smile at his jealousy. You think it's cute. Still your stomach is unsettled.

"I can't leave you one minute and have someone not flirt with you." Jungkook remarks.

"I'm sorry Kookie. I promise I didn't... I wasn't.." You are trembling. Things can't go wrong. Not now. Not ever. Not again.

"I know baby. Its just you're so pretty. I'm so happy you are mine." He says holding your hands firmly and pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's reassuring even though a dredge of guilt still lingers.

Jungkook wonders what happened to you to make you this way.

When Jungkook and you had first started dating. He was over the moon. You were pretty, kind, understanding and perfect in every way.

Until he had noticed your odd behaviour.

One day Namjoon had come up to him.

"I'm glad for both of you but you really need to stop hogging my bestfriend. We literally never hang out since you've started dating. It's always Jungkook this and Jungkook that."

Jungkook was confused but he didn't think much of it. He mentioned it at dinner.

"Y/n Joon came up to me telling he was missing you."

You dropped the spoon you were holding.

"I-I can explain."

Jungkook furrowed his brow. Why would you explain?

"I'm sorry. I I promise there's nothing. We are just friends."

Jungkooks expression must have worsened because he could see that you were on the edge of tears.

"Love, Y/n..." he approaches you and you stiffen. He doesn't understand what's happening.

"Look at me." He tells you softly.

You look like a kicked puppy.

He holds you hands.

"It's fine. I was just saying Namjoon is your bestfriend. You guys should hang out more just cause we are dating doesn't mean your life evolves around me."

"You don't want me around. Am I being to clingy??" You ask.

"No of course not. I love you babe and I love spending time with you but don't you think it'd be healthier if we don't neglect our friends."

"So you're not angry?"

"No obviously not."

The incident might have been strange for Jungkook but it had been strange for you too. Jimin would never let you be with any guys especially alone even before you guys started dating. And as far as your friends were concerned especially female ones they were always to busy to make time for you and even when they did all they could talk about was their partner so you gradually built distance.

After you leave with Jungkook, Jimin looks at you both for a long time. He feels angry and jealous. You were his. He took deep breaths. He hoped soon enough you too realised nobody could treat you better than him.

Jungkook decided to come pick you up from your appointment. He hadn't the time to check where you'd been referred to until he's standing outside the hospital.

Third floor you'd told him. When he sees the sign of gynaecology. His heart beats faster. If it is what he thinks it is. He is Euphoric. You've made him the happiest man. He's grinning as he looks for you, until he sees you bent over and crying papers in your hand. Worry rises in his throat.

"Y/n." He says softly holding you in an embrace. "What's it love?"

"I'm... I.. pregnant."

"Is it ... do you..." he takes in a deep breath queasy at the possibility." Do you not want?"

You shake your head no and he feels relieved. A weight lifted of him. Sometimes you took time to process things. The news probably hadn't settled in you yet.

"Let's go home, yes?" He asks. Hands in his throughout you reach home. After your crying session you're tired so Jungkook tucks you into the bed.

Your phone rings. It's Namjoon's message and a missed call.

He picks it up.

Namjoon : why didn't you tell me Jimin was there and you met him

Are you okay? We were just checking pictures of the wedding party. I swear I didn't know.

I know how tough it was. He contacted Jieun for your number but I heard so I told her I'd ask you first.

I know you're an adult and you both loved each other and broke up because of his career but I hope you don't end up doing something stupid. *message deleted*

So let me know?

Jungkook dropped your phone but luckily you stayed asleep. Now your reaction made sense.

You didn't want him. He was just a replacement of Jimin. Despite what logic dictated. He searched up Jimin on the Internet.

Jimin; he realised was every thing he wasn't and all parts you liked about him at the same time. He could see it clearly.

You always praising his singing you liked sweet voices huh , supporting him but also having anxiety whenever he had a project were you worried he'd choose his job over you ,Making him wear colored clothing different styles trying to turn him cute like your ex.

He looked at you sleeping and felt suffocated. He left his wedding band in the on the dining table. He was at loss.

Never did he imagine such a day would come in his life. You were the love of his life but was he the love of yours. For the first time he felt insecure in your relationship.

Is this how you felt all the time? He never felt burdened for reassuring you but now he understood you more and couldn't help but feel sad.

He cried in the bathroom.

When you wake up Jungkook's missing. You guess he's probably at the gym. You text him to get groceries. You decide to eat something. Now you were responsible for healthy eating of two. You put a hand on your belly.

"Don't worry little one. Mommy is going to take care of you."

You make yourself a sandwich and decide to sit at the dining table to eat. There's Jungkook's wedding band. Surely it's a mistake.

Anxiety creeps up and you are unable to swallow the food you were eating.

He must have removed it but you can't convince yourself because he never removes it.

The lock to your apartment opens. There's Jungkook coming in empty handed.

"Didn't you see my message?" You ask.

He looks up at you.

"No." He replies and goes to the kitchen. He looks sweaty from a workout. He makes himself a vegetable smoothie.

You go behind him but he doesn't say anything.

"I uh. You're not wearing your wedding band."

"It felt suffocating."

"Did your ring size grow? Do we need to go to the jeweller?"

"No. Just leave it." He dismisses.

"What's wrong ggukie?"

"Why don't you tell me?" He turns back anger rising in his voice.

"'..nothing nothings wrong." You say suddenly very unsure of yourself.

"Why were you crying?" He asks softer noticing your previous discomfort.

"I was just overwhelmed." You reply.

"Ha you sure I thought it was because of Jimin." And it comes out stronger than Jungkook intended but also because he wasn't planning to confront you.

You stumble back.

"How do you know about Jimin." You ask goosebumps visible on your arms.

"So you were really." He says half talking to himself.

"Jungkook who told you about Jimin." You ask desperation in your voice.

"No one I saw Namjoon texting you about him."

You stay quiet. He scoffs.

"Mind telling me about Jimin." He says sarcastically.

"I .." You take a deep breath. "He's my ex .. the ex."

He keeps the glass in the sink. Holding its edges as if steeling himself.

"So when are you leaving?"

"What do you mean?" You ask confused.

"Clearly you still have feelings for him."

You don't respond and Jungkook waits, when you still stay frozen he leaves slamming the door shut.

You don't talk to each other for a whole week.

You are torn. It's the longest you've gone without speaking to each other. You wonder when you'll finally be free of your past.

So you decide to write. Write down your feelings.

You want to say you hate him. That you wish you had never met him. That he ruined your life and broke your heart. Its true that he abandoned you and for that a part of you would never forgive him. But a greater part of you had loved him, been madly desperately in love and even now that part of you still wishes that he is happy.

Jimin stands infront of you.

He starts to speak but you stop him.

"Let me speak because if I don't now I don't think I will be able to....I hated you for a long time because I thought you broke my trust but that wasn't it. Looking back I realised both of us might have loved each other but we never trusted each other. Now I know that a relationship is nothing without trust. Because when you 'fall' in love its because you trust the person you love will catch you. I forgive you because I loved you once and more importantly I love myself and respect my partner enough to not let myself be consumed by the shadow of doubts that relationship left me."

"Y/n.. I." Jimin speaks up.

"No, please let me complete it. I hope you too find happiness because you're a great person. I hope you're more sure of yourself now. And despite the bad times, we had happy days and in honor of those I wish you find happiness like I've found with Jungkook. The happiness of coming home after a long day. That being said I sincerely hope that I never see you again." You say, your eyes are teary.

Jimin reaches out to wipe your tears but stops himself. He's lost the right to touch you, to wipe your tears. He doesn't realise when his eyes start watering.

"I'm.. really.. I'm so sorry but I'm thankful for having known you, for having loved you " and I still do even if you may not want me he wants to add.. "Thank you. I understand even though you never want to see me, I hope we do cross paths because you're one of the best things life gave me."

You close your eyes wishing he would disappear and Jungkook would come.

"I hope you're happy and you stay happy for a long time. Good bye." He says and turns because even now he can't watch you go.

"Good bye, Jimin." You hear footsteps fading.

You open your eyes and the sun is setting on the horizon. Your phone rings. It's a reminder you'd set for a day that wouldn't happen.

A wedding with Jimin.

It's almost poetic. You delete it. Finally you're free. It feels like the best time to move on.

Jungkook's voice calls you out. You turn to him. His face lit with joy as he realises you have come to see him for his lunch break. He rushes to hold you in his arms greeting you by kissing your cheek and rubbing you're pregnant belly.

He wants to ask why you're crying but since the unpredictability of your moods due to your hormones he's learnt better than to ask and send you in a spiral again. He trusts you to tell him if he can help for now he's going to enjoy his lunch break shrouding his wife

Jimin despite himself turns back and finds you giggling in Jungkook's arms. His phone rings its a reminder that had been set many years ago. He deletes it. He hides his face with a cap and goes on with his way. Determined not to look back again.

Fin.

Dear Jungkook,

Of all of things running through my head the thing that I am sure about is I love you.

It's a tragedy that heart bursting with joy and heartache are two sides of the same coin of love.

Before you the person who taught me love was Jimin but if I were to say which side of love I learnt through him it would be heartache.

He came into my life suddenly and filled it with novelty but he left just the same leaving a gaping wound.

A wound that was healed by you.

It is true I was sad that day but not because I wanted him back because I wondered what life could have been if things were different.

You thought I'd leave you for him and I felt betrayed that you didn't trust our love, trust me. Maybe that's why I ignored you instead of appeasing you. This has been the longest week of my life.

And I could say so many things but all I want to say is

I love you and I want to love you till the last breath of my soul and I want to be loved by you the way you love me and only the way you love me and only you. Steady, warm and reliant.

Only yours,

Mrs. Jeon Jungkook 💖

Authors Note 📝

Painful to the end 💔 😢. Have some tissues and cookies. But also sweet.

You may wonder why I didnt show the resolution between the fight with Jungkook.

I think it would be very emotional with both of them crying and waking up eyes swollen but also cuddled up and Jungkook whining how he almost died. And Y/n making him promise not to start imagining things by himself and never letting her go because she'd actually die but he shuts her up saying don't even talk about it.

Hope you enjoyed reading it. Have a nice day.

Remember Tumblr works by reblogs. Let me know what you think.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts au #jeon jungkook #bts angst #bts fluff #park jimin #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jimin x you #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #kim namjoon

54 notes · View notes

study-coffee-chicago · 3 years ago

Text

Seasons of Med: Season 5 & Seasons of PD: Season 7: Necrotizing Fasciitis Scare (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I am going to get you to understand football at this game come hell or high water," Jay told you as you said that you really didn't understand anything about football while Kevin tried to hook up the tv. Kelly threw Jay the football and Jay caught it.

"Hell or high water, huh?" you asked. "Did you just turn southern? Isn't that a southern phrase?"

"I can say whatever I want, thank you were much. Now catch." He threw you the football and you caught it easily.

"Kelly, I can't promise this is gonna be a good throw, so be ready to move," you told him as you threw the football to him. He had to jump to the left and jump high to catch it.

"Y/N, you suck at this," he laughed.

"I know."

"Jay, teach your sister how to throw a football, will you?"

He threw the ball back to Jay.

All of you were currently at Soldier Field to watch the Bears' game on a Friday afternoon. Will was originally going to go with Jay and you were going to study for your biology class, even though it was summer. You had decided to take a summer biology class so then you wouldn't have to deal with it during the fall and winter semesters when you'd be drowning in homework with other classes...and you figured you could do this one in the summer because you had heard horror stories of how hard this specific professor at CCU was. Luckily for you, Will was a doctor and could help you understand those damn diagrams that always gave you trouble.

Anyway, Will was going to come, but he got put on the schedule last minute, so Jay dragged you here even though you didn't know the slightest bit about football. Hell, you didn't even have any Bears gear to wear! Jay had given you one of his hats to wear with the promise that he'd get it back.

"Y/N!" Hailey yelled to you. "Wanna run to Mama Garcia's food truck with me?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed.

"Hailey," Jay whined. "I was just about to teach her how to throw a football."

"Halstead, if she doesn't know yet, I'm sure you can wait a few minutes. Now, I need my Spanish-speaking Halstead to come with me."

You had taken AP Spanish last year and had gotten a good enough grade on the AP exam to give you twelve college credits. This was partly thanks to Mama Garcia. You had been studying in her restaurant one night when you asked her a question about a tense. She explained it and then said that if you ever wanted to practice speaking Spanish and make some money at the same time, that you could work or her under the table. You took her up on that offer and your Spanish improved immensely.

Once you got up to the window of the food truck, you ordered a big batch of tamales in Spanish and then translated how much it was to Hailey. Then, you and Hailey went back to Jay and the rest of all your brother's first responder friends.

Kelly was yelling at Stella, Hailey, and you not to break into the tamales before the burgers were done, but you all didn't listen and each grabbed one out of the box.

You were in the middle of eating yours when you heard a scream.

You went towards the scream along with Jay, Natalie, and Kelly, but Jay made sure you stayed behind him. But, this didn't block your entire view, though.

You looked down at this man's leg. It was red and it looked like there was a giant gash on his shin with puss, blood, and flesh coming out. Things were moving underneath the skin. He was seizing and he kept saying BRT.

It was all too much. You took the Bears hat off.

"Y/N, I need you to get away from this. Whatever this guy has, I don't want you to--"

Jay didn't even finish his sentence before you vomited into that he had let you use, using it as a makeshift bowl for your puke.

He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side after you finished emptying that tamale you had started eating into his hat.

"You done? You good?" Jay asked.

You coughed and then wiped your mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about your hat. I just- I don't like blood and that was nasty."

"I know. I think everyone's going to Med, so we'll run to the bathroom so we can throw away my hat now and you can rinse out your mouth. I think I have gum in my truck."

"Okay. Be glad I had the smart idea to puke into that hat, though. Or else it probably would've gone on you."

"Yeah, but I lost a nice hat in the process," Jay said as he rolled his eyes and you two made your way towards the bathrooms.

***

"It's necrotizing fasciitis," Will said. Everyone looked at him with a blank expression.

"Flesh-eating bacteria," you supplied.

"Wow, where'd you learn that, Short Stack?" Will asked.

"Can you not call me that? I'm eighteen! And, I learned it by watching Untold Stories of the ER."

"Junior doctor on our hands I think, Jay. And, you're still shorter than me and Jay so I can call you that, thank you very much."

"After her puking just at the sight of that, yeah, no way she's becoming a doctor," Jay said. "Anyway, the victim?"

"Right, sorry. Your victim had necrotizing fasciitis, more commonly known as, as Y/N said, flesh-eating bacteria. And, don't worry, it's not contagious. Only about four in a million people get it each year," Will explained.

"So, how do you get nec..." Kelly trailed off, not knowing the correct pronunciation.

"Necrotizing fasciitis. It enters through a break in the skin and just destroys the tissue under the epidermis. It--"

"The epidermis is the first layer of the skin," you said, reciting something you had learned in your biology class.

"Yes, it's the first layer of skin. But, as I was saying, it would really help us treat this guy if we knew who he was," Will finished after your interruption.

"I can't open a case file without a crime," Jay started, "but I'll see if I can run prints and check traffic cam footage. Maybe make out some sort of ID."

After a few minutes, everyone's panic had died down and you and Kelly were sitting down next to each other. He was trying to explain football to you even though you really couldn't care less. Meanwhile, Jay was about to make a phone call when Will motioned him over.

"Yeah?" Jay asked.

"You or Y/N have any contact with the victim? And, if you did, do you or her have any breaks in the skin?" Will asked, clearly worried about his younger siblings.

"No, we didn't have any contact. Just had Y/N puke in my hat I let her borrow," Jay answered.

"Okay, good. But, as I said, necrotizing fasciitis is rare, so you two should be fine. I gotta get back, but call if you find out anything on the victim."

"Will do. Remember to wear your gloves." Will rolled his eyes. "What? You just said it enters through breaks in the skin."

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"One of my many talents."

***

"Hey, I'm leaving," Jay told you around noon the next day, poking his head into your bedroom while you stared at your lab lectures, trying to remember all the diagrams and pictures you'd need to help you identify body parts on your next lab practical.

"Okay, I'm going to the lab around 2:00 to study. That way I can actually see that stuff as I'll see it on the lab practical," you told him, not even looking up from your notes.

"Okay, be safe." He picked up Beary, who was leaning up against a pillow next to you, in a graduation gown and cap outfit. "Beary, can you make sure she takes breaks?" Then, his voice changed into his baby voice, what he always pretended was Beary's voice. "Oh, yes, Jay. I'll make sure she takes breaks while you're gone."

You laughed and reached out and took Beary from him. "Get outta here, you goon."

"Love you, too!" Jay called as he left your room.

You fixed Beary's cap and set him down, remembering when you got the outfit for him as you stared at diagrams.

"You ready, graduate?" Jay asked as he knocked on your door.

"Jay, I swear to God if you call me graduate one more time..." you said as you opened the door.

"You'll what?" he taunted.

"You know what, I don't know, but you won't like it. Are my bobbi pins noticeable?" you asked, referring to the bobbi pins you had pinned down to keep your blue graduation cap in place.

"Nope. You're good. Ready?"

"Ready."

You walked into the kitchen, to be met with Will. And behind him on the kitchen table was a vase of blue and white flowers, which were your school colors, and Beary leaning up against said flowers, wearing a blue graduation cap and gown. Just like you.

You laughed. "I cannot believe you guys."

"Hey," Will started, "Beary got a little backpack on your first day of kindergarten. Only fair that he gets a cap and gown on your graduation."

"Did you use the gift card from Mom?" you asked, referring to the one you had found in the letters to each of you that Will had found when you were cleaning out your dad's house after he died.

"We did," Jay confirmed. "Now, I need you to hold Beary in one hand and hold this picture." He handed you a photo of you with your little backpack on and Beary with his that your mom had taken of you on the front porch on your first day of kindergarten, right before Jay had surprised you by coming home from deployment early.

"Why do I need both?" you asked curiously.

"I saw this thing on Pinterest--"

"Wait!" Will exclaimed. "You have a Pinterest?"

"No," Jay scoffed. "But Hailey does. And she sent me a picture of something she thought you should do for your graduation pictures. You hold up a picture of you on your first day of school when you were little while you're wearing your cap and gown and then I take a picture of you. Since Beary was in that picture, I thought he could be in this one, too."

You grabbed Beary and allowed him to take the pictures. Now it was time to tell the news to your mom and dad.

***

"You won't believe what Will and Jay decided they just needed to get me," you said as you stood in front of your parents' headstone with Beary hidden behind your back. Will and Jay were over by a big tree talking amongst themselves so you could have some privacy. You pulled Beary from behind your back. "They got me a cap and gown for him because they said it was only fair because Beary got a backpack on my first day of school. And, since it's my last day of school, he should get a cap and gown, too.

"Also, which one of you called Will and Jay graduate all day on the day of their graduation? Because Jay won't stop calling me that and it's kinda getting on my nerves. Pretty sure it was you, Mom."

You sighed. "I wish you guys were here. Jay told me all about how you made him a special breakfast when he graduated and then went out for lunch before the actual graduation because the senior all-nighter was after. I don't know where we're going for our senior all-nighter, but I hope it's not boring. I've heard that a few years ago, some kids said theirs was super boring. I really don't want that. But, I'm glad that I could convince Will and Jay not to be chaperones for whatever my senior all-nighter is. I love them and all, but they can be a bit too overprotective at times.

"God, you guys should be here. Dad, I know you weren't the best, but you were trying. And, I'm sure if Mom was here, she'd make sure you behaved, because Mom would say it was a big day and that you couldn't be arguing with Jay." You laughed. "I can only imagine what it would look like with Jay on one side of you, Mom, and Dad on the other and you scolding both of them for fighting. Then, they'd both probably sit back and cross their arms. And, because of this, you'd probably say that I'm your favorite child."

"Alright," Jay laughed as he and Will made their way back to you. "I think it's time to go. We don't want to miss your graduation."

"You know none of us really care about the ceremony, right?" you asked, blinking back tears so that you wouldn't mess up your makeup.

"We know. It's mostly for the parents...or in your case, brothers," Will said.

You pulled out four flowers, two blue and two white, which you had taken from the bouquet that Will had placed on the kitchen table back at home, from the pockets in your dress underneath your graduation gown. "Give me one more minute."

You placed two flowers, one of each color, on top of your Mom's name and your Dad's name on the headstone. "I thought you two should have some, too. They're my school colors." You wiped your eyes as you felt a few tears prick them. "Remember to clap for me from heaven when I walk across that stage, okay?"

You took a deep shaky breath and turned back around. Will wrapped an arm around you as the three of you walked back to Jay's truck. Beary hung from your hand. In three hours, you'll have graduated high school.

You were taken out of your thoughts by your phone ringing. It was the coffee shop you worked at. And, no, it was not the one in your apartment building. But, Jay and other members of Intelligence did sometimes come in there to pick up coffee for them and the rest of the unit. This was only because they knew they'd get the friends and family discount since you worked there. But, they usually tipped you well, so you didn't mind.

Your manager asked you to come into work because someone couldn't come in. As much as you needed to study for your biology lab practical, you needed money for college more. And, you could always go to the lab tomorrow to practice for your lab practical. You also had Will. What good was having a doctor in the family if not to help you with your science homework? So, you decided to pick up the extra shift making coffee.

***

"Voight," Hank Voight said as he answered his phone.

"Hank, it's Wallace Boden. I need you to come down to the CCU science lab right now."

"Why?"

"Because Severide just told me that the victim at Soldier Field yesterday kept chanting BRT. This place is owned by BRT Labs. And, there was a fire set."

"You're thinking arson? You know we don't investigate that, Wallace."

"I know. Office of Fire Investigation is already on it."

"But, you think that the victim yesterday and the fire today could be connected?" Voight asked.

"I think it's highly possible. All I ask is that you come down here, maybe take a look inside, do some interviews, stuff you normally would do."

"Alright. I'll grab Halstead and Upton and we'll head down there."

"Thank you."

Voight hung up his phone and turned to his team, all of whom were knee-deep in paperwork after taking off yesterday to see the Bears game...which they didn't even get to see in the end. "Chief Boden needs some of us down at the CCU lab. There could be a connection--"

"Did you say the CCU lab?" Jay asked, standing up from his chair.

"Yes, Halstead, Upton, you're with me. The rest of you, stay here. We'll let you know if we need you or you need to look up information here." Voight looked to Jay who looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Halstead, we're going."

"Y/N's at the lab."

"It's Saturday," Hailey pointed out. "There's no classes on Saturdays."

"She said she was going there to study for a test. Oh, God. What if--"

"Jay," Hailey said as she walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You just need to call or text her on the way there. She'll be okay. C'mon, let's go."

"Atwater, come with me," Voight said. "Just in case Jay's gotta go."

***

You finally took your fifteen-minute break after being swamped for a good half hour straight. Who knew so many people wanted coffee at four in the afternoon? The first thing you saw were seven missed calls and texts in all caps. They were all from Jay.

"What the hell?" you muttered as you pressed Jay's contact and brought your phone to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. "Why are you--"

"Where are you? The firefighters said they haven't seen you come out yet," he rushed out.

"I'm at work. What firefighters? What are you talking about, Jay?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows together.

"You're at work?" Jay asked. "I thought you were going to school to study?"

"I was. But, then my manager called me in. Why? What happened?"

Jay felt so much relief wash over him that he almost fell over in the grass on the CCU campus. "There was a fire in the lab."

"What? Are my friends okay? Did anyone die?" you rushed out. They weren't totally your friends, more your classmates, but you figured that was the easiest thing to call them.

"As far as I know, there weren't any fatalities."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, okay, good."

"Just do me a favor: next time your plans change, text me."

"I can't promise I can remember that."

"Figures. But, I gotta go. Stay safe."

***

"Son of a bitch!" Jay yelled and threw his phone on the couch just as you entered your apartment after finishing your closing shift at the coffee shop.

"What?" you asked as you shut the door and then set your keys down and took off your hat.

"Hailey's in quarantine," he told you. "And it's all my fault."

"What? It's your fault? How'd it even happen? Why are people being quarantined?"

"Turns out that necro thing isn't as rare as Will told us."

"Jay, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Uh, there were a bunch of people at an apartment building who got the disease, so Will and others are there looking for a thing that somebody says they saw spraying the building. Could've been this exterminator person was trying to poison people in the building," Jay told you. "And now everyone in the building is quarantined at Med."

"And Hailey was in the apartment building...?" you asked, not knowing what this had to do with Hailey.

"I had her go to a house to talk to someone who was in the lab the same time as the victim. She, uh, the girl Hailey was talking to, fell over and she had the infection and Hailey touched her.

"Hailey had a hangnail or something—at least, that's the info that Will got from Natalie, and Will passed it on to me—so now she's in quarantine at Med. If I wouldn't have told her to go check out the lead, then maybe she wouldn't be in quarantine right now."

"Jay," you started, "you can't blame yourself. If it wasn't Hailey, it would've been you. Then you'd be quarantining at Med right now. And if it wasn't you or Hailey, it would've been someone else from Intelligence and then they'd be in quarantine right now."

"How did you get so mature?"

"Trauma."

Jay's expression immediately changed. "What? Y/N, if you need someone to talk to, I can get you that."

You laughed. "Jay, chill. It's a psych major joke...even though I know I really shouldn't be joking about trauma no matter what."

"Okay, good. Do you want to watch a movie?"

"I mean, I guess. What are we watching? And, I'm gonna make popcorn, too."

"Okay. We can watch anything but Contagion," Jay told you.

"What's Contagion?"

"It's about this virus that breaks out all over a city...much like what's happening now."

"Oooh, now I want to watch it."

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

***

"Hello?" you said into the phone the next afternoon when Mama Garcia called you. Jay was out working the case, Will was trying to find a cure for this bacterial strain, and Hailey was out of quarantine because she was cleared by Natalie. So, Jay wasn't blaming himself anymore.

You quickly spoke Spanish with Mama Garcia and she asked if you could come in because they got a huge catering order last minute and she needed someone to man the cash register while she helped in the back making the order. You agreed and made your way to Mama Garcia's.

***

You were busy working the cash register and speaking Spanish with the friendly customers when you started hearing yelling outside, something about MS-13. You excused yourself and made your way to the back where Mama Garcia was working on tamales.

"They're saying something about MS-13 out there," you told her in Spanish.

"I'm going to need you to say that in English, chica," she told you. "I think you said it wrong because you just mentioned MS-13," she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"No, they're saying crazy stuff," you began. "They're chanting that you're part of MS-13. You can't hear it?"

"It's loud back here. Maybe I'll hear it if I go to the front."

She came to the front with you where some customers were leaving the building through the side entrance to get away from the mob. There weren't any customers left in the little restaurant anymore.

"Dios mio," she whispered.

There had to have been at least two dozen or more people outside all yelling and saying that she was to blame for the bacteria. Some even held signs. Some had guns or sharp objects.

You pulled out your phone. "I'm calling--"

You stopped when you heard a crash. You barely had time to register what was happening as the Molotov cocktail flew through the window and shattered everywhere, lighting the place on fire and sending shards of glass everywhere, some ending up lodged in your leg as you screamed in fear and pain.

***

The men and women of Firehouse 51 got a call of a public disturbance at Mama Garcia's. As they pulled up, they saw the Molotov cocktail fly right through the front window towards you and Mama Garcia. Casey started barking out orders and everyone sprang into action.

You were inside and the smoke was getting thicker. Whatever they made this out of actually worked. You pulled your shirt up to your nose and mouth to try and stop inhaling it, but it didn't work very well.

You had been in front of Mama Garcia at the time it was thrown through the window, so you took most of the glass shards. This caused you so much pain that it was hard for you to move through the kitchen and to the door to get out.

"Fire department! Call out!" you heard Stella yell as you kept trying to walk toward the back door.

"Here!" you yelled.

"Fire department! Call out!"

"Back here! Help! Help!"

You heard heavy footsteps coming toward you and then you saw a firefighter and you felt a hand wrap around you.

"Hang on. You're gonna get out of here." Stella. "Casey," she said into her radio. "I need some help in here. Female victim, trouble walking, in the back in what looks like the kitchen."

"Copy. Coming in, Kidd."

About thirty seconds later you were picked up and told to close your eyes. You did, and it was only when you finally got outside, did Truck 81 realize who they had rescued.

***

Will was currently working in the lab trying to find an antidote to this terrible outbreak. But, something about Dr. Seldon was suspicious. He wasn't a detective like his younger brother, but he still trusted his gut.

Dr. Seldon hadn't noticed that Will was still in the lab when he started pouring chemicals into the samples. Now Will knew something was most definitely wrong.

"What are you doing?" he asked loudly, startling Dr. Seldon.

"Oh, these are contaminated samples," he answered easily like he had rehearsed what he was going to say.

Will pointed directly at him. "No. You know what? You need to stay right here."

Then, Seldon threw a punch and Will caught it easily. But, then Seldon hit him again in the stomach. In the split second that Will was doubled over, Seldon picked up a microscope and cold-cocked Will right over the head, causing him to fall to the ground as everything went black and he clutched his bleeding head.

***

Hailey was now back in the bullpen after being quarantined because she got checked out and everything was fine. She had to tell Jay to stop apologizing and that it wasn't his fault he had gotten into that mess.

"That's a blue hat, right before 2:00," Ruzek said as he looked at the security footage.

"Wait, I know this guy," Jay started. "He works at the CCU lab." His eyes widened as he realized what was going on. "He's with Will. We gotta go now!"

As Jay was sprinting out of the bullpen, his phone started ringing.

"Man, your phone!" Adam yelled.

"Just let it go to voice-mail!" Jay yelled as he ran down the stairs, not knowing that it was Casey calling him to let him know that they had pulled you out of a fire and you were currently being treated at Med.

***

You rubbed your eyes as you woke up a few hours later. You didn't know if it was the meds the nurse gave you to knock you out so she could pull the shards of glass out of your body or if it was from a combination of smoke inhalation and tiredness. Whatever the reason, you were awake now.

You turned to see your brothers and were very confused to see that Will was holding an ice pack to his head and Jay looked like he had gotten new stitches in his forearm.

"The hell--" You roughly cleared your throat. "The hell happened to you two?"

"We found the guy," Jay told you. "But, not before he cold-cocked Will over the head with a microscope."

"Who was he?" you asked.

"A professor at CCU. Dr. Seldon."

"I've heard of him. I think he only teaches graduate classes though, so I'd never end up being in one of his classes anyway. I'm assuming he's not teaching anymore?"

"Not a chance in hell," Jay confirmed. "If he wants to teach, he can teach all the other prisoners at Stateville."

"What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, you know him," Will began. "He's always putting other people's safety in front of his own like the idiot he is." Jay thought about smacking his older brother upside the head but decided against it only because he had just been hit in the head. "He decided that he'd rather be infected with the bacteria instead of the people in a conference room where Seldon was. So, he cut himself."

"You what? Do you have the bacteria?" you asked as your eyes widened in fear.

"No, I don't. Hailey shot in there to distract him and then I disarmed him. Will came in with the antidote anyway, but luckily we didn't need to use it."

"If Hailey got paid overtime every time she saved your ass, she'd never have to work again."

"Tell me about it," Jay agreed.

"Now, what happened to you?" Will asked. "Casey told us you were at Mama Garcia's?"

"Yeah, she called and asked me to run the front since she needed to be in the back to help work on a catering order. I went in and an hour later, there were all these protesters outside calling her a member of MS-13 and saying she started the outbreak."

"How?" Jay wondered. "Mama Garcia's like the sweetest lady alive."

"I don't know. Because people online are crazy? And then someone threw a flaming bottle of something through the window."

"And that's how the glass got in your leg?" Will asked. You nodded. "Well, the good news is that Maggie told me the damage was artificial. The reason you passed out was because of smoke inhalation. They gave you some oxygen and you're good to go once you're ready."

"Then why don't I have one of those nose thingies in?" you asked.

"A nasal cannula?" Will chuckled. You nodded. "It's because you slept long enough with it on that your oxygen is back up. And, the paramedics gave you oxygen, too. That's why you don't need it. Your levels are back to normal."

"Oh. Okay."

"You want your discharge paperwork?" Will asked.

"Yeah, Jay's gotta fill it out."

"Nope. You are not a minor anymore. So, you get to fill out your own paperwork."

You groaned as he handed you the clipboard with the paperwork on it. Now you knew why both Jay and Will hated paperwork so much. There was so much even for one little thing!

"You know, I think since you've achieved frequent flyer status at Med," Will began, "that Beary needs a hospital gown, too."

"No! Don't you dare!"

"Just write it down and give it to her for Christmas," Jay joked. But honestly, when it came to that bear and presents, you never knew if either of them was joking or not.

Everything seemed back to normal at that moment: Jay and Will joking about your Build-A-Bear, you and Jay constantly being in the hospital for whatever reason and life. Life was back to normal after this crazy weekend that had everyone in Chicago on edge and you couldn't be happier.

A/N: Idk how I feel about this one. There was so much going on in that crossover, that it was hard for me to figure out what I wanted to focus on...so, it turned into a shorter imagine. Anyway, thank you guys so, so much for reading! I also start my new job tomorrow, so updates might be a little less frequent (one or two a week, depending on how long the imagines are and how much I have to work). Anyway, please like/reblog and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

156 notes · View notes

cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years ago

Note

So Jon and Sansa both see a crime being commited and become prime witnesses to arrest this big crime mastermind (Petyr? Or maybe Tywin?) and they have to go to witness protection... Only witness protection makes them pretend to be a married couple when they actually don't know each other. Does that sparkle something in that brilliant brain of yours as a prompt?

Look I'm in a Mood™ today and wrote this in a weird fugue state so don't @ meeeeee. I also like barely edited this so who knows if it makes sense, and grammar? I barely know her.

Also, I don’t really know how to do trigger warning tags, so this is my warning that there are vague mentions of blood/gore/violence.

Sometimes when she wakes up, she forgets.

But then she looks around the room that isn't her room and she has to tell herself that it is. This is her room. This is her home. That is her husband downstairs making breakfast.

(And sometimes she wakes up unable to breathe, the dreams are so real; the blood and brains and pieces of skull spraying the wall in front of her, the sounds of men pleading for their lives. The strong arm wrapped around her, one hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, the only thing that kept her still and quiet and hidden under the desk, the only reason she's alive. He's downstairs making breakfast.)

….

If there was ever a place to get lost, she thinks, it's here.

She stares out the window of her house, the same as every other house on the street. Row after row of identical houses. Neighborhoods of them, the suburbs stretching on forever. They've been here for two months and she doesn't even know her neighbor's names. The one across the street is Edmond, she thinks. Maybe. Edmure? No, if it were Edmure, she would remember, because of-

(But Alayne Stone doesn't have an Uncle Edmure.)

“I'm headed out.”

She turns to look at her husband.

“Have a good day,” she calls, just like she does every day. She watches him walk out to their nondescript grey sedan, just like he does every day. He backs it out of the driveway, then drives west, towards the main road.

…

They don't talk about before.

He is Aemon Stone. They met in college, in a geography course that they both almost failed, and they fell in love. They just got married and moved here - not that any of their neighbors have asked, so she's only had to tell that story to her new coworkers at the craft store.

They're trying to start a family.

(Jon, she thinks his name is, she remembers the agents calling him that, before they were handed folders with their new lives inside. But Jon is not her husband. Aemon is.)

…

Sometimes she likes to think she's a hero, giving up her whole world just to take down the bad guy. She's a hero, a martyr, the protagonist of her own daydreams. Her actions will save the lives of countless others.

(The reality is that she had no choice. They gave her one, technically, she doesn't have to testify against Petyr Baelish, but they all knew there was no choice. If she stayed, he would've found her. He would have killed her and anyone she could have possibly told about what she saw. She knows Aemon had no choice, either, and sometimes she wonders what he gave up. But they don't talk about before.)

…

She tries not to let her mind wander too much, but it's hard not to. Her life is routine. Mundane. She makes friends with her coworkers but she can't – she won't– let them get too close.

The problem with all her free, mundane time is that it gives her space to think – gives her time to regret.

She remembers that weekend, remembers thinking what harm could it do? Remembers thinking the bachelorette party sounded so fun. Remembers taking cash out to play the slot machines, ordering drink after drink until she felt numb.

It all goes a bit fuzzy after that. No matter how hard she tries, she can never remember how she got into the back halls of the casino, to the places where guests aren't allowed. She remembers a strange man kissing her, large, with scarring across his face, who told her that a pretty bird like her shouldn't be back here and demanded a kiss as payment. She remembers running, running, running.

If only she hadn't run.

If she hadn't run, she wouldn't have found herself in that room. She wouldn't have heard the door opening, turned around to see him, watched his face twist in horror when he saw her. He wouldn't have had to tell her get down, hide.

She remembers not being able to move, frozen to the spot at the sight of the gun at his hip. She remembers the way he'd pulled her down under the desk, one arm around her waist to keep her still, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, just in time, just before the door opened again.

(And she remembers the men who came in right after, the gruff where the fuck did Rivers get to?)

…

She's seen the tattoo.

(She doesn't think she was supposed to. Aemon Stone shouldn't have a tattoo.)

They try not to get in each other's way – he works days, she works closings. She sleeps in the master bed, he sleeps in a guest room down the hall. He wakes up early and makes breakfast and leaves her a plate. She eats while he goes for a run. But every once in a while...

That day he'd been coming back from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. She's never upstairs when he takes a shower, but she had gotten the urge to read, for the first time in months, and had gone up to grab one of the books that came with the house when she ran into him in the hall.

And there, on his chest, right above his heart, the mockingbird tattoo.

(Aemon Stone is her husband. He is not one of them.)

(But Jon Snow was.)

…

She probably should be scared, but she can never find it in her to be. Their handlers wouldn't have put them in the same house if they thought he'd hurt her.

(He's the reason she's alive. His arm around her waist, his hand over her mouth. Get down. Hide.)

…

Sometimes she wants to ask – why?

Why did he hide her?

Why is he here?

He was one of them, there's a tattoo on his chest that proves it.

Why did he save her? Give up everything for her to live?

…

She slips, once.

She's at work, in the break room, heating up a mug of soup in their tiny, low watt microwave. The break room TV is on, the news is playing, and then he's there.

Petyr Baelish, donating a giant check to an orphanage. Everyone's clapping and cheering him on and all she can hear are the screams of two men, pleading for their lives. Begging Petyr Baelish to stop. (They had wives and children and their screams echo in her head and-)

“Alayne?” her coworker, Myranda, shakes her arm. “I think your food's done?”

She's shaking so hard that the soup sloshes over the side of her mug and she apologizes as she cleans it up and Myranda asks if she's sick or something. She has to go home early because she vomits into the break room trash can.

At home, Aemon is watching football on TV and he's surprised when she comes home early. All he says is, “everything ok?” and she knows what he's asking.

“Everything's ok,” she tells him and he nods and she goes upstairs.

They don't talk about the past, but they don't talk about the present, either.

(And they definitely don't talk about the future.)

…

There's one time she doesn't wake up confused or breathless.

She wakes up screaming.

In her dream, he finds her. In her dream, Petyr Baelish walks around the desk and bends down and reaches under and pulls her out. In her dream, he tortures her like he did those men. In her dream, he puts a gun to her head, just like he did-

She wakes up screaming.

The door to her room slams open and she takes a gasping breath and looks up at her husband, standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in his hand. His hair is wild and his eyes are wide as they search her room and she tries to tell him it's all in her head but she can't make her voice work. When she tries, the words just come out as a small sob and she watches his tensed shoulders relax and he sets down the baseball bat.

She curls into herself and cries into her bent knees – for her dreams and her fears and the knowledge that this might never end. It's a choking, clawing abyss in her chest that's been growing as the days and weeks and months slide by – that she will never see her family again. She'll never eat mom's cooking or hear her dad yell at the TV when his team loses or see Robb's infectious smile or argue with Arya or talk about philosophy with Bran or watch one of Rickon's basketball games. She'll never get to play with Lady again.

She has kept them locked away inside her, tried to forget about them because Alayne Stone doesn't have a family.

The bed dips and she lets out another gasping sob as she feels an arm settle around her shoulders. “Alayne,” he says, and then again. Again and again, until - “Sansa.”

“I'm not Sansa,” she whispers when she finally looks up.

“Sometimes you need to be,” he says, his voice is steady and he brings one hand up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “It's hard, not everyone can just change who they are. Especially not like this.”

“You say that like you're some expert,” she sniffs, wiping at her cheeks now that her tears have slowed. She feels like a mess – her eyes feel hot and puffy, her nose feels raw, her throat is sore, but she also feels more human than she has in months.

He hesitates, seems to think hard about something before - “Aemon Stone isn't the first person I've had to become.” She jerks back a bit, but she doesn't pull away.

(He saved her life.)

“Who else?”

“Before this, I was Aegon Rivers.”

“I thought your name was Jon Snow? That's what they called you.”

“Jon Snow,” he says, voice low and soothing and she feels herself relax, settles into the warmth of his arms a bit more, “is a federal agent who went undercover with the Mockingbirds two years ago.”

She looks at him, then – really looks at him. At his grey eyes and his long face and his black hair wild from sleep, at the scar that runs through his eyebrow and the dark stubble that he meticulously shaves off every morning.

“Jon Snow fits you better,” she tells him.

“And Sansa Stark fits you.”

“I'm not Sansa Stark anymore,” she reminds him again, feeling her voice waver, though she thought she was past it. “This was just a bad dream, I promise I'll do better.”

“Like I said, sometimes it's hard,” he tells her. “And sometimes it's easy to forget who you are.”

“Is it for you?” she asks. He doesn't answer, but she thinks he doesn't need to, she can see it in him and she wonders how much of Jon Snow he remembers. Two years is a long time to be someone else. “I don't...” her voice breaks and she has to drop into a whisper. “I don't want to forget them. I know I have to-”

“What if,” he cuts in when her words fail her completely, “what if we're Jon Snow and Sansa Stark here?”

“They told us we-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I don't mean... not in the house. Not during the day. But how about, once a week, at night, when it's just us, when the rest of the world is sleeping – I'll come in here and just for an hour, we can remember.”

The words make her ache and she nods and looks over at her clock. One hour – one hour to remember who she is and where she comes from. One hour to talk about anything and everything – about the past and the present and the future. It's not a lot and it's a risk and against the rules, but-

“Yes. Please.”

He nods and looks a bit grim and she wonders, once again – why? She doesn't think he wants to talk about Jon Snow. He's doing it for her – he's saving her life again and she still doesn't know why. Maybe she'll find out, some day.

“Ok,” he breathes, like he's jumping off the deep end, “Sansa Stark – what's your favorite color?”

#jonsa #prompt fic #also once again i cannot keep these under 2k words #mentions of violence and blood

79 notes · View notes

specialagentsergio · 4 years ago

Text

wish i were

summary: Emily’s back where she belongs, but she’s learning that you can’t come back from the dead the same as you were before. Spencer’s reeling from betrayal and broken trust. Then there’s you—their safe port in the storm. But you’re not okay either, and you have a choice to make.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader (unrequited), emily prentiss x f!reader

category: angst

content warnings: lots of swearing, mentions of/implied sex, mentions of vomiting (nothing descriptive), fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, bittersweet ending

a/n: it’s finally here. thank you all for your patience. i wasn’t planning on posting angst and unrequited love on valentine’s day, but i don’t want to wait another day to post this; i’m kinda sick of looking at it tbh. anyways, i hope you enjoy it and it lives up to your expectations. sorry it’s so long. apparently i have a lot to say.

word count: 8.7k

series masterlist || masterlist

Ten weeks ago.

“Absolutely not,” Emily croaks out. Her voice is rough and broken from the breathing tube, and it hurts her throat to speak, but she ignores it. “No. I won’t do it.”

She can hardly believe what she’s hearing. She’s only been awake for a few hours and she’s already fed up with the bullshit the world is throwing at her. Right now, it’s in the form of her boss asking her to fake her own death. “You can’t seriously think this is an acceptable solution.”

Hotch is unreadable, his unit chief face firmly in place. “It’s for your own safety.”

Emily scoffs, then immediately winces at the pain that shoots through her midsection. But she continues. “So put me in a safe house or something. I’m not making my friends bury me.”

“It’s for their safety as well,” he replies. “Doyle’s still out there. He’s targeted them before. You know he’ll do it again to get to you if he finds out you’re alive.”

“Then let them in on this,” she argues. “They can keep a secret.”

His expression slips—just a little bit, but she sees it. It’s hesitance.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” she asks, a feeling of dread settling over her. “I want to see her. I’m not making a decision like this without her.”

Hotch folds his arms over his chest. “It’s not your decision to make, Emily,” he says quietly. “It’s already done.”

Her breath catches in her throat. She looks him up and down, searching desperately for any sign that he’s lying, that this is all just some cruel joke, that any second now you’ll be walking through the door, a smile on your face—

There are none.

Her lungs burn and she’s forced to take in a breath. “You son of a bitch,” she whispers. “You... son of a bitch. How dare you? How dare you.”

He doesn’t so much as flinch as her voice increases in volume, which only serves to make her angrier.

“How fucking dare you! You let me see (Y/N) right now, you bastard!”

The door opens—her heart leaps—

It’s JJ, who, if Hotch is to be believed, is the only other one to know about this. JJ hurries to her side and reaches out, but Emily yanks her arm away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snarls. “You—” Her eyes land on the water pitcher on the table in front of her and she lunges forward, the searing pain it causes barely registering. She seizes it and throws it with all the force she can muster.

Hotch doesn’t move out of the way, letting it hit his chest and soak the front of his clothing. Its accompanying cup follows, then the TV remote. It’s not until she grabs the vase of flowers that he ducks out of the way. The glass shatters on the floor. All the while, she’s screaming obscenities at him.

JJ tries in vain to calm her down, holding up her hands placatingly. “Emily, please—”

“Don’t talk to me!” she yells. “You have the audacity to come in here and speak to me when you know I’m alive and my girlfriend doesn’t!”

“Emily!” Her voice is stern. “I understand you’re upset—”

“Don’t use your fucking mom voice on me, Jennifer, I’m not a fucking child—”

“What’s going on in here?” A pair of nurses enter the room, no doubt drawn by the commotion.

“She’s bleeding,” JJ answers immediately. “I think she might have aggravated something when she sat up.”

“She’s not supposed to be sitting up at all. What did you two do?” one of the nurses scolds.

“She just got some bad news—”

“Well, isn’t that a nice way to put it!” The nurses are trying to coax her into laying back down, but Emily resists it. “A really great way to describe the two of you trying to force me into letting my family and girlfriend think I’m dead!”

“I think some of the stitches tore,” the second nurse says.

“Go get the doctor,” the first one instructs an orderly standing in the doorway.

Movement catches Emily’s eye and she looks towards it to see Hotch taking a step backwards.

“Don’t you dare leave!” she screams. “I’m not done with you, you motherf—”

“Agent, please, you need to lie back.”

“And you two need to leave,” the older of the nurses says.

Then there’s a third person at her side. Judging by the white coat, it’s the doctor. “What’s the problem?” he asks them.

“She’s agitated and we think some stitches might have burst.”

“Damn right I’m agitated!” Emily cries. “They’re trying to—I—” She looks past the doctor to find that JJ and Hotch are gone.

“Emily, we’re going to give you something to help you relax,” he tells her.

Her vision goes blurry and she can’t figure out why until she feels the tears sliding down her cheeks. She lets the nurses push her back now and her head thumps against the pillow. “Please—” she chokes on a sob. “Please, I want to see my girlfriend.”

“What’s her name?” the doctor asks kindly.

“(Y/N). We’ve been together for almost a year. I need…” Her limbs are starting to feel heavy. “I need to call her, or—or something. She thinks… she thinks….”

“Shh, you’re okay,” one of the nurses soothes. “You’re going to be okay.”

Emily blinks slowly and shakes her head. “But she won’t be. She…”

The world fades to black.

---

There are tear stains on your pillowcase.

That’s the first thing Emily notices when she walks into your bedroom. She recognizes them so quickly because similar ones were on her pillows in Paris.

“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to run the sheets through the wash,” you say when you notice her looking.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” She sets her bag on the bedside table, careful to jostle Sergio as little as possible. He’s in her arms, pressed against her chest and purring loudly. He definitely remembers her—she’d been a little worried that he wouldn’t.

Emily is absolutely exhausted. It has been a very long day. Doyle is dead, Declan is safe, and now all she wants to do is take a nice, hot shower and curl up in bed with you. But you haven’t been able to keep eye contact with her for more than a few moments at a time.

She expected something like this to happen. She knew once the relief of seeing her alive wore off, there was going to be a heap of more, uglier emotions surfacing.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

You glance up at her just briefly, busying yourself with stripping off the pillowcases and replacing them with a clean set. “I don’t know what to say, Emily,” you sigh. “I just… I don’t.”

She strokes Sergio’s back a couple of times to calm herself before replying. “You can say anything. You’ve been through so much, and I… I’m not going to hold what you’re feeling against you.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”

It confirms her suspicions. “(Y/N), you’re allowed to be mad at me,” she says. “Hell, you could even yell at me if you wanted to and I’d be okay with it.”

You snort. “I don’t want to yell at you. But, um, could I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“Okay. Well…” You shuffle from one foot to the other. “I’m… not really sure how to ask this, but, how… how did this happen?”

Your voice is hesitant. You’re holding back, but Emily can read between the lines. “You mean, how could I let you think I was dead?” she corrects softly.

You breathe in sharply and wrap your arms around yourself. Your eyes are wet when you look up at her and nod.

Emily tries not to let her next words come out too fast, lest it seem like she’s dismissing your feelings or making excuses. “I didn’t get a choice.” Her voice cracks and she clears her throat. “When I came to after surgery, the funeral had already been held.”

Your mouth drops open. You stare at her for a few seconds, then blink several times. Your eyes move around, focused on nothing in particular as you try to process what she’s just told you. Eventually, they settle on the bedroom door behind her. “I’m gonna punch his face,” you whisper.

Emily can’t stop the genuine laugh that bubbles out of her. “Yeah, Hotch heard similar things from me.”

“Oh my god, Em,” you breathe out, and her heart skips a beat at the nickname. “That must have been awful.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun,” she admits. “But at least I knew you were alive and that I’d see you again someday. It can’t come close to what you went through.”

You shake your head. “This isn’t the suffering Olympics. It was harder for you in some ways than it was for me, I’m sure. Like, if I was waking up after being stabbed, I’d want my girlfriend there holding my hand.”

Emily’s eyes prick with tears as she listens to you, remembering how it felt to be at the hospital without you there to hold her hand through all the scary bits. But you? You had buried her, and now you’re here considering how Emily had felt throughout all this. She’s not sure if you’re actively trying to make her fall even more in love with you, but if you are, you’re succeeding.

“I can’t promise to never be mad at you about this,” you continue, “but I’ll take being mad at you for actually being alive rather than being mad at you for dying.”

“That’s… really mature of you,” she observes.

“I started seeing a therapist a few days after the funeral,” you say with a shrug. “Can you put Sergio down and help me change the bed sheets?”

She nods and places him gently on the floor. She’s about to ask why you’re wanting to change them right now, when you’re clearly just as exhausted as she is, when she finds a tie wedged between the top and fitted sheets at the foot of the bed. She frowns as she lifts it up—it’s not one she recognizes as yours or hers, but she does think she’s seen it before.

“Oh, so that’s where that went,” you say.

“I don’t remember you having a tie like this. Is it new?”

“It’s Spencer’s,” you clarify.

“Oh. What… what’s it doing in your bed?” she asks hesitantly.

“He would stay over sometimes when I couldn’t sleep and he’s too long—“ you spread your hands apart “—for either of the couches.”

“I see.” Emily smooths out the wrinkles in the fabric and crosses the room to put it on top of the dresser, trying to tamp down the sting of jealousy. The other side of your bed is supposed to be hers.

“Nothing happened,” you say and she realizes she’s frowning.

“I know,” she replies, and she does—she just wishes it had been her in the bed with you. But you’ve at least given her a good lead-in for her surprise. “Anyways, you wouldn’t have even had the time with the amount of online Scrabble you were playing.”

Now it’s your turn to frown. “How do you know about that?”

The corner of her mouth turns up. “I was there for every game, sergio2010.”

It takes you a moment to put it together. “You’re cheetobreath?” you ask. “I thought that was JJ.”

“It was her idea,” Emily says. “And that’s what you were supposed to think.”

Your reaction delights her—you start laughing. “That’s ridiculous!”

“I had to stick it to Hotch somehow,” she defends, barely holding back her own laughter.

You shake your head fondly as you finish tucking in the fresh sheets. Emily helps you spread the comforter back over the bed and return the pillows to their spots. She isn’t sure what to do after that, though, and nervously clasps her hands in front of her. You’re silent for a few seconds, watching her from across the bed.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” you say eventually.

“Um, okay,” she replies. “But you know, I could go stay at a hotel instead if you’d prefer.”

You shake your head. “You’re gonna join me.”

“Ah.” Emily swallows, part nervous, part thrilled. “That’s… I mean, yeah. Okay.”

You hold out your hand in invitation; she circles the bed and takes it.

After, when you’re both clean and settled into bed, she pulls you as close to her as she can. “This is so nice,” you sigh into her skin. “You’re so soft, Em.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Um, thank you?”

“Spencer’s bony,” you explain.

Emily snorts. “Yeah, I know. I fell asleep on his shoulder on the jet a few years ago and it was painful.”

You giggle. “Did you know he talks in his sleep?”

“Morgan’s mentioned it. You learn anything else when you were snuggled up with him?” she teases, running her fingers through your damp hair.

“It wasn’t like that,” you protest. “We didn’t snuggle. I’d just kind of… press my forehead on his arm and one leg against his.” Your voice lowers as you continue, “I just really missed being close to someone.”

“I did, too,” she whispers back. “I wish it had been me, but I’m glad you had him.”

You nod against her in agreement. “I love you, Emily,” you say, briefly tightening your grip on her.

“I love you, too,” she replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “So much.”

You drift off to sleep quickly, and she’s not far behind.

It’s the best sleep she’s had in months.

---

Spencer’s barely heard from you since the hearing last week.

He’d gotten plenty of texts from Jennifer (all of which he ignored), but only a few from you. That’s probably normal for most adult friends, but not for you two, especially so when the fact that you were the only two people not to apply for reinstatement to the BAU is taken into consideration. He thought that he’d be able to seriously talk about it with you, to share his feelings and maybe work it out together. But all he had gotten was a brief message:

Emily was reinstated, so I’m going back, too.

It left him frustrated, but when it came down to it, he understood—he was the same. Since you were going back, so was he.

On Monday morning, everyone’s first day back together, he gets off the elevator and is immediately confronted with the last person he wants to see.

“Hey, where have you been? I wanted to do brunch this weekend,” Jennifer says.

Spencer barely resists rolling his eyes, instead keeping them fixed on the file he’s holding. “I had to deal with some stuff with my mom.” It’s not a lie—he did have to check in with his mom. It just didn’t take as long as he’s implying. “Have you seen Garcia?”

“Uh, she’s with Rossi,” Jennifer answers, and she sounds startled by his behavior, but he doesn’t care. You’re at your desk, and as he passes by, he takes your arm.

“Wha—Spencer?” You’re taken aback, but you let him pull you along and into a file room.

“What?” you repeat when he turns to you after closing the door.

He tucks the file into his bag, the folds his arms over his chest. “I barely heard from you last week.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “Well, yeah, I’ve been busy,” you say. “Emily’s moving in with me so we’ve been taking her things out of storage and to my apartment to unpack.”

Spencer glances away, trying to ignore the stab of jealousy in his chest. Just two weeks ago, he was in your bed and he’s quickly been replaced. And sure, he knows you don’t feel that way about him, but it was easy to pretend you did when you were asleep right next to him. “Not busy enough to make a decision about work,” he points out.

“So?”

“You’re the only other one who didn’t apply for reinstatement to the unit,” he replies. “You’d think that would be something for us to talk about.”

“You never said you wanted to,” you say, giving him a little shrug.

He doesn’t resist the eye roll this time. Does Spencer know he’s being a bit unfair? Yes. Does he care? Not particularly. No one bothered to seriously check in with him last week. He wasn’t expecting everyone to, but he was expecting it from you. He’s only been at work for five minutes, but his emotions are already running high, and he doesn’t care to reign them in. “I didn’t think I’d have to.”

“You should’ve. I can’t read your mind.” Now you’re getting defensive. “And what does it matter, anyways? You’re not my boyfriend; I don’t have to run my decisions past you.”

“I know that,” he snaps. He really could have done without hearing you say that. “I’m just there to warm up your bed when you’re lonely is all, huh?”

You’re shocked for only a moment before pivoting to anger. “I didn’t make you do anything. You could’ve said no. And I certainly don’t owe you anything from it.”

“Clearly,” he mutters.

You heave an angry sigh. “Look, I know you’re mad about the whole thing, but don’t take it out on me. I don’t know why you’re so surprised that I wanted to spend the past week catching up with my girlfriend after thinking she was dead for ten weeks. If you wanted to talk, you should’ve said so. Stop being such an ass.”

Spencer doesn’t answer. You’re right, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it. He just looks down at the floor, avoiding your glare.

When it becomes clear to you that he has no intention of responding, you mutter, “whatever” under your breath and duck behind him, walking out of the door and leaving him alone again.

---

The case has been miserable.

In rural Oklahoma, their unsub is burning his victims with acid. Not the worst they’ve seen, but not pleasant, either—this job never is.

You’re still mad at him, which is bad enough, but he’s also had to watch you be far more… touchy with Emily than you ever were before. It’s not super apparent—you still keep it professional at the local P.D. and when you’re out on work assignments, but you’re going out of your way to find any excuse to touch her that you can outside of that.

Then there’s the motel they’re staying at and its thin walls. He heard a few things last night from your room next door. It was quickly followed by shushes, but he heard enough to infer what was going on. So he’d dug his noise-canceling headphones out of his bag. It had been a good solution at the time, but then he’d fallen asleep with them on. As a result, he’d slept with his neck at an odd angle. It’s midday now and it’s still aching.

To top it all off, there’s Jennifer. He’s been trying to keep his distance from her, and had thought the snide remarks he hadn’t been able to hold back might encourage her to stay away. But she keeps pressing the issue, and when she tells him she thinks he’s mad about micro-expressions, he can’t hold it back anymore.

“You think it’s about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen, the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

She protests, so he brings up Dilaudid. He knows it’s a low blow, and that she still feels guilty about them splitting up all those years ago, leading to his abduction and subsequent problem, but he doesn’t care. He just wants her to hurt like he is.

The team is staring and Emily says his name, but he just tells Jennifer that it’s too late to be sorry and leaves without another word.

Outside, he sits on the curb in front of one of the SUVs and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He’s not alone for long, though. Just a few minutes later, he hears footsteps coming from behind him. The sound that involuntarily comes out of his throat can only be described as a growl.

“God, Jennifer, what do I have to do to get you to understand that I want you to leave me the fuck alone!” he nearly yells.

But it’s not Jennifer that answers. “It’s me,” you say softly.

Spencer sighs. He drops his hands from his face but doesn’t open his eyes. “What?”

“Can I sit?”

He’s not sure he wants to be around anyone, but it’s hard for him to say no to you. “Sure,” he says dully.

You join him on the curb, but keep a few feet of space between you. You don’t say anything, though, just sit quietly, letting him make the first move.

“How are you okay?” he asks eventually.

“What?” You sound incredulous. “I’m not sure where you got that idea. I’m so mad at Hotch that I can barely breathe when I’m in the same room as him.”

Spencer considers this for a moment, recalling when everyone’s been in the same room during this case. He realizes that since he’s been preoccupied with you touching Emily and trying to avoid Jennifer, he’s missed how you tense up whenever you see Hotch, and that you keep him out of your eyesight whenever possible.

“But you’re fine with Emily,” he observes. That does honestly confuse him, because he’s mad at Emily as well. And if it had been you in her place? He’s not sure he’d ever be able to forgive you, even without you knowing the way he feels about you.

“For the most part,” you say. “I still feel a little mad at her sometimes, but it helps me to remember that it wasn’t her fault.”

He finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Being alive in Paris and not telling you isn’t her fault?”

“She didn’t really get a choice. When she woke up after surgery, the funeral had already happened,” you explain. “Hotch made the decision without her.”

“Hmm.” He files that information away to think over later. “And Jennifer?”

You shrug. “I can’t be too mad at her, since she did so much for me during those weeks.”

He snorts. “Yeah, out of guilt.”

“Probably, yes,” you concede. “But not having to pack up Emily’s things and take them to storage myself, feeding Sergio and bringing him to stay with me, bringing me hot meals when I was surviving off of cereal alone because I could barely get out of bed, let alone cook for myself… it went a long way.”

On the one hand, it’s a bit comforting for him to hear how Jennifer helped the woman he loves. On the other, she could have ended your pain with three words—Emily is alive—but she didn’t. She let the woman he loves suffer the pain of the loss of a partner.

And she sure didn’t bring him hot meals.

This shouldn’t surprise you, Spencer. You’ve always been the afterthought. The burden. You should be used to this by now.

He clenches the fabric of his pants in his hands. “That doesn’t make me any less angry,” he mutters.

“That’s fine.”

“You can’t expect me to just—wait, what?”

“That’s fine,” you repeat. “I’m not trying to tell you to just get over it or whatever because she was nice to me. Like Em told me, you’re allowed to be mad.”

Spencer bites his lip, resisting the urge to ask you to stop calling her Em. You’re the only one that calls her that—or rather, is allowed to call her that, and it’s obvious why. It’s also similar enough to you calling him Spence that he’ll always start comparing himself to Emily when he hears it, and he’s been trying to stop doing that for months.

“Maybe you just, I don’t know,” you continue, drawing him out of his thoughts. “You could just try to be a little less passive aggressive with JJ?”

He opens his mouth, about to flat-out refuse, but before he can, you tack on, “For me? Just a little bit?”

God damn it.

“Only if she stops bothering me,” he says bluntly.

“Yeah, she, um… she was crying when I left, so I think she’s got the message now,” you say quietly.

He feels a bit guilty upon hearing that, but not enough to apologize, or even really regret it. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it, he rationalizes to himself. She’s the one who decided to push it anyways.

After a few moments of silence, you reach out and pat his knee. “I love you, you know.”

He knows what you mean, knows that you don’t mean it like that, but his heart still skips a beat. He responds to you with a nod.

You push yourself to your feet, tell him to take all the time he needs, and you’ll see him when he’s ready to come back in, then walk away.

When he’s certain you’re out of earshot, he whispers back, “I love you, too.”

---

Emily sits down across from him on the plane, and Spencer is immediately reminded of the morning after he caught you and her together. That time, Emily had folded her hands in front of her on the table. This time, she slides something across it to him. He looks up from his book and sees his missing tie, wrinkles ironed out and folded neatly.

“It was in her bed,” she explains when his brow furrows.

Spencer wonders if that made Emily jealous.

He’s not a good enough person to not hope it did.

“Thanks,” he mutters, putting it away in his bag.

Emily’s quiet, but she doesn’t leave. She must have something else to say. He sighs. “What is it?”

“Are you going to Rossi’s house tomorrow night?” she asks.

He looks back down to his book. “I don’t know. I’m not so sure I can make it.”

“Okay. Well, Reid, you can be mad at me for as long as you need to. I’m okay with that.”

Spencer frowns. He kind of wishes she wasn’t being so nice and understanding. It makes it harder to be upset with her, and he wants to be upset with her.

“I’d like to say something to you, though, if that’s okay,” she says.

He reluctantly looks back up. “What?”

Emily holds his gaze. “Thank you,” she says earnestly.

He blinks. “Uh, for what?”

Her voice wavers slightly with emotion as she speaks. “For looking out for her when I couldn’t.”

His eyes drift away from Emily and to the couch where you’re sleeping. “My pleasure,” he replies quietly. When he looks back at Emily, she has a curious look on her face.

For the first time, instead of panicking over keeping his secret, instead of shying away, Spencer looks right back at her. A few seconds later, he thinks he sees a flash of realization in her eyes, but it’s so quick he can’t be sure.

“Well, thank you,” she repeats, and takes her leave. He watches as she leans down and tucks the blanket closer around you. He closes his eyes, leans back in his seat, and imagines a world where he was the one adjusting it instead.

---

“You’re gonna go weeks, months even, feeling fine. And then you’re gonna have a bad day.”

Emily can barely get the hotel room door open, her hands are shaking so much. A bad day. What Hotch called it, she thinks, was a bit of an understatement.

She’s just come back from taking a witness statement to help wrap up the piano man case—or rather, she was trying to take one.

“I was told that you would only give your statement to me.”

“Why didn’t you let me pull the trigger?” Regina asks.

“Because you would be in prison.” Emily understands why Regina is mad at her, and she’s fine with taking the brunt of it. Lying to her to stop her from shooting the unsub was the right thing to do. “I know it’s hard--”

“No, you don’t. You have no idea what it’s like…” Regina pauses briefly, anger radiating off of her. “When the monster from your nightmares comes back for you.”

Emily breaks eye contact and looks down. She knows exactly what that’s like.

Regina recognizes it. “Wait--”

Redirect, redirect, redirect. “Look, I’m here as a courtesy--”

“Something happened to you.”

“So do you want to give me your statement or not?”

But Regina is relentless. “What did you do to him, huh? Did you arrest him like a good FBI agent? Or did you kill him?”

Emily sits down heavily on the spare bed, drawing your attention away from packing up your things for the flight home. “Em?”

She just shakes her head, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and closing her eyes. “It was the right thing,” she whispers to herself. “It was the right thing. I did the right thing.”

You sit down next to her and place your hand on her back. “What happened?”

Emily swallows hard, feeling sick to her stomach. Her hair is sticking to the back of her neck; she tilts her head to try and dislodge it. You catch on and pull it to the side for her.

“Talk to me, baby,” you urge gently. “Just something, anything I can do to help.”

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to speak. “I—I think,” she stutters. “I th—think I just ruined a woman’s pe—peace of m—mind for good.”

You start rubbing circles on her back and ask, “How?”

“You know, when they talk about victims getting revictimized by the system, they mean you.”

Emily shudders involuntarily. “I… you know how we found the unsub with a—a victim?”

Slowly, in sentences fractured by gasping breaths, swallows to hold back the nausea, and even a few sobs, she recounts what Regina said to her.

You murmur something under your breath that she doesn’t catch, then, ever so gently, you pull her into your arms.

Emily Prentiss isn’t one to break down, not in her own home and especially not in front of others. She controls any “negative” emotions as best as she can, her feelings only displayed through a trembling voice, misty eyes, or run-down nails. Screaming, tears, and nervous gestures were not befitting of an ambassador’s daughter, after all, and those habits formed in childhood have stayed with her until this day.

But there’s one person who’s the exception. There’s one person with whom those walls just don’t seem to exist. That person, of course, is you.

You pull her into your arms, and Emily Prentiss breaks down, because she can. She can because she knows you’ll be there to help put her back together again.

“You never had a chance to mourn your own death, did you?”

She hadn’t understood what her therapist meant when she said it yesterday morning, but Emily thinks she does now. This time last year, what Regina said would have unsettled her, and she would have felt sorry for her, but she probably wouldn’t have dwelt on it much. It’s not last year, though. It’s this year, and she’s coming undone in your embrace over Regina’s words, words she knows will never leave her.

“I didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Still… your monster’s dead. I have to live with mine. That’s my statement.”

Emily has a promise to keep, so she boards the jet early. A few minutes later, Hotch slides into the seat across from her and waits. It still takes her a few moments to collect herself enough to say the words.

“I’m having a bad day.”

---

Spencer’s not sure if you’re going to be able to keep doing this job. He became very familiar with your nervous tics and outward signs of stress during those weeks, and now he can notice them almost immediately.

You seemed okay for the first few months. A few habits cropped up now and then—biting your lip, tapping each fingertip to your thumb in turn—but that was fairly normal. It’s a stressful job.

But then your bottom lip starts getting chapped again, and during conversions with anyone other than Emily, you’re quiet; you often have to be prompted to share your thoughts.

He tries to find out what’s wrong, but when he asks, you shut it down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “But, um, you probably should talk to… somebody, you know?”

You barely look up from your paperwork as you respond. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ve been seeing a therapist since this whole shitshow started. I’ve got Emily, too. If anything, I should be telling you to go talk to a professional.”

Spencer just says “okay” again, then a few minutes later he excuses himself to go hide in the bathroom and nurse his hurt feelings. He knows you weren’t trying to be mean. Flipping around the suggestion to him most certainly came from a place of love. But he’s not interested in receiving any kind of psychiatric care—he’s actively opposed to it. So being told anything of that sort upsets him and often makes him angry.

Today it’s just salt in the wound, though. The wound itself is Emily. And god, does he ever feel guilty about the resentment that crops up every time her name is in your mouth. She was dead, and every day she was gone, he wished she weren’t. He cried countless tears over her and would’ve given anything to at least be able to say goodbye.

Then the impossible happened—she came back. He didn’t have to say goodbye at all. And sure, there was the initial relief and happiness, and the warmest hug ever, but now he finds himself resenting her. He’d never wish for her to be gone again, but he can’t stop the jealousy, no matter how hard he tries.

Recently, when Emily was shot during a case in California, he held back your hair as you leaned out of the door of the SUV and threw up upon receiving the news. Spencer Reid would never deny that he’s a germaphobe, but he wants that. He wants to be the one taking care of you, the one whose shoulder you fall asleep on, the one going home with you at the end of the day.

He doesn’t want Emily gone, never, ever again, but he wants you back. Those ten weeks, as awful as they were, weren’t the worst he’s had, because during that time, you were always seeking him out. He knows you didn’t want him that way, but if Emily had really been gone, he thinks one day, that might have changed. The thought always brings tears to his eyes.

Still, he would settle for having you the way he did during the years before he fell for you. Things just haven’t been the same since Emily came back. You don’t stay up late talking anymore. You haven’t a movie night in months. You don’t ask about the books he’s reading or what he did over the weekend. This is it: this is exactly what he was afraid of happening when he found you with Emily.

Spencer doesn’t think it’s personal. He thinks it’s because you’re barely hanging on these days, and just don’t have the energy anymore to do things like you used to.

It still hurts, though. He wonders if it’ll ever stop hurting.

---

Respite can come at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. Today, it comes to Emily in the middle of a hostage situation at a bank, in the form of a job offer.

The team is trying to find the I.D. of the Queen of Hearts, one of the robbers, when she gets a surprise call from Clyde Easter, her old Interpol Unit Chief, who gives her the information he knows about the unsub. He doesn’t know her name, but he reminds her that she’s seen the unsub before, at a robbery in Paris while she was living there. Then when the team learns that their unsubs want to fly out to Chad, she calls him back.

“Well, unfortunately Interpol doesn’t have many assets in that particular region in Africa. Maybe that’s something you could help me with when this is over.”

Emily scoffs. “Work for Interpol again? That’ll be the day.”

“Not work, darling. Run,” he corrects. “You see, I’ve been promoted. So, the team’s yours whenever you want it.”

“It’s a hell of a time to bring that up,” she says, ignoring the questioning glances she’s getting from you, Reid, and JJ.

Clyde asks her to think about it, but there’s no time to do that now. She pushes it to the back of her mind and goes back to work.

By the time the day is over, she’s tired. Just tired. You both narrowly survive the explosion in the bank thanks to the alcove you were in, trying to help two elderly patrons. Then a mere hour later, you scare the shit out of her by finding Will strapped to an active bomb and deactivating it yourself. So Clyde’s offer doesn’t come up again until the next morning, when light is spilling through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom with a soft, warm glow.

You face each other in bed, legs twined together under the covers. “What was that about working for Interpol again?” you ask softly, tucking your arm under your head.

“Clyde was promoted,” she replies just as quietly, as to not disturb the peaceful morning feeling. “He offered me his old job. He wants me to run the London office.”

Your eyes widen. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

Emily blows out a breath. “I’d like to at least… consider it.”

You reach out, finding her hand in the sheets and lacing your fingers between hers. “What’s stopping you?”

“I’m sure you can guess,” she replies, squeezing your hand back.

“Well, then I think you’re more than just considering it,” you say. “You wouldn’t bring it to me if you didn’t want to take the job.”

Emily thinks for a moment, then admits, “I… I do want to take it. But I have to know what you think, honestly.” She was already robbed out of making one life-changing decision without you in this past year. She has no interest in that happening again.

“Honestly?” you repeat, shifting a little. At her nod, you continue, “I think it’s a good option for us.”

“Us?” she asks, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah, us,” you affirm. “What, you think I’m just going to stay here if you move away?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. This is the first time we’ve talked about something like this.”

“Fair point,” you say, then sigh. “We’re… both struggling here in D.C., Em. I know it and you know it. This place, this team. It used to be my home, but now, I just… it’s not like it was before.”

“You don’t trust Hotch anymore,” Emily says quietly.

You let out a small, broken chuckle. “I’ve tried. I’ve been trying so hard. I know he did what he thought he had to, but I just… I can’t.”

“It’s okay to feel that way,” she points out. She lets go of your hand to reach up and wipe away a tear that breaks your lash line. “In fact, I’d say it’s reasonable, with what you went through.”

You close your eyes and nod, putting your hand on top of hers to keep it on your cheek. “I know it’s been hard for you, too.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I wanted to come back, and at first, I felt like I was home. But I just can’t go back to my old life and pretend that nothing happened. The only time I feel at home now is… well, it’s when I’m alone with you, just like this.”

“Emily Prentiss, I had no idea you were such a romantic,” you say, cracking a smile.

“Oh, stop,” she says, but she’s blushing. When your giggles subside, she speaks again. “I would love for you to come to London with me. But I don’t want you to forget what you’d be leaving. There’s still a lot of good here.”

You nod. “There is. I’m just not sure it’s enough anymore,” you say softly.

“I understand. You can think about it. I don’t need an answer now.”

So you don’t give her one, not right away. But you do a few hours later. So Emily picks up her phone and dials Clyde’s number.

---

JJ’s a beautiful bride, but Spencer’s eyes keep drifting over to you. The dress you’re wearing tonight is wonderful; from the cut to the color, it suits you perfectly. But that’s not what’s really got his attention. It’s the way you’re carrying yourself. You’re smiling, and you seem truly happy, without any reservations. But there’s also a bit of sadness clinging to you, and he can’t tell what’s causing it.

The party has been going on for a while by the time he finds himself dancing with you. You’d asked him, and now you’ve steered him a little ways away from everyone else. “There’s something I have to tell you,” you say just as he’s about to ask what’s going on.

To his dismay, he doesn’t have a clue what it’s going to be. He doesn’t like not having at least an idea. He swallows, then says, “Okay.”

You can’t meet his eyes; you look down to the floor instead and watch your feet move in time together. So whatever it is, I’m not going to like it, he thinks, and his anxiety spikes. “What is it?” he asks, tightening his grip on you without really meaning to.

You take a deep breath, then look up. “Emily and I are leaving.”

His heart drops and he stops in his tracks, causing you to stumble a little over his feet. “Oh, shi—sorry,” he says. “I just—you’re leaving the BAU? But you’re still going to be in D.C., right?”

You sigh, then guide him off the dance floor and to a quiet spot not too far away. “You remember what Emily said about working for Interpol again yesterday?”

“Interpol?” he repeats, his voice pitching upwards. “You mean, like, overseas?”

“London, to be specific.”

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know what to say. Things were a little rocky between you and him when Emily came back, and for a little while afterwards, sure, but recently he’d started to feel like he had his best friend back.

Apparently he couldn’t be more wrong.

Spencer’s used to people leaving. First it was his dad, then Ethan. Elle was next, quickly followed by Gideon. JJ was forced out, and although she ended up coming back, it didn’t erase the pain he felt in her absence. And then there was everything that happened with Emily.

So, Spencer’s used to people leaving. In a way, he almost expects it.

He just wishes it would stop hurting so damn much.

What is it about me? he wonders. What is it that makes people run away? There’s clearly something wrong with--

“Hey!”

He jumps, startled out of his introspection. When his eyes refocus on you, you put your hands on your hips.

“I don’t appreciate people being mean to my best friend, you know,” you tell him seriously.

“Uh…” He blinks a few times. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“That includes him being mean to himself,” you continue. “I know what you were thinking.”

“What? No, you don’t,” he protests.

“Don’t I?” You put the tip of your finger on your chin. “Was it or was it not something along the lines of, people always leave me, why do they do that, there must be something wrong with me?”

He hates that you’re right, so he doesn’t answer, just scowls and looks away.

“It’s not true, you know.”

“Sure,” he mutters. Sure it isn’t. You’ve only just added your name to the list.

“I mean it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look at me.”

Spencer doesn’t, and your resulting sigh sounds so frustrated, and then he thinks, Oh, great work, Reid. (Y/N) tells you she’s leaving and what do you do? You piss her off. Honestly, it’s no wonder--

And then your hands are on his face, cradling his cheeks, and he’s too surprised to resist your gaze anymore.

“It’s not your fault, Spencer,” you say, your voice equal parts firm and gentle. “You didn’t drive me away. Not even close. There’s nothing inherently wrong with you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He sniffs, trying to hold back the sudden onslaught of emotions you’ve just caused. “Well, I could have gone without picking a fight with you on our first day back at work,” he says, sniffling again.

“What’re you tal—Spencer, that was almost a year ago.”

“Nine months.”

“Whatever. The point still stands. You’re not why I’m leaving, okay? You’re…” you trail off and he’s alarmed to see your eyes grow wet. “You’re the opposite, actually. You were the only thing keeping me here when Emily was gone. And now, you’re why it’s so hard to leave.”

“I am?” he whispers before he can think better of it.

“You are,” you affirm. “I think Emily’s actually a little worried you’re gonna talk me out of it.”

It gets a laugh out of him, but right after a little sob escapes him and he squeezes his eyes shut. When you hug him, he immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your middle tightly.

“Hey, this isn’t the end, okay?” you say, and he can tell from the way your voice is trembling that you’re crying, too. “I know you like to ignore it, but we do live in the digital age, and I’ll be hounding you to talk to me at least once a week. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’d certainly hope not,” he murmurs, resting his head on your shoulder.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other, trying not to cry too much. Eventually, you pull away. “Besides, it’s not like I’m leaving first thing in the morning. Our flight isn’t for another ten days. I’m gonna be around.”

Spencer nods. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, then swipe at your face, clearing away the tears. “Um, we should head back. You still owe me a dance.”

And dance with you he does, swaying gently from side to side with his hand resting on your waist. A look over your shoulder shows Emily and Derek dancing in a similar manner; judging by the way he’s holding her, she told him the news as well.

He has an eidetic memory, but Spencer makes the effort to commit this moment to his brain all the same. He wants to remember the way you’re holding him, resting your head on his chest and running your thumb over the back of his hand every so often. He wants to remember how your skin feels against his, the texture of your hair. The lighting in the backyard and the way it makes you glow. The words that you said, telling him that it’s not his fault, that nothing’s wrong with him. He’s not quite sure he believes it, but you’ve never lied to him before, so he’ll try to accept it.

The song ends, and tears threaten to fall again when you pick up your head and take a step back.

“Hey, no more crying tonight,” you say. “Because if you start crying, I’ll start crying, and I don’t want to cry any more tonight. Save it for my grand exit at the airport terminal.”

That makes him break into a smile and he’s able to blink back the tears. “Okay.”

“Do you mind if I take this dance?” It’s Emily, and she’s looking at him, head tilted in your direction.

“Oh, um.” He clears his throat. “No, um, go—go ahead.”

He passes your hand to her, and what he feels is silly. You’re not some prize to be won; you don’t belong to anyone other than yourself. But he feels like he’s passing you off to Emily, almost… entrusting you to her. The look Emily gives him makes him think she understands this.

“Wait,” you say before she can properly take you into her arms. You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek.

Spencer doesn’t stay around to watch you two dance. He retreats back into the house, fingertips on the spot you kissed. He lets them sit there for a moment, then forces himself to drop his hand. It’s far past time for him to try and move on. He doesn’t want you to leave, but it might be what he needs.

Maybe, just maybe, with some distance, he can begin to heal.

---

On the first day at work without you, Spencer finds a small frame on his desk. He immediately recognizes the picture inside of it—it’s the one you’d kept as your lockscreen for months, much to his dismay.

It’s a picture from the relatively early days of your friendship, well before he felt anything that wasn’t platonic towards you. You’d dragged him out on a weekend off to a nearby amusement park, because, “you can’t die without having ridden a roller coaster at least once, Spence.” He had no desire to do so, but he didn’t have any other plans, so he went along with it.

The roller coaster ended up making him vomit, and the picture is from shortly after that. You’re holding up the camera with one hand and making a peace sign with the other, smiling from ear to ear. He still looks a little queasy, only managing a small smile, but he still looks somewhat happy. And he was, that day. Other than the nausea, he’d had a lot of fun with you.

He picks up the frame and feels something on the back of it. He flips it over and finds one of his lilac colored post-it notes, displaying your handwriting.

“When it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”

Tears blur his vision. Doctor Who. Of course you picked Doctor Who. And you’ve written something else, too, in smaller letters:

If you don’t answer my calls at least twice a month, I’ll tell JJ you’ve been stealing from her Cheetos stash for eight years. Love ya.

He laughs out loud, a little wet giggle that he has to follow up with a sniffle. He slips the note under the frame’s felt backing to keep it safe, then rearranges his things until he settles on the perfect spot for it to sit on his desk. He retrieves a fresh sticky note and scribbles down a reminder to himself to call you when he gets home, sticking it the cover of one of his books. After all, he can’t have JJ knowing about his thievery. The team’s good at what they do, but he doesn’t think anyone would be able to find his body once JJ’s done with him.

His eyes drift back to the photograph, coming to a stop on your face. He misses you already. He even misses the ugly bits, when you’d snapped at each other, when you were crying on his shoulder. When he saw you with Emily that first time. It’s an odd mix of emotions. Longing, nostalgia, grief, happiness, safety. Belonging.

Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.

Spencer couldn’t agree more.

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

tell me what you thought here!

oh my god, i can hardly believe it’s over. there’s still going to be a small epilogue, but it’s optional. thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who read and supported this series and your enthusiasm for it. you’ve made me so very happy. and if you relate to spencer in this, i want you to know you’re gonna find your someone someday. if that’s what you want, i believe you’ll find it eventually. much love to all of you. 💖

series taglist: @sobereinstein , @zizzlekwum , @goldensatine , @closetedreidstan , @afuckingshituniverse , @uswntxx , @johnmulaneyslut , @90spumkin , @mcntsee , @zhuzhubii , @shadyladyperfection , @mggbler , @eva-cadeau , @esmesisle , @anothergayinthelife , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @zozoleesi , @calm-and-doctor , i think that’s everyone?? so sorry if i missed you.

#spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #angst #spencer reid #emily prentiss #my fic #my god this took so long #i also referenced im3 twice in this i am a tony stan first and foremost lol

187 notes · View notes

dungeonsndiapers · 3 years ago

Text

Update

Posting about Kennedy starting school made me realize I missed posting here.

So update...

Kennedy, she's an awesome kid. She's funny and so damn smart. Her vocabulary is insane and often she says things and I have to makes sure that's what she actually said because it doesnt seem like it would come out of a 4 year old. She so inquisitive. I know its common at her age to never shut the fuck up, but she doesn't just ask questions for the sake of speaking. She wants to know so much about the world around her. Like I said in my previous post she started pre school. Its a 3 day a week program and she doesnt go all day, its mainly for social interaction. I knew when I became a parent that would be a difficult aspect for me to navigate, being someone who has such bad social anxiety that I find it difficult to leave the house... but I didn't know how much self judgement and hatred would be uncovered by this. So I am glad to see her go off and make friend and socialize with kids her age, because she wants to so desperately, and its been severely lacking and I sort of hate myself more and more each day over my inability to just go out and interact with people. (Like seriously what is wrong with me that I feel anxious and awkward around children).

Jefferson, is also an awesome kid. He's also... a lot. He started walking at 8 months and shortly after that learned how much he liked to jump and climb, and he never, ever stops. He keeps me on my toes for sure. He is also 2 months away from being two years old and is completely non verbal. Not one word. He babbles, he says "ma ma" but its never at me. He's never assigned a sound to a word. He scored in the "medium risk" category at his 15 month assessment for autism and will be reevaluated in January for his two year appointment. In the mean time we have an appointment with audiology to test his hearing and then after that speech therapy evaluation. He also has... idk sensory issues. He's always had a sensitive gag reflex, and now that results in him throwing up (not spitting up, straight up vomit) at least once a week. If he cries too hard he'll start gagging and throw up. If he put too much food in his mouth, gagging and throwing up. If we give him food he isn't familiar with and decides he doesnt trust it, gag and throw up (Sometimes without even tasting it). Its... exhausting. We've been told that some kids are like that and he is physically very health and getting all the nutrition he needs so we shouldn't worry. But the cleaning vomit up gets tiresome. However.... he may not very giving will his smiles, but when he trusts you enough to let you in he's the most affectionate and happy kid. His smile and laugh are everything. He's also really smart. He understands how things works, he just doesn't know how to tell us. if he's thirsty he will put his cup on the fridge where the water dispenser is. When he doesn't want to watch something on TV, he'll grab the remote and put it in our hands. Things will get better. At least he's mostly sleeping through the night.

Bill is doing good. Idk he's just Bill. I wish he has more of a social life here. He doesn't seemed super bothered by it though. Maybe because he interacts with people at work. I just want him to be happy.

As for me, I don't think I'm doing great. I feel incredibly lonely. Being a parent is so isolating, especially in a pandemic. And on top of that I am completely incapable of making friends. I have been in Washington for almost 4 years and I haven't made one friend. Literally not one. And the thought of having to talk to people makes my chest feel tight so... cool guess I'll just be lonely. I have started talking to a therapist, but its hard because I hate telehealth but there isn't really another option for us. (I know its seems weird that someone with anxiety like me would love to not have to talk face to face but I also have a lot of anxiety about not being able to hear them or them not being able to hear me or having problems with my internet and the picture wont load. Guys idk what to say I'm fucking insane) Even if they did have in person sessions, when tf am I supposed to go? I have two kids, one who is difficult and no one to really watch them on a consistent basis for something like therapy. So telehealth is the only option while Bill works from home and tries to watch the kids. But it's really difficult to focus when I can hear Jefferson crying upstairs or when I'm all done and I feel emotionally rung out because I have been crying for 45 minutes non stop, I have to be immediately back into mom mode because Bill has to get back to work. It's a mess. I'm a mess. I'm constantly overstimulated. And I'm so tired.

#update #Jefferson Grey #Kennedy Glori

28 notes · View notes

wintrcaptn · 5 years ago

Text

Forbidden Ch. 2 | Andy Barber

Summary : Summary : You used to babysit Jacob when he was younger and had the biggest crush on his dad, Andy. But being in High school at the time, you knew it was just a stupid fantasy that could never happen. Now, six years later, you were visiting your hometown while on winter break. Once you found out the news about Jacob, you knew you had to go check up on them. But things take a turn when you find yourself alone with Andy Barber.

Part One

A/N : I wasn’t planning on making a second part for this fic, until now. Thank you all for the amazing feedback! I hope you like this one just as much (:

You barely slept last night, all you could think about was the kiss. About the way Andy held you close to him, and how his tongue danced along yours.

It was driving you crazy, wishing you could taste him again. To feel him.

But you also couldn’t help feeling horrible. Like the worse person in the world. And it didn’t help that you were seeing him again in just a few hours.

It was beginning to make you nervous. To the point where you almost wanted to cancel and forget the whole thing.

But you knew you couldn’t do that to Jacob.

Staring at your reflection, you let out a long sigh.

“It’s just one more night.” You said to yourself.

____

Pulling up to the Barber’s house, you were washed over with guilt and filled with anxiety. Not knowing how this was going to play out, made it even worse.

What if Laurie found out?

What if Andy regretted kissing you?

A thousand questions flooded your mind and it was starting to freak you out.

Jacob saw your car through his blinds and immediately ran downstairs. Excitement plastered over his face. It caught Andy’s attention.

“You okay there, buddy?” He asked, flipping through the channels on the tv.

“Y-yeah.” Jacob said, walking over to the door. “Y/N’s here.”

The second your name fell from his sons lips, Andy stood up and shot his gaze to the window.

You saw the door swing open, and Jacob stood in the door way with a cheeky grin. And just then, you knew you had to suck it up and focus on being there for him.

“Hey!” You said, climbing out of your car.

“Hi!” He exclaimed.

Andy tensed up the closer you got. Part of him felt guilty for what happened, and especially for wanting to kiss you again.

This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a cheater, someone who would go behind his wife’s back and betray her trust. He hated himself for letting it get to this. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted you.

As you walked into the house, you tried hard to only focus on Jacob. But in the corner of your eye, you saw his figure. Suddenly, your gaze met his and instantly, your breath hitched.

“H-Hi.” He said, hesitantly walking over to you.

You swallowed hard, but found some courage in you to snap out of the daze and collect yourself. “Hi.” You replied.

“So I was thinking we can order pizza and put on a movie or something while I set up the game? Like old times?” Jacob muttered, looking at you then back to his dad. “You’re going to play too, right?”

“Um—if Y/N is okay with it.”

Both of the Barber boys turned their gaze on you, putting you on the spot.

“Of course I’m okay with it.” You said. “Is Mrs. Barber joining us or—?”

“No, she had some errands to do.” Jacob interrupted you. “She said she’ll be home later though.”

You could tell something was off. The second day in a row, and they weren’t together? This wasn’t like them.

For as long as you could remember, they made every effort to be together.

“I’ll get the game. Dad, can you order the pizza?” Jacob’s voice snapped you back to the moment.

But before either of you could respond, Jacob turned around and ran up the stairs, leaving you alone with Andy.

You hesitantly looked over to him, and his eyes were already on you.

It was crazy how much power a stare held over you. It made your heart pound erratically, and it was hard to think straight.

The silence was driving him crazy. He wanted to know—needed to know what you were thinking. And he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can we talk about—you know.” He whispered, walking over to you.

Each step he made, growing closer to you, things were beginning to feel hotter and constricting.

“Th-there’s nothing to t-talk about, Mr. Barber—“

“Andy.” He cut you off, now standing just right in front of you. His eyes looking longingly into yours, almost as if he were searching for something. “Please, call me Andy.”

You swallowed hard. “Andy, please. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

“I can’t. I tried, but I can’t stop thinking about it, about you. And—and I don’t think I want to stop.”

As you opened your mouth, you were instantly silenced after the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

Andy cleared his throat and quickly walked back toward the kitchen, pulling out his phone to order the pizza.

Finally, you were able to let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“Okay, I got monopoly and Pictionary Incase mom comes home early.” Jacob smiled.

“Perfect.”

After a few hours, the three of you filled yourselves with pizza and soda, while playing the game.

Sitting there with you and Jacob, watching the way you both laughed and talked, it was invigorating. In this very moment, Andy watched his son be a kid again and that’s all he ever wanted.

Everything felt normal. Like how it used to be. Before it all went to shit.

You all talked like no time has passed. Cracking jokes, and teaming up with Jacob, buying all the properties so Andy had to pay.

It was perfect.

“So did you ever finish reading the Harry Potter series?” You asked, rolling the dice.

Jacob nodded, flashing a smile as he remembered how much you used to love those books.

“Yea. They were good. Still not my favorite but—“

“Not your favorite?! Dude, Harry Potter is amazing and it has everything!”

Andy listened to you both go back and forth, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Ok well how about the next time in town, we have a Harry Potter movie marathon? I’m sure those will change your mind.”

“Fine!”

Laurie finally came home around seven. She looked even more exhausted than yesterday, and a little upset.

She said a soft hello, gave Jacob a kiss on the head and went straight upstairs, barely giving Andy a glance.

Then suddenly, it was back to reality.

Though you were able to distract Jacob for a bit, nothing could make him forget the truth. And for that, he needed some time to himself.

“I-I’m getting tired, so I think I’m going to lay down for awhile.” He said, propping up to his feet. “Thanks for coming over. I had fun. Maybe we can do it again soon?”

You flashed him a soft smile, and nodded before pulling him in for a hug. “Yeah, definitely.”

And just like that, he ran up to his room, leaving you alone with Andy. Again.

Andy sat on the couch, running his hands through his hair. Tired, upset, confused. There were too many different emotions running through him, it was starting to become overwhelming.

You decided to clean up the mess before leaving.

“Y-you dont have to do that.” He said, gazing at you.

“It’s okay. It’s the least I could do since you fed me the past two days.” You chuckled.

He chuckled along with you, and helped with the dishes. Not another word but glances were shared.

And every time you looked at him, the more you yearned to feel him. But you knew you shouldn’t.

He leaned against the counter once everything had been cleaned. His arms crossed over his chest.

There had only been one constant thing roaming through his mind; He can't be having feelings for another woman. He just can't.

But no matter how hard he tries to push his feelings aside, he couldnt. It wasn’t making any sense. Why couldn’t he shake this? Why couldn’t he let this go?

Before he had time to process anything, something overcame him and suddenly it all came out like word vomit.

“These past few weeks have been shit.” He said, staring at his feet. “And I have been losing my mind over everything that’s been going on until—“

Andy paused, meeting your gaze. “You showed up out of nowhere and—I don’t know.”

You weren’t sure what to do or say but stand there.

“It’s like I’ve been drowning, and kissing you—kissing you was like coming up for fresh air. I was able to breathe again.”

Every word that fell from his lips only made you want him more. Not only physically, not just feeling him or tasting him, you wanted him. All of him.

And he wanted you.

How did this even happen? You hadn’t seen each other in years and after a day, it was instant. Like it had come out of a movie.

He slowly started towards you, and the way he locked his gaze on you, it was almost as if he hungered for you.

Your breath hitched to the back of your throat, scared to move a single muscle.

“Just tell me to stop, and I’ll let this go.” His voice was low, almost like a growl and it only made you want him more.

Without realizing, he stood just inches in front of you, towering over you. Forcing you to crank your neck up so you could gaze into him.

You slightly opened your mouth, knowing you should say no, but no words came out.

The silence was all he needed, and suddenly, his rough hands cupped the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours.

Everything felt still like time had froze. And you were lost in the moment. Lost in his kiss, quickly motioning back and caving into him.

Soft grunts escaped him as he deepened this kiss, while his hands slid down to your waist. Without thinking, he lifted you off the ground, and your legs wrapped around him.

Andy could feel himself grow harder by the second. Yearning to feel more of you. All of you.

Your fingers were deep in His hair as your lips molded against his. You were both so caught up in each other, taking every second in.

He sat you on the counter, and swiftly took off his shirt, exposing his bare chest.

Your fingers traced over him, making its way down to the button of his jeans.

Feeling you getting closer to his already hard shaft, made him shiver under your touch. And damn, he wanted you.

His lips never left yours, sucking, biting and tugging at your bottom lip, forcing soft moans out of you.

The kiss had been everything you ever dreamt of. Possibly even better.

You were so drenched, you knew your panties had been soaked completely. But you could care less.

You could feel yourself pulsate between your legs where he stood. Your body yearned to feel him. To feel all of him, inside of you.

Andy could sense just how badly you wanted him. It turned him on even more, ready to give in and pound into you. He kissed you harder, showing you that he wanted you just as badly.

Everything moved so quickly, you almost didn’t realize you were both unbuttoning your shirt and with your next breath, Andy pulled the shirt off of you.

You were both lost in each other. Lost in the moment, caving into one another.

His lips began traveling down to your neck. His grazed his tongue over your skin just before he his teeth pressed into you and forced another moan out of you.

He loved hearing you. It made his dick twitch under his boxers, begging to be inside of you.

Until...

“Dad, can you bring up a glass of water for me?” Jacob asked, leaning over the railing of the stairs.

“Y-Yeah buddy. I’ll be right there.” He called out.

Andy swallowed hard as he grabbed his shirt from the floor, while you both breathed heavily.

You mirrored his actions and slipped your shirt back on. Feeling your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

This was wrong on so many levels. You were slowly falling for a guy who was older than you and worst of all, married.

“I’m so sorry, this was a mistake.” You said, starting for the front door.

Andy was torn, knowing he should’ve never crossed the line, but it was too late. There was no turning back now. And though it wasn’t right, he didn’t want to go back.

And for that, he hated himself even more.

“Y/N wait, please.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, as a lump formed in your throat. This felt worse than a break up. Worse than anything you had been through which you weren’t sure as to why.

“We can’t do this Andy, you’re married.” You forced out. “Laurie is literally upstairs.”

He had forgotten that she was in the room. Being with you, was like having tunnel vision and all he could focus on was you.

“Fuck.” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell am I doing?”

The tears had stained your cheeks and in that moment, you were broken.

“This was a mistake.” You repeated. “You’re just hurt and confused, this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have—“

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.” He cut you off. “This is bad timing, I know. But I’m not confused.”

You wanted nothing more than to believe him. But how could you with all things considered?

“Dammit.” You whispered to yourself. “I can’t do this.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and left without saying goodbye.

Andy knew letting himself feel this way to begin with was wrong. But why did it feel so good? Kissing you, holding you, feeling you pressed against him.

Being with you, he could finally breathe. It was like coming up for air.

——

Chapter Three sneak peek

Chapter Three

#chris evans #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers #marvel #cevans

999 notes · View notes

ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago

Photo

(1/7) gluttony: an inordinate desire to consume more than that which one requires.

(envy) (gluttony) (greed) (lust) (pride) (sloth) (wrath)

hongjoong x reader

word count: 3k

angst (warning: alcohol abuse)

it was the 7th night in three months you were woken by the sound of your phone blaring, a number you were coming to recognize making your stomach sink.

you knew what you were gonna hear.

hongjoong’s drunken voice slurring that he needed you to pick him up. that he hadn’t been doing anything but got busted by the police and needed to pay yet another fine.

it was the same thing you’d heard every other time you talked to him at five o’clock in the morning. charged with disorderly conduct as he paraded around the city a drunken disaster.

he was always a happy drunk, the life of the party who made everyone laugh and made alcohol look as if it was a mood booster; but more often than not, it would quickly turn sour.

he would mouth off to the wrong people but be able to dip before a fight broke out. he would conceal his alcohol in a brown paper bag, him and his rowdy friends passing the judgmental gazes of families and couples.

he would ignore your texts and calls pleading with him to be careful and to come home at a reasonable hour.

but you never ignored him.

no matter how mad and upset and frustrated he made you, you never ignored him. you got out of the bed, threw on a pair of shoes and made your way to the police station the same way you’re doing right now.

you watch your boyfriend in defeat as he walks out of the police station, opening your car door and plopping down in the seat wordlessly.

you make no move to leave yet, silence lingering between the both of you. you’re waiting for an apology or an explanation or something, anything, even though it’s things you’ve heard a thousand times before.

that he hadn’t meant to drink that much.

that shots were on wooyoung that night so he couldn’t turn it down.

that he’ll stop drinking all together because he can’t keep paying these fines and being brought in.

“hongjoong,” you say quietly but he only groans, rolling his head back onto the seat like you’ve screamed at him.

“i know, y/n,” he says, annoyance in his tone like he has any right to feel that way. like he was the one disturbed in the middle of his sleep and had to drive to the police station again to pick up his significant other of three years.

“i don’t think you do. this is the 7th time i’m picking you up hongjoong. it’s starting to-”

“baby, my head is fuckin’ killing me and i just wanna sleep. can we talk about this later?”

he meets your gaze full of concern and disappointment but it’s like it doesn’t even phase him.

like he doesn’t care how much pain and devastation his drinking brings you. how much he’s missed out on and made you miss out on with his addiction (something he refuses to admit is, in fact, an addiction) within these past three years.

unsurprisingly, you first met him at a bar.

you were drawn to him immediately, his handsome face and electric energy that had you guys leaving together just hours later.

but opposed to how most bar meetings go, you hadn’t had sex. you talked all night in his small apartment, the one you moved into only four months after dating.

you guys had such a natural chemistry and connection, the good times of going on dates and cuddling on the couch and hanging out with his friends really good.

but then the bad times got bad when you saw just how much he drank.

how you’d get home from school or work sometimes and see he’d already had a 12 pack of beers before five o’clock. how he went out almost every single weekend and got completely shit faced.

like the first time he met your parents, promising to meet you guys for dinner at the nicest restaurant in town.

you told them the second you sat down how great he was, how funny and kind and great he treated you; but the more time ticked on, the more they doubted you.

because not only did he stumble in almost an hour late, he was drunk.

a slur to his words and a stagger in his step as he sat down and ordered another beer. but he was happy, at least, he talked with your dad and laughed with your mom and you figured, okay, it could’ve gone worse.

this could’ve been way worse.

but then it was worse on your birthday, when all your old friends surprised you at the party hongjoong had thrown you.

as the night went on, though, your boyfriend celebrated your birthday like it was his own. downing shots and buying shots and cheering shots in a way you still can’t believe he lived through.

you begged him toward the second half of the night to stop, to just drink some water and leave the bartender alone for a little bit. but he only rolled his eyes and told you to loosen up, that the least you could do on your birthday was to stop being such a stiff.

hurt not by his words but by the way he continued to get obliterated, tears pricked your eyes and one of your best friends put his arm around you to comfort you.

he wiped your eyes and begged you not to cry on your birthday, to not let your asshole boyfriend upset you on your day.

but hongjoong only saw the boy’s arm on your shoulder and stumbled over with all his liquid courage, pushing him away before punching him square in the face.

it hadn’t left a lot of damage due to his state but it was enough to cause alarm, the first time he’d gotten violent the first time you told him you thought he had a problem and needed to go to rehab.

he laughed at you like you’d said the funniest thing in the world, insisting he didn’t have a problem and definitely didn’t need to go to rehab.

and even when he missed your graduation because he’d been hungover, he still didn’t believe you.

you went back home after the ceremony with a lump in your throat, your cap and gown still on as you quietly asked him if he still wanted to come to your celebration dinner.

his eyes popped open and you saw the sadness and guilt in them immediately, his arm wrapping around you and pulling your body into his. he kissed your head and apologized for over sleeping, the scent of alcohol still on his breath making your eyes prick with tears.

he tried to get up and change but ended up vomiting on the floor, your head shaking frantically as you told him to not worry about it. that you’d bring him home food and you guys could do something another day.

your parents and friends weren’t surprised when you told them hongjoong was sick and couldn’t make it, knowing looks and sympathetic gazes that made your heart start to sink.

because you knew he had a problem and knew he needed help but what else could you do?

you tried to talk to him and asked him to go but he’s not admitting that he has a problem; you can’t help someone who doesn’t wanna be helped.

you told yourself you’re just gonna wait for that moment. wait until he’s so low and broken that he comes to you and says he needs to go to rehab or aa.

but that time never came.

he’s missed your promotion dinners, he’s missed your birthday celebrations, he’s forgotten your anniversary, all because he was too busy going out at night.

he was the boyfriend you knew and loved during the week, kissing you softly and hugging you and telling you how much he loved you every hour of the day.

but then the weekend would come and that hongjoong was gone.

you were lucky if you were able to have a 30 minute conversation with him, usually sleeping the day away before he came out to peck your head and tell you he’d be back home later.

in the beginning you would pout cutely and ask him to stay or if you could join him.

but he always said you wouldn’t wanna come with them, that they got too crazy and he didn’t want you in that kind of environment. he told you he’d try to be back before you fell asleep only to wake you up stumbling in at four in the morning.

but when the problem became more persistent and when the arrests started happening, that’s when you really knew you needed to talk to him. really needed to get to the root of his problem and beg him as someone who loves him to get help.

“i don’t need help and i don’t have a problem,” he always said, “we can talk about it later.”

and that’s exactly what he was saying now, looking at you pleadingly because you know he just wanted to collapse into bed and sleep until nightfall.

with a defeated sigh and not another wasted word, you drove him home.

he took your hand and walked with you upstairs before diving into bed, dragging your body down with him as he nuzzled into your neck.

“i missed you,” he mumbled into your skin before his breaths turned even and he fell asleep with his arms around you.

you slipped away from him after a few moments, the smell of alcohol and sweat making tears prick your eyes.

you don’t wanna give up on him but you can’t do this much longer. you can’t keep wondering where he is at night and plagued with fear about what he’s doing.

about how many shots or how many beers he had.

most people are scared that their boyfriend is gonna go out and cheat on them when they’re drunk off their ass.

but you’re scared that the next shot is gonna be the one that kills him, that he’s gonna stumble into the street and get hit by car or mouth off to the wrong person and get his ass handed to him.

these thoughts run in your mind all day, trying to distract yourself by cleaning and reading and watching tv.

none of that works.

nothing works because you just wanna sit with him and talk to him. show him how much he’s been hurting you and beg him to stop.

you hear his feet pad out of the bedroom at around five in the evening, turning around to see his hair a mess and eyes hazy. he plops down on the couch and pulls you into him, kissing your forehead as he asks how your day was.

you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t cry or scream, your teary eyes trained on the television before he pulls your face away and looks over you with concern.

“hey,” he says softly, in the tone you’ve come to love and miss so much these days. “what’s wrong?”

and that’s when the tears come to the surface, a look you haven’t seen in his eyes for so long completely breaking you. you miss him, you miss him being here for you and holding you and acting like the man you fell in love with.

“are you really asking me that?” you cry out quietly. “i...i can’t keep doing this hongjoong.”

“doing what?” he asks, his thumb trailing over your face gently; and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he really didn’t know. really had no idea that seeing him drink and destroy his body has been draining the life out of you.

“you have a problem, hongjoong, and you need to get help,” you tell him, your eyes meeting his and already seeing the objection in them; but your own are teary and sad and defeated and it’s something he’s not ignorant to.

“i can’t keep wondering every night if you’re fucking dead just for me to pick you up at the police station.”

“it’s only been a few times, baby, and i’m sorry. you just know how crazy wooyoung can-”

“i’m not talking about wooyoung!” you snap, “i’m not dating wooyoung and i’m not crying over wooyoung. i haven’t picked wooyoung up seven times for disorderly conduct just for him to do the same shit over and over again.”

he’s angry at the way you’re calling him out but he can’t find it in himself to fight back, the brokenness in your tone and tears on your face making his stomach twist in disgust; he did this and it’s his fault that you’re this sad right now.

“it’s so draining, hongjoong,” you say, voice barely above a shaky whisper.

“i can’t keep watching you do this, okay? and i need you to please, please stop. if you need help, i will help you. we can look at programs together or look for meetings or do anything you want to. but please, i can’t keep thinking that this is gonna fucking kill y-” your voice breaks as a sob leaves your mouth and he immediately pulls you into him, his hand moving to the back of your head to stroke your hair. he feels tears sting the back of his eyes at hearing your muffled cries in his shirt, rocking you back and forth as he shushes you.

he tells you right there that he’ll stop.

that from this day on, he won’t ever drink again. for real this time. that he’s gonna do it for you, cold turkey without the help of rehabs or meetings.

“it’s better to get real help, hongjoong, it’s an addiction,” you tell him.

maybe because a part of you knew he wasn’t gonna be able to do this for you or anyone else. that he had to stop because he saw the issues and error in his ways and didn’t wanna feel like this anymore.

but he kisses your face and holds you tight and assures you that he’s not gonna do it again. that he loves you more than alcohol and is sorry he made you feel this way.

and when one weekend passes, you stupidly think maybe he was right.

you couldn’t remember the last full saturday you had with him, a picnic date during the day followed by a romantic dinner at night and movie at home. it had been just like when you first started dating, when everything was pure and sweet and you guys had nothing to worry about.

but then next weekend, when you were out for your friend’s birthday, you had a bad feeling in your gut.

you told hongjoong you wouldn’t go if he was gonna be too tempted but he only scoffed and told you absolutely not, that san and mingi were just gonna come over and play video games.

“i told you, baby, i’m done,” he reassured, pecking a kiss to your cheek and smiling sweetly at you. “i love you, okay? have fun.”

when you stumbled in a little past one o’clock, with no sight of him in the dark apartment, you knew right there that you two were done. tears pricked your eyes and you slid down the wall as you hid your face in your hands and cried.

cried because you couldn’t stop him and you were silly to think you could.

cried for him and whatever demons he had that made him go out and drown his sorrows away. that he didn’t feel like he could come to you or anyone else in his life besides a bottle of liquor.

you laid awake until suddenly you weren’t.

until that familiar ringing of your phone ripped you conscious, the first words in your ear a lowly spoken “i’m sorry.”

you took your usual route to the police station and watched him walk toward the car with his head hung, plopping down next to you and looking at you with sadness in his eyes.

“y/n, i’m sorry...i...we...we only meant to get one drink but-”

“stop,” you begged quietly, pulling back out into the street as you made your way back to his house. you walked him up, crossing your arms over your chest so he didn’t try to hold your hand before watching him flop down onto the bed.

you just watched him lay there, his hands holding his head like he was in a grave amount of pain. you thought for sure he was sleeping before he looked up, his eyes hazy and pale face looking at you with a mix of guilt and sorrow.

“baby, i’m sorry. you have every right to not believe me and to be mad at me, but i promise, that was the last time. i-i even told the guys that i can’t anymore and they said-”

his head lolls to the side before his eyes close and for a split second you think he’s dead.

but then the rise and fall of his chest a few seconds later relaxes you, allowing the tears to stream down your face again before you make your way to the closet.

you quietly pack your clothes and shoes into a suitcase, texting your parents and asking if it’s okay that you stay with them for a little. when a hanger flies from out of the closet and hits the floor with a loud crash, your head snaps up to see if it’s woken your...hongjoong.

but the boy doesn’t even flinch, his eyes closed and mouth open as his body recovers from all the damage he’s done. you linger at his bedside before kneeling down, feeling sobs threatening to leave you as your hand gently runs through his hair.

you don’t know how long you sit there and watch him sleep but it’s enough time for your mom to frantically call you and ask what happened, simply telling her that you’re leaving now and will be there in a little to explain.

you take your bags out into the hallway and fill up a glass of water, leaving it at his bedside as you look down at him one last time.

you hope that when he wakes, your absence will be something productive.

not that he’s gonna go into more of a downward spiral because you left him but show him that if he had just gotten help, this would’ve worked out.

that people are so desperate to help him but also can’t watch him get worse and worse.

“i’m sorry,” you say to the sleeping boy quietly.

because you wanted to help him so badly. you really wanted to be by his side during this and show him that you were a person who was gonna stick by him no matter what.

somehow your lowly spoken words make his eyes flutter open, looking at you in a sleepy daze before a small smile quirks at his lips.

“hi, baby,” he mumbles lowly, his eyelids heavy as sleep starts to consume him again. “i missed you.”

you feel your eyes gloss over and wait a few seconds for him to fully fall back asleep before getting up and walking out into the hallway.

you wipe at your tears and tell yourself you can’t go back in there no matter how much you want to - that, for both of you, this needs to happen.

you hope that he finds it in himself to get help one day.

you hope that this all didn’t happen for nothing and that one day, he’ll be able to fight whatever’s inside of him that causes him to do this.

and when the boy wakes up at night time, the apartment dark and empty and eerily quiet, it’s like a part of him already knows you’re gone.

he can’t say he really blames you either, he’d almost been waiting for this moment he knew was gonna come.

when you woke up one day and realized that he was never gonna get better.

that the only thing he can do is drown his demons and sorrows with a bottle and hope that someone will be dumb enough to stick around and beg him to stop something he can’t.

#hongjoong #hongjoong angst #ateez #ateez angst #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seven deadly sins au

490 notes · View notes

keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

Text

Coach Cavill - Chapter 11

Summary: Amelia and Henry are going apple picking.

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 5.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: I don’t know Henry’s family (well duh 🙄), but I wrote them in a way it would fit into this story. However, please keep in mind that this is in no way reality. Also, I know it has been over a month since I last updated this fic, so thank you for your patience 🥰

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

After what seemed the longest day at school, I quickly drove home, so I could get ready for my date with Henry. I’ve been looking forward to it since the moment we agreed to it. I love apple picking and the fact that I get to spend even more time with Henry, is definitely something I’m not saying no to.

Yesterday morning and this morning Henry came by to bring us all something nice to drink (a caramel cappuccino in the morning just hits different) and to pick up his sandwiches. I can’t believe that this is actually happening right now. After divorcing Dean, I thought dating was out of the question, really. I figured Dean would move on with his new girlfriend (and I mean, he certainly did: they’re getting married and have a baby—I think that definitely qualifies for moving on), while I would sit in my house, surrounded by my kids and my friends and I’d probably date when I was over fifty, when the kids would be long off on their own.

I mean, I wasn’t opposed to it. I had been with the same man since I was eighteen, being on my own felt like an entire lifetime ago and I was thoroughly enjoying it.

However, I met Henry and it seems to fit. I wouldn’t have dared to dream someone like him fitting here so perfectly.

My house is filled with kids. They all know I’m going out and when I’m gone, they have the place to themselves and don’t have to—and I’m quoting both myself and Eve here—use their inside voices as Eve is still working. While Benji, Lola, Jake, Isabella and Yara are all hanging on the couches watching some tv, I’m frantically running around, in order to get myself ready for this date. I took a quick shower, to clean myself up a little, since there was a slight peeing incident today at school and unfortunately, some got spilled on me. Not on accident of course. Poor kid was really anxious the entire day, since it’s not going well with his grandma. Besides, my own kids and Eve’s kids all peed or puked on me at least once, so you could say I have seen my fair share.

‘Amelia,’ Lola says, as I’m pacing through the living room, ‘why are you nervous?’

‘I’m not nervous,’ I tell her.

Benji smiles. ‘Yes mom, you are. Relax, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a date.’

I sigh deeply, knowing deep down that it’s not a big deal and I should relax. It’s indeed just a date and I already know Henry. He comes by in the morning and gives me a kiss. Nothing to worry about. ‘Am I looking too casual?’ I ask them, as I look down to my tight blue jeans, the thick black sweater and the black ankle boots. I have my warm white coat ready on the backrest of the seat. ‘This is too casual,’ I conclude.

‘Mom,’ Isabella says, while she sits on Lola’s lap, ‘you look really pretty and I know that Henry thinks so too. This morning he said that you looked really pretty.’

He did what? ‘When did he say that to you?’ I ask her.

‘When you were checking your bag.’ Isabella smiles and I can’t even hide my blush.

The doorbell rings and I let out a high pitched scream.

Yara starts to giggle. ‘You can do this, Amelia,’ she says. ‘Really you can.’

I can’t believe I need a few kids to hype me up, but to be fair: I am a bit rusty in the whole dating department. If they think I’m a nervous wreck now, they should’ve seen me seventeen years ago when I went on a date with Dean. ‘I know, I’ve got this,’ I say as casual as possible. I walk to the door and when I open it, I’m met with the beauty that is called Henry Cavill. His coat hangs open, only to reveal yet another cable sweater.

‘You are absolutely breathtaking,’ Henry says with a smile. ‘I’m so lucky.’

My mouth falls open. ‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I laugh. ‘Seriously Henry, you are already the embodiment of perfection and then you say this.’

Henry looks at his shoes and from the looks of it, he is trying to cover up a blush. That is adorable, really.

‘I just have to get my coat. You want to come in?’

‘Of course,’ he says, when I step to the side to let him in.

‘Where is Kal?’ I ask him. ‘I haven’t seen him in a while.'

‘Greg and Annabelle are watching him. I can’t say no to that sweet face.’

‘Whose sweet face?’ I ask with a chuckle.

Henry simply rolls his eyes, but lets out a laugh anyway

‘Oh, by the way, you have to know there are three teenagers and two young girls sitting in the living room.’

He nods. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ He closes the door behind me and presses a light kiss on forehead. ‘Did I already say to you that you’re pretty?’

‘You told me I was breathtaking,’ I say with a smile. ‘But I did hear you were talking to my daughter about how pretty I looked this morning.’

He chuckles. ‘I might’ve.’ I feel his lips on the tip of my nose and my stomach twists and turns in a pleasant way. I almost forgot how the first weeks of a new relationship type of thing feels like.

I clear my throat as I try to regain some composure and together we enter the living room. Jake starts to make kissy sounds, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Grow up, will you?’ I say to him, as I grab my coat.

Henry gently pulls it out of my hands, before holding it up for me, so I can easily slide my arms through the sleeves.

This man… Is he honestly real? I hope every minor on that couch is making mental notes, because this is peak gentleman behavior and I want them all to remember this for when they start dating.

‘I won’t,’ Jake laughs. ‘This is way too much fun.’

‘Well, I’ll keep this in mind for when you start dating,’ I say, as I zip up the coat. ‘Remember, I can embarrass you even better. Remind me, how old were you again when you peed on my porch?’

Yara pretends to vomit, while Isabella exclaims: ‘Ew, you peed on our porch? That’s disgusting!’

‘I think he was six the first time, mom,’ Benji says with a chuckle and Lola starts to laugh as well, before adding: ‘And the last time he was ten.’

‘You wouldn’t, right?’ Jake asks, his eyes enlarged.

‘If you don’t zip it, I definitely will. I have tons up my sleeve,’ I say with a smile. ‘Okay, kids, I’ll be back around dinner time. Isabella and Yara, please don’t touch the stove and oven. If you need something, ask the older kids, okay?’

‘Yes,’ the two of them say.

‘If you guys need anything, just remember, Eve is next door and I’m one phone call away.’

The five of them nod. ‘We know.’

‘Also, I’d rather have something left to eat here, so please don’t be swines and eat everything.’

‘We won’t,’ they all say.

‘And—’

‘Amelia, just go!’ Lola laughs. ‘We know how to behave ourselves here. It’s not the first time we’re alone here.’

‘Yes, mom, we’ll manage,’ Benji adds.

I nod, realizing I’m totally overreacting. They are home alone here all the time, while I hang out with Eve and Johnny. This isn’t new. ‘Right, you are totally right. I’m so sorry.’

‘Have fun,’ my daughter says.

‘We will,’ I say, ‘and Jake, for the love of God, don’t say: but not too much fun.’

‘How did you know I was about to say that?’ he asks, his voice a bit higher from sheer surprise.

‘You are fairly predictable,’ Henry says. ‘Even I knew you were going to say that.’

I finally manage to leave the place with Henry and when we’re finally in his truck, I lean over to give him a long kiss on his soft lips. He hums against my mouth, as he places his rough hand on my cheek. I can’t believe he actually deepens the kiss, but I’m not complaining at all. I could kiss this man non stop for hours on end, without getting tired of it. When we let each other go, I smile. ‘I really missed you,’ I say, ‘though I saw you this morning. Is that too clingy?’

‘Not too clingy at all, because I missed you too. I can’t get quite enough of you.’ He starts the car when we put on the seatbelts and he says: ‘I bought the ingredients you told me to buy for the pies. I also bought some whipped cream, because Greg told me if I were going to eat one of your apple pies, there has to be whipped cream on top of it.’

‘Greg is an absolute angel for reminding you, because I am out of whipped cream and he is totally right. Did you know I won the pie baking contest back in middle school with my fabulous apple pie?’

‘I did not know,’ Henry says, as he drives off. He mindlessly places his hand on my leg and I can’t stop myself to place mine on top of it. ‘I really look forward to this,’ he admits. ‘I have never been apple picking before.’

‘It’s so much fun. Pro tip: you have to walk at least twenty minutes before you start picking. Then you find the best apples.’

‘Good thing I have an expert with me,’ he says. ‘Greg told me it would be fun.’

‘You tell Greg quite a lot,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘Well, no wonder he kept wiggling his eyebrows at me yesterday.’ I wrap my arms around his thick one, before placing my head on his bicep. When Dean and I were still married, I could never sit against him like this in the car, because our seats were separated. Henry’s truck allows me to scoot over a bit to the middle, so I can melt against his broad frame. ‘I’m sorry about Jake,’ I say.

‘Well, don’t be. I really love the way you are with not only your kids, but also with Eve’s. It truly shows how close you guys are. I think it’s great you two live next to one another and you can always lean on each other.’

‘It sure is.’

‘Tell me, Amelia, how was your day at school?’

I tell him about how the kids were sweet today and how we made some Halloween related drawings. I even mention the slight peeing incident, but also that it was no big deal really. ‘How was your day?’

‘It was okay,’ he says, but I can hear his voice flatten a bit.

I look to the side, only to discover a deep frown between his brows. From the looks of it, today was not okay. ‘What happened?’

‘My mother called,’ he says, ‘telling me to come back home.’

‘Oh,’ I say. That can’t be good? ‘Are you going back?’

‘No of course not, I just arrived here. Besides, my life here is much better than in Jersey.’ He sighs. ‘She thought it was a horrible idea to move here. She also didn’t approve of my choices of work and sure doesn’t like it I’m doing it overseas now.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, when you have four brothers who are either with the Marines, lawyers and all that stuff, you could say I’m the loser of the family.’

‘Or are you the only one that followed their heart?’ I ask. ‘I mean, do you even know if your brothers enjoy what they do?’

He simply shrugs. It’s been hard on Henry to open up, I can see that. ‘Henry,’ I say, ‘when I grew up, I wanted to work at the mortuary.’

‘What?’ he asks. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I went to my granddad’s funeral and I was in that age where I wanted to experience everything. The woman who helped us arranging the funeral, I was in awe of her. I went with her probably the entire time and she told me what she did for a living. I was actually planning on becoming one, figuring out to what colleges I had to go to, but then I went to Korea. After I came back, I realized I didn’t want to work with the dead, but with the living and preferably our future.’ Realizing that, per usual, I’m about to miss the point I was going to make. ‘What I’m trying to say with this, was that every career move I had in mind, it wasn’t something my parents wanted me to do. They envisioned me becoming a doctor, or a a lawyer, owning my own business. But they just accepted all the choices I made, whether they liked it or not.’

Henry laughs. ‘Wow,’ he says. ‘I just can’t believe you wanted to work at a mortuary. You sure are quite something, Amelia.’

‘I like to keep on surprising.’

‘Figured. What about your kids?’

I chuckle. ‘They have interesting plans. Benji wants to become a career judoka, but I told him he needs to think about getting a degree. He might be quite the judoka now, but what if one day he gets injured or he doesn’t make it? So he came up with the idea of either becoming a dentist or a coach, like you.’

‘Really?’

‘Mhm and to be honest, I’m leaning more towards coach. I think he would be really good at that. He really has an eye for the details, with not only himself, but also with others. And Isabella wants to be famous, but she hasn’t figured out how she’ll get famous.’

He nods. ‘And you support them?’

‘Of course, they are my kids. The point is that your parents should accept you and your choices. The idea of parenting is that you prepare your kids to be ready for the world, not to dictate their lives. You might have an idea of what type of career fits them best, but they have to decide for themselves, make their own choices and mistakes. Besides, I could think of worse career moves. I mean, a judo coach is a great job and being famous… It’s quite something, I have to give her that and with Isabella’s personality, she would enjoy it so much. She loves being in the spotlights, preferably alone.’

‘You’re an excellent mother. Mine could learn a thing or two from you.’ Henry parks the car on the lot, but doesn’t get out. It’s almost like he wants to say something else to me. Knowing how hard it can be for some people to open up, I decide to wait and see whether or not he wants to tell me what is on his heart. ‘You know,’ he starts with a sigh, ‘my mom never went to one of my games.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ I ask him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Seeing these kids here, with their entire support system at the games, it warms my heart. I’m happy they have that.’

I study his face. ‘But you can be a bit jealous,’ I say. ‘That’s allowed.’

‘By you?’

‘By everyone. We all want something we didn’t have growing up and that’s normal. Parents try—or at least it appears as if they do—but they can never give their kids what they deserve. It pains me to know that there are things that I can’t provide for my kids or that I can’t meet their needs. I remember when I was doing my first internship at a primary school, I saw this mother who had four beautiful daughters. That’s what I wanted: sisters or brothers. I was all alone growing up and people would kill for that, but I just wanted a companion within my family. But my parents couldn’t give me that.’ I send him a reassuring smile. ‘Believe me, it can be hard to see kids who have what you have always wanted growing up or kids that are deprived of that what you had.’

Henry nods. ‘Wise woman you are.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I mean it! And just know that when I look over at the bleachers now and I see you, I realize that you are my support system.’

That is the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me.

We get out of the car and all the nerves I experienced back in my own house, are all gone now, especially when he reaches over to hold my hand. Being around Henry is so easy and it worried me a bit I didn’t feel so tense and nervous around him. When I first started dating Dean, I was a nervous wreck for at least two months. But maybe it’s unfair to compare teen Amelia, to adult Amelia who is divorced and has two kids.

When we arrive at the apple picking field, Henry hands me a bucket and together we walk over the grass, finding the spot with the best apples. ‘So tell me all about the divorce, Henry.’

He chuckles. ‘How long have you been thinking about this?’

‘To be fair? The second you told me about it. I mean, who would divorce you?’

‘I could say the same thing about you. You are the catch of the town.’

‘You are too,’ I say.

He bites his bottom lip as he stares ahead of him. ‘Okay, so I told you that my parents wanted me to marry her and her family wanted her to marry me.’

‘Yes.’

‘And how she dated my friend behind my back and we got divorced, right?’

‘Yes. I’m just curious to why you agreed to it?’

He snickers. ‘It had to do with a trust fund.’

‘Trust fund? That is honestly a thing?’ I ask.

Henry nods. ‘It is. So, if I married her, I would eventually get access to the trust fund.’

Eventually. That isn’t promising. ‘But you got divorced,’ I note. ‘What happened to the trust fund?’

‘It is now a yacht, owned by my parents.’

I place my hand on his arm. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘Never expected the word fucking to leave the lips of kindergarten teacher Amelia Jung,’ he chuckles. ‘But no, I’m not kidding. When I divorced Vera, that’s my ex, they knew she slept with my best friend, but they blamed me.’

This is absolutely infuriating me. ‘You have to give me your parents’ number,’ I say in all seriousness, ‘so I can call them and tell them their parenting style is honestly unbelievable. Henry you are a grown man! You should decide for yourself who you are dating or what kind of career you want to pursue. And that trust fund thing, how low, my goodness.’

Henry chuckles. ‘You understand why I had to leave?’

‘Oh, I more than understand, I just wonder why you didn’t leave sooner. I really don’t want to talk badly about your parents since I don’t know them, but this crosses a line. What an idiots.’

He nudges my side. ‘This fired up look really suits you, Amelia,’ he admits. ‘I like it.’

I look up and he smiles. He is so beautiful, my oh my. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Always.’

‘How rich are your parents? I don’t need a number, but just an indication.’

‘They are pretty rich,’ he says. ‘Like, there is a possibility we would have marry a distant cousin to keep the money in the family, if there are no more trusted family friends who are single.’

Why do I know exactly what kind of family this is about? ‘I didn’t know Jersey had those types of rich.’

‘We keep on surprising,’ he chuckles. ‘Honestly, I never really fitted in, always the black sheep of the family. I’m just grateful I’m out of there and living my own life, even if it’s at age thirty eight.’

‘Luna Meadows sure is lucky to have you here.’ I stand on my toes, to give him a kiss on his soft lips. ‘You sure you don’t want me to call your parents?’

‘I don’t think they are ready for that,’ he smiles. ‘If they find out I’m dating you, they’ll flip.’

Oh my, we’re dating? Is that what he is saying? ‘Is it because I’m Korean?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, it’s more you having kids.’

‘Don’t your parents want grandkids? I thought everyone with kids is desperate to become grandparents.’

‘They do, just blood related grandkids.’

I simply scoff. ‘Your parents are a piece of work.’

‘You can say that again.’ I’m already opening my mouth, but he is way ahead of me. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he chuckles. We start picking some good looking apples, as the late autumn sun warms my back. ‘Okay Amelia, I see a nice apple, but I can’t reach.’

‘Well, that sucks,’ I say, ‘because of you can’t reach it, I certainly ca— Oh no! Henry, put me down!’ I scream as he wraps his arm around my legs, lifting me up.

‘It’s the one on your right,’ he tells me, but I have closed my eyes shut. ‘Come on, Jung, it’s not that high!’

‘It is!’ I say. ‘You know I’m afraid of heights.’

‘I know you are. Just pick that one apple.’

I manage to open only one eye and quickly grab the one on my right. After I nearly broke the branch while picking it, he carefully puts me down. ‘That wasn’t funny, coach Cavill,’ I tell him, pointing dangerously at him with my pointer finger.

‘Oh look at that,’ he chuckles, ‘the teacher-finger.’

I try not to smile, but I fail. ‘Shut up.’

He bites his bottom lip, only making my heart pound really fast. Is he aware of the effect he has on my heart, especially when he does that? Henry leans in to give me a quick peck on my lips.

Amelia, please, now is not the time to faint.

‘Excuse me,’ I hear a voice behind me say and I cannot believe it’s Trixie again. Of course she is here, to ruin my fantastic date. She accidentally sat in the booth next to me on my second date with Dean, together with her friends. ‘Coach Cavill, I wanted to talk to you about George, is now a good time?’

I want to smack that smug grin of her face. No, now isn’t a good time and any human being with even one braincell could’ve figured that out.

Henry clears his throat, obviously a little caught off guard. ‘Uh, what did you wanted to talk about?’ he asks, as he scratches himself in the back of his neck.

‘His progress.’

Well, I can tell her all about that: her twelve year old is just as bad as he was three years ago. There is no progress with George Yates.

‘I think we should have that conversation a little later,’ Henry says with a professional tone, ‘when we’re at the center for example. I have video material and all. We could have a chat tomorrow, before training.’

‘Can’t wait,’ she says. ‘Amelia, are you having fun?’

‘Mhm, we’re going to make an apple pie at his place,’ I say, holding up the basket. ‘Remember, back in middle school when we were in that pie baking contest and I made one of my famous apple pies. What did you make again?’

Her face grows pale.

‘Oh right, pecan pie, with that very dark crust.’

Trixie is ready to skin me alive and honestly, I can’t really blame her, because I have been in her shoes more than once. For years her words would stab me like knives and now it’s the other way around. I remember when I came back from Korea, the way she gave me a hard time because my band Forever Hope disbanded. I mean, what did she accomplishment in those years? A date with Lucas Yates?

However, back then I just ignored her, but now I can’t. She will do anything to discredit me, but after that last phone call I had with Eve, when Trixie told me how I did not want to host a baby shower and a sweet sixteen at the same time, I felt this newly gained power to not allow her words to get to me.

I came to the realization that Trixie is still stuck in her high school mentality, while I grew up and actually matured. This gossiping and undermining thing was ridiculous back in school, but now… It’s still ridiculous, but also just plain pathetic. And maybe my comments aren’t exactly mature, but this is honestly just a small part of the payback she deserves after all those years of nearly bullying me.

‘Well, Trixie, Henry and I have some baking to do. See you later.’ I grab Henry by his hand and pull him with me. Henry doesn’t say a word on our way back to the truck, but once we’re both seated, he starts to laugh. ‘What?’ I ask.

‘How much underlying anger was in that conversation?’

‘Oh, quite a lot,’ I chuckle. I try not to think about the whole kid thing, because I honestly think it’s too soon for Henry and I to have that discussion. ‘Trixie and I go way back and I just felt this need to tell her off. Sorry.’

‘No need for apologies, remember?’ He places his hand on my leg and gives me a comforting squeeze. ‘Just so you know: I like you seeing you like this.’ He leans over and presses a kiss on my lips. ‘Now let’s go and make that famous apple pie of yours.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Making apple pie with Henry was nearly impossible. For starters, I had to make a checklist of every single thing that needed to be done at his place and spoiler alert: it’s a lot. I don’t want to call this place a dump, but… It kind of resembles one, if I’m being honest. When I finally managed to get myself to the kitchen, he continued to distract me with hugs and kisses. I mean, it’s not the worst thing I could think of (it was quite romantic), but once I’m baking pies, there is just this instant switch and I have a severe case of tunnel vision.

But of course, I managed to pull it off, with shockingly little help of Henry (but he made it all up by being handsome and handing me the stuff I needed). Now we are waiting for the three pies to cool a bit, as we are sitting on the couch. ‘I didn’t get any texts from the kids,’ I say, as I stare at my phone. ‘Or Eve for that matter. Are they okay?’

‘I think you are worrying too much.’

‘I’m not,’ I tell him, but when I look up and see his eyes, I realize I’m lying. ‘Okay, maybe I worry too much. It’s a trait I got only after the divorce. I usually was pretty chilled, very laid back, however when they went to their dad for the first time after the divorce… I was a nervous wreck. I think I finished up an entire bottle of wine and some.’

‘Oh no,’ he chuckles. ‘I’m sorry.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and lets out a sigh. ‘But I think it’s a mom’s job to worry.’

‘Yeah, part of the job, indeed.’

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but then he breaks the silence by saying: ‘You know, I keep thinking about Benji and that… anger outburst he had the other day.’

‘I know, I know, we’re trying to work on it, but… He just bottles up all of his emotions and then they come out uncontrolled. It’s so uncharacteristic of him, but he has been having them since he was little. I just worry sometimes he might hurt someone.’

‘I understand,’ Henry whispers.

‘But when he was younger, he would also save it when it was just us, when his dad wasn’t around. Probably because I just let him have his rage, before finally stopping when it was about to get out of hand. Dean on the other hand would get really angry. I think he felt and still feels safer to do it when he is with me.’

‘Understandable.’

‘I just worry a lot and that resulted in quite a few grey hairs.’

‘Listen,’ he says, ‘you are doing an excellent job, that I can guarantee. I mean, listen only to my parents and how much of a train wreck they are.’

I chuckle. ‘That’s a wonderful compliment, thanks for that, Henry.’

‘You understand what I mean.’

‘I sure do and… I know I’m doing good, but sometimes I just lack so much in my own opinion.’ I lean towards him, to press a long kiss on his lips. Before he can say anything to that last statement I made, I say: ‘We should get going. Think the pies are ready.’

‘And you desperately want to get back to your children, copy that.’

Henry and I get in his truck, with the slightly steaming pies covered in tea towels so you won’t burn your hands when you hold them. I adore being in a car with him, especially when he places his hand on my thigh. When we arrive home, Henry holds the pies in his hands and when I open the door, I only hear Isabella’s and Benji’s laughs, meaning the other kids went home. I’ll bring the other pie to Eve’s tonight. ‘Hi sweeties,’ I say when I walk into the living room, seeing the two of them on the couch.

‘Mom!’ They jump up and rush towards me and hug me close. ‘How was it?’ Benji asks.

‘It was wonderful,’ Henry says, ‘and you kids are lucky your mom loves you a lot, because otherwise I would’ve eaten all of this all by myself.’

Benji holds out his hands to help Henry out and brings the pies to the kitchen. Isabella jumps up and with one arm he balances her on his hip. ‘You wouldn’t, right?’

‘Oh, I think he would,’ I chuckle.

We walk to the kitchen, where Benji already has four plates prepared. ‘Oh shoot,’ I say to Henry, ‘I left the whipped cream in the car.’

‘I’ll get it, no worries,’ he says with a smile, before turning around, as he grabs his keys from the counter.

When he is out of hearing distance, Isabella pokes my arm. ‘And?’

‘And what?’ I ask her.

‘Did you two kiss again?’

The fact that I’m stammering, is the answer to her question. ‘Why do you care?’ Benji asks his little sister.

‘It’s just so romantic,’ she exclaims and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pressing her cheek against mine.

Henry walks back in with the whipped cream, tosses it up, before catching it with his other hand. Show off, I think to myself. ‘Who wants some?’ he asks.

‘I do, I do!’ Isabella says.

‘On your nose or on the pie?’ Henry asks with a smile.

‘On the pie,’ she chuckles. ‘You are a pig.’

‘You can’t just call people pigs,’ I say to her, softly squeezing her side.

‘You do it all the time, mom.’

‘Some things need to stay within the Jung family, honey,’ I whisper in her ear. ‘Okay, Isabella, pick a piece.’

We take our plates with the piece of pie and the whipped cream and sit at the table. Benji is seated next to me and when I look to the side, I notice him looking at Henry and how he is treating Isabella. I bump my knee against his and our eyes meet. My sweet boy, I think to myself. He sends me a quick smile and I chuckle.

‘Benji and Isabella, do you mind if I talk to you two about something?’

‘Is it something we did?’ Benji asks, his voice dripping with worry.

I place my hand on his wrist. ‘No, sweetheart, it’s nothing you did.’

Henry shakes his head. ‘It’s just something I need you to know.’

Isabella looks up to the side, as she takes in the broad man next to him. ‘What is it?’

‘Well I want you two to know that… Just because I’m dating your mom, doesn’t mean I’m trying to steal her away from you nor to become your new dad. She is still your mom and you two are her number one priorities.’

My daughter chuckles. ‘Henry, we know all that.’

‘And we are more than happy to share our mom with you,’ Benji tells him.

While Henry is a bit surprised, I am not, because I just knew my kids would react like this. ‘Really?’ He can’t help but smile and that melts my heart.

‘Really,’ my two kids confirm and I smile when I see how happy the three of them are. ‘Is there anything you wish I know or you expect from me?’ He looks over at Isabella, who already opened her mouth. ‘And that does not involve watching television with you passed your bedtime,’ he says, causing her to pout.

‘Just make my mom happy,’ Benji says and if my heart wasn’t completely melted away, it is now.

‘Honey,’ I say, as I wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel he is rolling his eyes. ‘You are too sweet.’

‘Mom, stop,’ he laughs.

‘My boy is such a darling,’ I continue, simply to pester him.

‘Mom!’ Benji says, trying to push me off, but I’m simply too strong for now.

‘I did such a good job raising you,’ I chuckle, as I pepper his cheek with kisses.

‘Mom!’ He starts to laugh and I actually let him go now. ‘Don’t hug me like that again, but I meant what I said. Just make my mom happy and then I’m happy.’

‘I can do that,’ Henry says. ‘I promise.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #coach!henry cavill #henry cavill x amelia jung #amelia jung #henry cavill x asian ofc #asian ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #Coach Cavill

97 notes · View notes

imagineredwood · 4 years ago

Text

17. Bananas and baby bottles 🍌🍼

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x new mom reader

Warnings: Motherhood, mentions of pregnancy, postpartum body

Word count: 757

“Are you hungry, preciosa?”

You looked away from the TV to face Miguel as he walked into the bedroom.

“Kinda. I feel so bloated though, I don’t wanna eat.”

Miguel pouted and sat down beside you on the bed, his hand reaching out to gently stroke your tummy. Your womb was empty now, your pride and joy asleep in his crib in the nursery, but that did not mean that Miguel was going to stop caressing the bump. You had carried his child. You had grown an entire new life within yourself. A whole human had been created in your tummy, and Miguel still believed that you were the most marvelous thing because of it.

You were now going on four days postpartum and though your tummy had gone down some, there was still the slight look of it remaining as your uterus tried returning to its normal size. With a kiss to your cheek, Miguel stood back up from the bed and held his hands out to you.

“Come on. Let’s go get you something simple to eat. You gotta walk around.”

Your grumble was pronounced but you slipped your hands into Miguel’s anyways, letting him help you stand. It was rough, but you managed with his help, now standing on your own two feet. You walked with him, your hand wrapped around his forearm as he led you to the door of the bedroom.

“Wait. Let me check my hair real quick.”

Miguel chuckled but agreed, walking with you over to the large mirror that sat atop the dresser. He watched as you manipulated a couple of strands, tucking them back into where they belonged. It was not until then with you looking in the mirror that you noticed the small stain of spit up that was dried on your nightgown.

“Ugh.”

Miguel smiled and disappeared into the room, coming back seconds later with a new gown for you.

“Here, querida.”

He helped you strip the dirty one from your body gently, tossing it into the hamper before helping you get into the clean one. With you now dressed once again, he smiled and took your face in his hands, his brown eyes swimming with love and adoration.

“Have I told you just how perfect and amazing you are today?”

“Twice, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

You both shared a chuckle, before settling down.

“You’re the most amazing human being I know. You take care of me, you look after me, you keep me in check. You take on my life in stride when most people would have run for the hills. And now to top it off, you have given me the absolute best gift I have ever received. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I want to make sure you know that. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, baby vomit and all.”

The twinkle in your eye was one that warmed Miguel to his core. Leaving one more kiss to your lips he took your hands once again and walked with you.

Once in the kitchen, he looked around trying to find something light but nutritious enough for you to eat.

“Do you want me to have the chef make something for you? Or have one of the guards go get you something?”

Shaking your head, you looked around the kitchen yourself, eyes stopping on the bananas.

“I want a banana.”

“Banana it is.”

He ripped one from the bunch and then peeled it for you, handing it over. You took it from his hand and your tummy growled in anticipation. Raising it up to your mouth, it was touching your lip when your son’s cries came over the baby monitor that was sitting on the kitchen counter. You sighed and pulled the banana away, but Miguel shook his head, pushing it back to your mouth.

“Eat. I’ll go get him.”

You heeded him and began to eat your banana in peace, enjoying the sweet softness of the fruit that was not too hard on your stomach. Soon Miguel was back with your child in his arms, no longer crying as he grasped onto his father’s finger tightly.

“You hungry too, mijo?”

Miguel was getting a baby bottle of your milk from the fridge and putting it on the expensive rapid warmer then, rocking and cooing at the bundle of joy as he waited. You watched with overwhelming love as you continued eating your banana, tired yet happier than you had ever been.

General taglist @piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @ifoundmyhappythought @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches007 @capt-canadian

#miguel x reader #miguel galindo #Mayans MC #galindo cartel #drabble #mayans imagine #mayans fx #imagines #dad!miguel #SDOF

298 notes · View notes

kzuhadovey · 4 years ago

Text

the times you both fell in love

character: choi soobin x f!reader

type: fluffy fluff!!

warnings: death of a loved one

song recommendations: night changes - one direction

so i was just sleeping- and this just popped up in my mind?? so i decided to write it so ~enjoy~ also i did not proof read i’m sorry

It was a quiet, peaceful day for Choi Soobin. Flowers dropped from the tall trees and a slight breeze caressed Soobin’s face. Soobin hummed quietly as he glanced beside him, being met with… you. You were carrying a large backpack and a baby in your arms. “Psst. Y/N.” Soobin whispered, not wanting to wake the baby. “What?” You glanced at him quickly. “I love you.” The way your cheeks turned red and you giggled a little. He has said that to you over 500 times and yet when he said it, he felt like falling in love with you over and over again.

➵ one Y/N Y/L/N sat in the car, a barbie backpack on her back and a frown on her face. "Come on Y/N, cheer up." Her father said, poking her cheek. Y/N looked away in annoyance. "Soobin's gonna be just fine dear." He said, laughing. Y/N at the age of 6 was extremely attached to her neighbor and best friend, Choi Soobin. They always went to school together and when one-day Soobin fell ill, Y/N was in a completely sour mood. "I'm not going if Binnie's not going!" You had said all day. Eventually, your father had dragged you and your lunch to the car. You faced the window, looking for your mother when you caught sight of Soobin, head outside the window, trying to catch your attention. You rolled down the windows and waved at Soobin, a bright smile on your face. "Y/N!!!! I'M SICK SO I CAN'T COME TO SCHOOL TODAY!" Soobin screams with all his power. "I KNOWW MY MOM TOLD ME!" You shout back. "GET SOME REST OKAY MY MOM SAID IF YOU REST YOU WON'T GET SICK EASILY!" Soobin nodded. "OKAY Y/N!! HAVE FUN AT SCHOOL!!" He shouted, and you smiled. You waved goodbye, and that was the first time you fell in love.

➵ two Y/N stood in the middle of the room, leaning against a table. It was a pretty crowded party that Soobin had dragged her to, she always resisted but Soobin would always force her anyways. Soobin carried 2 drinks to Y/N, smiling widely. "Y/N! It's a fun one, isn't it?" Soobin asks, already chugging down one drink. "No, it isn't actually. But lemme take a drink." She says, taking a cup and drinking it. It was salty and burned her throat, she enjoyed it. "Hey Soobin and girlfriend of Soobin, come, we're playing games in the living room." A boy said, approaching the duo. "Yeonjun. She isn't my girlfriend." Soobin says, frowning. Soobin takes your head under his armpit and pats your head. "Bin- stop it-" You say, giggling. "This little shit is my best friend," Soobin says, nodding. You eventually pout and ignore him. "Ah, well, Best friend and Soobin, let's play games, hm?" The boy, Yeonjun, asks. Soobin glances at you, asking for your opinion. You let out a simple shrug and he nods. "She's tired. We're going home." Soobin says, taking your waist and carrying you. Soobin knew you too well, he knew your mannerisms and everything else. "CHOI SOOBIN- LET ME DOWN THIS INSTANT-" You shout, kicking and flailing around. Yeonjun looks at both of you in an awkward way before walking away. Soobin laughs and starts carrying you out the door, making you pout and flail around. "You're lucky I saved you there, Princess Y/N," Soobin says, putting her down. She flips her hair and laughs. "Let's go. Before your parents slander me." Soobin says, offering his hand. She accepts giddily and they both walk home together, hand in hand.

➵ three Y/N stared at the hospital bed tears running down her eyes as the hospital staff started cleaning up the bed. Y/N couldn't feel anything, her face was numb from the tears and her fingers felt as if they weren't even there. Her mother was away, not even knowing that her father had died. Y/N had no one, and Y/N hated that feeling. As more tears started spouting, Soobin's comforting hand wrapped around her shoulder. Yeah, Soobin was there. As soon as he had heard the news of Y/N's father's accident, he had rushed to Y/N's side. Her father had already treated Soobin like his very own child, so Soobin was sad aswell. Soobin had a few tears as well but seeing Y/N broken was the thing he hated the most. Y/N started crying into his chest again, and Soobin could only stroke her head, trying to soothe her. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," Soobin whispered, kissing your head as you cried. He would eventually be there for every stage of sadness Y/N had.

➵ four Soobin was nervously waiting outside of the university building, tapping his hand. Today Y/N would present her start-up business to over 500 investors in part of a start-up competition. Y/N's been preparing all month, with sleepless nights and hungry days. Soobin had been accompanying Y/N every day, helping her with food, helping her present, and most importantly, having fun. Y/N came out of the building, a laptop bag in her hand and a frown on her face. Soobin was about to cheer but then realized that she wasn't that happy. Soobin approached Y/N in a frenzy, anger on his face. "WHO WAS IT?? I'LL GO BEAT THEM UP-" Soobin shouted, ready to storm in the building. Y/N awkwardly tried to hold him back, giggling and shouting. "SOOBIN LISTEN- I GOT IN-" Y/N shouted, and Soobin paused. "You- you what?-" Soobin stuttered, looking at her, eyes panicked. "I got in. They liked my idea, Bin." Y/N said, laughing. Soobin sighed in relief, throwing his head back. "THEN WHY'D YOU COME OUT ALL TEARY-EYED DUMBASS?!" Soobin shouted, causing some people to stare. Y/N laughed, trying to shush Soobin. "I wanted to see your reaction, of course," Y/N said, giggling. "You dumb bitch!" Soobin said before wrapping you in a hug. A nice, warm hug. He pulled away before kissing you. You panicked for a second, before finally leaning into the kiss. He finally pulled away, his cheeks red. "Uhm-" He muttered before actually running away. Y/N's mouth was gaping open. "CHOI SOOBIN GET BACK HERE-" You shouted, running after him.

➵ five You woke up in Soobin's dorm room, disheveled. You were only in your underwear and bra, and it was very, very cold. "Holy fuck." You said as you covered your body. Soobin was in a band with his friends- so that was going well. You enjoyed Beomgyu was a babbler definitely so that was a minus. Other than that, it was nice resting with the boys. You just didn't expect to be waking up naked. Soobin must have taken your clothes off when you were asleep. You stood up slowly, wrapping the blanket around yourself. You definitely didn't wanna pass Taehyun, he was literally sleeping with his eyes open. You picked up a hoodie from the floor and recognized it as Soobin's. You put it on yourself quickly before heading out the door. The hoodie was extremely oversized so it reached your knees. You peek around, looking for Soobin. "Binnie!!" You shout, looking for him. Suddenly, a 'boo!' noise came from behind you. You yelp and jump, turning around. Of course it was Soobin. You rolled your eyes. "Hey, baby." Soobin said, laughing. You walk around, looking for the bathroom. "Give me my clothes then I'll head out of here. I know you have practice soon." You say, finally spotting the mirror. Soobin nods as he follows you around like a lost cat. Soobin put his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you as you begin to brush your teeth. "Look how far we've come." Soobin mutters, looking at the mirror. You giggle and you just ignore him.

➵ six You were dressed in a small and comfortable onesie, watching your favorite show. "COME ON DELILAH JUST MARRY HIM ALREADY." You shouted in frustration. "Hello dear." Soobin's light voice called out. You waved shortly at your boyfriend before focusing back on the TV. Soobin was back home from another performance and he was itching for cuddles. "What you watching baby?" Soobin asks as he kisses your cheek from behind. "Y'know what I'm watching," You said. "I have an idea, baby." Soobin randomly says as he sits next to you. "What if we get married?" Soobin whispers into your ear. It took a while for you to process this, but you paused the tv show. "Us? Married?-" Your cheeks went red. "Bin, I mean- that would be nice- but are you sure? It's permanent, you'll be stuck to me for life." You said, chuckling. Soobin chuckles and he sits on the floor on one knee. "I don't mind. Will you marry me?" Soobin asks, taking out a ring from his pocket. Your breath hitches. "Holy fuck."

➵ seven Soobin stood from across the room nervously. The other boys were staring at Soobin in awe, giggling and laughing a bit. Soon, a figure came from the other side of the room. It was her. She was in a white gown that hugged her curves perfectly, and there were a heap of flowers in her hands. Everyone stood up, and Soobin was just in awe. "You look perfect." Soobin mouths and Y/N let out a tiny snort. "Shut the fuck up Choi Soobin." She mouths back and Soobin smiles.

➵ eight Soobin smiled at the presence of his god-daughter, Emily in his office. "HEYYY ITS EMILYY!" Soobin shouts, reaching for the blonde toddler. "Ah, I'm sorry Soobin! She just went in here and ran away from me!" You said, your hair a mess and vomit all over your clothes. "Aish, how are we gonna have a baby if you can't even take care of a toddler," Soobin said, laughing. "BITCH YOU CAN'T EVEN TAKE CARE OF MY DOG!" You said, slapping his head. "AIYA-" Soobin frowned. "Hey, look at that." Soobin noticed a picture, a small photo album on the back of the photo frame. "Hm?" You asks, busy talking to Emily. "It's a photo album we made when we got married." Soobin says, reaching for it. He opened it and his mouth dropped open. You looped her arms around Soobin's neck, also watching. "Look. Here's us when we were 6." Soobin pointed to a photo of you hugging Soobin. "Ooh, is that the party at Yeonjun's place?" You asked, pointing to one where they were drinking. "Hey, isn't that me when I finally launched my business?" You pointed to a photo of her wearing a suit. "And there's me hanging out with the boys." Y/N pointed to a photo of them at a pool. "When we got married. Ooh, and when we got Emily." You giggled. You were now enveloped in a heap of memories, and you ended up cuddling. "I love you so much. We've come so far, hm?" Soobin whispered. "I love you so much, Binnie." You replied.

#choi soobin #soobin #soobin imagines #txt #tommorrow x together #txt imagines #soobin fluff #soobin angst #txt fluff #txt angst #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #imagines #oneshots #fluff #chaotictsukkiwrites

57 notes · View notes

cutie1365 · 4 years ago

Text

God i need to fucking rant about this bitch. How do I always get stuck with the shittiest fucking roommates man.

I’m tired of two faced bitches who say one thing to you and turn around and do the complete opposite.

Why can logic and common sense not get through to this bitch????

First her mother destroys my furniture by fucking spray painting it! Spray paint! Without my knowledge or permission! These fucking back woods idiots who wouldn’t know their head from their ass.

They moved all my boxes and furniture without me knowing and left shit everywhere and somehow my shit ended up in their car six hours away and if I wasn’t on my shit they would have stolen it and I would have never gotten it back.

All my furniture was damaged from them throwing it about and leaving it in the hot sun outside. My TV was laying in the yard for an hour unwatched in 100 degree heat. How it wasn’t stolen is beside me.

Then this bitch thinks it’s smart to have a 145lb dog and leave us to watch it while she works 12 hour shifts. We’re not ur fucking babysitter.

And when we tell her it’s not our responsibility to watch her dog SHE HAS THE AUDACITY TO YELL AT ME. Talking bout how we knew she had a dog. Yeah bitch YOU have a dog, not me. Not my other roommates. Your fucking dog. Not our job to babysit and let it out to piss and see what’s wrong when she’s crying locked in her shoe box room.

She agreed to wipe the dogs paws when she brings her in from outside so we don’t track the dirt into the house. Before we moved in we discussed this. She said YEAH NO PROBLEM. Then when she never once did it- we said what happened to that huh we talked about that. She says “Why would I do that? It’s a dog we’re gonna get dirt inside”. Bitch I know you live in a fucking pigsty in the middle of butt fuck no where but here we don’t want to be stepping in mug and grass in our fucking living room.

She said she’d sweep up after the dog a few times a week because she SHEDSSS like crazy. Yeah she’s never once swept and when we brought that up she says “we’re not gonna have a spotless house what do u expect”. Bitch the other three of us are cleaning up after ur ass all the time. You may be used to living in filth because you’ve never cleaned anything a day in your life, but we like to not collect a pile of dog hair on our feet just from walking from one end of the living room to the other.

So she yells, and I don’t take shit so I yell back. Bottom line, take care of your own dog we’re not doing it for you.

She’s also killing the poor dog. She’s locked up without peeing for 12 hours a day, gets no exercise. She never talks her. Then when she comes home she lets her out then goes into her room and falls asleep so the dog basically is in the tiny room 24 hours a day with no exercise. She’s a fucking Great Dane. The room is so small she can only lay on the bed all day.

And she feeds her 20 count Chickfila Chicken nuggets. That’s so bad! And this is a regular thing. Not like a treat every once and a while. Human food all the time. The dog won’t eat her dry food anymore. She’ll just dump whatever’s in the fridge into the bowl. I once saw her feed the dog tortilla soup. TORTILLA SOUP.

Here’s the fucking kicker- SHES TRYING TO BE A VET. This woman is killing her own dog and she thinks she can go take care of others.

She also has the vocabulary and reading comprehension skills of a 2nd grader and you think you can survive higher education. She thinks she’s fucking god and shits on people in liberal arts colleges or other degrees besides hers, yet she can’t write a two page paper.

She needs to realize she has 3 other roommates. We talked about keeping the common space free of clutter and personal items so that everyone can use it and it stays clean. She agreed. Then she put a huge fucking dog bed in the living room after we explicitly said were putting a big plant here. (The dog has never sat in it because it’s locked in the room all day). And so when my roommates propose a compromise of leaving the bed in her room and taking it out when she’s sitting out in the living room she said “no, I’m not budging). You fucking cunt. She’s doing it just to pisss me off I swear. It has never been used, it is a waste of space, we are putting something else in that spot, it’s ugly, and it SMELLS.

HER WHOLE ROOM SMELLS SO BAD THAT IT LINGERS INTO HALF THE LIVING ROOM. And her room is right by the front door so it hits u right when u walk in. I swear I think that dogs peeing in her room. You’d think someone died in there.

The dog vomits and has diarrhea alll the time cuz she feeds her shit. That poor dog is gonna die because she’s neglecting her.

AND THEN

The day after this conversation of “you haven’t followed thru on any of the things we agreed on before and the dog is ur responsibility not ours, we’re not taking care of it for you”.... SHE BLOCKS ME ON TWITTER.

My other roommate wakes me up to show me she turned her twitter private and kicked me off then posted some big rant and said “Friendly reminder that NO ONE has the right to not treat you with kindness. You are loved, appreciated, and deserve to be here as much as anyone else. In the midst of this pandemic, cut out those who provide anything other than support and positive energy”.

What fucking baffles me is that my other two roommates were by my side and we all said the same thing so why she’s singling me out is beside me. And how can us saying “we’re worried for the health of ur pet because she’s locking in a room all day and needs to pee” is negative energy. Kill ur fucking dog for all we care then bitch, we brought up our concern now it’s on you.

It’s been a fucking month. This is going to be the longest 12 month lease of my life.

And she’s one of those people who has family money then turns around and says she’s poor and her family’s poor and she had to help buy them groceries this summer. Then turn around and buy a $2,000 ring for fun. She has small town money where they have those ugly checkered Louis vutton bags and she wants gucci boots, but then she’s like idk I don’t have money for groceries I can’t contribute.

And I know in the end everything will work out. Because she’ll go right back to living in that small as town and never leave. But dear lord please don’t let her be a vet. Spare those poor animals. It’s not their fault she’s a brainless fuckup.

And like if she was just dumb, fine. She can’t help that. But then she wants to turn it around and act like she’s a fucking genius and everyone is below her.

AND I FOUND OUT SHE VOTED FOR TRUMPPPPP.

Kill me. Just kill me.

I guess I’ll update y’all cuz I’m sure she’ll do more dumb shit soon and I need to rant because it physically PAINS me how angry I get. Like a knot in my chest how she can’t see logic or common sense.

OO and after her mom painted my furniture... because they had damaged it and instead of telling me and offering to help fix it. They took it out of my room and spray painted it (the wrong color and just let it drip if anyone knows how to properly use spray paint). So I told her hey just letting u know that really upset me, I know it was ur mom and not you and you probably didn’t know it happened, but I’m mad and it will take me a few days to get over it. Just so she’s not like Oo why is she mad at me why’s she not talking to me. And she was like I completely understand my mom feels really bad I’m so sorry I didn’t know she did that. Ok we’re all good go about our days.

THEN I find out from my other roommate that she had talked to her and was like Idk why she’s mad, I’m mad that she’s mad. BITCH. What if I took ur furniture out of ur room and decided to spray paint some random lines on it in a different color. I had to sand and repaint it (with fucking paint not spray paint because why the fuck would u do that).

I’m bout to catch a charge lol I get so headed just remembering it.

So yeah if y’all wanna give me some validation that I’m not crazy and this isn’t normal behavior please do, I’m spiraling.

This was a long ass rant but this is my life.

Any witches out there wanna manifest her coming to her senses or moving out and still paying her rent lol that would be great.

Karma honey, nows ur time to shine. Take care of it

#rant #sorry #bad roommate #roommates #roommate #horrible #sherlock x reader #sherlock imagine #peter parker x reader #sherlock #reader insert #benedict cumberbatch x reader #peter parker imagines #sherlock imagines #peter parker imagine #marvel x reader

125 notes · View notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

Text

The Wedding Date (Part 2)

Summary: When the reader is in desperate need of a date to her sister’s wedding, she calls a service to fulfill the need and ends up meeting Dean Winchester…

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 7,400ish

Warnings: language, family angst/drama, scary situation

_______

After your shower you changed into a short sleeve romper, a pretty deep green that reminded you of the forest outside. With a hum you wandered out to the bedroom, spotting Dean laying on the bed watching TV.

“How was exploring?” you asked.

“This place is huge. I wouldn’t mind going out on the lake at some point if that’s okay,” he said.

“For sure,” you said, bending over to throw your hair up in a messy bun. You fixed it a bit in the mirror in there, catching Dean watching you. “What?”

“You look like a model or something,” he said. You stared before bursting out laughing, Dean giving you a small smile. “It’s true.”

“Ten bucks my mom tells me I look like a boy,” you said, grabbing a spare hair tie and your bracelet from the nightstand, slipping them back on your wrist.

“You look like some preppy girl, definitely not a boy,” he said, watching you step into a pair of sandals and zip up the backs.

“Still,” you said, looking yourself over before you put on some lip balm. “Are you hungry? We can get something to eat.”

“Sure,” he said. “Should I change?”

“Wear whatever you want,” you said. He rolled off the bed and went over to his bag, grabbing a few things before he stepped inside the bathroom. You’d just finished with some mascara when the door opened. Dean stepped out in a pair of khaki shorts and a gray button down with the sleeves rolled up. He took out the Sperry’s from his bag and put them on his feet before he turned to you.

“This okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. You look like you fit in already,” you said.

“I’m used to hanging out with rich people. I get how they can be,” he said.

“If you need space just say your allergies are acting up. It can be our code word if they get to be too much for you,” you said.

“Okay. Don’t worry so much,” he said. You sighed and shoved your phone and room key in your pocket, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and waving him out ahead of you. You walked quietly down the hall together, most people arriving later in time for the party. You were nearly at the elevator when you heard a whistle.

“If it isn’t my baby sister,” said Jason, your oldest brother. He was fifteen years older and you were the definition of a kid sister. He ran over from his room and gave you a hug, picking you up off the ground. “Clean up all pretty, don’t you?”

“Too bad we can’t do anything about your face,” you said.

“You still need better insults,” he said, turning his attention to Dean. “Hi, sorry. Jason. I don’t get to see Y/N that much so we tend to make up for lost time. You are?”

“Dean Winchester and lucky enough to be seeing your beautiful sister,” said Dean, shaking hands with Jason. Your brother looked at Dean and then you, narrowing his eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“You got a boyfriend,” he said, a big smirk crossing his face. “Oh, I don’t think baby sis has ever had a-“

“Shut up,” you said, Jason snapping his jaw closed. “Dean, let's go to lunch and I don’t tell you everything about my dating life, Jason.”

“Yeah cause you don’t talk to me,” he said as you pulled Dean into the elevator, Jason following you inside.

“When am I supposed to talk to you? You’re a workaholic with a wife and two small kids,” you said.

“I can see you’re going to be exactly the way you always are at these. Well it’s Lauren’s wedding so please try to pretend like you don’t hate your family,” he said. “For our sake.”

“Can you try to pretend like you’re an adult and not jump down her throat for having a reasonable explanation of why she doesn’t talk to you a lot? If you were my brother, I don’t think I’d want to talk to you either,” said Dean.

“Watch your mouth, Winchester,” said Jason, grumpily trudging out ahead of you and Dean.

“Someone’s a little pissy,” said Dean. “He always like that?”

“What would you say if I told you that he’s who I get along with best out of my siblings?”

“I say I am so beginning to understand you not wanting to face this alone,” he said. You saw Jason pause for a moment, probably catching part of the conversation. You grabbed Dean’s hand and walked past him, feeling his stare on your back as you headed towards the dining area.

“Hey,” said Jason. You rolled your eyes and spun around, Jason taking a deep breath. “I know I’m busy a lot. You could call or text every once in a while is all I’m saying.”

“I stopped when you stopped answering. Forget it, Jason. It’s fine. We’ll see you at the dinner later,” you said. You pulled Dean along and through the open french doors, sighing as you found a table by the back window to sit at. He slid in across from you and stared at you, pursing his lip. “What?”

“He could call too,” he said. “I know a thing or two about non-responsive brothers. Sucks to be the only one that cares sometimes.”

“He’s just busy. He’s at a different place in life. It’s fine,” you said. A waiter brought over a pair of menus with a smile. “Order whatever you like, Dean. Can I get a slice of key lime pie and a bottle of beer?”

“I’ll have what she’s having,” said Dean. “Extra big piece.”

The guy grabbed the menus and Dean chuckled when he left.

“I’m really starting to like you, sweetheart,” he said. “Pie and beer. Not what I was expecting.”

“If I have another cobb salad I may vomit,” you said. “I am eating whatever the hell I want this week and I advise you do the same. The good booze will be out tonight so take advantage of that.”

“I’ll be sure to,” he said. You looked outside, catching sight of Jason walking out the back door over to a group of people sitting at a table. “Who’s that?”

“My siblings and their spouses aside from my brother, Brent. I don’t think him and his fiance are here yet. He’s seven years older than me. He’s next closest in age,” you said. “His wedding is in November. If my life is still a wreck, I may need to hire you again.”

“Pay me like this again and I’ll pay off that loan in no time,” he said. “You want to go sit with them?”

“Not really,” you said, looking across the room, spotting the waiter with your food. “I’ll have to face them by the end of the day. I’m okay with hiding until then.”

He was quiet as you got your drinks and dessert, Dean humming after his first bite. He gave a thumbs up and you smirked at the fact he got a bigger piece than normal as requested. You poked at yours for a moment, Dean snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“You okay? You looked out of it,” he said.

“Daydreaming,” you said. You took a bite and pushed your whip cream to the side, Dean quick to steal it for himself. “Do you like owning a garage?”

“Eh, I hate the bills but being your own boss isn’t too bad,” he said. “It’s a love hate relationship. It’s not what I thought I’d be doing to be honest.”

“Really? You said you went to college,” you said.

“I was going to do something else but my dad got sick. He’s fine now but he couldn’t run the garage anymore. I took his half of the garage and then the other guy retired right after we remodeled and expanded. It was crappy timing was all,” he said.

“What’d you want to be?” you asked.

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no, don’t apologize. It’s...I was dating this girl back then. She was a pastry chef. Incredible, like born with it kind of talent. She went to culinary school. She was going to New York City to work in a top restaurant and I was going to move out there with her and work for the New York Yankees as one of their athletic trainers.”

“Seriously? Wow, you must be good at baseball,” you said with a smirk, Dean putting on a shy smile. “Oh come on.”

“I got a scholarship for school. It’s how I could afford to go. It was a dream job, once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s been too many years now though and I haven’t picked up a bat in forever,” he said.

“What happened with the girl if that’s okay,” you said. He shrugged and sipped on his beer, nursing it a moment.

“She cheated on me the first week she was out there,” he said. “I was ‘holding her back’ and had been for a long time. Exactly what I needed to hear three days after my dad had a massive heart attack.”

“Sounds like a bitch.”

He chuckled and nodded his head.

“You got any shitty exes?” he asked.

“No. I’ve been on a lot of first dates, second dates, even the occasional third. Nothing ever stuck,” you said.

“Me either,” he said, knocking back the rest of his drink. “Not worth the aggravation, trust me.”

“You said your dad’s okay now, right?” you asked. He nodded and offered a quick smile.

“Yeah, he’s good. He can’t eat the way he used to and he has to workout now but my little brother is pretty good about keeping on him about that stuff,” said Dean.

“Just the one brother?”

“Yeah. I don’t have a whole pack like you,” he said. “Baby of the family must suck. They all seem a bit older.”

“They never include me in anything. I’m only in the wedding because my mom made Lauren. She’s always hated me,” you said.

“She’s your sister. I doubt she hates you,” he said.

“Remember how I said Jason is the nicest? I meant it,” you said.

“...Well if you want me to go protective asshole boyfriend, I am more than willing,” he said.

“Thanks, Dean. I’d rather try to keep the peace this week,” you said, eating your last bite. “Anything you want to do? You mentioned the lake?”

“Whatever’s good with you,” he said.

“Come on. We’ll take one of the canoes out,” you said. “You totally want more beer for the boat, right?”

“Woman after my own heart,” he teased.

“Give me ten minutes to put in an order and then we will be on our way.”

Dean excused himself to the restroom while you put in the drinks. You ducked in the bathroom for a moment, exiting to find Dean standing around in the lobby.

“You can swim right?” you asked.

“Yes, dork,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulder. You almost made a comment but you saw your parents come down the stairs. You got out of there before they could catch up with you, heading straight outside as your siblings were all starting to get up.

“Hey, there’s Y/N. Now we’re just missing Brent,” said Lauren, plastering a fake smile on her face. She rushed over and gave you a hug, giving Dean a side eye. “Who’s this? I hope you paid him good!”

Your face felt hot as you stared at her, barely noticing Dean wrap an arm around your waist and give it a tight squeeze.

“Oh you can’t buy me, honey,” said Dean, giving her a smile back before he kissed your cheek. “Is this your oldest sister?”

She frowned and you bit down you smirk, Jason not bothering to hide his.

“I’m Lauren, Y/N’s middle sister,” she said. “You’re Y/N’s plus one?”

“I guess I am,” said Dean. “Sorry. Y/N and I had a horribly long drive and I promised her a little one on one time before you all take her away. I look forward to getting to know you all tonight though. Come on, sweetheart.”

Dean pulled you off of the patio and down a few steps to the path and it took everything in you not to look back.

“Too much?” he asked.

“Oh, I fucking loved that,” you said, Dean giving you a high five.

“No offense but your brothers and sisters are all like...incredibly passive aggressive towards you. It’s kinda weird to do that for no reason,” he said.

“They’ve all been that way since as far back as I can remember. I just don’t think they like me very much. The unplanned kid,” you said. “I think I threw a wrench in my parents lives and theirs.”

“You didn’t ask for that. What, they mad cause they have to share their trust fund? They can grow up,” he said.

“Well thank you but please do try to play nice with them, and my parents. It is Lauren’s wedding like Jason said.”

“Is that how they always get you to back down? Tell you it’s not your turn, it’s about someone else?”

You slowed your walk and bit your bottom lip.

“You’re very perceptive for a fake boyfriend,” you said.

“Hey, I gotta use that psychology minor for something,” he said.

“Business owner, baseball, psych...you’re a little enigma, aren’t you, Dean Winchester,” you said.

“Is that latin for adorable?” he said. You laughed, a big genuine one that had Dean throwing his arm over your shoulders. “You stick with me and you’re gonna survive this week just fine, sweetheart.”

“I sincerely hope I do,” you said. The path down to the docks went slowly, Dean taking his time to look around at the lake in front of you, the trees around, glancing at the different parts of the resort all around. “It’s an outdoor wedding as you can tell. They’re already decorating.”

“This place is really beautiful,” he said. “How much does a normal night in a place like this cost?”

“I think the lowest package is $600 a day per person. All inclusive,” you said. “Better room, better booze, more options, price goes up. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to make it more affordable.”

“Do you work here?” he asked. “You never really mentioned what you do.”

“I’m on the board, all us kids are. I don’t have a real job per say,” you said. “You probably think I’m even more of a spoiled brat, don’t you.”

“I never said that. If you don’t work, how do you fill your day?” he asked.

“Different things. Workout, do some of my own stuff like write or do resort stuff. I get lunch and then I volunteer at a few places in the afternoons,” you said. “Jason and my other older brother Dan and my oldest sister Aria, they all work in the family business. They run things with my parents. Lauren and Brent and me all kind of do more charity work I guess.”

“Well I think that’s a very good use of your time,” said Dean. “People who can afford to give back should.”

“I agree. It’s not like I’ll ever have a job here,” you said.

“What’d you want to be when you grew up?” he asked.

“A ghost,” you said. Dean laughed and grabbed your hand as you walked past a few workers on the path. “I’m serious!”

“I wanted to be a ghostbuster,” he said.

“Well that too of course,” you said.

“You wanted to fly around?” he asked.

“I saw that movie Casper as a kid. I don’t know. I’ve always been invisible to a degree with my family. It made sense at the time,” you said. “We should go over the schedule for the week probably.”

“Well I am going to show you off and make sure they see you,” he said. “You can count on it.”

“You’re not half bad for a fake boyfriend, Dean.”

“I could say the same,” he said, smiling as you finally made your way to the docks. “Now I think we should discuss our 4 wheeling trip, don’t you? Something fun to look forward to?”

“You think you can handle it?” you teased.

“Oh, I know I can,” he said, letting you guide him over to a canoe marked off for you. “Ladies first.”

You grabbed the aqua colored life jacket and pulled it on, letting Dean get the bright blue on himself.

“Here,” you said, tugging on the strap when he get tangled up. “If we’re gonna be drinking, better safe than sorry.”

“You’re the expert, not me,” he said. You left your phones on the dock before you helped Dean in the canoe, handing him a paddle before you took off. It was quieter on the water and you felt Dean’s gaze on your back as you started to slow. You spun around on your bottom and opened the cooler sat between you. “So where do you go riding?”

“See over that way?” you asked, pointing to the northern side of the lake. “It’s about a twenty minute drive. There’s a town over there and about ten minutes past that is the local riding trails. You ever ride before?”

“A few times in a field,” he said.

“Alex will loan you some gear to wear.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Weren’t we doing that already?” you said. “Shoot, Winchester.”

“Why don’t you make it past the third date?” he asked. “You could land whoever you want out there.”

“That’s very kind of you but normally by the third date is when they find out I come from this. It’s hard to trust a stranger when they look at you like you’re suddenly a bank account.”

“Not a one ever worked out?” he asked.

“This is taking a depressing turn, Dean,” you said.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to do with my shitty dating history,” you said.

“You’re not the only one with one,” he said, taking a beer out and cracking it open. “So what’s this dinner tonight? How do the fancy people do it?”

“It’s kind of this tradition. The family, my parents and the kids, we have a family dinner with just us before everyone else shows up,” you said. “It’s normally my least favorite event.”

“Well we should come up with some things to brag about, hm?”

Later That Evening

“Uh oh,” said Dean, ducking into the bathroom as you pouted in front of the mirror. “Someone looks grumpy.”

“I can’t do this. I paid you...what kind of freak am I? They’re gonna find out and-” you said, Dean putting both his hands on your shoulders.

“Relax. You’re in a bind and so am I. Think of it as two friends helping each other out, okay? It’s a dinner. You’ll survive,” he said.

“You look nice in your suit,” you said, smoothing out your dinner dress. “We should head down.”

You started to turn to leave but he caught your cheek and you turned back, Dean tilting his head.

“If you need to get out of there, I think maybe we have a codeword for you too. Say your stomach is bothering you?” he asked.

“You’re sweet,” you said with a nod. “Let’s face the music.”

“You look very beautiful,” he said, shoving his wallet in his pants pocket.

“Dean, when we’re alone, you don’t have to act like my boyfriend,” you said.

“Alright. I didn’t think I was,” he said. He slipped past you and tugged on his suit jacket, fixing it before you followed him out and down towards the stairs. He was cool and calm right up until you walked to the outdoor dining area, Dean swallowing but putting on a friendly face quickly.

“Y/N! We haven’t seen you all day,” said your mom as she gave you a hug. “Dean’s been keeping you busy it seems.”

“Yes, very,” you said. You looked around the table, spotting an open spot next to Dan. You took Dean’s hand and guided him over to sit, a glass of white wine quickly in front of you.

“Oh, sorry, I don’t like white,” said Dean to the server.

“We have whatever you could want,” said your dad.

“Whiskey on the rocks?” asked Dean.

“Double,” you said, holding up a finger. Lauren gave you a look but put a smile on her face.

“So I know Calvin and I are super excited to have everyone with us. We just wish his parents could have gotten in for the party tonight but I know all of you will make him feel right at home,” she said. “Oh and Dean too. I know we’re all dying to get to know Y/N’s little friend.”

“Oh it’s your guys day, week. Please feel free to take the spotlight off of me,” said Dean. “Congratulations.”

She seemed to ease up at that, some bread coming out along with your drinks. You were quiet, listening in somewhat, Dean being goofy and making you hide a laugh as he picked at the loaf in front of you.

“Dean,” said your dad, the table going silent. “How’d you two meet?”

“In a little coffee shop. It was almost like a movie or something. I fell for her right on the spot,” he said. “Of course she thought I was weird when I kept staring at her. It took a good half hour before she gave me a shot.”

“You asked her out?” asked Dan, Aria making a face at him. “No offense, Y/N. He’s kinda hot is all.”

Dean made a face before he turned to your parents. Your mom whacked Dan and you sighed.

“Hey, good for you. Most of us aren’t that lucky is all,” he said.

“What is that supposed to mean, Daniel?” said his wife, Greta.

“Nothing! We met at school. I think you’re hot too! Geez,” he said.

“Excuse him,” said your mom. “I for one think it’s wonderful that Y/N has found such a lovely young man. It’s about time.”

You gripped your thigh under the table, Dean’s hand finding yours and giving it a squeeze.

“I think we all deserve to find someone, no matter when that happens,” said Dean. “Right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you said, getting a smile out of him.

“Y/N tells me the Y/L/N family normally has some fun activities during their weddings,” said Dean.

“Oh and you guys are gonna love what Calvin and I have planned,” said Lauren. “We-”

The string lights shut off and you saw the inside of the resort go dark, a generator kicking on to turn on part of the inside after a moment.

“Aiden,” said your dad as he came walking by past the kids table. “Can you please figure out how to get the power back on?”

“Of course,” he said, quickly heading inside. Dean pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, other’s doing the same and quickly you had a decent amount of light. There was a little patter of feet as Jason’s two kids ran over to him.

“Girls, it’s just the power. It’s fine,” he said.

“No it was the monster,” said Abby, the oldest. She pointed off towards the woods and you rolled your eyes.

“Abby, there’s nothing there,” you said.

“Aunt Y/N yeah there was!” she said.

“Alright,” said Dean, knocking back the rest of his drink. “Time to go hunt some monsters. I’ll be right back girls.”

He stood up and you shook your head, Dean taking a walk down the path past the kids table and over towards the woods.

“I like him,” said Brent. “Nice ass too.”

“Brent,” said Lauren, rolling her eyes.

“Oh I agree,” said his fiance Peter. You watched Dean walk across the grass and over to the woods, holding up his phone. You swore you saw something in the dark trees but you were far away and it was nearly pitch black. “Did anyone else see that?”

“Uh huh,” you heard a few voices say as you got to your feet.

“Dean!” you called. “You can come back now!”

He took a few steps forward before a shot rang off and Dean’s phone fell to the ground.

“Everyone inside, now,” said your dad. You stared out in the dark, waiting for a flicker of the light to come back as there was rustling all around you.

“Inside,” growled Jason as he picked you up and quickly walked the two of you through the back door. Your dad locked it after you and you had enough common sense to plant your feet on the ground.

“Hey. Dean is still-”

“We don’t know what happened,” he said quietly. “I am not risking my children to find out.”

“Well he’s my friend and I’m the reject of the family so who cares? It could be a damn hunting accident for all we know,” you said. You put a hand on the lock and you felt Jason’s arm around you again. “I swear if you don’t stop doing-”

“Bring her up to our suite,” said your mom with a sigh. “Please everyone go to your rooms. Kids, meet in ours. We need to talk about this.”

You narrowed your eyes, watching in some strange synchronized way how everyone did as asked, Jason setting you down after a moment in favor of grabbing your arm and pulling you upstairs.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked. He shook his head and you followed your dad into your parents room, your siblings all filing in and settling around the room, your mom taking her time to return and lock the door shut after herself. You went over to the backdoor to look for Dean but this time you felt two pairs of hands on you pulling you back. Your older brothers walked you back to the couch and sat you down.

You looked around, no one looking you in the eye and you stood up.

“This is not helping. I am going-”

“Sit your ass down. I am done,” said your dad. You swallowed and sat back in your seat, your dad running his hands over his face. “It’s done. No more. You all knew this was a possibility and now it’s happening.”

“Uh, hi. Possibly shot boyfriend out in the yard and I have zero fucking clue what you are talking about,” you said.

“You know how you’re the baby,” said Lauren. “Like even Brent is quite a bit older.”

“Yes. There’s an age gap. I am aware, Lauren,” you said. She glanced to your parents, Jason leaning forward in his seat.

“You’re not my daughter,” said your dad.

“What?” you laughed. “You’re my dad.”

“I know I’m your dad, sweetie. It doesn’t mean I’m your father,” he said. You wiped the smile off your face, your mom closing her eyes. “Your mother had an affair. You were a result of it.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to wrap your head around that. “I...that’s not true. This is some really...lame prank...right?”

“Why do you think they didn’t like you?” asked Jason. You bit your bottom lip and he gave you a smile. “Proof of cheating. Proof of a marriage that was failing. Proof of a lack of love. You have always thought we hated you. We all know it.”

You swallowed and put your head in your hands, a shaky breath escaping you. There was a hand on your back and you sat up straight, taking a big gulp of air as tears formed in your eyes.

“Some people may have left a two year old unattended near a pool by herself and thought the problem would take care of itself,” said Jason, throwing a dirty look across the room to Aria, Dan and Lauren.

“Oh. Awesome,” you said, standing up and wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That was a fucking accident and you know it, Jason. I miscounted and thought she was ahead of us. It was a fucking mistake. That was before that whole night even happened,” said Aria.

“Well you’ve always been a bitch to her. You all have. I’m not perfect but I’m nearly fifteen years older than her and it was kinda hard to be around for the kid,” he said.

“Would you all just shut the fuck up,” you said. The room went silent as you walked back towards the window, spotting a light in the grass again. “There’s light in the yard.”

“You can’t go out there,” said your dad as you headed for the door.

“Why on earth would I want to stay with you people? You’ve all apparently lied to me my entire life. My own brothers and sisters have bullied me and made me feel so horrible about myself...why do you think I don’t talk to any of you? You’re all so condescending and look at me like I’m less than you. At least now I understand why,” you said.

“Y/N,” said your mom. She stood and shook her head, guiding you to sit next to her. “Your birth father is an incredibly dangerous man. Incredibly. We decided...after an incident occured when you were three, we told the children about him and made them swear to never tell you. To protect you. Maybe we never called them out on their behavior like we should have and maybe we are not the best parents in the world but everyone in this room has spent many, many years, protecting you.”

“Porecting me? You gave me an eating disorder when I was in highschool,” you said to Lauren. “You’re damn lucky I finally broke out of it in college. Dan, you broke my arm and never apologized. Aria, you made made me so nervous about relationships, I never even got laid until last year. Brent, you accused me of not liking the fact you were gay when I’m the one that told your fucking fiance that you guys would be so good for each other when I’ve known since I was twelve by the way. Jason...maybe you weren’t as bad but you left me alone to grow up in this. Do you all want to know the best part? Dean isn’t even my boyfriend. I hired him to pretend to be mine to get all of you people off my back when it turns out, that was never going to happen. You know and maybe I did hire him but he’s been my friend all day long and I’m going to go make sure he’s okay.”

You got up and left before any of them could stop you. You jogged down the stairs and into the lobby, looking around until you headed towards the backdoor.

A hand yanked you back and covered your mouth, warm lips brushing your ear.

“Sh. It’s me,” said Dean. “Be quiet.”

He dropped his hands away and laced your fingers together, jogging the two of you upstairs. You ducked into your own room, Dean shutting the door silently behind himself.

“What happened out there?” you asked.

“I saw a guy in the woods and he shot my phone so I hit the deck and ran. When the coast was clear, I headed back up here,” he said.

“You didn’t get your phone? We saw it moving around in the yard,” you said.

“It wasn’t me,” he said. You sat on the edge of the bed and Dean knelt down in front of you. “It’s just a bad person probably looking to rob the place or a really idiot hunter. It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t know. I just learned a whole bunch of family stuff and I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I’ll pay you whatever you want. I-“

“Hey,” he said, cupping your cheeks. “Relax, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry. This is-”

“I said relax. Take a deep breath,” he said. He did the motion and you followed him, Dean smiling after a few tries. “There we go. Better?”

“A little. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It was only a phone,” he said. The lights kicked back on fully and he immediately frowned. “Y/N. Don’t cry. I promise it’s okay.”

“It’s not you. My family knows about you. I just told them. First thing in the morning I’ll drive you home and try to fix this,” you said. There was a knock at the door and Dean got up slowly.

“Y/N? You in there?” asked Jason. Dean went over to the door and cracked it open a hair. “Oh. Hey. Y/N in there?”

“What do you need Jason?” asked Dean.

“Police are out front. They caught a couple of teenagers hunting illegally,” he said. “You probably want to talk to them.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” said Dean. “By the way, now that everything’s out in the open and all...be nicer to your sister.”

“Yeah. I sort of got that part already,” he said. “Can I talk to her?”

You shook your head and Dean turned back to the door, giving Jason a look.

“Tell her...forget it. I’ll ask the kitchen to send up your guys dinner,” he said.

“Bottle of something very alcoholic would go a long way too,” said Dean. He shut the door and ran his hands over his face. “Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you said, staring at the floor.

“I’m going to go talk to the cops. Why don’t you take a soak in that jetted tub in there. We can have our own night, okay?” he asked. He rubbed a hand up and down your back and you turned your head towards him.

“Dean. They know I paid you. You don’t have to pretend anymore,” you said. “It’s okay. Really.”

“Maybe you paid me but you’re my friend now and you look like you had a hell of a night. I nearly got shot. So why don’t we do what friends do and have a little sleepover and get drunk. That sounds good to me,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said. You stood up and gathered some pajamas up before you headed into the bathroom, looking over your shoulder at him. He ran his hand over his face and you saw red on the back of his hand before he was on his feet and leaving.

After a few minutes you had the tub filled and got in the water, washing your face a few times. A part of you seriously considered driving home first thing in the morning and never speaking to any of them ever again. You had more questions than answers now though and you did love them, even if you didn’t really want to at the moment.

Then there was the whole dangerous father thing that had you on edge.

“Y/N?” said Dean, knocking on the door, making you jump. “Dinner’ll be up soon. I got us some dessert too.”

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

You let yourself soak a few more minutes before you got out and dried off. You changed and walked back into the bedroom to find Dean in his pajamas, sitting on the bed with a roll of gauze in his hand. He stared up at you as you pouted.

“What happened?” you asked, taking a seat next to him, gently taking his wrist.

“Cop said I probably got grazed,” he said. “I cleaned it downstairs. I didn’t want to put on the stupid bandage.”

“Well you should, even if it’s just for the night,” you said. You reached across his lap and picked the white roll up, careful of his hand as you wrapped it for him.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, settling his hands in his lap.

“I’m going to set the alarm for six. We can get on the road early,” you said. He raised an eyebrow at you, a soft look forming on his face. “Going home, Dean.”

“Don’t you still have a wedding?” he asked.

“I won’t make you stay. Tonight could have been so bad.”

“It was an accident. Barely an accident. I didn’t even press charges. I am fine, Y/N. I’m not running off and leaving you with these assholes on your own. You’re too nice to just ditch your sister’s wedding so I know you aren’t going anywhere so I guess I’m not either.”

“Your ex was such an idiot,” you said. Dean laughed and nodded his head.

“Yeah. I’m kinda glad things happened the way they did. I don’t think things would have worked out anyways,” he said. There was a knock at the door and a moment later Dean returned with a cart, some food and a bottle of the good scotch on top. “Well that looks expensive. Seems like your brother is trying to apologize.”

“Half-brother,” you said, standing and grabbing the bottle, pouring a triple for yourself, knocking most of it back in one go. You shivered as it burned down your throat, Dean blankly staring at you.

“Half-brother?”

“Oh, have I got a story for you.”

“Wow,” said Dean an hour later, the two of you picking at the last of the ice cream pie. “I mean wow.”

“Yeah,” you said, handing the bottle over to Dean for a refill. He took a long drink, shaking his head out.

“Do you really think they hated you?” he asked.

“No. But I don’t think they liked me. I don’t know if it’s because our mom cheated or I took a share of their trust fund money or they were supposedly always having to protect me. What kind of bullshit is that by the way? Protect me? Those assholes hurt me nearly my whole life,” you said.

“You don’t have the eating disorder anymore, right?” he asked, licking the whipped cream off his fork.

“No,” you said, Dean smiling back at you. “It was just in highschool and a bit of college. The more I was on my own, the easier it was to get better.”

“Good. You’re perfect the way you are,” he said.

“Let’s not go that far,” you said with a laugh as you rolled back on the bed, tilting your head back at him. “I think I’m kinda drunk.”

“Oh, I think that’s safe to say,” he said, taking another forkful of pie before he rolled right next to you. “At least you’re not the only one.”

“Do you like doing this?” you asked, Dean resting his chin on his hands. “Getting paid to be a date?”

“Not really. I mean, despite the nearly being shot, this is my favorite job I’ve had,” he said.

“How much is your loan?” you asked.

“Okay drunk girl, we’re not going there,” he said.

“I had to try,” you said.

“You really don’t.”

“S’not fair. You didn’t even want that job and you got stuck with it and then you got stuck with this other job and s’not fair, Dean. You should be able to do what you want and not worry and have a girlfriend and your weekends and nights back and it’s not fair you know? I just-”

“You’re drunk and you had a bad night. No way in Hell would I take your moeny, sweetheart. I appreciate the offer, I do, but it’s my bed and I gotta lie in it. You got your own,” he said.

“Well maybe I’m just tired of sleeping alone,” you said.

“What are we talking about anymore?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you breathed out.

“Me either,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows. You reached across the bed and grabbed his hand, drawing shapes on his palm until he squeezed it shut around you. He pushed it away gently, quietly crawling over and looking down at you staring right back. “To be clear, I’m off the clock.”

“Okay,” you said.

He dipped his head low and kissed you, letting you cup his cheek as he very slowly broke away. He laid next to you, turning to face you, a tiny smile on your face. He returned it, closing his eyes after a moment.

“Why’d you kiss me?” you asked.

“I wanted to,” he said. “Was that okay?”

“It wasn’t not okay,” you said. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Just...I might do it again as a warning,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He moved his bandaged hand up to your face and pushed a strand of hair aside. “Why do you want to kiss me, Dean?”

“Cause I like you,” he said. “You don’t treat me like meat or make me feel bad about the fact I do this. Out of all those people, out of all your strong brothers and brother in laws and all that, you’re the one that when you thought something happened to me, you tried to come help me. You’re cute and sarcastic and I like you.”

“You don’t think I’m pathetic?”

“No. I never have. You have trust issues and so do I. I think we have more in common than what you see at the surface.”

“People don’t talk like that in real life,” you said.

“I do. If I trust the other person.”

“Can we do the rest of this trip as friends? Not as a date for hire.”

“Yeah,” he said as you took his hand and ran your thumb over the back of it. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

You brought it up to your face and kissed it, Dean smiling.

“All better now,” he said. “You doing alright?”

“I don’t know,” you said. You jammed your face in his shoulder, Dean’s arm moving to wrap it around you. “I’m glad you’re here, Dean.”

“Me too, sweetheart.”

_______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean spn #dean #winchester #dean spn au #au

371 notes · View notes