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hereforhalstead · 3 years ago

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Hungry Eyes

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader 18+

• Requested: Yeeeess by my bestie @halsteadlover who always sets the bar so high and provided me with this.

reader's friend that come to visit her and Jay is jealous but nobody knows about their relationship so he can't even say anything about it and then he corners Reader when they r alone and shows her who she belongs to iykyk kwnejekwnsked i know this is a shitty idea but whit ur writing bestie it'd be ✨ chef's kiss ✨’i

• Warnings: swearing/Daddy kink/smut references

• Summary: Jay gets jealous after an old friend turns up at the district to ask you out for lunch and reminds you who you belong to.

• Words: 4218

• A/N :lysm you’re the best but pls don’t come after me if this disappoints hahah Enjoy🤭

***

You woke up with that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you didn’t like, instantly feeling sick with nerves for no explanation. You tried to start your morning as best and to routine as you could to try and push out the thoughts but nothing worked.

You made your way into the kitchen to grab some ice out of the freezer for your drink, you found yourself gazing out of the window being transfixed on cars going by. You flinched as you felt a squeeze on your sides, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay’s mischievous smile grinning back at you, a sight that would always put your mind to rest but on this day it wasn’t doing the trick.

He softly pulled on the round neck of your tshirt, exposing your shoulder to which he placed a light kiss to your skin “Everything alright?” he questioned, still stood behind you as you filled your glass. You nodded in response but you both knew this wasn’t enough for him, you span to exit the kitchen but he stood his ground to block your path.

“You wanna trying lying to me again?” he probed, gently outlining the side of you face with his fingers. You pressed your lips into his cheek but he still wouldn’t budge “Jay, I’m fine” you attempted to reassure but he simply gave a light chuckle in response.

“Baby, you know I call out people who lie for a job. Right?” You lean your head forward onto his chest and huff “Just one of those days” you mumble into his shirt and he tuts “And you couldn’t tell me that because?”.

You look up at him and roll your eyes “Because doofus, now you’ll be watching my every move when you need to be focusing on yourself” You push your finger into his chest as you speak, he flicks his eyes down onto your hand and then back up to your worried expression “We’ll be fine. Always are, I know how to look out for both of us” he leans in to place a chaste kiss to your lips but you still feel that sinking feeling wasn’t going anywhere fast.

“How do you always know what to do to make me feel better?” you tease, trying your best to ignore the wave of anxiousness overwhelming your body “It’s just as much of my job as it is to be a detective” he proudly replies and you can’t stop the smile creeping on your face “Smooth” you compliment, earning another toothy grin from your boyfriend

“Come on you, the quicker we get out of here the quicker we get home”. He slings an arm round your shoulder before stopping to pick up the drink you had previously poured yourself as he calmly reassures “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s gonna be fine”

***

As normal, Jay drops you off in his truck a few roads away from the district. You’d both decided it was best to keep your relationship between yourselves for the time being as god knows word spreads fast within Chicago and Voight would be less than impressed to say the least.

Seeing how he reacted to Kim and Adam served as a warning of how harsh he can be and implement punishments for the smallest of things. He often eyes the pair of you so you have an inclining he’s caught on but as far as you’re aware you’d gotten away with it so far which seemed a miracle. There’d been a few close encounters, you and Jay getting carried away in the evidence room, one acting out when the other is in danger or the most popular one being when either one of you is hit on and you can’t say a word.

Jay found this the hardest as Voight encouraged you to use your charm and sarcastic character on suspects, often helping to break their barriers and admit things they didn’t know they were admitting. This came at a cost, you openly flirting with another man in the interview room was now a regular occurrence and to Jay’s dismay he was often sat right by your side as you did so.

Most of the time you had fun with this as it never took much to get Jay jealous, a simple double take at you had him aggravated within seconds so for you to have taken on the role as ‘Intelligence flirt’ did not sit well with him. You’d considered having words with Voight about it, expressing how it made you uncomfortable but as much as sometimes you didn’t like it, it did often lead to success so you had to put your dignity to one side and do the job at hand.

It was another one of those days where you were called into the interview room as soon as you walked up the stairs, Jay handing you a paper file as he passes your desk. Just like every morning, acting like you hadn’t been in bed together just a few hours earlier or traipsing round his apartment in nothing but his T-shirt.

“He’s just your type” Kim calls out to you, smirk beaming from her face “and how do you know what my type is?” you sarcastically respond, eyebrow cocked in confidence “Believe me, I know what your type is” she is quick to reply, already back focusing on a pile of paperwork sat in front of her. You narrow your eyes at her and then cast your eyes over to Jay who is still enthralled by the thought of you.

“Will you just get in there and do you thing. We need to nail this bastard” Voight’s rough voice echos out, hurrying you to hang your coat up on the way to the interview room “Good luck” Jay announces with an amused tone “I think you’re the one who needs the luck” you hit back. He bores his eyes down to you as he leans forward to open the door with one hand and allowing you to enter the room first.

The suspect immediately slumps back in his chair as you slam the thick paper file onto the desk “Think you better sit up and pay attention sunshine, I haven’t got all day” you jest, Jay remaining stern in the seat next to you as he’s ready to play good cop bad cop. “Oh I can tell I’m gonna like you already” his eyes roam about your body but Jay is quick to harshly click in front of the mans face to distract him “Eyes up here big man”.

You conceal your laugher, not even 2 seconds in and Jay’s pissed off “Why don’t you let her do the talking pretty boy” the suspect flirts and you scoff “You’re already looking at 25 years in jail if you don’t start talking so we’ll get started if you don’t mind” you open the file in efforts to break eye contact with the suspect but Jay was still showing a disgruntled stare over the table “I’m all yours”.

***

Safe to say the interview didn’t get much better, no matter how much you leaned into him, he wasn’t saying a word. Forcing you to try and go above and beyond with the flirting technique but still nothing. You marched back into the office with Jay, him stuck at your side but staying silent when usually there would be some form of sarcastic comment but today there was nothing.

“How could you say he was my type, are you blind? He was about 50 with half a mouth of teeth and I can’t imagine the last time he showered” you call out to Kim who laughs “My idea of fun” she contests, handing you a cup of coffee “Hilarious” you comment under your breath as she returns to her desk next to you.

You were still reeling from the interview, annoyed at yourself for not getting him to break so you could charge him with more but by the sounds of it, it wasn’t his first offence so knew how to play the game and also play you. You scanned the pages in front of you, head in your hands as you sat propped with your elbows on the desk “He was just a dick who knows how to work the system, don’t let it get to you” Jay speaks as he leans on the desk next to you.

You huff and sink into your chair “Surprised you’re talking to me” you joke as Jay shrugs “Gotta do what you gotta do” he calmly admits, complete change of attitude to his normal tense and quiet self after these interviews but you still knew him well enough to know he was bluffing “Now who’s the one lying” you raise your eyebrows at him with a slight smirk across your face.

He leans down to you to speak but you hear Trudy clear her throat from behind him “Y/N, you got someone down here for you” she bitterly announces, you both turn to look at her as she spins to head back down the stairs “Did they give a name, or?” you ask after her but as per usual she was hardly in a mood to converse “Do I look like a receptionist? No” she tuts “Was cute though” you’re taken back as she adds her little comment and disappears back down the stairs.

“Well, best get myself down to this hottie then” you stand from your seat, ensuring you graze yourself along Jay as you pass “Don’t wanna keep him waiting” you quietly add so only he can hear.

He keeps his arms folded in front of his chest and watches you intently as you walk off, feeling his eyes burn into your back as you follow Trudy’s path down to the main area. Slight grin as you enjoyed winding Jay up and as much as he didn’t want to admit it he also got a kick out of it.

Him watching you think you have the dominance in the relationship truly amused him, all while knowing he could have you pinned up against a wall and struggling to find words within seconds frequently crossed his mind as he sat watching you work opposite him.

You got to the bottom of the stairs only to be met by an empty room, you look over to Trudy who is aimlessly scrolling on the computer and walk over to her desk “Where is he then?” you ask but get no response, instead she simply looks over your shoulder to the room next to the main doors.

She glimpses back over to you before returning to her work “Always so helpful Trudy, what would I do without you” you mock, tapping the desk before turning to see who had asked after you.

You didn’t even have a chance to get yourself together before he was stood in front of you, your best friend from college who you hadn’t seen in years was stood before you and Trudy was right, he was looking just as cute as he did the last time you see him all those years ago. “There she is! The hot shot detective” he exclaims before engulfing you in his arms.

It took you by surprise so took you a few seconds before you could grasp what was happening “Kyle? What are you doing here?” you pull back, leaving his arm still resting on your hip as he towered over you “My folks moved to Chicago a few weeks ago so thought I would come visit. Then remembered you worked here so made it all the more easier for me to take the trip” he happily admits as you nudge his shoulder “Still the flirt I see” you tilt you head and he nods “Can’t help it when it comes to you”.

You come to your senses that you’re still stood in the middle of the open space at the district, Trudy without a doubt ogling at you from her desk and silently judging with her scowl and condescending manner.

You take a quick sweep of the area to see if anyone else is around but it was just the two of you which made the silence even more awkward. As much as you wanted nothing more than to catch up with Kyle, this was hardly the ideal scenario as you could basically hear a pin drop and knew Trudy was listening in on every word.

You check your watch and note it was nearly 1pm which led you to the perfect excuse of leaving “Wanna grab some lunch?” he questions to which you quickly agree “Let me just grab my stuff and we can go”.

Just as you turn to head back upstairs you hear Trudy call out from behind you “Chuckles, get Y/N’s bags for her will you. She's being whisked off for lunch on a hot date” whilst still facing away you subtly shake your head and huff “I’m gonna kill her” you joke, Kyle awkwardly laughs along with you which doesn’t help with the glare Jay was sending in your direction.

“Thanks but I can get them myself, thanks though” you grimace to Trudy as you pass her desk “Won’t be long” you call back to Kyle who takes a seat on the chairs “Just text me if you need a moment before we go!” Jay shoots him a lingering glare, you nudge his shoulder to pull him from his trance with the aggravated scorn to Kyle.

You place your hand onto the scanner and feel Jay breathing down your neck from how close he is stood behind you “So you’ve got a hot date?” he whispers, so quiet that you’re sure no one else heard “Don’t start” you warn as the door buzzes and loosens to allow you to open it.

“Don’t know what you mean” Jay innocently responds, still hot on your trail as you make your way up “Jay, your jealousy is showing” you tease with a hint of smugness in your voice “I don’t get jealous baby” he takes you off guard with the pet name but you try your best to act unfazed “A lot of lying going on today, isn’t there?”.

You make your way over to your desk and rummage around in the drawers looking for the purse your usually leave in there with a few bank cards and loose change. “Who’s the hunk then Y/N?” Hailey asks from her desk on the other side of the room “It’s her boyfriend” Jay answers before you even have a chance to respond. You continue looking through your desk, rolling your eyes at his comment but grateful no one can see as you look down.

“He’s a friend from college” you correct him, shooting him a glare to which he sneers. “And he’s taking you to lunch? Lucky you” Kim adds, earning a less than impressed glance from Adam “I’m right here you know” he mocks and you laugh to yourself of the irony of Adam getting jealous when you knew Jay was sat there reeling and no one knew.

“Wait, isn’t Kyle the one who-?” Kim starts but you widen your eyes her to give her the message to stop “The one who?” Kevin probes, aware that now everyone was in on this would only add to Jay’s annoyance “He wa-” Hailey speaks up “Uh” you interrupt, admiring the joy she had flashed across her face. Adam pats Kevin on the shoulder as he passes “Girl code bro, we’ll never find out”.

“I didn’t know I was running a gossip circle? Back to it” Voight demands from the doorframe of his office. The team turn back to their work as you give up looking for your purse and decide to head to the lockers to see if you left it in there earlier in the week.

Once in the hall, alone you run your fingertips over the creases in your forehead. Partly in trying to remember where you last had your purse but also wishing Kyle hadn’t come to the district or atleast gave you some forewarning that we was in town.

That soon explains the reason for your gut feeling this morning that something wasn’t going to go right, although you were slightly relieved as it wasn’t half as bad as you expected when you first woke up and felt the anxiety swirling in your stomach but still wasn’t ideal.

You leant your head against your locker before taking a deep breath, anyone would think you were being overdramatic but with the interview the morning where you had truly pushed yourself with the flirting already leaving Jay on the back foot this was not what you had in mind for the rest of the day.

Normally, a quiet afternoon with the odd doting look and occasional private moment between the pair of you had you back in his good books but that was clearly out of the window and now with this he was just feeling worse.

You searched in your locker but still no sign, you pulled out your phone to text Kyle and was shocked you still had his number after all these years. You clicked away on your phone before a presence in front of you makes you flinch.

You look up to see Jay leaning with one arm on the locker and the other holding your purse “You can text your boyfriend to say your other boyfriend found your purse” he dangles the purse in front of you but snatches it back when you go to grab it “Jay, leave it alone” you taunt but he simply drops your purse on the bench behind you with a swift motion and turns to head out.

Slightly shocked you don’t get more of a reaction out of him leaves you wanting more, a twisted affect he had on you when he left you craving him if he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“You don’t want me to introduce the pair of you then?” you call out, causing him to stop in his tracks on route to the door. You heart instantly picks up as you know you’ve got him “Do what you want” he spits out, still with his back to you. You make your way over to him and run your fingertip up and down his spine, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“Someone in a mood?” you innocently ask, knowing full well what you’re letting yourself in for but using it as more motivation to keep going. He hangs his head in laughter and takes a moment before he inhales through his flared nostrils, even facing away from you you can see the bitter look on his face as he bites the inside of his lip in frustration.

“Why don’t you just go and have a nice little lunch with your boyfriend and we’ll speak about this at home later” his calmness still confuses you and didn’t satisfy your craving and as much as you knew you shouldn’t provoke him you can’t help but continue to do so.

“You don’t Atleast want to know who he is? You could be letting me go to lunch with a murderer for all you know” you joke but he is not amused, not in the slightest. He deeply huffs which, to his frustration you know is a good sign you were getting what you wanted “No Y/N. I don’t want to know who the fuck he is” he finally bursts, turning in his spot and now staring down on you.

“I don’t give a shit who he is, I don’t give a shit what you’ve done together” the way his chest rises and falls in his passion truly awakes something within you and you no longer care how quick you feel overpowered by him.

“That’s not very kind” you respond, innocent tone paired with your eyelashes fluttering as you look up at Jay’s rage filled face.

“Kind? I don’t care about kind when it comes to other men flirting with my girl, baby” he starts taking steps towards you, forcing you to walk back under his demand.

Your back soon hits the bank of lockers with a thud, his eyes filled his hunger as he rests his arm to the side of your head and leans into you “He was only my first fuck, no big deal” you mumble but his spiteful chuckle tells you he heard it loud and clear, slightly regretting your honesty when you’re truly under his thumb and not getting out of his hold anytime soon.

“Say that again” he taunts, hand gripped onto your waist and getting tighter with each heavy breath. You don’t say a word as you know nothing will help what you’ve just said, he leaves it a moment before he continues.

“No?” He questions as you remain standing in silence, you shake your head to see the exasperation flashing across his face. “Why did you even tell me that?” He further asks and in all honesty you begin to question that yourself, you just knew it would be the worst thing you could admit and therefore it had to be done.

“Oh, I know why” he drops his head as he smiles to himself, hand running along his jawline as a smug smile makes its way onto his face. Not a second later his attention is back on you with the hunger in his eyes that you now desperately longed for.

“You want me to remind the name that I know you’re wishing you could moan right now” he teases as he pushes himself onto you further “straight up against these lockers, with my hand over your mouth to quieten them desperate pleas”. His eyes search your face for any form of resistance as he darts his knee inbetween your legs to separate them “Tell me I’m wrong baby?”.

You feel your body melt under his slightest touch, his words making you crumble into his grasp on you. With your mind no longer on Kyle or the fact you were at your place of work with the chance of getting caught at any moment “Your team just on the other side of that wall not having a single clue what’s going on”. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, his lips finding their way to your collarbone and lightly nipping at the skin.

“My girl wants me to fuck her so hard that she can’t even walk out of this room without me helping her” he proceeds to run his lips along your jawline, leaving lingering kisses as he goes “Not so mouthy now, hm?” He grasps at your hip to straighten you from your slumped position, feeling your legs turn to jelly as you yearn for his dominant touch “Use your words, baby”.

He catches you off guard with a deep and hungry kiss as his lips crash into yours, using his hand on the small of your back to steady you as you stumble from the sudden harshness. As you leaned into his desires, you wanted to use the tiniest bit of power you have left to well and truly push him over the edge. Something you knew that would have you playing this moment over in your head for weeks on end, him falling at your mercy and pushing him over the edge “Yes daddy”.

His eyes widen, something he had only heard you say a few times in the past but only after being encouraged at the height of passion and never on your own accord. The fingers digging into your hips told you all you needed to know, whether he liked to admit it, you’d won this hands down.

You run your to tongue over your bottom lip, now slightly swollen from the rough contact. His eyes follow your movement, the darkness in his eyes turning more intense as every second went by “oh baby” he chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to lift you up and secure yourself to him with your legs wrapped round him and your back pushed up against the lockers “you have no idea what you’ve just let yourself in for”.

****

Inbox and requests always open👀 am working through my current requests and one will be up in a few days💃🏼

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead drabble #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead smut #one chicago x reader #jay halstead x you

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skinnyducky · 3 years ago

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excuse me, i love you // v.h.

requested by @thatmultifandomlovingmf

a/n i hope this lives up to your expectation ! i had an idea prior to writing this and i thought it would be nice to sort of mingle the two ! sorry, if this wasn’t what you wanted ! and also same, i still don’t know my ff terms that well either :D

Word Count: 1535, edited

WARNING: fluff, language, fluff.. and more fluff.

---------

Vinnie and you were chilling in his room, lying on his bed. Well, at least he was chilling. You were cuddled into his side and fast asleep—college will do that to you. He took this chance to admire you. He truly loved everything about you, and it made him think: how was he so fortunate to have someone like you? Sure, you’d been best friends for a long time, but that didn’t mean anything—at least to him it didn’t. This thought danced around in his mind, and he recalled back to the event that started your relationship…

Two years ago…

It was a Friday night and Vinnie was sitting in his room, scrolling through Instagram and liking whatever random photos popped up on his feed. This wasn’t how he typically spent his Friday nights. Normally he’d be with his best friend, you. However, due to a series of unfortunate events—aka Jackson Dougland asking you out on a date—he was left to his own devices.

As he sat at the edge of his bed, he wandered why him? What made Jackson Dougland so great that you actually entertained going on a date with him? He was just your average dimwit who cared more about his sport achievements than anything else. You deserved better than someone who was just going to use you as a trophy; you deserved Vinnie—or at least that’s what he thought.

Vinnie was unsure of when and why he started to develop a crush on you. Maybe it was because you’re the only girl who really understood him, maybe it was because you’ve been best friends for years, or it could be from the fact that you appeared in every one of his dreams—and that includes the nightmares with Elmo. There was just something about you that made his love for you shift from platonic to romantic, and he had no clue why. He couldn’t tell you that though. For one, it’d be embarrassing if you rejected him. And two, he couldn’t bare to risk your friendship. So, he thought it’d be better to conceal his feelings than to let them pour out.

As he mindlessly stared at his phone, he heard a slight tap at the window. He fell into confusion as he looked over to see nothing there. Shrugging it off, he went back to looking at the small screen in his hands, but once again, there was a tap at the window.

“What the hell?” Vinnie muttered to himself, getting up and going to check out the ruckus. He opened the window and stuck his head out, finding no sign of where the tapping could’ve come from. That was until he was hit in the face with a pebble.

“OUCH, dammit!” He shouted as he rubbed his throbbing cheek. He looked down to see who the culprit was, only to find you standing there. “Y/n? What the hell?”

“Sorry,” you sighed. Vinnie noticed something different about your demeanor. Normally you were happy and cheery, but right now you were the complete opposite, from the slight frown on your face to your hunched stature.

“Can I come in?”

Vinnie nodded and rushed downstairs to open the door for you. Letting you in, he led the two of you back upstairs and into his room. Once you were inside, he shut the door and watched as you plopped down face-first on his bed.

“What’re you doing here?” Vinnie asked, leaning against the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date with Dougland?”

You let out a groan and sat up, looking your best friend in the eye. “I was, but then I found out he had other motives.”

“What do you mean by ‘other motives’?”

“He didn’t really wanna go out with me. He was just using me for sex.” You said, fiddling with your thumbs. “I was just another notch on his belt; another girl he could brag about getting with to his buddies.”

Vinnie frowned as he sat next to you. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?”

“Completely nothing.”

“I thought he was so sweet. He went on and on about how we were gonna go to homecoming together, and that he wanted to spend the rest of high school with me. But come to find out, it was nothing but lies.”

“I know, I know.” Vinnie sighed. He hated seeing you down, especially in this instance. You deserved nothing but complete happiness, and the fact that someone came along and ruined that for you, it pained him. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Maybe I do,” You replied, your voice breaking. “Maybe this was a sign that love isn’t for me.”

Vinnie shook his head as he looked at you. “Now, Y/n.”

You groaned, “It’s the truth. Think about it, no guy has ever shown interest in me before, and if they have, they’re either like Jackson or they’re in middle school.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“No, it’s not. I’m just gonna have to face the facts: I’m meant to be alone.”

“Y/n-“

“I should’ve known better.”

“Y/n-“

“Nobody would ever want me.”

Vinnie growled, getting up from beside you. “There are people who want you, Y/n! You’re just too blind to see it!”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, and who might that be? And if you say one of your baseball boys, I swear to god-“

“Me, Y/n…it’s me.”

You finally stopped your yapping and sat there in shock. Vinnie felt at peace, glad that he was able to get you to calm down. However, that peace was disrupted once he soon realized what he had said. “Oh, shit.” He mumbled to himself, although it was loud enough for you to hear.

“What’d you just say?”

“Oh shit.” He repeated, though he knew what you were referring to.

“Not that, idiot, what you said before that.”

He sighed, sitting back down. “Fine. I said that I want you. And before you go off the rails, I truly meant what I said. I don’t know when I started having feelings for you, but I do know that they’re strong. I get that we’ve been best friends for a while and it’s weird, but I just can’t help the way I feel for you.”

“Vinnie, I-“

“I completely understand if you don’t feel the same, I don’t expect you to.”

“Vin-“

“Just promise me that we can still be friends. I don’t know what I’d do without-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you smashed your lips against his. He was taken aback; so many thoughts were roaming around in his head which was nearly on the verge of combusting. When you pulled back, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a good minute.

“Wow.” He breathed, causing you to laugh. “I was not expecting that.”

“I could tell.” You grinned. “Do you really mean all of that…all of what you said?”

He nodded. “Of course, I do, Y/n. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. I care about you, and it sucks to hear you go on and on about not finding someone when I’m right here, someone who wants to be with you for you and not for your body or anything. I love you, like so fucking much.”

A smile crept onto your face as your hands found their way to the back of Vinnie’s neck. “You are absolutely too pure for this world, Vin.”

The boy laughed keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “I honestly don’t know what to say. No one has ever said something that sweet and meaningful to me. Maybe it’s because you’re my best friend but hearing it from you feels ten times better.” You smiled. “You mean a lot to me, Vinnie. The fact that I mean that much to you, it’s sweet.”

“This feels like a friendzone speech.” Vinnie said as his shoulders fell.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was planning on friendzoning you.” You chuckled, stroking his head. “I really wanna try this out.”

“You mean like…you for real wanna go out? This isn’t for play-play?”

“Yeah. I feel like we’ve always been a couple. It just took some maturing, a moment of weakness, and one of us to say something for us to figure it out. And now, since we’ve figured it out…I think we should try and see where it goes.”

Vinnie gulped, “But what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t wanna lose you, Y/n.”

“And you won’t.” You reassured. “We’ve been in each other’s lives far to long to just walk out. I have no intention of leaving anytime soon.”

“If that’s the case, then I guess all that’s left to ask is…Y/n, do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes, Vinnie. I would love to go out with you.”

Flashback over…

As the scene left Vinnie’s head, he couldn’t help but grin. Two years ago, he would’ve never thought being with you would be possible. But here he was together with you. He had all he could ask for.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine

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godlygreta · 3 years ago

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i never stopped loving you | j. kiszka

title | i never stopped loving you

summary | jake and y/n have known each other since grade school, they’ve been neighbors forever. a bit of romance ensues, but ends fairly quickly when complications arise while the boys are touring. a trip home from college ends in a slightly drunk confession.

warnings | some mature themes (bit of sex, but not explicitly), swearing, slight angst

word count | 2.5k+

author’s note | hi! this is the first thing i’ve written for any of the boys, so i hope you enjoy. i’ve written for other bands before, so writing isn’t new to me, but writing for greta is.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

High school was rough for Y/N with hormones mixed in with academics, horny teenage boys at every turn. Y/N wasn’t even interested in dating, not due to the fact that nobody was necessarily interested in her, but because she was too focused on her studies to even give a damn. School dances were a nice break from academics. There was a shift, though, when one boy in particular would start to really pay attention to her.

Jake Kiszka was charismatic in every sense of the word. Him and his twin brother, Josh, were always the two sweetest, yet most famous troublemakers in all of Frankenmuth High School. It got even worse when their younger brother, Sam, ended up in high school with them as a freshman. Jake had girls wrapped around his finger from the moment he had gotten a haircut. His hair was a lot shorter than before and barely even touched his forehead. Y/N didn’t really give a damn. To her, he was still Jake Kiszka, neighbor.

Their parents were friends and always hungout on the weekends. Y/N’s family had a cabin on the lake which they always vacationed at and occasionally would bring Jake’s family with. One particular summer, they stayed there for a week between the summer of sophomore and junior year. The summer’s were always hot, but this week in particular was hotter than the other summer’s before. “It feels like the Devil’s asshole out here.”

“I know, Mary, but that’s the exact reason we chose to come here this week. The kids can swim in the lake, it’s a lot cooler in the water than on the grass.” Y/N’s dad spoke, returning the conversation from her mother. He gave her a quick kiss on the side of the head and returned to unpacking the car. Y/N and the boys had already gone into the house and picked their rooms. The boys shared one, and Y/N got one of the spare bedrooms.

Dinner was made as soon as everyone was settled in. Everyone sat around the dining table, laughing and eating as they did almost every weekend. “You excited for Junior year, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m sort of nervous about taking the SAT and ACT. I’ve been studying when I’m not working at the shop.” She picked at some asparagus on her plate as she answered Mrs. Kiszka’s question. Jake and Josh weren’t entirely ecstatic about it, it didn’t really matter to either of them. Music was their passion and that was never going to change.

Smores after dinner was a tradition that started when they were all really little, barely old enough to eat them. The fire was lit by Mr. Kiszka and Mr. Y/L/N. Jake, Sam and Josh had always played music while the rest of them made their smores. Y/N always made extras for the boys for when they were done playing music. Whenever they had no idea what to play, Y/N always knew the answer. Running out of songs to play, though, was a rarity in itself. The Kiszka’s knew so much about their sound, nothing was in their way of playing songs that fit it. However, every once in a blue moon they would ask their friend what she would like to hear. “C’mon now. You should know I’m a sucker for The Beatles.”

Y/N could recognize the sound of Blackbird the second it started playing. She had only listened to it eight million times that summer. She hummed lightly along as they played. Everyone clapped as soon as their song was over, the boys immediately delving into their smores. Y/N had finally taken a seat next to Josh when she was finished making their smores for them. Once their parents had gone inside, though, Y/N and the twins dipped into their parents' cooler of beer.

Neither of the sets of parents cared, they knew their kids would be safe and unharmed if they drank at the cabin. Jokes were told and stories of the past school year were discussed, as well as the future. A topic so vast for high schoolers. “I still can’t decide between a lawyer and an art teacher.”

“You’ve always been great at arguing,” Josh joked, “Practically got fuckin’ Lindsey McNeil out of that suspension.”

“It wasn’t fair. All she did was stand up for herself and what she believed in, plus that teacher is fucking creepy and everyone knows it.” Everybody laughed, the beer in everyone’s hands was getting a little warmer with every minute that passed by. Everyone filtered out one by one. Sam went in first, followed by Ronnie (she was slightly upset about coming, having made other plans with friends for the hot weather), and then Josh followed, leaving behind Jake and Y/N.

“Did you want to go inside yet or stay out here for a bit longer?” The silence beforehand hadn’t been awkward for the pair. “Cause I was thinking of going swimming for a bit.”

“I’ll join you, we haven’t swam yet today.”

The sand leading into the lake was met with a bit of rocks. It was picturesque under the moonlight. The pair discarded their clothing, leaving their underwear and got into the water. The coolness of the water sent goosebumps along her skin, leaving no piece without some. Jake followed in behind her, coming up next to her before completely dipping under the water. He popped back up and shook his head.

“You know,” Y/N started, “I think you’d look really good with longer hair.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. You should grow it out.” She swiped his hair out of the way and giggled a bit. “You’ll still never be prettier than I am.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

The rest of the summer followed with light flirting and spending lots of time together. Junior year came around and nothing changed a bit. Prom was spent with the Kiszka family, Josh driving the three of you, as well as Josh’s date. The dance was lame, the songs were overplayed pop music, which Y/N secretly had a bit of a soft spot for. She would never tell that to Jake, though.

The pair ended up back at Y/N’s house, giggling all the way up to her room. He went into the bathroom to take his suit off, using one of Y/N’s hangers to make sure it wouldn’t wrinkle. However, Y/N was still having issues. She couldn’t manage to undo the zipper by herself, waiting for Jake to come back into the room to do it for her. He came back in, saw her still in her dress. “Need my help?”

“My zipper -- I can’t reach it.”

“I can do it,” he whispered, knowing Y/N’s parents were asleep. His hands were warm against her back, undoing her zipper slowly. The moonlight coming in from the window felt like that hot summer night at the cabin. He slid the straps down her shoulders, his mouth slightly agape. How could someone look so beautiful and delicate at the same time?

She turned around, her body facing Jake’s. He stuttered, telling her he could leave and he was honestly about to. Until he felt her hand grab his wrist. “Don’t go.”

He nodded his head, helping her get the rest of the way out of her dress. She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating. She had a hard time meeting his gaze, nervous of him not feeling the same way she had been. “You looked really good tonight.”

“Me? Everybody was staring at you the whole time, Y/N,” he spoke, one hand finding their way to her waist, the other pulling on her chin to force eye contact. “You looked absolutely breathtaking.”

There was a split second where both of them second guessed themselves. But it was over when Y/N pressed her lips lightly against Jake’s. It was such a feathery light touch, it almost felt like she wasn’t even kissing him. She pulled away slowly, her eyes closed, not really knowing what to do next. She didn’t have to figure it out though, Jake’s lips returned to hers with more pressure.

His hands had found their rightful place on her back, bringing her closer to him. Hers found their way into his hair. It felt so natural - the need for each other grew stronger with each passing minute. His mouth never wanted to leave hers, it felt as though her lips were coated in fucking drugs the way they were so addicting. He couldn’t get enough. “Do you want to..?”

“Yes, please.” It came out so needy - desperate. Y/N didn’t even care about how that presented itself to Jake. She just wanted to be even closer to him than she already was. And she got to be right where she wanted to be.

Her bed was more comfy than Jake had previously remembered. Or maybe that was because they were here under different circumstances, not just studying algebra because Jake wasn’t quite getting it. All he knew was that he wasn’t ever going to forget it. He wanted this moment to replay forever and ever. Not because he was just some horny teenager, but because holy fuck, this had just been some random thought - a daydream, almost. But this was real. This was happening.

A tangled mess they were when climaxing. “I love you,” came out as barely above a whisper. It took Y/N a half of a second to register what he was really saying before it finally hit her. She didn’t feel as if she had to say it back, if anything, he should realize that she loved him too.

“I could honestly stay here forever and stare at you until the end of time.”

“So do it. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

They didn’t though. And it wasn’t that simple. Complications arose after that night. Everything got messy and trying to tie in a relationship while the band was traveling and on the road became increasingly difficult, especially when Y/N went to college.

She came home to Frankenmuth while she was off for the summer. Her mother and father missed her a great deal and the first weekend home was spent in the Kiszka’s backyard, the boys excluded. It was weird to be at their house and not see them littered around anywhere. Ronnie was full of stories though, telling Y/N about previous times the boys have come home from touring and the memories they brought back with him.

It was painful to hear, but she was so incredibly proud of everything they had accomplished and done. Every once in a while, Y/N had checked up on their band's Instagram account. When she was really nervous — having a hard time not worrying about them — she texted Josh or Danny. Neither of them were ever going to say anything to Jake or mention it to Sam.

The two families decided to get together and have dinner at a local bar. The boys were still away, they weren’t scheduled to come back to Michigan for at least another month and a half. Ronnie and Y/N spent most of their time talking about future plans for the upcoming weeks while their parents discuss their weekend plans — what to have for dinner and who’s house to have dinner at. Time had passed quickly and before they knew it, it was 10pm.

The parents had left, leaving Ronnie and Y/N at the bar by themselves. At least, that was until the boys walked in.

Ronnie smiled widely, hugging her brothers but then proceeding to punch them for surprising her and not just telling her. Josh and Danny hugged Y/N first, Sam leading after. Jake didn’t hug Y/N. It stung a bit. It made sense though. The last time they talked — it ended in an argument which was the resulting cause of their breakup.

A few drinks were downed, a couple shots thrown in there as well. Y/N figured it was time to throw the towel in. She couldn’t handle the awkward glances and forced conversation on their part. She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and put it on as she said goodbye to everyone. “Boys, lovely to see you again. I’m sure I’ll see you this weekend.”

She wasn’t going to. She was gonna avoid them at all costs. Come up with a lie — say she had the flu or something. Her mother would believe her either way, as well as understand where she was coming from with her avoidance. Her mother was there for her while she cried her eyes out.

She didn’t notice when Jake had followed her out. She didn’t notice him calling her name. The only thing she could notice was the tears falling down her cheeks, wiping them as soon as she felt them.

“I never stopped loving you.”

“When we broke up,” he started. “I was a wreck. I was immature. It could’ve worked out - it would’ve worked out if I wasn’t such a child about everything.”

“Jake —“

“No, Y/N, I need to say this now. I’m a little drunk so I actually have the balls to say everything I want to. It was stupid to break up over something as menial as distance. The things I feel for you are so intense it scares the fuck out of me. I was so afraid of being gone all the time. You deserved someone who could be there to help you study for midterms. I was always in another state and sometimes another country. I wasn’t… there to be able to help you through anything. Everything’s different now, though.”

She sighed, not entirely sure on what to do with the information that was thrown at her. She was sober enough to remember the conversation tomorrow, but not nearly drunk enough to be able to deal with it tonight. “Do you wanna just come home with me? Talk about this tomorrow morning when we’re both sober.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction #godlygreta writes jake #jake #kiszka #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fic

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bmbochangetales · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write something with piercings and dumbification 😋 what would I get at the cafe for that?

Your boss was breathing down your neck. The deadline was still a week away. You were ahead of schedule, but it still wasn't good enough. Worse still, he just sent you on the coffee run. You were not an intern or an assistant.

You had to get back for a meeting in 20 minutes and the normal coffee shops were too busy. You were ready to tell your boss to get his own coffee and shove it up his....

Doll's Cafe

And there was a spot right in front, this would have to do. You needed 20 coffees and hopefully this place was fast. You throw your car into park and rush in not even taking the keys out of the ignition.

A buff looking man is at the register and he was staring and drooling. You start rattling off the office order in too much of a rush to see him watching a gif of his boss bouncing her tiddies on repeat as it had been for the last hour.

"3 iced coffees black, 2 with whole milk, 1 with skim, 1 with coconut milk, 2 with soy and 1 with almond milk. 3 hot black, 2 with cream and sugar" You pause to take a breath.

Cock scratches his head and tries rubbing his dick to help him think. "Umm 2 black coffees..." You let out a cry of frustration.

"Cock! Go take your break, we need more heavy cream! I got this" Doll swept in from the back and to the register. Your eyes are met with the biggest tits you have ever seen. You swear her phone must be going crazy in her pocket with the buzzing sound coming from her.

""3 iced coffees black, 2 with milk, 1 with skim, 1 with coconut milk, 2 with soy and 1 with almond milk. 3 hot black, 2 with cream and sugar" she repeated back to you. You started to relax.

"Two Americanos, Two lattes and one quad shot soy latte extra extra hot with 1 pump hazelnut syrup, 1 pump cinnamon, no foam, light whip with a salted caramel drizzle" you hated ordering your boss's drink. Especially because he got pissed when it was wrong even though you just order it, not make it.

You quickly scanned the menu for your drink. Might as well treat yourself on the company dollar. "A bubbly real teal boba tea with pabo powder and piercing pearls" you don't even know really what you ordered it just came out.

"Perfect! we just imported that powder from Korea. You'll love it cutie" She stepped away and was popping drinks out one after another.

You eyes has been skimming the case and in a matter of minutes, Doll had most of the drinks ready. Cock came is with a small pitcher of the cream he was sent to fetch. Doll quickly whipped it up for your boss's complicated latte. she placed then in carriers and bags and you were on your way to the car.

"Doll what's pabo powder? asked Cock scratching his head, really confused about the new menu item.

"It's korean for stupid powder. She gonna be a cute little dummie!"

Cock giggles.

"I think the office is going to get a whole new vibe Cock" doll said with a happy smile.

In the car, you begin sipping you drink as you race back for the meeting. You pulled in to the parking garage in the exit lane. Whoops! At least, no one was going in or out and the guard was on his lunch. You take another huge gulp, as the pearls and sweet concoction go down your throat, you feel almost like your drunk. You let out a giggle as an alarm goes off so you know you have 10 minutes to get back up to your desk. You grab the bags of coffee and rush towards the elevator.

You stare at the buttons when you get there. Mmmmm which one. the up pointy or down pointy. What if you push both? As you struggle, a co-worker comes and presses the arrow "Can I get my coffee?" She doesn't wait for an answer and shuffles through. She finds her and begins sucking it down as you go in the elevator. you stare looking for onety-one. You see it but the wrong 1 is first. Still your co-worker presses 11. Oh, it must be the same.

"Ya know, I super like your earrings! A whole ear is just super sexy! and like your nose!" suddenly the girl from accounting sounds like a valley girl. you look at her. She is decked head to toe in neon colored latex. She swizzles the last few sips as you hit your floor.

You catch your reflection in the mirror. Earrings dangle out of your ears and a rings hangs from your nose with a hoop on the side. When did that happen! You were so dumb!

As soon as you think the word, you felt a wave of pleasure. You nearly drop the coffee but make it to the counter and put it all down. Your lips grow plush and overfilled, perfect to show off the lip ring. The tongue ring in your mouth matches perfectly. You just want to hang your tongue out and show it off. Your hair becomes a striking teal color. Meanwhile your head is getting fuzzier.

Coworkers are picking up their drinks and nobody seems to take notice of your transformation. You can’t seem to process as the office switches from sales to phone sex. The drinks affecting everyone in record time.

Your old office partner is now the resident domme dressed in black answering a disobedient boy who she will punish. The quiet old lady who was ready to retire is now an energetic plastic enhanced MILF in her 40s teasing a college age boys. Brad has grown massive tits becoming the best hooker the company has seen. The HR team was going around give oral to each worker making sure they felt amazing and gave the best service.

You work here? You couldn’t even think now. Your head just becoming a fluffy mess.

“Where’s my coffee? Your boss bellowed. You final coherent thought was to carry it into his office. You struggled to push the door for a minute before an HR cock sucker moved you away from the window in front of the door. You had to really focus to even remember how to walk. As you struggled, your business button down became a sheer white tank top perfect for showing off your pierced EE tits. Your boss hardly acknowledged you as he swiped the cup which magically hadn’t spilled even though you were holding upside down. The hard work had caused you to drool, with it running down.

“This isn’t right your so dumb….” He trailed off but it was too late for you. Final thoughts left your head and orgasms took over your body from that beautiful word. Thinking was out of your league but also you boss now too. Cock’s cum seized him up as he grew into in overinflated himbo. A dog collar appeared as he chewed off his expensive suit. The office cock puppy wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

The best resident dumb slut an office could have was you. You unfortunately were too dumb to understand much of what happens around you but that’s okay. You were here just to be slutty and dumb.

#my writing #my story #bimboization #doll’s cafe #interactive

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marauders-venting · 3 years ago

Text

This Love

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff & angst

warnings: mentions of drowning, child abuse, physical abuse, death/murder, war, grief and guilt

words: 3679

note: based on the song ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift

a/n: this is a request I got from someone on Instagram :)

okay I know that sirius ran away from home at 16 and they’re not supposed to use magic outside of Hogwarts until their 17 but uhhh idk just pretend that sirius ran away at 17. or that they can do magic at 16, whatever you prefer

Clear blue water, high tide came and brought you in and I could go on and on, on and on, and I will. Skies grew darker, currents swept you out again and you were just gone and gone, gone and gone. In silent screams, in wildest dreams I never dreamed of this

“Hey,” Remus said, waving as he saw Sirius approaching. His nervous expression rearranged itself into a smile when he saw Remus.

“Remus!” Sirius said, rushing towards him and hugging him. The embrace is quick and short, Sirius pulling back as quickly as he came in, but it’s enough to make Remus’ heart pound ridiculously fast in his chest. “I’d ask you how your summer’s been but I guess I already know,” Sirius added with a laugh. Remus smiled. They had been exchanging letters back and forth all summer long. Not that they didn’t usually write to each other over breaks but Remus was pretty sure this summer they had broken the world record for most letters sent in a month.

Remus had planned on using this time away from Sirius to try and get over his crush but the second he saw Sirius walking around the beach he knew he had failed. If anything, being away from Sirius, missing him, had only made Remus’ feelings of longing more intense.

“Come on, let’s sit,” Remus said. He had already spread a towel out on the sand near the water before when he was waiting for Sirius and they sat on it now. “How’d you manage to get away in the end?”

“I just snuck out the window,” Sirius said, shrugging. “And then I took a taxi like you taught me and I used the muggle money you sent me. I will pay you back for that by the way.”

“Don’t bother,” Remus said. “Think of it as me paying you back for all the chocolate you bought me on the last Hogsmeade visit at the end of last year. Nobody knows you’re gone?”

“Nah, they’re not expecting me down for dinner anyway so it’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Remus asked nervously.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. Remus wasn’t convinced. “Hey, come on, don’t worry about them. We’re here now, let’s enjoy it.” Sirius flopped back on the towel, lying on his back, arms stretched up above his head, shirt riding up and revealing a strip of skin above the waistband of his pants that Remus was actively trying to avoid staring at. Sirius was right. They had discussed this all summer, planning exactly how they would make it work. He wouldn’t ruin it by worrying now that they were finally here.

“Yeah, okay,” Remus said, smiling. And lying down next to Sirius. He looked up at the sky. It was a brilliant orange now, the rays of the setting sun giving it the colour. “You feel like going for a swim?”

“Okay,” Sirius said, grinning. They raced into the ocean, spraying each other water so they were soaked before they even got in past their knees. Remus kept going deeper until only his head was above water.

“Come on, Moony, that’s not fair, I can’t stand here,” Sirius complained, treading water beside him.

“Then swim,” Remus replied.

“Swimming is the one thing that I’m not the best at,” Sirius admitted grudgingly.

“What, all that old family money and your parents never paid for swimming lessons?” Remus teased but he followed Sirius back to the shallows.

“I think they were hoping I’d just drown actually,” Sirius said once he could stand. “I wonder why Reg never got any swimming lessons though. Well, it’ll be on their conscience if he ever drowns. If they even have a conscience, that is.”

“What if you drown?”

“Oh, it definitely wouldn’t be a weight on their conscience. They’d probably pat themselves on the back and go ‘see, this is what happens to gay, Gryffindor, blood traitors.”

“That’s… really fucked up,” Remus said. Sirius shrugged and submerged his head in the water. When he came back up, Remus splashed him in the face, starting a short water fight that Remus had clearly won (no matter what Sirius said).

They didn’t stay in the ocean much longer because the lower the sun sank, the colder the water got. They got out of the water, dried themselves with their wands and then sat back down on their beach towel. The blue water was crystal clear and above it, the sky now looked pink. It was a beautiful sight. But Remus was watching Sirius’ face instead. His wind-swept hair, blue-grey eyes squinting at the setting sun, rays of orange light giving his skin a golden look. Remus’ heart was beating loudly in his ears.

“What?” Sirius asked when he noticed Remus’ staring. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Normally this would be the point where Remus would look away hurriedly, his face burning, claiming that he wasn’t looking at Sirius and joking that he should deflate his ego because not everything was about him. And maybe it was the way Sirius looked today, different from what Remus was used to, in a different setting or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen Sirius in weeks and his resolve had weakened, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away today.

“Moony,” Sirius said. Remus’ heart skipped a beat. “What? Is it my hair?” Sirius’ hand reached up into his hair and ran his fingers through it. It looked both messier and neater somehow. Remus didn’t understand it. Remus would never admit it out loud, not after the number of times he had teased Sirius about it, but Sirius’ hair was every bit as perfect as his arrogant ass claimed it was.

“It’s you,” Remus said, without thinking. “Just… all of you.” Sirius looked at him, eyes wide.

“W-What do you mean?”

“I—” Remus started, when suddenly it hit him what he was about to do. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was going to tell Sirius. He was actually going to do it. “Nevermind,” he mumbles, looking away and blushing as he should’ve done a minute ago when Sirius had caught him staring in the first place.

“What? No, come on, Remus, just tell me,” Sirius teased. Remus shrugged. Sirius turned around so he was facing Remus.

“Remus,” he said, “whatever it is you can tell me. I’m here for you, no matter what.” Remus hesitated.

“Promise you won’t hate me?” he said. He felt stupid asking the question because even if Sirius did promise, it wasn’t a binding contract. Sirius couldn’t control his hatred. Nobody could.

“I promise,” Sirius said. “I could never hate you, Remus.” He looked genuine but Remus knew better than to believe it was true. Promises are broken more often than they’re kept. But not with Sirius, he thinks. Sirius has never broken a promise he made to Remus. Not once. Well, he’s about to, said a voice in his head. Remus tried to ignore that voice as he spoke.

“Okay,” Remus let out a shaky breath. “Okay. I… I like you, Sirius. Like, um, a lot.” Sirius remained silent for a moment.

“I like you too, Rem,” he said quietly. Remus felt his chest burn.

“You don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. Because Sirius couldn’t… he couldn’t possibly… But his thoughts are interrupted when Sirius speaks again

“Oh, I think I do,” Sirius said. Remus opened his mouth to reply but Sirius got there first. “Can… can I kiss you?” Remus closed his mouth.

“W-What?” he stuttered, his brain taking several moments to process what Sirius had just said to him.

“We don’t have to,” Sirius said hurriedly. “I was only—” But Remus cut him off by pressing their lips together. In a rush of adrenaline, fear and excitement he ignores the voice in his head saying this is a bad idea, that he misunderstood something, that this isn’t really what Sirius wants and instead he listens to Sirius. He hears Sirius’ voice echoing inside his head. Can I kiss you? Can I kiss you? Can I kiss you? Yes, you bloody well can. This is all Remus has wanted, what he’s been dreaming about for months. But not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined what it would be like to really kiss Sirius. To have Sirius kiss him back. To thread his fingers in Sirius’ hair and feel Sirius’ hands pressing into his back, holding him close. And with all of Remus’ expansive vocabulary, he couldn’t think of a single word to describe this feeling that could even come close to how extraordinary it is. All he could think was Sirius. Sirius is touching me. Sirius is holding me. Sirius is kissing me.

When they break apart, they’re both breathless. Remus can’t think straight. Everything in his brain is one big mess.

“You— I— we just…” Remus has seemingly forgotten how to speak. And the grin on Sirius’ face is definitely not helping.

“Told you I understand,” Sirius said, taking Remus’ hand in his.

“You actually… like me?” Remus asked, bewildered.

“Um, yeah,” Sirius said, laughing as if it had been obvious. “For, like, a really long time.”

“I– why didn’t you say anything?” Remus asked.

“I could ask you the same,” Sirius said, shrugging. “But I don’t think it matters much. What matters is that I like you and you like me and…”

“And?” Remus prompted. Sirius looked him in the eyes and bit his lip.

“And I’d like to, um… take you out. On a date. Sometime. If that’s something that you might be interested in?” He said it like a question, looking nervous up at him.

“Yeah, I– of course, I–I’d love to go on a date with you,” Remus said. He could feel himself blushing. God, he was so awkward. Sirius cupped his cheeks with his hand, leaning towards closer again, ghosting his lips on Remus’.

“Your face is warm,” he said, his lips brushing against Remus’ mouth as he spoke, which only made Remus blush harder.

“Well no fucking shit,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. And then he kissed Sirius properly, fitting their mouths together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When the sun had gone down, they finally left the beach, each going back to his own home. Remus hadn’t known how badly Sirius would be punished for sneaking out the following day; if he had he might have never agreed to it. Or might have told Sirius not to go home.

It was that summer that Sirius finally decided to run away from home for good. Remus couldn’t help but feel guilty no matter how many times Sirius told him that he would have done it anyway. Besides, meeting at the beach was Sirius’ idea, not Remus’. But Remus couldn’t forget the moment he finally understood just how terrible things had been at the Black household.

He remembered going over to the Potter’s house after getting a letter from James saying that Sirius was staying with him. He remembered being horrified when he saw Sirius’. Bruised and scarred from the blows that his own parents struck and curses that they fired at him. That night he cradled Sirius, holding him close and promising that he would take care of Sirius, that Sirius was safe with him. He told Sirius that he loved him and that he always will. It had never occurred to him that maybe Sirius wouldn’t say the same about him.

Tossing, turning, struggled through the night with someone new and I could go on and on, on and on. Lantern, burning, flickered in the night, only you but you were still gone, gone, gone

Everything had changed in a single night. In a single night, he had lost Lily, James and Peter. He’d lost Sirius too but not in the same way. He’d lost them all because of Sirius. Sirius had killed them. And in doing so, Sirius had been lost as well. He hadn’t died but Remus counted him with the losses. He might as well have died. He’s dead to me, Remus thinks, he doesn’t matter. He killed them. He killed them all. It was all him. The man that he knew had died. Remus had wondered how long ago it had happened.

He had been tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep from fear of the war, images of everyone he had lost, turning to Sirius for comfort. To someone he thought loved him. But this was someone else. Someone new. This wasn’t the boy he’d fallen in love with.

Remus remembered laying in bed the night before everything had gone to hell. It felt like a million years ago, but he remembered it all the same. He remembered how Sirius hadn’t spoken to him in the weeks before. He remembered devising a plan to find out if Sirius still loved him. Because that’s what he did best. At school, he devised plans for pranks. After school, he helped devise plans for the Order. He was good at planning ahead. So he made a plan. Because he couldn’t go on living in the same apartment as Sirius, sleeping in the same bed without exchanging a word, not knowing whether Sirius still reciprocated his feelings. His plan kept him sane. But his plan had failed. Or maybe it had succeeded. It just hadn’t given him the results he’d been hoping for. Because when he got into bed that night, he waited long enough that Sirius would think he was asleep. Then he turned towards Sirius and brushed his fingers on Sirius’ back. And Sirius got up and walked away. And just like that, the last flame of hope Remus had left flicked out.

Remus remembered thinking that Sirius had fallen out of love. But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he had simply never loved Remus in the first place. Maybe this wasn’t someone new at all. Maybe this person, this murderer, was in fact the very same boy he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Maybe this was all part of some sick scheme. Maybe Sirius had hated him all along. Sirius had promised he would never hate Remus. But what is a promise, really? Promises are made to be broken. Remus had to learn that time and time again. He should just stop believing people when they make promises. He wouldn’t believe anymore, he told himself. He promised himself. There was nobody left to believe. Nobody left to promise him anything anyway. Sirius was gone. They were all gone, all his friends. And they’re never coming back.

Your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave. Your smile, my ghost, I fell to my knees.

Remus’ world is on fire. Everything has burned the ground and he’s left to scrape away the ashes and try to find something he can put back together. Alone.

He can still feel the sting of Sirius’ lips against his cheek. He can still remember Sirius’ easy smile, his light-hearted laughter ringing through the walls of the room that Remus is in right now. But then he blinks again and now he’s seeing Sirius’ face on a ‘wanted’ poster for the first time. He doesn’t remember how he found the poster that night. It’s not important anyway. All he remembers is the feeling of looking down and seeing a photo of the love of his life behind bars, arrested for the murder of his three best friends. He remembers collapsing. Literally, falling to his knees as quickly as the tears fell down his cheeks. He remembers crying, sobbing, screaming out.

He remembers thinking of every happy moment he’d ever had with his friends, with his boyfriend. He’d never make any more memories like that. He had felt empty that day. Hollow. That feeling still hasn’t gone away. Remus feels like a ghost. A ghost of the memories from before this all happened. He haunts himself. But Remus is not a ghost. He’s the only one still left alive. He’d rather be a ghost right now. He’d rather be dead. At least then he wouldn’t feel this pain. At least then he wouldn’t feel like he’s been pulled apart. Nobody can glue him back together now. There’s nobody left alive that would try. There’s nobody left alive, period. Nobody but him.

This love is good, this love is bad, this love is alive back from the dead, oh, oh, oh. These hands had to let it go free, and this love came back to me, oh, oh, oh. This love left a permanent mark, this love is glowing in the dark, oh, oh, oh. These hands had to let it go free, and this love came back to me, oh, oh, oh

Sirius has been staying at Remus’ apartment for a couple of days now, sleeping on the couch in Remus’ living room. It’s been weeks since that night he found out the truth. The night he nearly killed everybody he cared about. The few still left alive. The night he saw Sirius again for the first time in twelve years. It’s been weeks but Remus can’t figure out how he feels about Sirius after everything they’ve been through. On one hand, Remus can’t believe how unbelievably lucky he is to have Sirius back. He can’t believe that Sirius is here. That he’s innocent. And he wants things to go back to how they were. He knows that’s impossible but he wishes it could happen.

But on the other hand, there are still so many complications, so many questions. Is being together wise? Is it advisable? Is it responsible? Even if Sirius wasn’t still a wanted criminal, would they be able to repair their relationship? To pick up their shattered love and piece it back together? They’d been through so much together and so much apart. Remus isn’t the same person he was 12 years ago and neither is Sirius. Does Sirius even still love him? Does he still love Sirius, after everything? He buried those feelings deep, deep down inside him on the night of Sirius’ arrest. Are they still there? Do they still exist, locked somewhere in the depths of his heart? Remus is sure they do. What else could be squeezing in his chest every time he looks at Sirius? It’s like a game of tug-a-war in his mind, back and forth. This love is good, this love is bad.

All this is why, right now, when Sirius is saying that they need to talk and they’re seated in the living room side by side on the couch, Remus feels like words are failing him. He’s disappeared into his own head until Sirius’ words snap him out of it, his voice ringing in Remus’ head.

“Remus?”

“Yeah?” he says, sounding dazed.

“I–I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you, Remus, I promise.” His eyes pleaded with Remus to believe him. Remus had promised himself that he would never believe people when they make promises. But here he was, believing again. Never believe a promise, even when you’re the one making the promise to yourself. Especially when you make the promise to yourself.

“I—” Sirius starts again, seeing that Remus doesn’t know what to say. He closes his eyes and takes a breath before continuing. “I still love you, Remus. And I understand if you don’t feel the same anymore, really I get it. But I just thought you should know. I’ll always love you.” Remus can barely breathe. Sirius still loves him. This is a bad idea, says a voice in his head. Fuck good and bad. Remus doesn’t care. The important this is that this love is fucking alive. It died. And now it’s back. Back from the dead. Sirius is back. He came back to me, Remus thinks. He’s innocent. He came back and now he’s telling me he still loves me. Sirius is here. Remus desperately wants this to be real. He wants them to be real again.

Sirius’ love left a permanent mark on Remus. Not like his scars. This is something different. More like a tattoo. Something that he’d chosen at first and couldn’t get rid of later. In all the years that Sirius had been in Azkaban, in all the years Remus had willed himself to forget Sirius, to hate him, the tattoo had never faded. And now that Sirius is back, Remus doesn’t have to want it to fade. So in a lapse of judgement, he kisses Sirius. He kisses Sirius and that tiny flame that had flickered out all those years ago is back. Remus feels it fill him up as Sirius kisses him back, hands in hair, arms around waists, fingertips on bare skin. And when they break apart, Remus still feels the warmth of Sirius’ body against his.

“I missed you so much,” Sirius murmurs against his lips and Remus feels like he’s back on that beach the first time he kissed Sirius.

“I missed you too,” Remus says, a tear trickling down his face.

“Really?” Sirius asks, pulling away to look at Remus with his eyebrows raised. “But you thought I was a murderer?”

“I know,” Remus says. “I didn’t want to miss you. But I did. I couldn’t help it. I wanted you back.”

“I’m back now,” Sirius says, hugging Remus tightly. “I’m back and I’m never leaving. And I’m all yours, love.”

“I never stopped loving you,” Remus whispers in his ear, tears spilling from his eyes even though they’re squeezed shut. “I hated myself for it. But I loved you every day you were locked in that cell. And I still love you now.”

“I love you too,” Sirius whispers back.

It’s the only light in this crushing, suffocating darkness of death and war and grief and guilt. That flame, his and Sirius’ love, glows amidst the dark. And it’s what keeps Remus going. And this time, Remus will never let go of Sirius.

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high-supernatural · 3 years ago

Text

Memories

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault hints, crying, soft kai, a lil boob touching, Stephan drives her off a bridge

Summary: She finds out the real story of what happened to her after a near-death experience. Kai agrees to comfort her in her own way.

(I wrote this with “she/her” instead of “V” because this is the last part I’ll be writing as a series, the rest will be written as one shot’s with she/her pronouns because if I continue to work on the series it’ll become an entire novel. So instead of writing a novel, I’ll just write the big plot points as one shots after this)

Another couple of weeks had passed since their ritual. Almost every day that would pass, they would go out and look for answers for what they saw and would come up empty handed.

One day they finally found something that could lead them to another lead for answers – an ancient necklace that was owned by a witch in her distant bloodline that could allow her to connect with the original owner. The only problem was that the necklace was worn religiously around Elena’s neck as a gift from Stephan.

That wasn’t really a problem for her. She didn’t really like Elena much, and Elena didn’t like her, but it wasn’t hard to get close enough to grab it since they both hung out with the same people.

That’s exactly what she did. She kept it with her for a week, waiting for a specific celestial event to happen for the spell all while dodging calls from Stephan and Elena accusing her of taking it.

She took to the woods by herself on the night before the celestial event to find the perfect spot under the moon to preform it. Just as she was about to make her way off the trail she was struck by a tranquilizing dart in her neck, knocking her out cold.

She woke up in the passenger seat of Stephan’s car, “oh, good, you’re up,” he said shutting his phone off.

Her vision was blurry, but she knew who it was and was annoyed to say the least.

“Have you seen Elena’s necklace?” He asked as if he already knew.

She blinked to focus her vision, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rubbed her eyes.

Stephan leaned in, “here’s what’s gonna happen… you’re either going to tell me where it is, hand it over, or I’m going to hold you here until you do.”

“You’re really about to do all this for a damn necklace?” she asked, still very annoyed.

They went back and forth for a while about how it’s “Elena’s necklace,” and how crazy Stephan was to host a hostage situation over it before he turned the car on, “ok, you don’t wanna tell me where it is, fine,” he slammed on the gas, “you’ve been a cosmic pain in everyone’s ass since you showed up in Mystic Falls by the way. We’re trying to rid the town of chaos and mischief and here you come…”

Stephan was driving at what seemed to be over 100 miles an hour with a crazy look in his eye, “so nobody wants to tell me where it is, I’ll drive you off the bridge and find it myself,” he spat.

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t drive someone off a bridge over a damn necklace, Stephan, plus if I do have it, you’d be losing your chance to get it back if you do,” she said unphased by his threat.

“That’s only if nobody wants to tell me. It’s really no sweat off my back if you live or die but… hey maybe Kai knows where it is,” he said as if he had just thought of the most iconic solution and dialed Kai’s phone.

As they approached the bridge, she began to take his threat more seriously. All she heard was muffled noises as adrenaline of being driven off a bridge kicked in.

She yelled panicked knowing Kai was on the phone, “Kai just tell him where the stupid necklace is he’s gonna drive me off the bridge.”

“Too late,” Stephan muttered with a smirk as the car flew into the water after he jumped out.

She tried to roll her window down before the car hit the water and was fully submerged, but Stephan had the window locks on, so she had to crawl over to the driver’s side to roll it down, throwing her against the wind shield and knocking her unconscious again as she got the window halfway down.

Just like the time she held her breath and an unknown entity came over her when she rescued Enzo, the same thing happened here. While she was unconscious the car fully submerged into the water for minutes until the entity awoke her and struggled to break the window open through the slowness of the water.

She remembered none of this. She awoke on the rocks only remembering being driven off the bridge and a replay of the things that had happened to her that Kai made her forget.

She sat there coughing up water and trying to catch her breath as the replays engrained themselves deeper. She knew she couldn’t deal with it right now though, she needed to get back to the motel for the necklace, so she started walking her way back to the road.

She walked expressionless until Kai drove up beside her and got out,

“What happened,” he asked throwing his hands up as he walked towards her.

“I don’t know, Stephan threw a fit about the necklace and thought it was reasonable to drive me and his car off the bridge,” she said silent and expressionless, darting her eyes not to look into Kai’s.

Kai looked at her, realizing that for the first time in probably forever, he was pissed about something because it had happened to somebody he cares about, but he still didn’t know what to say other than, “well, are you okay,” silently kicking himself for asking after he realized how big what happened was compared to the question he asked.

“Yeah, I just wanna get back,” she mumbled and went to open the door, but Kai grabbed it quicker.

She was silent the whole way back, something that was unusual for her normally.

They drove into the parking lot of their motel and Kai stopped her before she could open the door by grabbing her arm, “hey, are you good,” he asked, “you didn’t say anything the entire way back and you love to talk.”

She was still expressionless, “I’m good, I just need a minute,” her voice was almost robotic.

“Talk to me…” Kai tried to speak but was cut off.

“I’m about to freak out, and it’s not gonna be cute,” she spoke with a little more seriousness to her robotic tone, “so just give me a minute,” she began to walk towards their room.

He had never seen her like this before. They would usually make jokes the whole night whenever something that would typically be traumatic happened, but this time she seemed as though she was here physically but elsewhere mentally.

She made a beeline to the bathroom before Kai called out “let me know if I can do any—” she shut the door, “—thing.”

She stood at the sink and placed her hands on it to steady her balance as things began to look blurry and lightheaded. She tried rubbing her eyes to make the feeling go away but it kept getting stronger as her chest felt heavier, head felt heavier, and memories of that night months before screamed at her.

Kai leaned on the doorframe to hear what was going on but couldn’t hear anything.

She stood, taking deep breaths before it got increasingly harder to breath and gave into the onset hyperventilation and inevitable tears.

Kai knocked but she didn’t answer so he opened the door to find her with her hands in her hair, breathing fast, with a concerned expression.

She didn’t even hear him walk in at first until she felt a presence behind her as he went to touch her arm. She sat on her knees slowly before Kai could touch her, “Kai I can’t breathe,” he sat on his knees in front of her and put his hand on her head, unsure of what to say.

Grabbing his wrist to pull his hand into her lap, gripping it tightly she put her other hand on her chest and coughed, “I can’t breathe…. Why can’t I breathe…” she let the tears fall before placing her arms over her head and leaned forward until she was leaning against her elbows on the floor so she could catch her breath without having Kai see her cry.

Kai gripped her shoulders and pushed her up to look at him. She covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to return back to the position he moved her from before he stopped her by keeping his hands on her shoulders, “tell me what happened,” he spoke softly, gently removing the hand she had over her mouth.

“I remembered everything—” she sobbed harder and put her hand back over her mouth, leaning into Kai, “tell me it didn’t really happen,” she sobbed.

Kai knew what she was talking about now and pulled her to lean against the wall with her head on his chest as she sobbed more.

“Tell me I’m making stuff up, or that Stephan has sick humor, tell me someth—” she couldn’t finish her sentence before burying her face back into Kai.

He stared at the wall in front of him as if he could feel what she was feeling, “I can’t,” he whispered, causing her sobs to get louder,

“That couldn’t have happened… I wouldn’t have let that happen… it couldn’t have been me, maybe I just witnessed—”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her as she hid her face in her hands on his chest, “it did, V… I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you different… I’m sorry…” he had a look of remorse as she moved her hand to her scalp as if to cover her ears from what he was saying and placed his hand in her hair with her.

“I gave you different memories, I didn’t want you to remember but something must have triggered it earlier…” he spoke fast and buried his forehead onto the top of her head when she kept sobbing harder, “I should’ve been there…”

“What do you need me to do? Tell me and I’ll do it, anything… let me make it better,” he rubbed his hand on her back to comfort her, but she was too lost in her mind to notice, “you can’t make it better,” she cried.

He sat with her and let her cry until she couldn’t anymore before taking her to their bed.

She pulled his arm as she laid down or else, he wouldn’t have know if he should lay beside her or not. This whole situation was completely new to him, and he only wanted to make it better but had no idea how.

She laid on her side and pulled his arm around her for comfort.

Kai buried his face in her hair by her ear, “what can I do?” he asked again.

“Make me feel something else…” she teared up again.

“What do you mean?” he whispered and rubbed his hand on her upper arm.

“All I can feel is their hands on me and I cant get rid of it,” she choked up, “so maybe if I feel yours instead—” she placed her hand over her face to avoid crying again.

“shh… it’s okay,” Kai whispered surprisingly sweet and kissed her hair, “where do you want ‘em?”

She lifted herself up to place an arm under her neck, laying her head in the crease of his arm and slid the other to her chest.

She fell asleep as Kai gently rubbed from her chest to her stomach repeatedly, occasionally kissing her hair in between.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker x you #kai parker imagine #kai parker fluff #kai parker series #kai parker smut #malachai parker #tvd #tvd au #tvd fanfiction #tvd series

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clementinesjourney · 3 years ago

Text

I'm not crazy - Pt 1. Escape

AN: This is the first part. I really hope you will enjoy it.

Pairings: None yet, bucky x reader x steve in the future.

Warnings: slight violence (mention); fear

Words: 3,6K

Summary: You got attacked by terrorists, mistaking you for someone else, then things escalate when they find out you have some powers, even you didn't know you had. Luckily you are in good hands by then.

Series master list

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It was a really cold, windy day and it even rained. You only heard the rain and the wind from the little window on the far top left of the basement cell you were currently locked in.

A week ago you got kidnapped on the street when you were just going home from grocery shopping.

You were nobody, no wealth, no rich family members, nor politicians. NOTHING. You were raised in an orphanage since your family didn't wanted you either. SO you were immediately sure that they've got the wrong person, but you knew full well that you couldn't say a word without getting hit, so you decided to stay quiet and just try not to anger them.

You let a single teardrop fall as you watched the town you knew all too well getting smaller and smaller by the moment.

It took them a week to get a hold of Tony to tell him, that they've got Pepper's favourite niece, Penny.

Of course, you knew you aren't Pepper's niece... She basically vanished from public eye not long after going to Europe for uni. She probably wanted to hide from all the Avenger stuff, not wanting any of the attention. Because of course all they family members were under close eye too.

Unfortunately you looked just like her, except you had naturally ginger hair, and a few tattoos you made for yourself when you thought that was the carreer for you.

They beat you up several times in the past week. They were so angry that you wouldn't utter a word. At some point they tried to get you to write down your answers since they believed you were mute. When you couldnt give them Pepper's or Tony's number, they started to hit you with heavy ropes as well, you now had a busted lip, a bleeding head, and bleeding rope bruises and several purple and black patches of bruised skin all over your body.

Slowly after another week of torture and beatings, when they were tired of not getting the ransom they hoped for, they decided to just get rid of you.

A man entered your cell, you've seen no remorse in his eyes. You were tied up in a corner, hands above your head, you could just about sit down. You were tired, dehydrated and starving, beaten to pulp repeatedly. This man was the only one who can help you by ending your misery, and you really truly hoped he would do just that.

-bang-

There was a loud ring, assuming by the pain in your stomach he probably shot you, and missed just a few inches. Your blood started to flow down your stomach and then your thighs, until it reached the ground. You felt weak, slipping into unconciusness. The last thing you saw was a single tear dropping shining like the sun, and then it went all black. You passed out.

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When Tony got the news about the kidnapping of Pepper's niece, the first thing he did was to call Penny. He knew that Penny was in hiding, and happy with her fiancé in France, far from all the attention and paparazzis. He knew he wasn't going to pay the millions for the ransom of a stranger, but he also knew he had to save you. You didn't ask to be in this situation, you were just unfortunate.

First they had to locate you though, which was hard. The terrorists were stupid enough to mistake you for Penny, but smart enough to be really hard to find. That why it took 3 phone calls and about a week worth of searching to find out where exactly could they keep you.

They knew they had to be fast, cause they probably soon will find out that you in fact aren't Penny. They had to save you.

They slowly sneaked into the house deep in the woods, capturing and knocking out the terrorists, but one was missing. Steve and Bucky looked at eachother in fear that they were too late. That's when they heard the single shot from the basement. They ran down as if it was their life thats hanging on the line. They shot the terrorist but then they saw the blood. You were so weak, nearly unconsciuos. Bucky held you in his arms princess style, you were clinging to him, burying your face into his chest, barely alive, seemingly calm and okay with the fact that you might just die tonight,

They took you back to the compound, right into the hospital ward Tony had set up a year ago. Bucky never left your side, even when you were in surgery so the doctors could remove the bullet.

Hours later you were sleeping stiched up in the hospital room, Bucky right next to your bed, holding your weak hand, praying that you're gonna make it. He didn't know who you were, but he felt the need to protect you.

He only left your side 2 days later, when they had to go on a quick mission.

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You woke up on the third day. Feeling sore and extremely thirsty. You tried to get up to get some water, but you were too weak, falling almost immediately. All the machines that were silently beeping away following your vitals started to alert the nurses as you fell, them not being able to continue checking your vitals. They rushed in, putting you back in the bed, giving you water which you downed in one. You tried to talk but no sound left your mouth. You were still terrified which they could see too, so they gave you sedatives, putting you to sleep almost immediately. You needed to heal and get stronger, badly.

On their way back Bucky got a call from the head nurse saying that you finally woke up, but since you were panicking they had to sedate you again. He had to get back to you quickly. Just try anything to calm you down so they can start finding your family or friends or anybody who could take care of you afterwards.

When he got back, he took a quick shower to wash away the blood of HYDRA agents, changed into casual wear and ran to your room. Upon entering he saw the frown on your sleeping face, he knew all too well. You were having nightmares. He immediately got on your bed and took you in his embrace hoping it would calm you down rather than send you into further panic. and it happened just as he thought. You stirred awake, clinging onto his shirt desperately, trying to find shelter from your nightmare. They were beating you again because you couldnt speak, you couldnt tell the answers. You started to cry, pushing your face further into something hard. When Bucky started to caress your hair, whispering - it will be okay angel, you are safe now, i will protect you from anyone and anything, shhhh. - Only then did you realize that the hard something is a strangers chest, his smell oddly familiar and shooting, so you stayed there, clinging to his sweater. Bucky continued to caress your hair.

When your breathing returned back to normal he slowly peeled away, trying to look at your face. He carefully reached down to your cheeks, wiping away the remaining tears with his thumb - Is it better now? Can you tell me your name? - He said.

You looked at him with teary eyes, you opened you mouth, you really tried to say your name, you wanted him to know. But no sound came out.. Defeated you pushed your forehead into his chest, breathing in his smell, then when you looked up again, you took his flesh hand, opened his palm and began to write your name with your fingers letter by letter.

- (Y/n), is that your name? - you began nodding a small smile forming on your lips. - You have a beautiful name (Y/n), im Bucky, nice to meet you. - he shook your hands softly, smiling down at you. You blushed a little bit, hiding in his chest one again. Suddenly you realized you must still be very weak, you slowly drifted off to sleep, still clinging to Bucky's sweater. He didn't mind staying if it meant they didn't have to sedate you again and again to keep you from hurting yourself. A few hours later Bucky was still hugging you when Steve entered the room. It was already afternoon, the room only lit by the sunset outside. Steve smiled at you two, asking Bucky in whispers about you.

- She's so afraid Stevie, she tried to talk, to tell me her name but literally no sound left her.

-We'll have to know her name to find her family or friends at least, Tony won't let her stay here.

- I know Stevie, i just want to know she will be safe, her name is (Y/n) tho. She wrote it in my palm. - Bucky gave a small smile as he remembered how your tiny fingers felt in his palm and in his sweater.

- Come Bucky, we need to leave her so the docs can check on her state.

-I can't leave her, you should've seen how she clung to me while she had a nightmare. I can calm her down. You know i can't let them sedate her any longer. I was there, i had to be sedated. I can't let them do that to her too. You have to understand Steve! Please.. - Pleaded Bucky, slightly panicking.

Seeing his friend so close to panic over trying to protect youhe couldn't get himself to deny this request. He just nodded silently then left the room.

When the doctors came in and checked your bruises you were afraid, but Bucky never left your side, which calmed you a bit. The check up was soon over, the doctors leaving you and Bucky alone again.

You looked at him with a shy smile, pointing at the paper and pen in the corner. He knew what you meant so he brought them to you.

You began scribbling:

Im sorry for keeping you here, you can leave if you want, you need rest as well. Im really thankful that you calmed me down by the way, also for saving me, i really thought i'd die in that basement. I still wish i did.. If you could lend me a sweater and some pants then i could leave, go home. I don't wanna be an inconvinience for anybody. I can't afford to pay for this treatment anyway. Im really sorry, but i have to leave. If you keep me here any further they will find things, and i don't want to be a lab-rat, please help me get out of here Bucky. Please.

Bucky began reading all what you wrote, you could see hes jaw clench in frustration. He balled his fists in anger. He looked at you with sadness in his eyes, that's when you knew he hurt in the past too, he was a lab-rat too. Hot tears were streaming down your face, you weren't even sure why. He suddenly got up, taking your hand in his. He looked you in the eyes, trying to find something, anything..

-(Y/n) i'll never gonna let anyone hurt you, you'll never be a lab rat. Why would you think that? Am i missing something? Is that why you don't talk? I can only help if you tell me. I promise to burn the papers after if that's what you're worried about. I want to keep you safe, i know you migth not believing me right now, but i'm willing to stay and prove it to you. Hell i won't leave this room without you if you don't want me to. -Said Bucky.

You nodded, closing your eyes then took your hand from his, slowly breathing in and out, focusing your energies. Slowly a faint sunset-yellow glow appeared near your fingertips, then it started to swirl around the room, as if it was exploring the new territory, forming bird shapes, little sparkling dust-like particles. Bucky stared in awe, he saw Wanda's powers, but they were still nothing like yours. He saw as the light started to swirl just around you, healing your bruises. When no bruises were seen, the glow disappeared. Bucky started to go towards you, touching your cheeks, searching for the bruises that were present just minutes ago, which he thought will take weeks to heal. Now they were gone without marks.

In that moment the door burst open, revealing a very angry Tony, you flinched and quickly tried to hide behind Bucky.

-Bucky, you need to let me get to her. I saw what you saw, we have cameras everywhere. She cant stay here, we need to bring her to Banner so we can see further into what are we dealing with. I can't put any of you or any of the people outside in danger.

-NO, i promised her that she won't be a lab-rat like i was. She didn't hurt me, nor anybody else. THEY've hurt her, for two weeks Tony. You can't do this to her.

_ Bucky, if you don't let me take her calmly, i'll have to get security to do just that. Its just a few tests.

-NO. -said Bucky, and in that moment security guards appeared tearing Bucky away from you. You started panicking, tears streaming down your face. The sunset-glow appeared again, around you and one around Bucky this time, protecting you both from the guards, whoever trying to touch you is getting burned as if they're touching the sun. When they stopped trying you whisper sorry, then start to run away.

-(Y/n), (Y/n)!!! - Bucky shouted, but you couldn't hear him. When the glow disappeared he knew he had to find you. There was a small forest right next to the compound, he would've run there, so that was the first place he knew he had to look, and he had to find you fast, faster than Tony.

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

You fainted after running for god knows how long in your hospital gown, barefoot. Your feet started to bleed cause of the twigs and stones, but you didn't care. You had to run, to save yourself. Suddenly in a half daze, you felt someone picking you up, and bringing you somewhere. Then you fell into unconciousness one again, body going limp.

You woke up hours later on the floor of what looked like a fishtank. See through glass from every side, blinding white lights inside, darkness outside. Only the sound of someone tapping away on a keyboard was present. You tried to look, just see who that was, and if they gonna let you leave at all. You promised yourself at age 14 when you discovered your power that you'll never show it to anyone. Then 11 years later, at a weak moment you showed it to the first person ever, and thats where it got you. He promised to keep you safe, yet here you were. Locked up, and him nowhere in sight. You were so sad. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again. You broke down then and there, didn't care about the cameras, the stranger in front of the computer, nothing. You cried for what felt like hours, then fell asleep.

You only woke up when the door of the tank opened. A tall, muscular blonde walked in, seemingly no emotion on his face. You tried to hide in a corner, but well, this wasn't exactly the situation and place you could hide.

He stopped in the middle of the room, don't wanting to send you in a panic. Then i hit you, he was the one who brought you here, it was the same scent. A single tear left your eyes, rolling down your cheek.

-(Y/n), hey, im Steve, im a friend of Bucky, you are safe, nobody's gonna hurt you. You just have to trust me. Are you hungry?

-I just wanna leave. Please, you don't understand, I need to leave. - you whispered. Even the super-soldier could barely hear you. He saw it all in your eyes. You'll may never trust them at this point. He didn't agree on Tony's ways, but he could do nothing. Thats when an angry Bucky barged in, puching Steve in the face.

-HOW COULD YOU BRING HER HERE? HOW? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE STEVE? DO YOU?.. he shouted, not minding anything.

You, on the otherhand, too aware of everything around you collapsed, hands on your head, tugging at your hair, crying whispered - please stop. please. - before feeling a needle in your neck, looking up you saw an unfamiliar figure with a worried look on his face, and then again slipping into unconsciousness. It was Banner, he sedated you.

Bucky ran to your side, putting your hand in his lap, caressing your hair, crying that he failed to keep his promise to keep you safe a minute after he promised you. He touched you with such worry that when you wake up you might never wanna see him again... He looked at your now calm features, caressing your cheek with a thumb, hoping that this won't be the last time he gets to touch your face, to hold you close.

Steve looked at the scene full of worries with an icepack on his face. He knew that he needs to help Bucky to keep you away from this not just yours but for Bucky's sanity as well..

You woke up the next morning ( not as if you knew, there werent any windows around), you felt something under your head, it was breathing steadily as if sleeping. You slowly looked up, only to see Bucky's sleeping face. He slept peacefully holding you. Peeling yourself from his arms were the hardest thing you had to do lately, it broke your heart, but he broke your trust minutes after promising to keep you safe. To be fair, he couldn't do anything and you knew it, but then again he rather be locked up here with you then to sneak you out, right into freedom, so it didn't make it any better. You got up and sat in the farthest corner, playing with your fingers and hair.

Bucky soon woke up cause your warmth was gone. When his eyes found yours you could see the hurt in them, but you couldn't do anything. You were just as broken, and you refused to put any further trust into the man in the other side of the room.

The intercom let out some static noise, then a familiar voice started speaking.

- (Y/n) please just listen to my voice. Im Steve, i brought you here on orders, but i promise nobody's gonna hurt you. I know you won't believe me at first, but please try. Also the man inside the room with you is my best friend so please take care of him while his in there, i'd hate him to get hurt. Okay? Could you do that for me dear? Please.

You nodded. You didn't want to hurt him, you just wanted to be left alone, so you turned around now facing the corner. If he doesn't gonna leave you might as well only show your back to him.

And with that you and Bucky sat in the tank in silence for the day.

He tried to talk to you at some point, but you never answered him. When Banner left the lab, he flicked down the lights letting you sleep. After hours of tossing and turning in the cold corner, you knew you won't sleep, unless you swallow your pride and snuggle up to the soldier in the other corner. As hard as it may be. So you got up, slowly inched closer, he didn't said a word, just watched you. He figured you were probably cold in your hospital gown, so he took off his sweater and handed it to you. You hesitantly took it, muttering a small -thank you - which he could barely hear, and put the sweater on yourself. It ended just above your knees. You sat down next to him, started to fiddle with the hem of the sweater. It smellt so damn good.

You looked at him, and slowly got yourself to talk.

- i know you couldn't have done anything. thanks for trying anyway. but why are you okay with being locked up with me in here?

-Because im guilty. im a damn super-soldier, and i couldn't keep those damn guards away from you, i couldn't help you when you needed it. then i wasn't there to find you first. i wanna make it better, even with a little bit. If the only thing i can do now is being here with you and lend you my sweater then i'd do it a thousand times. i really hope someday you'll find it in your heart to trust me..

You saw the sincerity in his eyes. Not knowing what else to say, you scooted closer, and hide your face in his chest, half hugging him.

-i miss the sunset.

- me too. when Tony lets you outta here i'll take you up to the top of the tower and we'll watch it together okay?

- i'd like that.

then with a flick of your finger you sent a little wash of light above you two, colors of the sunset lighting the room for a moment, then you snuggled even closer to him, hand on his chest, then let yourself fall asleep.. calmly for the first time in 3 weeks.

#bucky x you #bucky x f!reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #steve rogers #avengers fanfic #steve x you #stucky x you #steve x reader

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fallin-4-ya · 4 years ago

Text

spilled amortentia

cedric diggory x reader

summary: y/n and cedric diggroy hated each other, but when things finally start to turn around for the two some secrets about some spilt amortentia will be confessed.

warnings: bickering, enemies to lovers & that's all! (gif is not mine, credit to owner!)

requested? yes/no

words: 2.1k

Y/n didn’t like Cedric Diggory. Borderline hate, if she was being honest with herself. His stupid smile, his stupid eyes, his stupid laugh, his stupid face. He was just so nice, so genuine, so handsome. And y/n wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Cedric didn’t like y/n y/l/n. Nearly hated her if he was being honest with himself. Her stupid hair, her stupid lips, her stupid voice, her stupid face. She was just so beautiful, so intelligent, so funny. And Cedric wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.

Their not so friendly hatred, competition, began third year. Nobody really knows why it began or how it started, but just that it was best you steered clear of the two when they were in the same room as each other. Something to do with potions class and a spilt amortentia, and that’s about all anyone could remember.

The charade went on for nearly three years before anyone had anything to say about it. It wasn’t until sixth year when y/n’s friend Hannah turned to her in the common room, daring to question her.

“Why do you hate Cedric so much?”

“Hannah, I don’t hate Cedric,” y/n placed a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “That would imply that I cared.”

She smiled sarcastically at Hannah, turning out of the common room and into the corridors. Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes. Yes, she might have hated Cedric, but she was right about one thing. And that, was not caring about him. y/n went on with her day, dreading the afternoon that was to come. She had double potions with Cedric.

y/n had been Cedric’s potions partner since third year. Of course, she had no idea why, as their last names so far apart and they clearly didn’t get along. Perhaps Snape had it out for her ever since she gifted him a bottle of shampoo once. But, that wasn’t the point. The point was is that she would have to spend a whole double period of potions sat beside Cedric with his horrendous, shiny hair and those horrible, rosy cheeks of his.

She gagged just thinking about it. However, the funny thing was that they had been quite the pair their first two years at Hogwarts. They could always be seen together between classes, studying in the library and even sat next to each other voluntarily. Things changed though, the following year. Cedric and y/n sat beside each other in potions, their task for the day was to brew a beginner’s batch of amortentia. Seemed simple enough. Challenging, but straight forward.

It all happened so quickly. They had just finished brewing their potion and Cedric was the first one to learn across the desk and sniff the potion. His face when completely white, looking at y/n with bulging grey eyes. She laughed, “What is it, Ced?”

“Nothing,” He answered back quickly. “Why don’t you have a go?”

Cedric pushed the cauldron towards y/n and before anybody could see or have time to stop it, the entirety of the pot tipped over and spilt all over her. Her breathing stopped and her eyes flickered up to Cedric Diggory with glaring eyes. She hardly had any time to realize what her potion smelt like because she stormed out of the room so fast and so furiously, that Cedric had no time to respond.

And it wasn’t until she was half way through the corridor when she cursed herself, because of bloody course she had to stink of Cedric Diggory. The boy who she smelt in her amortentia.

That wasn’t even the worst part, because their potion was so strong for the next week she had boys and girls alike following her around the school like puppies. Chasing after her because she stunk of their desired scent. At that point she looked far beyond loving the boy she had smelt in the love potion. She vowed that day to hate Cedric Diggory forever, and word caught onto Cedric pretty quickly because he didn’t even look her way after that.

Their new form of communication strayed farther from the wonderful conversations they once held, to quick insults thrown at each other. When eye contact was made, which was rare, eyes would either roll or simply look the other direction.

y/n shook her head, trotting off to the dungeons to where her two hours of torture would begin. She exhaled sharply, taking her seat next to the brown-haired boy. Cedric shifted in his chair, feeling the presence of y/n.

“How are you today, y/n?” Cedric asked, a tone of annoyance in his voice.

“I didn’t even know you could talk,” scoffed y/n.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

The girl laughed, “Exactly what I said it meant. Not like you ask me how I am on a daily basis, let alone speak more than two words to me unless you have to.”

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine.” Cedric said back, a smirk plastered onto his face.

“Oh, you got me on a good day, wee one.” She smiled brightly from ear to ear, then turning back to face professor Snape at the front board. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach, a nervous excitement. Before she identified the feeling, the lecture began and all attention had shifted from the pit in her stomach to the black cauldron inferno of her.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had a conversation that lasted longer than four seconds with Cedric. y/n had forgotten how soothing his voice was and his dry sense of humor had always brought a smile to her face. Yet rather than harboring these thoughts, she shook whatever she was feeling off, immediately remembering why she hated the boy. Though, however hard she tried, the next week those soft sorts of feelings made their way to the surface more often than not. And it seemed as if Cedric felt the same way.

Rather than their usual cold greetings, they acknowledged each other with nods, then the following week, a casual smile, the next a wave. The students at Hogwarts felt the world shift, because were Cedric Diggory and y/n y/l/n actually getting along? Nobody could believe that the two could co-exist in the same room without ripping the other’s head off. It became even more baffling when he approached her on more than one occasion outside of class.

It was a rainy day and y/n sat in the library working on a charms essay. She flipped mindlessly through the books, searching for something about a confundus charm; however, her searching was interrupted by a loud stack of books hitting her table.

“Oi!” She gasped, startled by the noise. The source of it being no other than Cedric Diggory himself.

“Good afternoon to you, too.” Cedric grinned.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers.” y/n remarked back, mindlessly reading through the pages of her charms text book.

“Listen, I need some help with the potions essay.” Cedric asked. She cocked her head at him, he looked rather nervous to ask for something as simple as help with a potions essay.

“Sure,” y/n shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Cedric thanked her and exited the library as swiftly as he came in. She then headed back to the common room herself, joining Hannah, who was sat by the fireplace.

“So,” Hannah started cautiously. “What did Cedric want?”

“Nothing really,” y/n sighed. “Just asked me for some help in potions that’s all.”

She shrugged and went back to writing. Hannah face palmed, looking at her friend with a disappointed expression, “You honestly believe Cedric Diggory wanted your help in potions. He nearly does all the assignments for you in class and has top marks in all his subjects.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” y/n looked up from her parchment.

“Wow, you are so bloody thick.” Hannah replied, shaking her head.

Anya, a girl in the year right below the two, laughed. She quickly brought her hand up to her mouth and went back to focusing on the book she was reading. y/n sharply looked at hear, “What are you on about, Anya?”

Anya plopped her book on her lap and laughed mockingly, “Seriously?” She beckoned the two girls who sat in front of her. y/n sent her a look, a mixture of confusion and anger etched across her face. Hannah sat in silence sharing looks with both girls.

“Well, y/n, if you really need me to spell it out for you,” Anya sighed. “You love him.”

y/n let out a laugh so loud the entire common room turned to face the group of girls. This had been the funniest thing she had heard in a long time. Tears formed in her eyes, however her laughing ceased when she looked back up at both Hannah and Anya, who held straight faces. “Why aren’t you two laughing?”

“Because-“ Hannah hesitated. “Because you are. It’s practically plain as day. You talk about him nonstop, really. Not to mention the way you look at that boy, its plain to see for anyone. You can convince yourself you still hate him, but we all know that’s a load of hippogriffs”

The two girls looked back at y/n, her lips pressed tightly together. Her thoughts danced rapidly in her mind. Visions of Cedric Diggory swarmed her and her pit in her stomach was replaced with butterflies. Did she actually like him? Was the hatred she gave him just a coverup for how she truly felt? Was she really that scared? There was no doubt that she held a deep resentment for the boy, although now a days she may even consider him an acquaintance, but love?

His stupid eyes, his stupid smile, his stupid laugh, his stupid face– oh.

She felt heat climb up to her face, turning red in an instant. y/n shook the thought, the possibility, of her loving a boy she swore to hate. She rolled up the parchment she was working on and stormed from the common room.

Trying to clear her head, y/n paced around the castle. She found herself sitting in an empty corridor, watching the sun setting from the window. A presence appeared.

“Mind if I join you?” the voice called. y/n’s head snapped up, Cedric. She nodded, motioning the space on the bench besides her.

“It’s beautiful,” Cedric said, watching the colors of the sky melt into one another.

“I suppose it is,” y/n replied, her lips tugging into a faint smile. “Reminds me of when we first came to Hogwarts, how magical everything was.”

“The good old days,” Cedric smirked. He paused, taking a deep breath. His grey eyes flickered up at her, a warms encased in his gaze. “Y/n, there’s something I have to tell you.”

He looked at her with shy eyes. y/n felt it all come up, her emotions and her thoughts, awaiting to come out. But she couldn’t let them. She stood up instantly, taking Cedric by surprise.

“No!” she shoted. “No, you can’t do this! I vowed to hate you for the rest of my life. And that's exactly what I’m going to do!”

“Are you serious?” Cedric deadpanned.

y/n looked him straight into his eyes, “Of course, I’m serious. You spilt a whole cauldron of amortentia on me.”

“We were thirteen.” He said back to her, almost sounding confused.

She huffed at his answer crossing her arms, “Well, Cedric, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you weren’t the dumb boy I smelt.”

The words fell off her tongue quicker than she could think about them. y/n gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth. Cedric stood very still, staring blankly at her. They both waited for the other to say something further, but neither of them could find the words. Cedric was the first to break the silence.

“Wait, you—you smelt me in your amortentia?” he asked slowly. y/n shook her head, looking towards the ground. “Y/n, that day in class, why I spilt the potion, I didn’t mean it. I was just so in shock because you were the girl I smelt in mine. I was so caught up in the moment. I wish I told you sooner.”

y/n’s head shot up, locking eyes with him. Cedric smiled sheepishly, a blush crawling up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Cinnamon, linen and citrus. That’s what you smell like.”

“I don’t know what to say, Cedric,” y/n smiled. “You just smelt like that horrible cologne you used to wear third year.”

Cedric laughed heartily, letting out a hey!

“Kidding,” she giggled. “Kidding. Fresh parchment, apple pie and autumn. Quite lovely really.”

Cedric took her hand, wrapping it in his. He pressed his lips gently against her knuckles, and for a moment it felt as if they were thirteen again running around the corridors, drinking butterbeers and being kids again. Where they didn’t know hatred for one another.

y/n took a deep breath, flickering her eyes up to meet his. She looked down at his lips and he leaned it, pulling her into him. His hands glided up to rest around her face, where he dived into her. It was like they had belonged there for eternity and they had been too blind to see each other in all of the perfect beauty they bestowed. All because of a nervous boy and some spilt amortentia.

(‘I still can’t believe you spilt the entire cauldron on me’ ‘Oh, shut it.)

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #cedric x reader #cedric x y/n #hufflepuff #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #amortentia

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 4 years ago

Text

Sick Days

A/N: Another Steve AU for you guys. Also, I just hit 100 followers (like after I began writing this) which is crazy so thank you all! I’ll probably do one of those follower milestone things, I just have to figure out what. Thank you again my lovelies, I love you all! Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x F!Chubby!Reader (Or skinny reader, you can really fluctuate to your body type.) Word count: 2,486 Warnings: Some slight angst against side characters, swearing.

"Where’s Y/N?” His voice boomed to his various employees, the important ones all across the glass table in the large conference room. The sunlight beaming in through floor to glass windows was interrupted with shadows of the New York skyline, or at least the few buildings that were as high if not higher than the one that occupied Rogers Industries. Everyone fell completely still, completely quiet.

“Um, she texted me this morning, saying she was very sick, Mr. Rogers.” One of his associates very quietly replied.

“She’s sick?” He asked, sighing deeply, turning around and marching out of the room. He flew past the various hallways, every employee immediately moving out of their way for him in confusion and fear. Making his way to his office on the top floor, he slammed the grand doors grabbing his phone and immediately dialing your number.

“Steve?” You answered after the third ring. Your voice was crackly, he could hear your sniffly nose from the other end, “I’m sorry I didn’t call I-” “Hey, hey, baby.” He cooed, immediately understanding you were actually sick, “No need to justify. How are you feeling?” His voice grew soft and tender, his face dropping from tensions with anger to now tensions with concern.

“Like death.” You responded, to which he sighed, “I haven’t been able to get out of bed, I have a fever of 102, I can’t eat, I couldn’t sleep last night I-” “Okay, okay, alright.” He interrupted you, thinking for a moment. “I need you to head over to my place-” “No, Steve.” You interrupted, “I am not going over to your apartment, excuse me, penthouse, in this condition.”

“Yes, you are.” He fought back.

“Steve, how am I even supposed to get out of bed?” You tried to reason, “It hurts to even pee.”

“Then I’ll pick you up. Literally.” “Steve, no.” You concluded, “Your day is already probably messed up because I’m not there to answer calls and deal with stupid people and help you with whatever you need. I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not pitying you, I’m worried about you. And no my day is not messed up.” “Yet,” You began.

“Okay, yet.” He admitted, “No one is as good of an assistant as you are. I have four people, two of whom have PhDs, trying to juggle your job. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I don’t know either,” You lightly laughed, to the best of your abilities.

“How about I come over after work then?” He settled, “I’ll bring you some food, anything you want, okay?” You hummed over the phone.

“Sounds great.” You replied, “I love you, Stevie.” You smiled lightly.

“Love you too.” He smiled as well, hanging up.

You had been Steve’s assistant for 10 years. It was funny at first, he was an unknown man starting his own company at 24, you were fresh in college at 18 and needed a job. So, after seeing your work ethic and how smart you were, he decided to hire you, finding you as the perfect fit.

You has been his constant companion for those 10 years, traveling with him all the time, attending meetings, you were always by his side. There was a silent relationship between the two of you. Both of you knew some form of chemistry existed, but never acknowledged it. Until Steve finally asked you out only four months ago.

He had finally grown mature enough to throw away his playboy-type persona. He didn’t want women just to be there, and for them to be attracted to him for his money. Though he was one of the most handsome bachelors for women to lay their eyes on. No, he wanted a true life partner.

And you had been with him since the get-go, when sometimes he couldn’t even pay you one week because everything was so tight. But you stuck with him every second of the way, and he knew if you would go out with him it wasn’t because of his money, but because of him.

Sure, you weren’t as fit as many of the girls he had dated in the past. And maybe the media wouldn’t categorize you as a “beauty”. But you were the most gorgeous woman to him. You were mature, kind, smart, organized. He bragged about you to his closest friends from the beginning, before you even began dating, categorizing you as an “intellectual”, a compliment you would brush off not wanting to boost your ego.

“Jackie,” He called one of his associates who was an acting assistant of the day.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers?” She asked over the phone.

“I need you to get all of these things, preferably from that diner off Broadway and Warren. I need it ready in exactly 20 minutes, back to me in 30.” He began, “I’ve sent them over to you. Get it done. Now.” He hung up, residing back to his usual work.

Only a minute later his office phone was ringing. “Hello?” He answered, partially annoyed considering this has now disrupted his response to a passive aggressive email sent by a nobody at a partnering company.

“Mr. Rogers, they said it wouldn’t be ready for 45-” “Did I say 45 minutes?” He interrupted, aggravation filling his voice.

“No I just-”

“I don’t have 45 minutes. You’re now down to 28 minutes before the food should be placed on my fucking desk and ready to go.” “Mr. Rogers there’s nothing I can do-” “Maybe you can be assertive next time, Jackie, or you’ll be out of a job in a second. Figure it out.” He slammed the phone back on the desk with a loud bang, grunting and rubbing his hand over his face. Leaning back he reflected on your words. “Yet”. If you were the one in charge of that, the food would have been on his desk in 20 minutes, not ready in 45.

It didn’t only annoy him that clearly his associates had no ability to think outside of the little boxes they had placed themselves in, but he was talking about you. Although no one at the office, or in the company, knew you two were dating, anyone who got in the way of you would be fired in a hot second. In a moment he could have them standing outside his skyscraper, box in hands sobbing if they even attempted to bother you. You were not only the most precious asset to his company, you were the most precious thing in his life.

He continued his work, not worry too much about how everything was going outside of his office. If anyone fucked up, he would fire them. Easy as that. Once again, his gratitude for you grew greater and greater as he got a text from you.

Please don’t say you’re going to hard on people. I know you’re kind of an ass of a boss, but at least go a little easy on them today. Xo, Y/N

He couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Damn right he was an ass of a boss, and he prided himself on it. As he began responding, Jackie rushed in, looking both winded and scared. “Here you are, Mr. Rogers.” She placed the three bags full of food on his desk.

“You’re three minutes late.” He sat up, looking over the bags, “If I wasn’t in a good mood you would be fired. I’ll let you off on this one.” He sighed, she stood there and took a deep sigh.

“T-thank you, Mr. Rogers.” She nervously walked out.

Trying not to, babe :). Try to be nice to yourself, too, you deserve it. Xo, Steve

He responded, smiling as he sent it, counting down the minutes to be home with you, cooing you and comforting you. He wanted nothing more than to just sit with you all day and watch TV shows, hearing your snarky and stupid commentary. He loved every moment of it.

He removed his mind from his favorite topic, you, and decided to try and focus on some work, as a distraction from the fact he couldn’t be right there with you. Scrolling through stupid emails and paperwork only made his need to be with you all that much worst, his watch not moving fast enough for his liking. With a frustrated sigh he took matters into his own hands.

Stuffing his work in his workbag, he grabbed his phone, getting up and storming out of his office with the take out bags. Everyone looked up at him, confusion and worry ridden all over their faces. He never left early, let alone an hour early.

“Um, Mr. Rogers,” One of his associates perked up, trailing behind him a bit.

“What.” He snapped, not changing his gaze from straight ahead.

“You have that meeting in an hour with Mr. Wilson, where are you going-” Steve stopped in his tracks, turning around to face the boy behind him with a grimace look. “Where I am going is none of your business. And reschedule the meeting with him, he’ll understanding.” And just like that, the man took off again, leaving out the doors and to his car. Slamming his door, he messily started the ignition, holding the leather steering wheel to his Audi, knuckles turning white with annoyance.

His face was blank as he sped through New York traffic, aggressively beeping at all the idiots in his way. He knew you would be scolding the shit out of him right now if you were in the passenger seat, letting him know that you thought he should go back to driving school. He would just lightly smile at your spunk, loving it ever so much.

Speeding into your parking garage underground, he managed to finally find a spot, cursing himself out numerous times for not being there earlier to save one of these now filled spaces. He grabbed his keys and bags with speed, clumsily hanging onto everything, only determined to get to you.

He made his way up the elevator from the parking garage to floor 34, where you were. The elevator was far too slow, in his opinion. He had been meaning to get you a new apartment recently, not that your apartment wasn’t safe or anything. It just wasn’t nice or good enough for you, in his opinion. Granted, nothing in this world would be good enough for you in his eyes. You deserved every damn thing.

He walked out of the elevator, perseverance painted across his face. Finally, he made it to the far end of the carpeted hallway, grabbing your key off of his key ring and placed it in, taking a sigh when it opened. “Baby?” He called, his entire mood changing in a second at the smell and sight of your home. When there was no response, he quietly shut the door, locking it, placing the bags of food on the counter.

Taking his work shoes off along with his jacket and tie, he crept into your room. There you were, an angel from the heavens in his sight, scrunched up in your own warmth under your large comforter, your favorite blanket sprawled out over you. He smiled to himself, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and removing his cuffs.

Climbing into bed next to you as easily as he could, in hopes he wouldn’t stir you, he placed his large arm over your body, shorter than his, and moved himself closer to you, providing warmth. You moved a bit with a light groan, “Stevie?” You asked, still half asleep, but moving over and closer to his warmth so now you were now the little spoon.

“Hey, baby doll.” He whispered with a smile, kissing the top of you head. “Go back to sleep, m’kay? You need rest.” You shook your head with a yawn, opening your eyes to see the man you loved, a smile growing across your face.

“You woke me up.” You slightly laughed.

“’M sorry.” He smiled back, taking your messy, natural, unbrushed hair in his fingers and brushing out some of the small tangles.

“It’s okay.” You moved even closer to him so every inch of your side was touching his warmth.

“Have you eaten anything today?” He asked next, with a sweet, calming voice. You shook your head into his shoulder, “Okay,” He muttered, “I brought you some food.” “Stevie I’m not that hungry-”

“I got you chicken tenders.” He countered. You sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” You replied, rolling over just a bit to let him go get it. He got the memo, getting up and quickly retrieving the take out boxes.

“Here ya go, babe.” He smiled, helping you sit up, and giving the box to you.

You graciously accepted the food, opening it and taking a bite, sighing with a smile. “Best boyfriend ever.” You smiled, taking another bite and leaning your head on his shoulder. “So,” You began, “How was the office today?” He scoffed, “A nightmare.” You chuckled.

“Of course it was.”

“I had four people playing my assistants today, and not a single one could send an email to Stark or Barnes, my two most prominent allies in this business. It’s ridiculous-” “Steve,” You interrupted, “I already sent those emails today.” “For real?” He turned to you, his face turning serious, “You have a fever of 102, can barely move, and you sent two emails?” “And faxed over some paper work, and scheduled a few of your meetings for next month, and got your next travel itinerary set.” You responded.

“Jeez,” He sighed, at a complete lose for words, “You are one of a kind, you know that? Literally the most incredible person at that company, or most companies for that matter.” You lightly smiled.

“No need to flatter me, I was doing my job.” You blew it off.

“Your job today was to rest and relax.” “Steven,” You looked up at him, “You’re forgetting who I am. I’m not relaxing until my work is done,” You continued, “Now that it is, I say we watch some TV for the rest of the night. Game of Thrones or Westworld?” You asked next. He just looked at you confused, “Westworld it is.” You replied, grabbing your remote on your bedside. “Now c’mon, you need to relax too. I can feel how tense you are from here.”

“Fine.” He replied, reluctantly loosening his shoulders a bit.

“There you go babe,” You smiled, sniffling a bit due to your current condition right after, “Just relax a little. We’re not at work, no stupid people.” He lightly laughed. Using his hand, he took your chin and moved your head to look at his face.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world, you know that?” You smiled and maneuvered your head to his shoulder again.

“Not nearly as lucky as I am to have you, Mr. Rogers.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #ceo!steve rogers #ceo!steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x chubby!reader #ceo!steve rogers x chubby!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #ceo!steve rogers x y/n #ceo!steve rogers x you

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years ago

Text

vinyl searching (pt. 2) x graham coxon

here’s the second part, hope you guys like it! there’s something about 1999 graham that i just love so much, and i know he was struggling during this time so i wanted to write about caring for him because he clearly needed it during this time.

Pairing: 1999! graham coxon x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 3.166

part one

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Me and Graham decided on meeting in a small bar on the same road, a couple hours later in the evening. Once my shift was over, I had scurred off to my little flat in order to put together an outfit that was appropriate. I didn’t want to wear something that was too overtly sexual - hell, I wouldn’t even have the courage to be able to wear something like that - so I decided upon wearing an oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans. Very 90s. However, me meeting up with Graham was probably going to be more for him than it was for me - although I was so happy that me and him finally were able to take our ‘friendship’ somewhere outside of the small record shop that he sees all my life in, it was very evident that he was in need of someone to be there for him. Now, understanding his demeanor and overall attitude to things from the multiple times that we had conversated, I had hoped to be the one that he needed. Although there was many time I could’ve attempted such a gathering previously, you never know when would be the right moment to chip in and attempt to portray the care that you have stored internally for that significant person, and how they would react to that. For Graham it was a much more awkward situation; the only times of our communication were technically only professional, from a worker providing help and service to a customer. That was how esoteric we were to one another - practically known strangers. If I had come across Graham in a supermarket and he had noticed me, chances are that we wouldn’t interact, the only communication we would be able to branch out to one another being a simple ‘Oh hi! You alright?’. You had to build a sort of relationship with someone over a period of time in order to be able to do something like I did, and that is minusing the amount of nerves you'd have, as well as the courage you’d have to give yourself.

After I had finished with my constant worrying about how this meet-up was going to turn out, I left the house to go to the bar. The walk there felt as if I had been repeating the same events that had occurred during the day, just at a different moment in time. Hardly anybody was in the streets, which was quite ordinary at this hour of day, though it always seemed as if nobody left their homes. As I walked past countless convenience stores, hairdressers and fast-food places, which proved to show there was residency above them from the brick wall built on top, contrasted against windows placed as an outlook to life, very ironically used as to convey that nobody was ever leaving their homes, it proved to me just how mundane and repetitive life had become. The distance apart between each sheet of glass to the one adjacent to it being monochrome. Constant. Unchanging. Almost how all of our lives have been built to follow a system of continuous, resolute living, perpetually ignoring how it forces our lives, that have so much undermined potential, to be wasted, to the point we are simply dependent on enjoying life as we admire it. From a window in our bedroom, to which it becomes boring - as all you are ‘admiring’ is the same sight, every single time. And though this way of living may not be satisfactory, or enjoyable in the slightest, protesting against it would not do anything. Strikes from work would not do anything; you still need to live, and to live you need to earn money, money earned from working. It’s a ceaseless cycle which destroys the mere idea of a dream, aspiration, or motivation to carry on. In turn, what is received is the attractiveness of sadness, distress, and melancholy. You cannot shame those for being addicted to something harmful; if there is no point created for their lives except to be a little pawn on the chessboard of this planet, to take a risk and rebel against it is all you can do - though it would only put you in a situation which can cause more harm than good to yourself.

Once I had arrived at the bar, I decided to wait by the entrance so there would not cause confusion for Graham as to whether I was inside the building or not. I had noticed the skies begin to significantly darken in their calming shades of blue, instigating the advent of the evening to commence, however it was not dark enough to see sparkles in the empyrean yet. Though it was beautiful to stare at the single-coloured canvas, questioning the mere idea as to how it had formed such a shade of peace, but also existentially questioning how things come to be. Nevertheless, my admiration for the skies was quickly interrupted. “Hi y/n.”

Shifting my head into alignment with his, I had been greeted by the sight of Graham, facial expression clearly evident of nervousness, though it was attempted to be masked from a small smile curving on the corner of his lip. I noticed he was still in the same clothing as he had been in our previous encounter at the record shop earlier in the day, which caused a grin to paint itself on my facial expression. “Hi Graham,” I chriped, connecting eyes with him for a second, widening my smile that was already plastered on my face. “Let’s go inside.”

Inside the bar was nothing much I hadn’t expected; smoke surrounding the atmosphere from cigarettes, and due to the time being early, the place wasn’t as crowded, but you’d assume it to be from the clouds of smoke that welcomed you once you pushed the door open - you could hardly see the lengthy oak wood table separating you from the myriad amount of drinks that could be supplied to you by a simple asking. Ushering over to the nearest booth available, me and Graham sat opposite each other. The booths were always much more comfortable to sit and relax in, the cushioning of the sofa was almost that of a pillow; it was so cozy it was hard not to fall asleep on them. It was a much better choice of seating rather than the tall timber stools attached to the bar. I never found it appealing to sit there and have a chat with someone; it felt as if my privacy had been snatched away with ears surrounding every place my eyes could land upon. It's a much more peaceful atmosphere in a booth, which I had assumed would be a preferable place for Graham, shown from his quiet demeanour. His quietness was something that engaged me so deeply into him as a person - he wasn’t the type to rush to the bar, get drunk, and go off with the first person he had seen, who he hadn’t properly connected with or perhaps spoken to at all. He was much more down to earth, potentially from the amount of fame he had gained over the past couple years; it makes those yearn for silence, and in turn changes their perspectives and outlooks on simple things like outings with friends, for some may avoid them at all costs out of anxiety and fear of being noticed. You’d think that’s the absolute of their desires, being famous, stealing the hearts of so many, but it becomes so much more than that. The press picking out every ‘flaw’ you have or things that you do, the crowds of youngsters dying to get an autograph as if their lives depend on it, the paparazzi perpetually flicking their cameras only because you trotted on the same street to go to the same shop that every normal person goes to… The amount of eyes constantly on you gets overwhelming. I empathised with those who turned to drugs and alcohol to escape horrible feelings like these. Just like Graham.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” I asked Graham sweetly, my smile still on my face.

“Yeah sure, I’ll have a beer.” He responded, our eyes glued to one another's which made me notice the eyebags that had drooped onto the top of his cheeks; it was very evident that he had attempted to nap before meeting me, which made my heart swell out of pity for him - it was obvious he was struggling to even sleep these days.

I nodded before heading to the bar and ordering our drinks. Waiting for our drinks at the bar gave me time to think over everything that was currently happening. It felt as if my entire day had vanished to this one moment where I had unexpectedly landed myself ordering beverages at a bar with the one and only Graham Coxon. It was a wonder to think about how he was feeling at this current moment. He didn't seem as if he was doing well at the moment, he always seemed so exhausted, and his social skills had become very poor over a couple of weeks. It went from him being very calm and candid in our short encounters, slyly recommending each other music with subtle hints of our liking toward each other, to him forming a much more apparent stutter in comparison to the one he already had, as well as being unable to connect eyes with me for a interminable period of time - it was evident that things were progressively getting worse for him, though I wasn’t going to force him into speaking about anything. I just wanted him to be aware that he had at least a friend there for him, potentially that being the girl that he would always see at his local record store.

Walking over back to the booth, I handed him his pint of beer. “Thank you,” he mustered, almost instantly taking a sip from it before noticing the drink I had bought for myself. “Orange juice?”

I laughed slightly at his shocked reaction as I lit myself a cigarette and took a hit from it, him definitely not expecting that of all drinks. “I don’t really like to drink, it never makes me feel that good.”

“But you smoke?” He questioned, a confused expression plastered on his face, paired with a grin.

“Smoking helps with stress, alcohol makes you drunk and gives you hangovers which simply ruin your day,” I answered back, taking a sip from my drink. “Also orange juice is literally the best juice, alcohol tastes like shit you know.”

A small chuckle escaped out of Graham’s throat, causing my eyes to land back onto him again. I gained the perception that he felt somewhat better about actually speaking with someone, which made me feel so touched and taken aback; I had genuinely felt my heart skip a beat out of sadness and yearning for him. He genuinely deserved better than what was going on with him mentally and physically, and the fact that he couldn’t even celebrate the release of his band’s 6th album was paining - he couldn’t attend a lot of the sessions, not out of detest towards any of his band members, but because he mentally couldn’t bring himself to. He was isolating himself without realising, or he may have realised, but couldn’t do anything to stop it. “I must agree on that… But orange juice is too sweet,” He replied, scoffing. “It’s definitely not that much better than a pint of beer, love.”

Shaking my head out of offense towards his last remark, I inhaled my cigarette once again before exposing the smoke from my lungs. Diverting my stare to the ashtray in the middle of the booth, I examined the built-up ash on the tip from the roll of tobacco crumble off from a single flick of the wrapped up paper. “Anyways, how are you?” I asked him, simultaneously offering him a cigarette whilst doing so to avoid any awkwardness.

After taking a cigarette from the packet I owned, then lighting it, he answered. “I’m alright. What about you?”

“Apart from being offended by you saying orange juice is gross, I’m alright too,” I joked, earning another laugh from Graham. “You seem tired.”

Sighing slightly, I watched him scan the room before answering. “Yeah, I am. What gave that away?”

“Your eye bags, you look like you haven’t slept,” I responded, hoping that what was leaving my mouth wouldn’t come across as offensive in any way. “Not in a rude way, though.”

“In all honesty, I haven’t really been able to sleep recently. Not a clue why.” He replied, taking a hit from his cigarette before copying my actions from earlier and erasing the gathered dust onto the ashtray.

“Oh, I understand that,” I said, taking a long drag of the cancer stick before replying. “Same thing happens to me when I’m stressed.”

As the night went on, we spoke about all sorts of things, trying to get to know one another much more as we were so intrigued by each other’s presence. Over time, he opened up much more, his poise changing from being a quiet, dismal, bereaved person, isolated from society, to one that seemed as if he was enjoying himself by hanging out with a friend. Seeing a beam constantly illustrated on his face made me realise this outing meant more than just ‘meeting a friend’. It was leaving the house for the first time in ages, to simply have a good time with someone. He was gentrifying the bare human emotions that he had forgotten were calloused out of anger inside himself. The atmosphere is much different when we’re separated by the till in the record store, the only conversations we could tend to have surrounding music or the weather that day. I felt so much more connected to Graham in this given moment, and knowing that he was gaining pleasure from this made me feel so much happier. Finally, he seemed content, relaxed, and much more aware of his surroundings, not caught up entirely by his mind and the evilness that he would be manipulated by. It was as if from this simple meet-up, he had realised that there was so much more to life than staying at home, pent up with his own thoughts; to his dismay. And though it can be extremely difficult to overcome the hurdles of not believing everything your brain implements to your mind, the important part was that he was making progress. By merely speaking with another person, about topics completely contrasting the negativity resident in his brain, it takes his mind off of things, and would allow the realisation that he is able to overcome these struggles, with the right support.

We hadn’t realised just how long we had been conversing for, until the room began pouring with young adults ready to enjoy a night with their friends. A quick glance at the clock gave the hour away; it was nearing midnight. The time was hardly wasted, we had both created a friendship and connection with one another which bloomed like roses during the spring seasons. Absolutely beautiful. I knew that what we had formed with each other would last for at least a significant amount of time, and I definitely hoped that it would. “Let’s get going, it’s getting a bit crowded right now.” I said, getting up from my seat - Graham nodding along and following me out.

There was a distinctive change in temperature inside the bar in comparison to the streets. The breeze was more prominent, with the skies now pitch black accompanied with the twinkle of the stars and the picturesque glow of the moon. We both began walking to the end of the street, having no idea what was about to occur, going along with it as if there was nothing else in the world except us two, as if it was just ours, and that nothing else mattered at all. This shared moment between us was the only thing able to plague our minds, for everything else that crossed our minds seemed to be insignificant, with no importance to our lives from here on, no matter how much it had afflicted our minds from apprehension hours prior to this moment. Oh, the vulnerable silence shared between us. How much importance it held towards aiding our minds, providing a certain mental clarity that was simply unheard of, as if a certain point of synchronicity in time was exposed between us, forming it as though, as banal as life is day-to-day was always, there was euphoria. Subconsciously, we were both communicating with each other in a sort of telepathy that was so rare in newly flourished relationships like ours. It was as if I had always been close with Graham, as if he was always a cogent figure in my life, that today was only just another catch-up session after not being able to talk with one another for a significant period of time. We both enjoyed ourselves, and there was no need to say anything about it. It felt as though if one of us spoke, it would erase all the memories of the occasion shared in the bar previously. Nothing could explain the elation my body was feeling at this time; from life seeming so meaningless and dull, experiencing something like this amount of joy came as such a shock to my body - it felt as if I had been drugged with so much alcohol that I was witnessing junctures that were only fragments of my imagination.

Stopping our slow pace at the end of the road, I turned my body to face Graham’s, him copying the same actions as me. Briefly, I stared lovingly into his eyes, a smile perched on my lips, him reciprocating with a beam, purely out of content, not mannerisms. Turning my head to stare at his hands, which awkwardly embraced one another, I mustered enough courage to form an embrace with both my palms - him slightly taken aback at first, to which he quickly went along with the moment. His hands were soft, delicate, and held warmth interlocked with mine. We simply stood there, hands laced together, inhaling the brisk air whilst slow waves of air gushed between us. Nothing could get more perfect than this. It was evident that between us, it was definitely more than a simple friendship, and it was obvious that both participants were not objecting against such passion to be compromised into something more. The action of holding his hand gave the notion that he was not alone in everything that he was undergoing; it was there for reassurance, as if it was me indirectly saying, I know you’re struggling, you don’t have to tell me, and I can tell you seem lonely, but I’m here for you. And I won’t ever leave, or let go.

“See you soon, Graham.”

#graham coxon x reader #blur band #britpop #nineties #imagines #my writing #fluff #graham coxon #blur #fanfic #band imagines #90s

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

With you, he wants it all.

Part 2!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1! Also, I totally meant to post this earlier but Taylor Swift’s new album wrecked my plans.

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her.

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker

Word Count: 9972

The next time you wake up, the room is significantly brighter. You feel around in the cold bed, realizing Spencer isn’t there anymore. You have to force yourself to open your eyes to combat the overwhelming urge to roll over and sleep for another twelve hours. The clock reads 12:07. You can’t help but think you deserve more sleep as you force yourself into a sitting position. Once you finally sit up, you hear someone shuffling around, whispering in the other room. It’s too quiet to try to make out the voice, but you definitely heard something. Without too much thought, you quickly jump out of bed, grabbing the only thing you can find that even remotely resembles a weapon- the bible from the hotel drawer.

Slowly, you push the door open, getting ready to make a break for the door to the hallway at the first sign of danger. Remembering everything from yesterday has you on edge as you move toward the kitchen area, looking for anything out of place. You duck around the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room only to find it empty. As you finally let your guard down, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Without thinking, you turn around getting ready to slam the book into whoever is touching you.

Spencer catches your arms before you hit him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, dropping the book and hugging Spencer.

“I’m sorry! I just heard a noise and you weren’t in bed anymore and I wasn’t sure where you went and I wanted to make sure nobody else was in the room, but I-“

“It’s okay. Just breathe.” Spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cling to him as if your life depends on it. A few minutes pass, before you calm down enough to pull out of the hug. You run a shaky hand through your hair, moving to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

“I put the coffee on so you can grab some when it’s done. I’m going to get dressed so we can figure out where we want to go for inspiration today!” You wink at Spencer before heading back into the bedroom to shower and change. You throw on a pair of jeans and a light sweater after squeezing the extra water out of your hair. You like to let it dry naturally on days like this.

You make your way back into the kitchen only to find Spencer has already changed into a navy and white plaid button down, khakis, and a navy cardigan. He is sitting at the table drinking his coffee when you enter the room. You immediately put the kettle on, reaching into the cabinet to pull out your tea collection.

“No coffee for you?” Spencer asks, gesturing to the half full pot on the counter.

“Oh, nope. Not for me. It’s only palatable if I add way to much sugar and then I get all antsy. I only have coffee if I have a really good reason to stay up.” You chuckle as you add the teabag to the mug you set on the counter. You sit on the counter, swinging your legs as you sip your tea.

“So, where do you want to go?”

“For what?” Spencer pretends to not know what you’re talking about.

“It’s time to start writing silly!” You grin at his deer in a headlights expression. “Spencer, I told you not to worry. We are just looking for general ideas right now. Anything that could potentially lead to a song. It’s more fun to observe others during this part of the process because the ideas are less specific.”

“I don’t even know where to start!” He actually seems nervous about this.

“Spence, let’s just go to your favorite coffee shop. And don’t tell me that you don’t have one. You’ve already drunk half that pot of coffee.”

“Why my favorite?” He actually looks taken aback at the suggestion.

“Well, for one because I’m not from here, so I don’t know where to go.” You try to backpedal, but you’ve started a list. Something he is all too eager to point out. “And two?” He’s got his brows furrowed, a look of pure confusion adorning his face.

“If it’s your favorite, then you’ve been there before.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well yes, but your point?” The confusion is still present, but his words are laced with exasperation.

“You might just be comfortable enough in your surroundings to suggest a song idea.” You shrug as you say it, trying to make it feel more casual.

“You considered whether or not I would be comfortable?” He seems genuinely surprised now.

“Of course. I want you to help me, so I gotta butter you up.” You try to cover up your blush with a joke.

“Thank you.” HIs words seem surprised, but the two of you move on. Spencer grabs his satchel, and you your jacket, as the two of you exit the hotel to head to the café. You opt for walking since the weather is not too hot. You don’t say much during the walk. After the moment in the kitchen, you feel a bit nervous. A few fans stop you along the way for a picture or an autograph, but mostly you just enjoy each other’s company. Nobody pays much attention to Spencer, rather opting to ignore him to get your attention. Every time someone comes up to you; you make a point to say excuse me or smile at him before addressing the fans though. You just don’t want him to feel left out or like he’s not important.

You finally make it to the café. Spencer opens the door before guiding you in, again placing his hand on your back. You thank him as you make your way up to the counter to order. You order a chai latte for yourself, gesturing for Spencer to order his when the barista asks you if you need anything else. You make sure to add two scones to the order before sliding your card into the machine before Spencer has a chance.

“It’s my fault you’re here with me, so please. My treat.” He shakes his head slightly, a small smile forming on his face.

“How many times do I have to tell you, none of this is your fault?” He gives you a look as you two move to find a table after accepting the scones.

“I know.” You don’t sound sure as you take your seat. He doubles down the staring as you continue. “I promise. I know. It was just a joke.” You sound more sure of yourself that time, earning another smile from Spencer.

The barista brings you your drinks as you settle into the corner booth. You set your phone up on the table, pulling up the recording from yesterday. You pass Spencer your headphones from your purse so he can listen to what you’ve already come up with.

You take this time to really study him. The sun’s rays are streaming in through the blinds on the window, causing slight shadows to drift across his features. You take in the sharp lines of his jaw as he turns to look around the café, listening to the various melodies and lyrics you sang for the team. His brown locks appear golden as the sunlight reflect off the highlights. He’s sporting a slight stubble from not shaving for a few days. His hazel eyes drift across the faces of everyone in the room, not settling for long on any one person.

You shift your attention to his hands. He has one draped across the table, lightly tapping along as he listens. His long fingers are mesmerizing. You begin to recognize he is tapping out the melodies as if he were playing the piano. The other hand is wrapped around his coffee cup. You bite your lip as you think about all the things those hands are capable of. Your mind wonders as you stare. You are staring so intently at the way his hand grips the cup, you don’t notice when he removes the headphones.

Spencer clears his throat to catch your attention. “That was incredible. How do you come up with ideas so fast?” He looks like he knows exactly what you were thinking, but is too kind to bring it up. He’s just doing his job, and this isn’t a date.

“Oh, um thanks. I guess the BAU is just full of inspiration. The song writing process is a little different every time, but sometimes I can think of random lyrics and melodies.” You try to smile as you force yourself to focus. “Think back to a time where you felt an emotion really strongly. It can be whatever emotion you want. Then, try to put it into words. I like to use common phrases or metaphors because it can be fun to twist it into something new.” You close your eyes as you think back to how you felt the moment you understood there was a man out there killing people because he is obsessed with you. Maybe it’s a little too soon to write that one out. The idea does give you another way to explain it to Spencer. “It’s kind of like therapy. You can talk out your feelings and share them with people. It’s just a bit more public.” Spencer looks like he’s contemplating his entire life as you sit in this coffee shop.

“Spence,” you say it lightly to draw him out of his own thoughts, “don’t worry about it. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. Why don’t we try something else?” He looks grateful as he nods. “Great. Pick out someone in the coffee shop, preferably part of a group.” He looks around before his eyes settle on someone.

“Okay, now tell me what they’re thinking about.” He looks confused, like a lost puppy. “It’s called people watching. Just make up a story about what they might be doing here.”

You and Spencer discuss ideas for the next few hours. He picked out a young man, maybe about 19 years old. He was clearly here with friends trying to catch a break from studying if the backpacks on the floor were any hint. Spencer noticed all of that immediately of course, being that he is a profiler.

His story sounded just like the profile Hotch told you yesterday, although much less horrifying.

“White male, late teens to early twenties. He is likely a STEM major. This is the first time he has let loose in a while, normally choosing to forego the party life for studying. He likely has immense pressure on him from his family to succeed and do well in school.” You nod along, not having any idea where this information is really coming from. He sounds so confident, you can’t help but ask how he knows all that.

“You’re incredible. How did you figure all that out?” You stare in wonder at the man across from you. He doesn’t meet your eye, but responds nonetheless.

“His age is fairly obvious to observe. His bag is fuller than the others, indicating a major that requires more coursework. He keeps checking his watch, almost as if he knows he is wasting time that could be spent working toward a goal. The family pressure can be inferred by the other behavior. It is more likely a young adult is studious due to a strict upbringing with a focus on work ethic and goal-driven activities.”

“Amazing.” You sigh as you look around the room. “My turn.” You point to a couple sitting a few tables away from you. “Those two are exploring the possibility of taking their relationship past that of friendship. They obviously like each other and are too nervous to say anything.” Almost as if to prove you aren’t a profiler, the two lean across the table for a kiss. You laugh it off, knowing it’s just a game for you.

“Or maybe not. Either way, their song would be about new love. Something slow and pretty.” You smile as you turn back to Spencer. “Your turn again!”

The two of you go back and forth a few times. His stories were really just profiles, but after a few tries he leaned into the fun, game-like nature of people watching. Of course, his last story didn’t stray too far from profiling, but it was much more dreamlike in the way he presented it.

“The woman sitting by the window,” he said, subtly pointing to an older woman at a table alone, “she’s waiting to see her grandkids for the first time in years. Of course, she’s excited to see them again, but she’s nervous. What if they don’t like her? What if she can’t patch things up with her… I’m guessing daughter?” You smile brightly at the story. Family moments were usually the most inspiring for generic song ideas.

“Good job, Spence! What would the song be about?” The question clearly caught him off guard. For the past few stories, you asked how he came to those conclusions. It was so fascinating to hear how his mind works. This time though, you thought he could really be on to something. You give him an encouraging nod, as you set your phone up to record again.

“It could be about- about family.” He states it so firmly; you know he wants to say more. “She is sitting there thinking about the memories she has with her own parents and grandparents, so the song could be a reflection on days spent enjoying their company. Maybe future memories they can make together.” He smiles, albeit shyly.

“That is a really good idea! It fits with the vibe of the lyrics I came up with for Rossi.” You see the moment it clicks in his head. I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.

He actually seems pleased with himself now. “We could work on that one tomorrow. We should get up and walk around though, we’ve been sitting here for hours.” You reach for his hand as you scoot out of the booth, pulling him along with you.

You stuff your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker as you head outside. You feel an overwhelming desire to be close to him, but you don’t want to overstep. The early evening crowd is out and about, bumping into the two of you as you walk back to the hotel at a leisurely pace.

“Why don’t we go order some room service and just hang out for the rest of the night? All that people watching was exhausting.” You turn to grin up at him as you continue walking. He hums in response, looking down at you in return. You swear you can feel the mood shifting, but the moment is broken by a tap on your arm. You turn to examine the source of the interruption only to find a little girl who couldn’t be more than 10 years old.

“Hi there!” You squeeze Spencer’s arm before ducking down to talk to the little girl. “Are you parents here?” She nods turning to look at a couple a few feet behind her, slightly out of breath, as if they just chased her down the street.

“Carly! Honey, you can’t run off like that! You could have gotten hurt!” The man scolds her, but is clearly relieved she didn’t get away from them.

“Sorry daddy! I just wanted to say hi to Miss Y/N! She sings my favorite song ever!” You wave at the parents before turning your attention back to the little girl.

“Hi Carly, it’s nice to meet you! You really do need to be careful though. You should always stick with the adults so you don’t get lost.” Your voice is playful, but your expression is serious. The only way to truly convey that message to a child you have no parental claim to. She nods in response.

“Mommy! Take a picture!” You pose with the girl as her mom takes a picture.

“We’re so sorry for interrupting your date! She just saw you and took off down the sidewalk.” You blush at what the woman is implying about you and Spencer, not daring to look at him.

“No worries at all. I’m always happy to meet a fan. Have a good night!” You wave goodbye, linking your arm with Spencer’s as you start to walk. He gives you a curious look, but you just laugh before joking “What? It’s so I don’t get lost.” He chuckles at your childlike behavior, but shifts so you can hold him closer.

The rest of the walk is peaceful. You don’t see any more fans, which is good because you aren’t paying enough attention to anything at the moment. You keep picturing the look on Spencer’s face right before the little girl interrupted you. What was about to happen?

Before you know it, you and Spencer are back in the room. He steps into the kitchen to call Hotch while you call to order dinner. You change into the FBI sweatshirt from yesterday and a pair of sleep shorts before settling on the couch to wait for Spencer. A few minutes later, he joins you on the couch after he hangs up. “The team has ruled out all the performers. It’s not surprising as the unsub wouldn’t be brave enough to perform for a crowd. They are still working through the lists of vendors and crew members.”

“Good. That’s progress. Progress is good.” You nod to yourself, trying to convince yourself everything is normal.

“Talk to me, what’s going on inside your head?” Spencer reaches out to take your hand while you stare at the ground.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just hard. It’s hard to have such an amazing day and then think about how it only happened because people are being killed. I guess I feel guilty.” You keep going before he can interrupt you. “I know it’s not my fault that this guy is out there doing horrible things, but I still feel bad for enjoying myself while it’s happening.” You don’t have any tears left to cry. You look over to Spencer to find him staring back at you.

“Y/N, you are such a selfless person. There isn’t anything else you can do right now. We haven’t had any more victims, likely because nobody has posted about how excited they are for your shows since we still have 13 days before the next one. We are going to catch this guy.” You form your mouth into a soft smile before nodding at him. “What movie do you want to watch?”

You smile at his attempt to distract you. “You pick. Anything that will take my mind off things, but not require too much thinking.”

Spencer is racking his brain for a movie that fits your description when you hear a knock on the door. “Must be the food, I’ll get it.” When you return with the food, you find Spencer still thinking over movie choices.

“Okay, how about this. What do you like to watch when you really need a pick me up?”

Again he looks surprised that you would take his opinion into account. “Um, usually Doctor Who, but that’s not a movie it’s a-”

“TV show. Right. Is that the one where they fly around in a telephone booth?”

“First of all, it's a police box, not a phone booth. Second of all, Doctor Who started a quarter of century before Bill and Ted even went on their bodacious adventures. So really, they should just call it Bill and Ted's excellent rip-off, I mean at least then...”

You listen as he rambles about why people always think it’s a telephone booth. You can’t help but smile at how cute he is when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. You don’t realize he asked you a question until he clears his throat with a confused expression.

“Sorry, I was rambling again.” He looks dejected, and you would do anything in the world to make him smile again.

“No, I’m sorry!” You scoot closer to him to convey your point. “I was listening at first I promise. It’s just, you looked so happy I got distracted. Let’s watch Doctor Who.” You turn to face the TV before you say anything else that makes you feel like a complete moron. He sorts through the food as you find the show online, setting it up to play on the TV. There’s random free episodes on demand, so you end up staring with the 11th doctor.

You are completely captivated by the show. Every so often, Spencer would comment on a theory about what one specific prop could mean only to have you cover your ears and warn him about spoilers. During an episode about creepy angel statues, he goes on a tangent about how Amy could have avoided the whole situation. Once he starts mentioning characters you haven’t met, you actually have to reach your hand up to cover his mouth to get him to stop talking. His words putter to a stop, eyes widening in shock as he stares at you.

“Spence, I absolutely love how passionate you are about Doctor Who. But it doesn’t matter how adorable it is when you ramble on about something. If you spoil one more thing before I can actually watch the whole show through, I will not hesitate to smack you.” You stare right in his eyes the entire time, watching as they widen with each word. You had to get a lot closer to him to actually reach his mouth. He had moved forward, animatedly waving his arms around as he talked about various plot points, so you were basically sitting on his lap to avoid being smacked in the face.

You drop your arm from his face slowly, as if any sudden movement would break the spell you were under. You lean forward, connecting your forehead to his. You take a steadying breath as you close your eyes. Your about to close the gap when his phone rings. Again, the moment is lost. You only move enough so that he can reach into his pocket for his phone. As he answers the call, you shift in his lap to cuddle into his chest.

“Morgan, what do you need?” Maybe you’re imaging it, but he almost sounds the slightest bit annoyed. You can just make out what Morgan is saying on the other end of the phone.

“Calm down, Pretty Boy. We might have a lead, Hotch and Emily are tracking it down now. I’ll meet you at the hotel in the morning to go over it all with you and Y/N.”

“Okay, thanks for the update.” He sounds so normal now, you think you must have imagined the annoyance earlier. He hangs up the phone, tossing it next to him on the couch. He wraps his arms around you before shifting so you’re both laying down.

“Let’s just relax and watch more Doctor Who. Morgan is stopping by in the morning to talk about the case.” You nod in agreement, turning to face the TV. A few episodes later, you and Spencer are drifting in and out of sleep. Neither one of you really wants to interrupt what you’ve got going, instead opting to just fall asleep on the couch.

You hear the faintest knocking noise that pulls you out of your slumber. It takes a few minutes for you to recognize you are on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. He must have pulled a blanket over the two of you last night after you fell asleep. Before you can get up to evaluate the knocking, the door opens and Morgan comes rushing in. The concern on his face is quickly replaced with a knowing smirk. You blush, jealous that Spencer is somehow still asleep.

“Hi Morgan. Sorry to alarm you. We must have fallen asleep watching TV last night.” At the sound of your voice, Spencer slowly begins to wake up. He smiles sleepily at you before realizing your attention is elsewhere. He practically throws you off the couch in his effort to sit up when he realizes Morgan is in the room.

“Sorry!” Spencer looks at Morgan, then back to you. “I’m so sorry!” You laugh as you stand up.

“Don’t worry about it.” You settle yourself in the chair, gesturing for Morgan to sit next to Spencer now that he isn’t sprawled across the entire sofa anymore. Turning to Morgan, you ask about the case “What did you want to talk about?”

“We have been focused on going through the people who work for the tour. It makes the most sense for them to travel with you, otherwise it would require a lot more planning.” You can feel the nerves growing in your stomach. “Garcia found a name we wanted to run by you.” He hands you a picture before saying the name. “Ryan Moore. He works-“

“On the instrumentals. I know. He usually runs the sound booth during the shows. I don’t know him that well, but we’ve talked a few times.” You think back over your past conversations. “It couldn’t be him.” You are 100% sure he is not the unsub, and the agents don’t fail to notice the conviction in your voice.

“What makes you so sure?” Spencer is flipping through the case file Morgan brought with him. He doesn’t even look up when he asks the question, too focused on memorizing every detail about this man’s life.

“Well, Hotch told me the unsub wouldn’t be able to talk to me right?” You look to Morgan for confirmation.

“Yes. He wouldn’t approach you or seem confident when talking with you if you approached him.” Morgan confirms what you’re thinking.

“Great. So it can’t be him.” You smile to yourself for actually contributing to the case. “Last week, right after the Columbus show, he asked me out. The unsub wouldn’t be brave enough, right?” The utter joy in your voice startles Spencer enough that he finally looks up from the file.

“Alright then. He’s likely not the unsub, but we’ll finish the investigation into him just in case.” Morgan settles back into the chair he’s sitting in, making no move to leave even though the conversation is clearly over. There is an obvious smirk on his face as he looks at Spencer.

“Well, I’m going to make some breakfast, feel free to watch TV or something.” You smile awkwardly at the two men, unsure of why there is suddenly a strange tension in the air. As you move into the kitchen, you connect your phone to your Bluetooth speaker. Listening to music while you cook has always been calming for you. You honestly prefer baking, but eggs and sausage with toast sounds perfect right now. You pull out the ingredients, humming softly as you dance around the kitchen. You can just barely hear that Morgan and Spencer are talking in the other room, but not enough to make out what they are saying. It just sounds a bit more intense the conversation you just had.

You choose to ignore it and give them their privacy instead focusing on cooking. You end up making scrambled eggs the way your mom taught you, by mixing in some chive and onion cream cheese. You pop some English muffins in the oven under the broiler while you place the eggs and sausages in dishes. After turning the music down, you move all the food to the table. You’re about to invite Spencer and Morgan to have some food when you hear their conversation.

“I’m telling you man. She likes you. You should go for it.” Morgan is clearly trying to encourage Spencer, but he won’t hear it.

“Morgan, it’s not like that. It’s probably just transference because I’m here to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Plus, you saw the smile on her face when she talked about Ryan asking her out. She was beaming.” He sighs, almost wistfully as you consider what he’s saying. Surely you are capable of separating your feelings for him from the situation. Would you like him if you had just run into him on the street? Plus, what does Ryan have to do with this?

You move back to the stove to remove the English muffins before they burn, putting them on a plate as well. Ultimately, you decide to try to straighten out your feelings for Spencer before making a move. You want to be sure. If there is even a shred of doubt in your mind, Spencer will surely be able to see it on your face. Stupid profilers.

Their conversation died down while you were dealing with the muffins, so you walk back to the other side of the room. You mumble out “I made food, you’re both welcome to have some” before returning to the table. You have a lot to think about and the last thing you want to do is lead Spencer on if you aren’t sure. He deserves better than that.

The conversation over breakfast is nice. Nothing too heavy or serious. The three of you are just talking about your lives. Morgan asks you what it’s like to be famous. You ask him and Spencer what it’s like to be in the FBI. You realize just how different your career paths are. The only thing you can relate to is travelling. Neither Spencer nor Morgan have family in the area, but they mention how hard it is for Hotch and JJ.

“That I can understand. The travelling, I mean. Of course, I travel to perform, not to track down killers.” The room is quiet for a few minutes as you think about what to say. Morgan and Reid being profilers know you haven’t finished your thought, so they give you the time to think it over.

“Thank you.” You say it softly, but firmly at the same time. This is the first time you’ve seen either of them look surprised.

“Wh- for what?” It’s Morgan who speaks up. Spencer has a familiar expression on his face. It’s the same look he got when you asked his opinion for coffee shops and movies.

“For everything. For protecting me. For catching bad guys. For giving up so much to do this job. You two, and the rest of your team, you all sacrifice so much to keep people safe. I mean, I’m sure the people you save and the families you give closure to are grateful, and you deserve that. But, you also deserve to have everyone be thankful for what you do. You get into the minds of these people. It must be exhausting to have to think like that all the time. I’m barely dealing with it now and it’s only be on my mind for 2 days! I just can’t even fathom the number of people you have saved, people that you’ve never even met, by doing this. So, thank you. For being strong enough to do it. For being you.”

You spoke every word with every ounce of sincerity you could muster up. You were looking between them as you said it. The shock on Morgan’s face slowly morphed into a small smile. Spencer’s expression didn’t change, but somehow looked more sincere when you were done.

Neither one of them knew what to say. Morgan rose from his chair to pull you into a hug. Patting you on the back, he uttered a soft thank you before saying he should get back to the office to help the rest of the team. You locked the door behind him, turning to see Spencer staring at you from the table.

“Spence? Are you okay?” You were nervous that your impromptu speech made him uncomfortable. He rose from the table, slowly making his way across the room to you.

“I’m, I, I just… that was… thank you. You amaze me.” He barely says the words, practically breathing them into existence. You reach for his hand, squeezing it.

“I meant every single word. Promise.” There is nothing more you want to do than kiss him right now, but all you can hear in your head is Spencer talking about transference. You hug him quickly before pulling back again. Without some distance between the two of you, you won’t be able to control yourself. “Do you want to go to another café today? Or somewhere with a piano so I can finally see you play?”

“We can do what you want today. You let me pick the café and the show yesterday, so it’s only fair.” You grin, knowing exactly where you want to take him.

The two of you get ready in near silence after that. Both of you want to calm down a bit before spending another day together. After you’ve both showered and changed, you drag Spencer down to the SUV. The weather outside is perfect for where you want to go, but the park is just far enough away that you want to drive. You pull up directions on your phone, hiding the address from him. Spencer protests the entire time. He keeps mumbling about how he would know how to get there if you just told him where you were going. Then something about how mobile phones are a distraction, so it would be safer for him to drive anyway.

You just let him ramble on about the many DC streets. Your grip on the wheel tightens when he starts listing off statistics about car accidents.

“More than 38,000 people die every year in crashes on U.S. roadways. The U.S. traffic fatality rate is actually 12.4 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants. An additional 4.4 million are injured seriously enough to require medical attention. Road crashes are the leading cause of death in the U.S. for people aged 1-54.” With every passing word, your knuckles get whiter, your heartbeat gets faster, and your breaths get shorter. Spencer is too caught up in reciting the statistics to realize anything is wrong until he turns to look at you, his next sentence dying on his tongue. “Seatbelts reduce the risk of dying by…” His brow furrows as he takes in your appearance.

“By what Spence? Don’t leave me hanging?” You try to joke with him to calm yourself down, but he obviously sees right through it.

“45%.” He continues before you can even comprehend the number. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m totally fine. 100% A-Okay.” You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Having arrived at your destination, you pull into a parking spot.

“Y/N, talk to me. What is it?” You take a steadying breath as you turn to face him. Honestly, you are embarrassed more than anything else. You were the one who decided you had to drive.

“Spence, really it’s not a big deal. I just get nervous driving sometimes. I don’t have to do it a lot, and I’ve never felt like I was particularly good at it. It doesn’t matter though, we’re here.” You move to get out of the car, but Spencer reaches across the car to stop you. His face is only inches from yours as the realization dawns on him.

“And I was rambling on about how dangerous driving is.” He says it more to himself than to you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you stop me? I really need to learn how to shut up. I just get so caught up in the statistics-“ “Spencer. I love when you ramble. I’ve already told you how calming it is… normally. I’m fine, I promise. You just have to drive us back to the hotel later. Deal?”

“Deal.” You’re both smiling as you get out of the car to walk around the park you brought him to. He doesn’t ask why you picked this place and you don’t offer up a reason. He’ll figure it out soon enough. You talk about random things from childhood as you lazily stroll through the trees. There’s something so calming about wandering through so many trees when you know you’re in the middle of a bustling city.

Before long, the two of you have crossed the park. A few feet away stands an upright piano in front of a park bench. You glance at Spencer as he looks at the piano, realization gracing his features as he discovers why you chose this particular park. You beckon for him to sit down next to you, asking him to play you a song.

He blushes as you whisper pretty please in his ear. The cherry on top does him in. Soon enough, you are hearing the beginning notes of Bach’s Prelude in C. You just sit and listen, watching his fingers gracefully move above the keys. He’s not the most passionate of piano players. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he moves his hands efficiently across the instrument, as if he really is thinking about the math behind it all. Still, you lose yourself in the music, swaying lightly. You find yourself leaning on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you think about everything you’ve been feeling.

You studied music for a few years when you were young. That’s how you started writing, with lessons to learn to play both the guitar and the piano. You took to the guitar more than the piano, but you remember learning about the emotion behind every classical piece you were taught to play. You can’t help but think back to those lessons as you listen to Spencer. This song is always reaching forward, yearning for the next note. It plays into the idea that life is simple and pure. Even good at times. But there is something lurking just below the surface. It’s weirdly fitting of your current situation, but you choose to just be glad he chose the major over the minor.

You feel the breeze in your hair as Spencer finishes the song. For a few moments, the two of you sit listening to the leaves rustling in the wind. Eventually, you look around the park once it is quiet again. It’s mostly empty given that it’s 2 pm on a Tuesday, so there aren’t many people around to witness this moment. You slip your phone on the piano to record before you take over, playing that all too familiar melody that reminds you of Spencer. Neither of you say anything as you let the music and your emotions guide you through the song. You can tell it’s not perfect, but it just feels right.

After that, you and Spencer brainstorm lyrics for Rossi’s song for another few hours. The park begins to fill up as school lets out and the workday ends. A few fans recognize you, asking for pictures. After a particularly strong gust of wind, Spencer drapes his cardigan over you as you walk back toward the car, both of you blissfully unaware of the figure watching you from behind the trees.

The next few days pass in much the same fashion. Spencer takes calls about the case, trying to narrow down the massive list of crew members on your tour. You and he work on lyrics for Rossi’s song, as well as JJ’s. She’s just so pretty, the words flow right out of you. You can tell Spencer agrees. You believe him as he swears up and down that the two of them are just friends, but you can’t help teasing him just a bit.

“Honestly, it would be weirder if you didn’t think she was pretty. The woman looks as if she were sculpted by Michelangelo himself. A living embodiment of Aphrodite.” He nods in agreement, a faint blush on his cheeks.

No matter how much you try, you just cannot come up with anymore good lyrics for Spencer’s song. It could be that he is sitting right next to you all the time and knows the song is for him that’s causing the writer’s block, but it’s still frustrating.

One night, he’s working through the case file for the third time in a row when you interrupt his thoughts with a seemingly random question.

“Spence, can you tell me a story?” He looks up at you, brow furrowed and eyes confused. “I just need inspiration for the lyrics. Everything I come up with sucks.” You pout until he finally gives in. “Yay! It can be anything, even a memory. Just make it overwhelmingly happy.”

Spencer stops looking through the file as he thinks back on his life experiences for an overwhelmingly happy memory. The faces of his team members instantly flood his mind as he sorts through the many good times they’ve had. He keeps circling back to one event, ultimately deciding it is happy enough to fit your standards.

“This is actually the story of JJ’s wedding.” You lean forward, a wedding story could be just what the doctor ordered. “Will wanted to marry her for a while, but she was hesitant. She said everything was perfect as it was, she didn’t feel the need to change anything.” You were honestly a little confused as to where the happiness was at this point, but you let him continue anyway. You could listen to this man talk for days on end without complaint.

“We ended up working a case with Will. It was a bank robbery turned hostage situation. It was a rough case for all of us; bombs, secret partners, kids at risk. I won’t bore you with the details,” he chuckles at your thankful expression, “but it all worked out in the end. Will, he could’ve died. When JJ went to see him in the hospital, she told him to ask her again. She wanted to get married then and there in the hospital chapel. Will wanted to wait until he was actually out of the hospital though, and not wearing a hospital gown.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of loving someone so much, you were instantly ready to marry them.

“Rossi, he overheard everything. So, he started planning. He called JJ’s mom, told her to fly in and to bring her wedding dress. We threw her a surprise wedding the next day. It was such a beautiful moment, to have such a joyous event after everything that we had been through. JJ looked wonderstruck as her mom walked her down the aisle. The lights were sparkling. It was enchanting.” He spoke with such awe about the whole event. He told you stories about doing magic for Henry and Jack, who you came to know as Hotch’s son. It was so easy for you to picture the fairy lights and purple flowers. The team seemed like such a close-knit family, it only made sense that they would share this memory.

The chorus of the song hit you like a ton of bricks. You didn’t even warn Spencer as you jumped from the couch and ran to the piano. He followed behind you, curious to see what would happen. He watched with wonder as you placed your phone to record on top of the piano and started playing the family melody you first hummed while thinking about him.

“This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you.” The verses didn’t pour out of you in quite the same way, but the general storyline of the song came to you in the next few minutes. You rushed to get it all out, speaking directly into the phone.

“The first verse can be about feeling out of place in a room, faking laughter, forcing smiles. Then it all changes when she sees him. It’s as if they have a conversation with only their eyes as they float across the room to each other. Then the chorus. The second verse can be about her wondering if he felt it to. 2 am who do you love? Chorus again. Then the bridge can be about hoping that the one night wasn’t it for them. That she’ll see him again and hoping he isn’t already in love or with someone.” You’re so pleased with the song idea, you don’t notice the shifting expressions on Spencer’s face. After your explanation, you turn to him, the biggest smile he’s seen yet on your face.

“What do you think?” He’s so shocked he doesn’t know how to respond. After a moment of silence, your face begins to fall. You can’t stop your brain from thinking the worst.

He must hate it. Oh god, he’s just trying to find a way to let me down easy. Why do I have to be so stupid? Sure, go ahead. Write a love song about the man who’s sitting next to you. That won’t be weird at all. Oh god, oh god…

Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s beautiful. It will make a wonderful song.” He’s whispering in your ear. The feeling of his lips brushing against you is too much. Everything you’ve been pushing back for the past few days comes roaring to the surface. You can’t stop yourself.

You pull back slowly, only to pull his face to yours so rapidly you’re surprised you didn’t get whiplash. In less than an instant, his lips are moving gracefully against yours. His hands slide down your body to your waist as he pulls you even closer to him. Your arms move up around his neck, your fingers running through his hair. The hunger and passion is slowly taken over by the need for oxygen, the two of you separating just enough to pull air into your lungs.

He kisses your forehead, and you kiss his nose. A few minutes later, and you’re still standing there with your heads pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. Every so often, one of you places a light kiss on the others mouth, just to make sure this is real.

“I know what you’re thinking.” You are still out of breath from kissing him, but you can just tell his mind is moving a mile a minute.

“I’m not sure you do.” He sounds nervous.

“I think I might surprise you.” You can’t help but tease him a little before continuing. “You think its all transference. That I only think I like you because you’re here to protect me. Some sort of white knight bullshit.” You can’t stop yourself from sounding mildly annoyed about it. Although, the look of shock on his face helps. “I heard what you said to Morgan.” He sighs before moving to pull back.

“No, Spence. Listen to me. I heard what you said to Morgan.” You wait for him to follow your train of thought back a few days.

“But that was four days ago?” He looks more confused than ever.

“I know. I wanted to make sure that what I feel is real. I didn’t want to lead you on if I might not actually want this. But I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before. Spencer, you are a light in my life and not just because you’re here to make sure I don’t get murdered. Although that certainly doesn’t hurt. I feel like I can tell you anything and you won’t judge me for it. That I can truly be myself without worry of letting you down.”

“Y/N you could never let me down. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything. I don’t want you to regret me.” He looks crestfallen.

“Spencer Reid.” You move your hands to his cheeks to gently push his head up to make eye contact. “I could never regret a single moment spent with you. I have loved every single one. I loved watching you listen to the songs about your friends. I loved listening to you talk about things you love, like Doctor Who and statistics. I loved sitting next to while you played piano. I loved talking to you about anything and everything. Spencer, I love how I feel when I’m with you and I know for a fact I would feel the same way if I met you walking down the street.”

“Y/N” the way he says your name is music to your ears. “I love how I feel when I’m with you too. I loved listening to you sing about my friends, capturing the essence of who they are. I loved watching you experience the things I have grown so accustomed to doing. I loved the feeling of you leaning on my shoulder while I played Bach. I loved hearing you come up with an entire storyline for one song in a matter of minutes just based on one story. I have loved every single second I have been with you since I first saw you 7 days, 2 hours, and 32 minutes ago. Even if I didn’t say a word to you until after you woke up in the hospital.”

The two of you laugh as you pull him to the couch to cuddle. You put on more Doctor Who, sitting with your legs across his lap and playing with his hands. It’s nice to just be close to him without having to worry. You find yourself getting wrapped up in the show. Spencer is quieter this time. You think he might have something on his mind, but you decide to wait for him to share. Between the third and fourth episode, he speaks up.

“Y/N, are you and Ryan… are you together?” You look up to see a nervous expression once again on his face.

“Ryan who?” You are genuinely confused as to who he could even be talking about.

“Ryan Moore, the sound booth guy.” You look even more confused than before.

“Not even a little bit. I politely declined his offer to take me out. Is that what’s been bugging you for the last three episodes?” You smile at his pout.

“Maybe. You just seemed so happy when you mentioned that he asked you out. You were practically glowing with how big your smile was.”

“Spence, I was happy because I could actually help you with the case. I only have eyes for one guy.” You shift to straddle his lap.

“Yeah, who’s that?” He pulls you even closer.

“Matt Smith” You say it with the best deadpan expression you can manage in the circumstances.

“Wow, your standards must be pretty low to settle for the 11th doctor. He’s not even in the top three best doctors!” He plays along with your joke, although he doesn’t have to act incredulous sat you preference for the 11th doctor.

“Well, my number one doctor isn’t really on TV.” You bite your lip, leaning in until you connect your mouth to his.

Right as you’re both about to take it one step further, your phone rings. “Fuck.” The word is barely a whisper leaving your mouth as you pull back from Spencer trying to catch your breath.

“Hello?” you don’t hear anything on the other end of the phone. “Hello? Anyone there? Hello?” Suddenly the line goes dead. You turn to Spencer. “Well, that was weird.” Spencer frantically moves you off his lap as he stands up, taking out his phone. Without telling you anything, he is frantically dialing a number, mumbling under his breath.

“Garcia! I need to you to figure out who just called Y/N’s phone.” He waits a minute, presumably listening to her reply. “Yes, it just rang and when she answered nobody said anything. Thank you.” He hangs up, swiftly moving back to the couch to pull you into a hug.

“What just happened?” You can feel your heartrate speeding up.

“It might be nothing, but that might have been the unsub. Garcia is tracking down the number that made the call right now. If it’s possible to figure out, she’ll have it done by morning.” He rubs calming circles on your hip with his thumb. “Why don’t you go to sleep? Try to get some rest?” You nod, rising from the couch.

“Spence, will you lay with me?” Your voice is small and scared as you ask the question. He simply nods, both of you changing into pajamas before meeting in the bedroom to lay down. You snuggle up close to him, trying to breathe in the same pattern as him until you fall asleep.

When you wake up, you can hear Spencer in the living room, talking on his phone. You want nothing more than to go back to sleep, but not if you can’t cuddle with Spencer while you do it. Throwing the covers off of you, you get up so you can actually see Spencer. He’s got his back to you when you open the door, so you sneak up behind him. He jumps a little with a surprised gasp when you wrap your arms around his middle.

“What? Oh, uh… I’m fi-fine. Everything’s fine. I was just surprised.” He spins around to hug you, giving you a slight glare. “By, um, a beetle. Yeah, there was a beetle.” The lie is so obvious you can’t help but laugh as you bury your head into his chest.

A few minutes later, he finally hangs up. “What did they find out about the phone call?” You mumble the question into the fabric of his cardigan.

“Less than we were hoping for. It was a prepaid cell, so Garcia can’t trace it back to the owner.” You squeeze him tighter, glad to have him with you through all of this. After a few minutes of standing with him, you reluctantly pull back.

“Well, we should get to work. These songs are not going to write themselves!”

You and Spencer retreat to different parts of the suite to get ready for the day. As much as you would love to jump his bones, it doesn’t feel right to take up his time with that when he could be working. At least if you were working on songs together it was part of the cover.

You ultimately decide to just sit in the park across from the hotel today. Normally, you wouldn’t even leave your room at this point in the writing process. You just don’t completely trust yourself to be alone with him at the moment. At least in public you can control yourself a little bit. Yet, the many people walking around the park do nothing to stop you from grabbing Spencer’s hand and playing with his fingers while thinking particularly hard about a certain lyric.

A bright flash of light draws you out of your reverie. You already know how the picture is going to look. You are laying across a blanket, knees in the air. Spencer is sitting beside you, reading messages from the team on his phone. His other hand is still between yours as you run your fingers over his knuckles. You are absolutely sure there is look of complete adoration on your face. You can’t bring yourself to care that the paparazzi took the picture. You have nothing to hide.

After the shock of the bright light fades, you notice a familiar face behind the few photographers in front of you. The shock of seeing someone for a second time floods your brain while you try to remember the profile Hotch told you that very first night. Without thinking too hard, you fling yourself into a sitting position. You gather everything you brought with you to the park, dragging Spencer along with you. He clearly doesn’t understand the shift in your behavior, but he’d gladly follow you anywhere.

It’s not until you reach your room that you look at him. He can see the fear in your eyes before you even open your mouth. “Baby, what is it? What happened?” He begins recalling everything from the moment the first flash went off, trying to figure out what made you so scared.

“I saw him.” You can barely hear yourself over the sound of your heart beating in your chest. “I saw the unsub. I mean, I think I did. He held the door open for us this morning when we left the hotel, and then he was in the park when the paparazzi were taking pictures. Hotch… he said to tell you if I saw anyone more than once in a day.” The words escape your lips in a hurry, trying to keep up with your flying thoughts.

“Okay, breathe. I’m right here. I’m going to call the team. Did you recognize him from anywhere else?” You try to picture the face in your mind, and suddenly you are seeing him everywhere. In the coffee shop that very first day. Behind the trees in the park with the piano. If you and Spencer were there, so was he. Just, normally you only caught a glimpse of him for a second. Definitely not twice in one day.

You rush to tell Spencer what you’re remembering. At this point, you don’t even know if it’s true. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. Just filling in this man’s face on other people’s bodies to fit the story that he is the one behind it all. Nonetheless, you give him the description of who you saw. White, probably 35ish, brown hair. You didn’t see his eyes, but they looked evil. The expression on his face just screamed serial killer. Maybe that’s in your head too. Who knows?

“I know I’ve seen that face before, I just can’t remember where. God, I’m useless. This man is hurting people and I can’t even remember where I’ve seen him before. Think. Think. THINK.” You’ve started pacing the room, trying to figure out who it could be. Spencer doesn’t say anything else to you until he’s finished the phone call. Even then, he’s more so humming and shushing you than really talking. He pulls you into a hug, trying to calm you down yet again.

“Y/N. You are anything but useless. You noticed he was there. That’s a step in the right direction. We are going to find him, and he is going to go to jail for a very long time.” Somewhere, deep inside, you knew Spencer couldn’t guarantee that, but you also knew it was better for you to listen to him than to force yourself down a rabbit hole you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

A few calming breaths later, and your asleep on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms.

It’s still dark when you open your eyes. You can hear someone moving around, but it’s too dark to see. Spencer isn’t with you on the couch, so it could be him, but something feels wrong. Why would Spencer be up in the middle of the night wandering around in the dark?

“Spencer?” Everything goes still at the sound of your voice. Yeah, that was not the best move you could’ve made… Before you can say anything else, you are knocked out cold. The sound of a lamp smashing over your head is that last thing you hear.

tag list:

@mac99martin , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @spencerhotchner , @girloncorneliastreet , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @moonshinerbynight , @meowiemari , @justanotherfangirl , @im-so-wonderstruck , @eevee0722 , @raining13lemonade @dilaudidwinchester , @silverdagger69 , @thatsonezesty13

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid one shot #Criminal Minds #spencer reid x you

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love-peterparker · 4 years ago

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In Extremis || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After the reveal of Spider-Man’s secret identity and the release of Quentin Beck’s murder video, there isn’t a lot going right for Peter Parker. But he has you.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, protests and rallies, mentions of murder, a gun that is never shot, and some hair description for Y/N for plot purposes (but it should still be generic enough).

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I’m first a Captain America and Agent Carter fan, and I wanted to recreate what makes their relationship so special, but with Peter and Y/N… ‘cuz I also love Peter Parker. I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, thanks to @marvelouspeterparker, @sinisterspidey (she actually has a blurb called I’ll Follow You and it builds off of Spider-Man’s identity reveal) and @stuckonspidey for answering my anon asks for general writing tips and Peter’s character. And @spideyspeaches with her kind words after reading one of the final drafts of this fic. Lastly, a special thanks to @peterbenjiparker encouraging me with this fic and for making me so emotional with her series Invisible String (Read this!... but only if your heart can take it) that I needed to write something. This story has nothing to do with it, but it does make some small generic references to her fic, and I would like to think that Y/N and Peter are soulmates in this story.

***

This takes place in a universe where a FFH-esque identity reveal happens when Y/N and Peter are young adults.

***

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

Peter rarely admits it, but you say it all the time. When you hit a dead end in the Avenger’s database. When checking for your gun before leaving another safehouse. When reaching for him in the dark of night.

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

It had been over a year since Peter’s identity as Spider-Man was revealed and the dubious video of Quentin Beck’s murder was released. But it felt like a lifetime.

These two Peter problems were like ivy. They rooted, twisted, and spread. Winding into chokeholds around their victims.

But heroes knew how to play with fire.

Peter’s identity was dealt with in a straightforward fashion. Plenty villains who would do anything to exact revenge on Spider-Man, but they would have to find Peter Parker and identify his loved ones first. And for someone like Peter? Well, it was going to take some time.

To you, Peter was lifegiving. A shining ray of golden hope. You fell to sleep and rose to press kisses into his face. To cherish and hold. To share tears. But to the world, or even New York City? He was a nobody, one who couldn’t even hold a steady job.

You all worked fast while the wicked played catch-up. The Avengers searched and wiped all, but ultimately little personal information Peter had on the internet, as well anything that might connect him to your shared inner circle. Everyone was given an Avenger’s signal watch. And both you and May opted to move as a precaution. May to Brooklyn. You to Avenger’s Tower.

The case of Quentin Beck’s murder was a much more grinding process. Through polished superhero reputations, the lawyers secured an Avenger’s Tower house arrest during court proceedings. An overwhelming amount of evidence in Peter’s favor was gathered. Press conferences were held. Speeches were given. And when it all seemed like it was too much for too long, you and Peter would lie in bed, arms and legs entangled, whispering that everything would turn out all right. Good will win. You just had to keep going.

It was taxing, but not impossible. And just when you all thought you were pulling at the end of the thread with the jury in your favor, the ground beneath you crumbles into nothingness. You spiral and crash into a labyrinth, lush and high-walled. Maybe this was the way out- oh wait, you’ve been here- or have you? You all turn and turn only to face a new dead end. A new set of incriminating videos were released. Spider-Man’s videos took the spotlight, but videos of Wanda and Bucky were also revealed. The streets of New York bustled in whispers.

Can we really trust these heroes? What if these videos are the truth?

And what happens when these powerful people think they are right when they are wrong?

When public protests against Earth’s heroes sprouted and jury members started to disappear, it was clear that the whoever or whatever was behind this had greater motives and powerful allies. It was time to buy time.

Everyone had tried to convince Peter to go into hiding somewhere else. Anywhere else. He had enough super-friends where anywhere was possible. Lay low while everyone else above ground scrambled to unweave this massive web of lies. But Peter was infuriatingly adamant that New York, regardless of her wavering loyalties, was his to protect.

So two months ago, he started bouncing around New York City, investigating when he could, and making polarizing headlines with every swing he took.

You tried to continue as if Peter was still by your side. After being terminated from your junior journalist job for “suspect ties to Spider-Man,” Spider-Man became your mission. You originally attended press conferences and rallies as moral support, but after Peter’s first awkward mumbles of a speech, it was painfully clear that he needed a new voice. The public herself needed a normal person who interacted with superheroes. Who better than Spider-Man’s girlfriend? But after the last kidnapping attempt and the Avengers’ numbers shrinking, it was clear that this wouldn’t last. The world now knew who you were too.

The thick ivy had caught up, and you were on fire.

But to hell with it because there was no universe where you would be leaving this nightmare without him. So the next time you looked in the mirror, you donned short red hair and heavy eyeliner.

Days were spent questioning possible witnesses. Nights were spent in the light of a computer. And when you could barely drag yourself to continue, moments were spent staring at your beautiful boy’s picture. He needed you.

You had only heard from him twice since he went into hiding, though there were a few times answered unknown number calls would lead to abstract rustling and distinct web shooter noises. To those, you always whispered “I love you,” before hanging up.

That was until last night, when you noticed small slip of paper in the crack of the window of the safehouse you had been staying at. Only a time and an address were written, in messy, but undeniably Parker script.

You spent the next day visiting arbitrary places in the Bronx, trying to determine if anyone was following you and collecting items in an unsuspecting backpack.

It was a balancing act between comfort and practicalities. An extra stealth suit. A waterproof jacket you both shared. Protein bars. Extra web fluid and a first-aid kit. A hefty wad of cash, just in case. And in the smallest pocket, things to help him in the darkest days to come. Letters from you, May, Ned, and your other friends. A few packs of gummy bears. And a picture of you and him, laughing in Central Park on one of your many dates. Sunlight casting halos on your heads. Bright. Carefree. Brimming with love.

Your heart cried and cried and cried, begging for those days.

But they were gone. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so were the people in that picture.

You travelled to the building location and made your way to the rooftop. Rows and rows of white sheets were hung, all whipping in the wind to dry.

A small smile graced your lips. You had to hand it to him. He was smart.

You folded yourself into one of the corners of the rooftop, gun in hand and waited. Eerie silence slowly lulling you to…

You woke up to the soft footsteps, sleepy eyes registering a shadowy figure behind one of the bedsheets.

“Hans?” you whispered, pointing your gun with a finger on the trigger.

“Leia,” the figured replied, equally hushed. The shadow lifted the curtain. It took a second to register, but it was really him. You raced towards each other, quick hold each other, beaming. Today, you existed in the same place at the same time.

“That was so stupid. I can’t believe you got me to do that,” you laughed, pressing your face into him, holding him tightly as if he could disappear at any moment.

“Oh, come on, you loved it!” he quipped. You hummed in appreciation.

“True, but I love you more.” His eyes brightened at your confession, pink dusting his cheeks.

“I know.” You shook your head, smiling at his response before turning your head and taking in who he had become. Gone were the luxurious curls, replaced with a buzzcut. A pair of fake glasses perched on his nose in further attempts to conceal his identity. Hallowed eyes. His skin tinted gray from the stress. You ran your fingers through the fuzz on his head, massaging his scalp. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes fluttering shut, with hands reaching to caress yours.

“You cut your hair.”

“You did too.” His fingers danced in the ends of your own tresses. A sad smile furnished your face.

“It had to be done,” you replied, before pressing your lips to his cheek and gently removing yourself from his embrace to get your laptop. “We need to get started. We’ve found a lot since you left.”

With his head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours, and your laptop on your lap, you recounted the on-going investigation to him. The deep web that just kept going and going. Your theories and suspects. And when that was done, you kept talking. How Aunt May and his friends were fine but missing him. How the remaining Avengers were fairing. Peter was oddly quiet, sharing only a few thoughts here and there, but you attributed it to his weariness.

As the sun continued to dip, the silences between sentences stretched, but you mustered more words. As if your sentences were the delicate string that grounded him to you.

“Y/N,” he interrupted. You looked at him and hummed in reply. He began playing with your fingers, eyes never meeting your own. “I love you more than I ever I thought I could, and I’m really thankful for everything you’ve done. And you’ve done so much. Like, I don’t know if I would have even made it this far without you, but here you are, and well, you can’t keep doing this.” You cocked your head, before shaking your head, hair rustling.

“What? Peter, we are getting somewhere! I just need to visit the-“ He lets go of your hand, fingers clenching into trembling fists.

“No, no more visits. No more investigating. This can’t be your life. When this started, we thought there was a way out. But it’s been over a year. Clearly whoever or whatever is doing this won’t stop until we’re all gone. This may never stop. I can’t have you throwing away your life for me. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll see you aga-“

“Peter,” you cut him off, your voice pitched lower in concern, “Where is this coming from? We’re gonna make it. It is just a matter of-”

“I can’t give you what you deserve! I’m Spider-Man, so we don’t get to have a house and two kids! We get this-, this fucking disaster! I live like this because I have to. I don’t get a choice. And you shouldn’t be stupid enough where you are doing the same thing!”

Your mouth fell open, ready to spit back poison when he looked at you. It was in his eyes. Behind the falling tears and redness was the glint of insecurity that Peter had always carried. This was the child whose parents died. The teenager who didn’t stop his Uncle Ben from getting killed. Who held Tony Stark in his last moments. The man who was on the run.

The hero who would never stop giving to a world who would never stop taking.

Your thoughts frenzied. If you held on to him too tightly, he would resist. The more he would thrash, determined to save you while slowly sacrificing himself until there was nothing left. Your brain was frozen, so your heart gave you the words-

“Marry me.”

Peter’s eyes widen before retracting into a tight furrow, scrunching his nose.

“What?! No! Did you not hear anything I just said-“

“I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. The one thing you never get to doubt in the world is us. So, I’m gonna ask you again; will you,” you took his hand, went to one knee, and let your voice soften as you held his gaze, “Peter Parker, marry me?”

You both bathed in silence. His chocolate doe eyes boring straight into yours, searching for truth. The thought that maybe you had gone about this the wrong way started to crawl into your mind, but then a smile slowly creeped onto his face, bright red with blush. More salt-water pooled in his eyes. He pulled you into a near lung-constricting embrace, smothering wet kisses into every inch of your face. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could practically hear his thoughts as you basked in each kiss. I missed you. I love you. And oh my god, you’re here to stay.

“What did I ever-, I have no idea know what I ever did to ever deserve you.” A smirked formed on your lips.

“Is that a yes?” The gold stars in his eyes shined at your playfulness. There was the man you always loved.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes. I do, Mrs. Parker,” he said pulling you in for a passionate kiss. And you both stayed there, melting into the ground beneath you. Breathing each other in as moments passed. Tender “I love you’s” flowing generously from both of your lips. As if the world had vanished and all that existed was you and him, and him and you, and this understanding that this, this was a love until death do you part.

Peter was the one to break the string of kisses, leaving you to chase his lips before touching his forehead with your own. His breath hot on your face. “I- , if you go to my lab there is a secret compartment. In my desk. The code is your birthday. I was going to ask you myself, but then, well… this.” You chuckled as he stumbled on his words.

“I’ll get it as soon as I can.” You both leaned in to close the gap again when a cacophony of sirens and lights echoed in the streets below.

Frustration filled Peter’s eyes as he sat up. “Shit. I-, I gotta go. Are you gonna be okay?” You let out a shallow breath, but quickly forced a smile.

“Go get’em.” And with the whip of his webs, he was gone.

You sat there for a moment, taking in the new quiet. Your fingers graced your lips, still warm with the memory of his. A lightness had settled in your chest, and with every breathe you could feel it pulse stronger.

Because no matter what it took, no matter how long the wait, there was two things for certain.

He was going to protect the city. And you were going to save your husband.

#In Extremis #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

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neqeyam · 4 years ago

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Kaeya Head Canons!

hey besties, me again! Kaeya brainrot hit hard today LOL, anyways some of these may be ooc bc I don’t main Kaeya anymore so i’ve forgotten a lot about his character plus I don’t read the lore (where tf do yall find it even).

Also if some of my head canons for any charcter seem personal or have nothing to do with their character it’s me projecting LOL!

anyways, onto the hcs!

(ps, thank you so much for the love on my last hc post! i really didn’t expect anyone to see it LOL)

He’s a menace. but everyone loves him

Kaeya skips, when he isn’t in a professional setting my guy is skipping. It’s so much faster than walking and more fun than walking.

This^ is especially true when he’s out with his s/o. holding your hand, he’ll skip and force you to either jog or skip along with him to keep up.

Again I say; he’s dating Albedo. Kaeya saw Albedo from across the bar and without missing a beat he got up, waltzed over and started flirting with him. Albedo had no idea what was happening, he then asked sucrose to accompany him the next time he went and it was sucrose who broke the news to Albedo that he was being flirted with. Kaeya laughed for 5 minutes and refuses to let Albedo forget it.

(oh my god tell me why as soon as I go to write these they all leave my mf brain im sorry if these are terrible)

Kaeya taught bennett how to sword fight, and still does on the rare occasion he has a free hour.

^most people of Mondstadt think bennett went to Kaeya for help but that’s not true. Someone sent in a letter to AGM Jean (the hand writing looked suspiciously like Diluc’s but he refuses to admit it was him) saying that bennett was looking into learning the art of the sword. The next day Kaeya dispatched himself to look for bennett and for the next two months (technically it’s been like two years but bennett is a fast learner) Kaeya was a dad.

Kaeya absolutely despises working out but he does it anyways because he wants to be able to pick up kids.

Kaeya is AMAZING with kids, he makes jokes about hating them but when he sees one he melts. He has to work with them a lot because he is often dispatched for travel mishaps (hilichurls attacking carriages, that sort of thing) and often times the parents are injured so he has to comfort any kids that may be on scene.

Kaeya is buff, absolutely jacked. you can’t see it because he dresses modestly (sorta) to down play his physical strength but my guy can deadlift like 350 LBS (idk if that’s a lot tbh I don’t workout anymore LMAO)

Kaeya is as smart as he is muscular. He’s among the smartest knights, probably top three (it goes kaeya, jean, lisa). HOWEVER, he ranks first in battle intelligence. my guy can analyse four opponents at the same time, find all their weak spots and exploit them in matter of seconds.

Kaeya is also a master of manipulation. i can see it in his eyes, this man knows the mind of all his enemies, old and new.

(wait now i’m imagining Kaeya riding a horse that’s full sprint HELP. I’m turning myself into a Kaeya simp....)

Kaeya’s horse is all black except for a white patch that looks suspiciously like the star from Khaenri’ah (it’s on its lower neck). his horse is also by far the fastest in the entire company and was once part of a herd of horses that roamed Mondstadt’s country side. (Diluc helped him tame it but shhh nobody is supposed to know)

^Kaeya was extremely pissed of when Varka took his cavalry, still is in fact. I mean, he’s the cavalry captain damn it, find your own horses. Especially because there were enough horses so Kaeya’s could stay behind in case he needed it for something, but NOOOO Varka refused anything but teh best- which happened to be Kaeya’s horse.

Kayea’s named his horse Außenseiter, and that is absolutely a reflection of his feelings.

Kaeya is fucking fantastic at masking what he’s feeling, you’ll never know what he’s actually feeling. If a situation starts to go downhill, you won’t know it until it’s practically too late because Kaeya is just. that. good.

he’s also fucking fantastic at playing the long game. nobody knows but he’s the knights of favoniouses official interrogator and he is a menace. he always gets what he wants out of people, whether it takes two hours and two months, he gets it, and reports directly to AGM Jean his findings.

Kaeya and Eula share ‘war stories’ (how they go their visions mostly, but other things like the way people treat Eula, and how they chalk Kaeya up to being ‘just a flirt’)

he has a fan club. they aren’t as loud as the Diluc fan club but he knows they’re there. sometimes he’ll pop in on meetings and everyone just. fucking freezes bc their lord and savior- THE Kaeya is standing in their presence. he loves them.

He openly talks about liking anyone he wants to so that the youth of mondstadt can talk about as well. and the LGBTQ+ of mondstadt know that if they’re having a problem with someone they have his permission of threaten said person with his name.

^and archons hope he isn’t in the vicinity when it reaches that point. all rational goes out the window and then he’s all threats and no jokes. with a threatening smile that screams “test me, see what happens”

^then he treats whoever was being disrespected to a meal, on him.

and that’s all for now! thanks again for the love on my first head canon post! i really need to learn how to use tumblr so i can make a masterlist of these LOL. there will definitely be more coming soon!

#kaeya alberich #kaeya headcanons #kaeya x reader #kaeya #albedo is in here too #kaeya is pan #there i said it #genshin impact #knight of favonius #KOF #video game characters #video game

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wasjust-a-fangirl-here · 4 years ago

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Blind-Sided. (Part 1)

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

Summary: This fic just follows the first episode, but Dean has a daughter, you.

Word Count: 7,098.

Fandom: Supernatural.

Warnings: Swearing, etc.

Pairings: Dean X Daughter!Reader, Sam X Niece!Reader.

Note: I did not proof-read this.. Here’s the first part to Blind-Sided. I have no idea where this was going, I just wanted to write something. I didn’t know what to do with this first part, but here it is and I might do another part maybe, differently, of course.

Here’s the Prologue to this.

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

"So, what are you gonna do? You just gonna live some normal, apple pie-life? Is that it?" Dean questioned, walking behind the impala.

"No, not normal. Safe." Sam answered, following behind Dean. "And that's why you ran away." Dean said, scoffing.

Sam huffed, "I was just going to college. It was dad who said' if I was going to go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing." Sam says, looking at Dean.

"Yeah, well, dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already, I can feel it." Dean said, "I can't do this alone." He added, looking back at Sam.

"Yes, you can." Sam says quietly, "yeah, well, I don't want to." Dean says, looking away from Sam.

Before Sam can reply, he hears a small voice asking; "is everything okay, dad?" They both turned to look at you, seeing you lean out the window, tiredly rubbing your eyes.

Dean smiled at you, "yeah, bug, go back to sleep." Dean says to you, hearing a small 'okay' from you, he turned back to Sam.

"So, 'dad' huh?" Sam asked, a small smile on his lips. Dean scoffed, "shut up, bitch." He retorts, hearing Sam laugh, he smiled again.

"Alright, jerk." Sam says, "what was he hunting?" He asked, Dean turned to open the trunk, letting out a small 'alright' "Let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?" Dean talked to himself, looking through the trunk.

"So, when dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked, leaning against the car. "I was working my own gig, this voodoo thing, down in New Orleans." Dean replied.

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam mockingly asked, Dean looked at him. "I'm 26, dude." Dean says defensively.

Dean grabbed a folder, taking out the papers, "alright, here we go." He says, standing straight. "So, dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California.

About a month ago, this guy. They had found his car, but he had vanished, completely MIA." Dean says, starting to explain what their father was hunting, handing Sam some papers.

Sam looked at the papers Dean handed him, "so maybe he was kidnapped." He suggested, looking up from the papers.

"Yeah, well, here's another in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92, ten of them in the past twenty years.

All men, all same five-mile stretch of road." Dean says, putting the papers back into the folder. "It started happening more and more, so, dad went to go dig around.

That was about three weeks ago, and I haven't heard from hi since. Which is bad enough." Dean added, grabbing a recorder.

"And then I get this voicemail yesterday." Dean said, pressing play, both he and Sam listening to the recording. "You know there's E.V.P. on that?" Sam asked, looking at Dean.

Dean grinned, "not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam looked down, shaking his head. "All right, so, I slowed the message down and ran it through a gold-wave, took out the hiss and this is what I got." Dean says, pressing play again.

"I can never go home." A woman says on the recording. Dean looked at Sam, pausing the recorder. "Never go home." Sam repeated, thinking about the recording.

Dean stood up, closing the trunk of his car, "you know, in almost two years, I never bothered you or asked you for a thing." Dean says in a matter-of-factly tone, turning to sit on the car, looking at Sam.

Sam sighs, "all right, I'll go. I'll help you find him." Sam says, "but I have to get back first-thing Monday. Just wait here." He added, turning to go pack a few things.

Before he can walk away, "what's first-thing Monday?" Dean asked, Sam turned back around, "I have this... I have an interview." Sam answers, "what, a job interview? Skip it." Dean says, shrugging his shoulders.

Sam scoffed, he knew Dean wouldn't understand. "It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate." Sam said, frowning at Dean.

"Law school?" Dean asked, smiling at Sam. "So, we got a deal or not?" Sam asked, Dean stayed quiet. Sam took that as a yes and left to go pack.

Dean got into his car, sighing. "So, that's uncle Sam, huh?" You asked once he sat down. Dean turned to look at you, "I thought you went back to sleep." He says, seeing you shrug your shoulders.

"I tried, but I couldn't sleep." You say, moving closer to the front of the car. "He sounded upset, is he not coming?" You asked, Dean noticed that you were worried.

"He's coming, but only for a few days." Dean answered, frowning a little. "Can we listen to AC/DC while we wait?" You asked, sitting back against your seat.

Dean grinned widely, going through his collection, putting in the cassette, Highway To Hell starts playing.

Dean looked at you through the mirror, seeing you smile. Dean smiled, he knew this was one of your favorite songs by AC/DC.

You were badly singing along to another song, you laughed, watching your dad drumming along to the beat against the steering wheel. Dean turned to you, smiling.

The song ended and Walk All Over You started playing, Dean heard you sighing, seeing you lean forward and resting your head against the back of the front seat.

Halfway through the song, Dean noticed you were watching Sam with curious eyes.

Dean turned down the music, starting the car and started to drive away from the building.

Nobody spoke, you broke the some-what silence; "hi." Dean heard you say softly to Sam. Dean saw from the corner of his eye, Sam turning to you in surprise.

"Hi, what's your name?" Sam asked politely. Dean looked in mirror, seeing you smile, "Y/n." You replied, holding your hand out to shake his.

Sam smiled, taking your hand and shook it, "nice to meet you." You both say at the same time, making you laugh. Dean smiled, he loved to hear you laugh.

"Daddy said you'd be tall, and smart, and that's why you're at college." Dean heard you say, Sam laughed, "yeah. Yeah, I am." He said, turning in his seat to look at you.

"What else did he tell you?" Sam asked curiously. Dean listened to you tell Sam all the things you can, until you were starting to fall asleep.

As soon as you fell asleep, Sam turned back forward, glancing at Dean.

Dean looked at you through the mirror again, seeing you wrapped in your blanket. Sam also looking at you again, once he knew you were fully asleep, he looked at Dean.

"Who's who her mother? How old is she?" Sam asked, Dean sighed, his jaw clenching and unclenching a few times. "Remember Mia?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam.

"Yeah, her parents were killed by, what was it? Vampires? Yeah, vampires." Sam says, nodding his head. "Yeah." Dean says, "that's who her mother is?" Sam asked again.

"Yeah, and to answer your other question; she's five, about to turn six soon." Dean said, smiling at Sam. "Where is she?" Sam asked quietly, "Mia, she called me. Told me to go to her as fast as I can.

And I did. What I wasn't expecting was to find her bleeding out and little Y/n confused, but still trying to her mom." Dean said, gripping the steering wheel and loosening his grip.

"She died, but asked me to look after our daughter. I wasn't sure at first, but once I had a good look at her, I knew. She was, is, my daughter." Dean added, Sam turned to look at you.

You were still asleep, Sam stared at you, noticing you had some of Dean's features. Sam smiled softly, he knew once you opened your eyes, they'd be a little like your mom's, if he remembered correctly.

Sam turned back forward in his seat, sighing.

About five hours into driving nonstop, you were still asleep.

Sam looked at you again, chuckling and shaking his hand. "Is she always asleep when you drive?" Sam asked, Dean glanced at him, smiling. "Yeah, I think she loves the sound of the engine." Dean answered.

Half an hour later, you woke up, as Dean parked at a gas station. Dean got out of the car, you following besides him. "What are you doing?" Dean asked, looking down at you.

"I have to use the bathroom." You answered, looking up at him, both of you walking inside, you, heading straight for the bathroom.

Dean shook his head, grabbing a few things to buy, also grabbing what he knew you liked. Dean walked up to the counter, seeing you walking over to him. After Dean paid for the stuff, he handed you some of the stuff.

Both of you walked outside, you going towards the car and going inside, while Dean went to fill up the car with gas.

"Hey, you want breakfast?" Dean asked, holding up a bag of chips and a bottle of soda in one hand and candy in the other. Sam scoffed, "no, thanks." He answered, going through Dean's cassette tapes.

"Besides, how'd you pay for all that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?" Sam asked, "yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career." Dean answered.

"Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards." He added, going over to the drivers side once he was done.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head, "yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked, closing the door, box of cassette tapes on his lap.

"Uh, Burt Aframian, and his son Hector." Dean said, tossing the stuff he had in his hands on the seat, starting the car. "Scored two cards out of the deal." He added, smiling at Sam.

"Sounds about right." Sam admitted, nodding his head. "I swear man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection." Sam said, still going through the box of tapes.

"Why?" Dean questioned, "well, for one; they're cassette tapes, and two; Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam answers, throwing a cassette tape back into the box.

"House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole." Dean stated, grabbing one of the tapes and put it in. "You know, 'Sammy' is a chubby twelve-year old. It's Sam, okay?" Sam says, as Back In Black started playing.

Dean heard you laugh, he smiled at Sam. "Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." Dean says, turning up the music and drove away from the gas station.

Sam got off the phone, hanging up. "All right, so, there's no one matching dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something." Sam said, Dean glanced at him, nodding.

"Check it out." Dean says, seeing police cars and officers on a bridge. Dean parked away from them and looked in the glove compartment. "Alright, sweetheart. You know what to do." Dean says to you.

"Stay hidden, and don't make any noise." Dean heard you say monotonously, he turned to look at you, seeing a comic book in your hands and sitting at the far right in the shadow.

Sam turned to look at you, wondering just how used to this you are. "Let's go." Dean says to Sam, he followed Dean, going out the door and walking towards the abandon car, he assumed.

"Spotless. It's almost too clean." Dean and Sam heard someone say, "so, this kid, Troy. He's dating your daughter, isn't he?" A man asked, "yeah." Another replied, "how's Amy doing?" He asked again.

"She's putting up missing posters downtown." He answered, "you fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean asked, "and who are you?" The same person asked, looking at Dean and Sam.

"Federal marshals." Dean answered, showing him his fake badge. "You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" He questioned skeptically, "ha, thanks. That's awfully kind of you.

You did have another one just like this, correct?" Dean asked again, walking closer to the car. "Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There's been others before that." He answered.

"So, this victim. You knew him?" Sam asked him, he nodded his head. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody." He answers, "any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Dean asked, walking around the car, hands behind his back.

"No, not as far as we can tell." He answered, "so, what's the theory?" Sam asked, walking towards Dean. "Honestly? We don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?" He answered.

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean commented, Sam stomped on Dean's foot, forcing a smile at the police officer.

"Thank you for your time." Sam said to him, "gentlemen." He added, walking away, Dean following behind him and hitting Sam behind his head.

"Ow." Sam said, turning to Dean. "What was that for?" Sam asked, "why you gotta step on my foot?" Dean asked, "why do you gotta talk to police like that?" Sam retorted, Dean looked at him.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find dad, we gotta get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Dean said, Sam looked over Dean's shoulder, clearing his throat.

Dean turned around, seeing the sheriff and two FBI agents. "Can I help you boys?" The sheriff asked, "no, sir. We were just leaving." Dean answered, "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully." Dean said as the two FBI agents walked past them.

Dean and Sam walked past the sheriff and towards the impala.

Dean turned to looked at you, seeing that you were asleep again.

He and Sam got out of the car and saw a girl hanging up a missing poster. "I'll bet you that's her." Dean says, "yeah." Sam said, both of them walking towards her.

"You must be Amy." Dean says to her, "yeah." She answers, "yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean and this is Sammy." Dean said, pointing to Sam.

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy says, glancing at them and starting to walk again. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto." Dean says, walking besides her.

"So, we're looking for him too and we're kinda asking around." Sam said, standing in front of her, another girl walked over to them. "Hey, are you okay?" She asked Amy, "yeah." Amy answered her.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked them, "sure." Amy said, all of them walking towards a restaurant. "I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home.

He said he would call me right back. And, uh... he never did." Amy explained, the four of them sitting in a booth. "He didn't say anything strange? Or out of the ordinary?" Sam asks, "no." Amy replied, "nothing I can remember." She added, shaking her head.

Sam looked at her, "I like your necklace." He said, nodding at it. Amy looked down, grabbing the pendant into her hand, smiling. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents,

with all that devil stuff." She says, breathing out a laugh. Sam smiled, looking down at the cup in his hands and looking back at her. "Actually, it means just the opposite.

A pentagram is protection against evil." Sam explains, "really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." He added, "okay. Thank you, unsolved Mysteries." Dean said, patting Sam's shoulder.

"Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared... something's not right. So, if you've heard anything..." Dean said, seeing them look at each other.

"What is it?" Dean asked, "well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Amy's friend says, looking between him and Sam. "What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean questioned at the same time.

Amy's friend glanced at her, looking back at them. "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she's still out there.

She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up, well, they disappear forever." She explains to them. Sam and Dean looked at each other.

You were still asleep when they went back to the car.

Dean and Sam decided to go to the local library to search for some more answers, leaving you in the car again.

Dean was typing on the computer, 'no results found' Dean read, his brows furrowed, typing again, 'no results found' showing again. "Let me try." Sam says, his hand going towards the keyboard.

Dean swatted his hand away, "I got it." He says, typing again. Sam sighed, pushing Dean's chair away. "Dude! You're such a control freak." He said, hitting Sam.

"So, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?" Sam asks, typing on the keyboard. "Yeah," Dean answered, looking at the computer screen. "But maybe it's not murder." Sam said, typing in 'Suicide' instead of 'Murder'.

'1 result found' it showed, Sam clicked on it, Dean's eyebrows rose, glancing at Sam and then back at the screen.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge. Drowns in the river." Sam read aloud, "does it say why she did it?" Dean asks, "yeah." Sam answers.

"Why?" Dean asks again, "an hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back, they aren't breathing.

Both die." Sam read again, "hmm." Dean says, "'our babies were gone and Constance just couldn't bear it.' Said husband Joseph Welch." Sam finished, "that bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asked, pointing at the picture with a pen.

It was dark when Dean and Sam went back to the car, they saw that you were awake, waiting for them.

He and Sam decided to go back to the bridge, Dean parked and looked at you. "Stay in the car, okay?" He asked, you nodded your head, leaning against the car door.

Both he and Sam got out of the car and walked in the middle of the bridge. "So, this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said, leaning over, looking at the running water below.

"You think dad would have been here?" Sam asked, looking at Dean. "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." Dean answered, walking and looking around.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked, following behind Dean. "Now we keep digging till we find him. Might take a while." Dean replied, Sam stopped walking, sighing. "Dean. I told you. I gotta get back by..."

"By Monday. Right. The interview." Dean interrupted, turning to look at Sam. "Yeah," Sam says, "yeah. I forgot." He added, "you're really serious about this, aren't you?

You think you're just gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean questioned, "maybe. Why not?" Sam answers, "does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean asked again.

"No. And she's not ever going to know." Sam says, stepping closer to Dean. "Well, that's healthy." Dean says, "you can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later

you're gonna have to face up to who you really are." he added, turning to walk again. "And who's that?" Sam asked, following Dean. "You're one of us." Dean answered simply.

"No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life." Sam says, walking in front of Dean, both of them stopping. "You have a responsibility." Dean stated, "to dad? And his crusade?

If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what mom looks like." Sam says, "and what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom's gone and she isn't coming back.

I mean, even Y/n won't know who her grandmother is, other than you and dad telling her who she is and the pictured you guys show her." He added, Dean grabbed Sam and pushed him against the bridge.

"Don't talk about her like that." Dean says, looking at Sam. Dean let go of him, walking away from Sam. Dean saw a woman standing on the railing of the bridge.

"Sam." Dean says, not looking away from the woman as she looked at the both of them and then jumped off the bridge. They both ran towards her, leaning over and seeing nothing.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked, "I don't know." Sam says, as the engine of Dean's car started and the lights turned on. Dean looked towards his car, Sam doing the same thing.

"What the?" Dean says, "who's driving your car? Does Y/n know how to start the car? Did you leave the keys?" Sam asks, Dean pulled out his keys from his pocket.

"No." Dean answered, holding up the keys. Sam looked at the keys in Dean's hand and back at the car as it started to drive towards them, they both heard you scream as it drove.

Dean and Sam ran away from the car, jumping off the bridge. It stopped driving as they jumped off. Sam, even though he jumped off, he grabbed onto the bridge. Sam climbed and sat on the edge, looking down at the running water below.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam yelled, seeing Dean crawling out of the water and lying down on his back. "What?" Dean yelled back, Sam smiled. "Hey, are you alright?" Sam asked.

"I'm super." Dean says, laying there for a while. Sam laughed, going over the rails and saw you standing just outside the car. Sam walked over to you, "hey, are you okay?" He asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

Sam saw you jump in surprise, but relaxed once you saw it was him. "Where's my dad?" You asked, looking up at him. "He's down by the water, he's coming." Sam answered, as you climbed onto the hood of the car.

"Did the ghost do that to the car?" You asked, looking at Sam. "Yeah," Sam replied, standing next to you. It was five minutes before Sam heard Dean walking over to the both of you.

"Y/n, thank god." Dean says, Sam looked at you, seeing your nose scrunching. "Are you okay?" Dean asks, walking closer to you, but you hid behind Sam. "Yeah, I'm okay." You say from behind Sam.

Sam laughed, "what are you doing, bug?" Dean asked, trying to look at you. "You stink." You say, again, from behind Sam, peaking at your dad, smiling. You jumped down from the car, going back inside, Sam walking besides you.

Dean shook his head, going to look over his car, opening the hood of it. "Car all right?" Sam asked, walking over to Dean, as he closed it. "Yeah. Whatever she did to it, seems all right now." Dean answers, standing in front of the car, Sam nodded his head.

"That Constance chick, what a bitch!" Dean yelled, "well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Sam says, he and Dean sitting on the hood of the car.

"So, where's the trail go from here, genius?" Sam asked, Dean threw his hands up, shrugging. Sam, finally noticing the stench coming off of Dean, looking at him.

"Y/n's right, you smell like a toilet." Sam said, looking at Dean. Dean looked down at himself, he did smell.

Dean found a motel as the sun came up. You stayed in the car while he and Sam went to go check in.

"One room, please." Dean says, the man grabbed the credit card Dean put on the counter. "You guys having a reunion or somethin'?" He asked, looking up from the card and then at him and Sam.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, "that other guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month." He answered, Dean nodded his head, looking at Sam.

Both of them walked out and headed towards the room their dad paid for, after asking which room it was.

Sam picked the lock, while Dean stood behind him, looking around. Sam opened the door, walking inside, looking behind himself and saw Dean still standing there. Sam grabbed Dean's jacket and pulled him inside.

Sam closed the door once Dean was inside, still holding onto him. They both looked around the room, "whoa." Sam said, Dean walked over to a lamp and turned it on.

Dean grabbed a hamburger that was on the nightstand and smelt it, he groaned, putting it back on the nightstand. "I don't think he's been here for a couple of days, at least." Dean says, looking at Sam.

Sam was crouching down, looking at the salt around the bed. "Salt. Cat's eye shells. He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in." Sam says, standing up, looking at Dean.

Dean walked over to the wall, looking at the papers their dad hung up. "What do you got here?" Sam asked, walking over to Dean. "Centennial Highway victims." Dean answers, still looking at the papers.

"I don't get it. They're different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities... there's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?" Dean asked, as Sam walked over to the other side of the room.

Sam turned on another lamp, "huh. Dad figured it out." Sam said, staring at the papers. Dean looked at him, "what do you mean?" He asked, "he found the same article we did.

Constance Welch. She's a 'Woman In White'." Sam answers, looking at Dean, while he looked back at the wall in front of him. "You sly dogs. Alright, so, if we're dealing with a 'Woman In White', dad would have

found the corpse and destroyed it." Dean says, looking back at Sam. Sam looked at the papers in front of him, "she might have another weakness." He said, nodding his head.

"No, dad would wanna make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?" Dean says, walking over to Sam, standing by him. "No. Not that I can tell. If I were dad, though, I'd go ask her husband.

If he's still alive." Sam says, "hmm." Dean said, "alright. Why don't you go see if you can find an address and get Y/n from the Car. I'm gonna get cleaned up." Dean says, "hey, Dean. What I said earlier, about mom and dad, I'm sorry..." Sam starts to say, but Dean held up a hand to stop him.

"No chick flick moments." Dean interrupts, Sam laughed, "all right, jerk." Sam says, nodding his head. "Bitch." Dean replied, heading into the bathroom.

Sam chuckled, walking towards a mirror and grabbing a picture of his dad, Dean and him, smiling at it.

Sam went out the door, to go get you and Dean's bag so he can change into different clothes.

Sam and you walked into the room, Sam saw you head straight for the bed and immediately going to sleep.

Sam laughed, walking towards the bathroom and putting Dean's bag inside by the door, closing it and walking back towards the bed, sitting down.

As Sam was listening to his voicemail, Dean walked out of the bathroom. "Hey, man, I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner and also grab Y/n something to eat as well." Dean says, grabbing his jacket.

"You want anything?" Dean asked, "no," Sam answered, looking at Dean. "Aframian's buying." Dean said, standing by the door. "Uh-uh." Sam said, Dean looked at you and walked out the door.

Putting on his jacket, Dean looked to his right, seeing the cops from yesterday and the guy from check-in, pointing at Dean.

Dean turned, grabbing his phone out of his pocket, calling Sam. "What?" Sam answered, "dude, five-o. Take off." Dean says, "what about you?" Sam asked, "uh, they kind of spotted me.

Go find dad." Dean said, hanging up the phone. Dean turned around, looking at the cops. "Problem, officers?" Dean asked, smiling at them. "Where's your partner?" One of them asked, crossing his arms.

"Partner, what... What Partner?" Dean asked, stalling them.

Sam woke you up, looking out the window as a police officer walked over to the room.

"Come on, sweetheart." Sam says, both of you heading into the bathroom and out the window.

Both Sam and you walked around and headed straight for the impala. Sam opened the door for you and closed it once you were inside. Sam went over to the drivers side and started the car, driving away.

"Where's my dad?" Sam heard you ask tiredly, "uh, about that. It might be a while before we see him again." Sam answers, looking at you through the mirror.

"Can we go somewhere and eat?" You asked again, "I'm hungry." You added, "Yeah, sure." Sam says, going to the diner that Dean was supposed to go to.

Sam parked, both of you getting out the car and walked into the diner. Both of you walked towards an empty booth, a waitress walked over to you guys and handed both of you menus.

"Hi, what's your name cutie?" She asks, smiling at you. Sam saw you smiling nervously at her, "Y/n." You answer, looking at Sam and back at her. The waitress looked at Sam.

"She yours?" She asked, "oh, no. No, she's my niece." Sam says, "hey, uncle Sam. Can we order now?" You asked, Sam looked at you. "Yeah, sweetheart." Sam says, "what do you want?" He asked, you smiled.

"French toast, please?" You asked politely, looking up at the waitress. She nodded her head, looking at Sam. "Same for me." Sam says, grabbing the menu from you and handing both of them to the waitress.

"Okay, you want anything to drink?" She asked, grabbing the menus. "Apple juice, please?" Sam hears you say, "water for me, thanks." Sam said to her, "alright." The waitress said, walking away.

After you both ate, Sam and you were driving around town. Sam was asking around for Joseph Welch.

Sam parked, once he found out where Joseph Welch lived. Sam turned to look at you, seeing you laying down and reading another comic book.

Sam got out of the car and headed straight for the door, knocking on it. A man answered the door, "hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?" Sam asked, "yeah." He answered, walking out the door.

"Did this guy, come over and ask you a few questions?" Sam questioned, both of them walking, Sam handed him a picture. "Yeah. He was older, but that's him." Joseph says, handing back the picture.

"Came by here three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter." He added, "that's right. We're working on a story together." Sam said, nodding at him. "Well, I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on.

The questions he asked me." Joseph says, looking at Sam. "About your late wife, Constance." Sam says, "he asked me where she was buried." Joseph says, "and where is that again?" Sam asked.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?" He asked, "it's fact-checking." Sam says, "if you don't mind." He added.

"In a plot behind my old place, over on Breckenridge." Joseph says, "and why did you move?" Sam continued to ask, "I'm not gonna live in the house my children died." Joseph admitted, he stopped walking, looking at Sam.

Sam stopped walking as well, looking back at Joseph. "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" Sam asks, "no, way. Constance, she was the love of my life." Joseph replied, shaking his head.

"Prettiest woman I ever know." He added, "so, you had a happy marriage?" Sam asked, nodding his head. "Definitely." Joseph answered hesitantly, Sam sighed. "Well, that should do it.

Thanks for your time." Sam says, walking towards Dean's car. Sam looked at the keys in his hands in thought, looking up. "Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a 'Woman In White'?" Sam asked, looking over at Joseph.

Joseph turned to look at Sam. "A what?" Joseph asked, "a 'Woman In White'. Or sometimes 'Weeping Woman'?" Sam repeated, "it's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.

Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years. Dozens of places: In Hawaii, Mexico, lately, in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand, but all share the same story." Sam explains, walking over to Joseph.

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." Joseph says, turning to walk away. "See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these woman, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.

Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him.

And that man is never seen again." Sam added, "you think... that has something to do with Constance, you smart-ass?" Joseph asked angrily, "you tell me." Sam says, "I mean, maybe.. Maybe I made some mistakes

But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell outta here. And you don't come back." Joseph said, looking at Sam, before walking away.

Sam sighed, watching him walk away. Sam got into the car and drove away, calling the police station and faking a call.

A few hours of driving around, Sam headed towards Breckenridge.

Sam answered his phone, "fake 911 phone call, Sammy? I don't know, that's pretty illegal." Sam heard Dean say, "you're welcome." Sam says, smiling. "Listen, we gotta talk." Dean says.

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a 'Woman In White', and she's buried behind her old house, so that would have been dad's next stop..." Sam says, "Sammy, would shut up for a second?" Dean asked, interrupting him.

"I can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet." Sam added, "that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean said, "what? How do you know that?" Sam asked, glancing at you in the mirror.

"I've got his journal." Dean answered, "he doesn't go anywhere without that thing." Sam says, focusing back and forth from the road and the side of the road.

"Yeah, well, he did this time." Dean says, "what's it say?" Sam questioned, "ah, that same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going." Dean replied.

"Coordinates. Where to?" Sam asked again, "I'm not sure yet." Dean answers, "I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that dad would just skip out in the middle of a job?

Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam asked, "whoa!" He gasped, stepping on the brakes and dropping the phone. "Sam? Sam, are you guys okay? Sam!" Dean yells on the phone.

The car stopped, Sam looked at the road in front of him, breathing heavily. "Uh. Uncle Sam?" Sam heard you ask, he turned to look at you.

Sam saw you looking at a woman sitting next to you, she looked at you and then at Sam. "Take me home." Was all she said, Sam and you didn't respond to her for a while.

"Take me home." She repeated firmly, "no." Sam says, looking at her through the mirror. She squinted her eyes at him, locking the doors and started to drive the car.

Sam tried to open the doors and windows, then he tried to get control of the steering wheel, but it was no use. Sam sighed, sitting back against his seat.

The car parked outside an abandoned house, "don't do this." Sam says, looking at her through the mirror again. "I can never go home." She says, despair in her voice, looking at the house.

"You're scared to go home." Sam says, turning to look at her, but she was gone when he turned around, looking at where she was sitting and then at you.

Sam turned back forward, looking out the door and then at the passenger side, seeing her again. She was moving closer to Sam and placing herself on his lap.

"Hold me, I'm so cold." She said, "you can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful." Sam says, "I've never been." He added, closing his eyes, trying to move away from her touch.

She leaned towards his ear, "you will be. Just hold me." She says, before kissing him. She sat up and disappeared. Sam looked around, seeing you had your eyes covered, sitting on the seat with your back against the door.

Sam screamed in pain, unzipping his sweater and looked at his chest, seeing her fingers in his chest as she reappeared, disfigured. Sam screamed in pain, while you screamed in fear.

You both heard gun shots and glass breaking, Sam looked out the broken window, seeing Dean aiming his gun at the window still. Dean shot again, Sam sat up, "I'm taking you home." Sam said, driving the car straight into the house.

Dean's eyes widen seeing the car go straight into the house and heard you stop screaming. "Sam!" Dean yelled, Sam stopped the car. "Sam?" Dean asked, "here." Sam answers, groaning in pain.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, walking towards your door, seeing you leaning against the seat, unconscious. "Hey, bug, are you okay?" Dean asked as he opened the door looking over you.

You had a cut on your right side of your forehead, other than that, you were fine, unconscious, but fine as Dean can tell. Dean lied you down, leaving you in the car.

"Sam are you okay?" Dean asked, going out the car and going to the front passenger side to help Sam out. "Yeah, I'm fine. I think, is she okay?" Sam answered, looking at you and then at Dean who opened the door, "can you move?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Help me." Sam replied, Dean helped him out of the car. "There you go." Dean said, both of them standing by the car, seeing Constance holding a picture frame.

She looked up from the frame, looking at the both of them angrily, throwing the picture frame down and pushing a dresser in front of them, they both groaned, trying to push the dresser away from them.

The lights flickered and Constance looked towards the stairs, water was coming down. She went over by the bottom of the stairs, seeing her children. "You've come home to us, mommy." They both say, going by her side and hugging her.

Constance screamed, the three of them dissolving into a puddle.

Dean and Sam watched their interaction, before looking at each other and finally pushing the dresser down and away from them. Both of them walking over to where Constance and her kids were not ten seconds ago.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Dean says, sighing. "That's why she could never go home." Sam said, "she was too scared to face 'em." He added, smiling at Dean.

"Found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." Dean says, patting Sam on his chest, Sam laughed in pain, "yeah, I wish I could say the same for you." Sam says looking at Dean. "What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?" Sam asks, Dean turned to look at him.

"Hey. Saved your ass." Dean says. pointing at Sam. Dean bent down, inspecting his car. "And I'll tell you another thing; if you screwed up my car, I'll kill you." Dean stated, looking at Sam.

Dean drove, AC/DC's Highway To Hell was playing. Sam was looking at a map, trying to find where the coordinates lead to.

"Okay, here's where dad went. It's called Black Water Ridge, Colorado." Sam says, Dean nodded his head. "Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked, glancing at the map.

"About 600 miles." Sam answered, "if we shag ass, we can make it by morning." Dean said hopefully, looking at Sam. Sam looked up from the map and then at Dean.

"Dean, I..." Sam says, "you're not going." Dean says, "the interview's in, like ten hours. I gotta be there." Sam stated, Dean sighs quietly, nodding his head. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home." Dean said, focusing back on the road.

After hours of driving, Dean parked in front of Sam's building. Sam got out, leaning against the open window. "You'll call me if you find him?" He asked, Dean nodded his head.

"Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam asks, smiling. "Yeah, all right." Dean replies, "bye, uncle Sammy." Sam turned to look at you, "bye, sweetheart." He says, smiling at you.

Sam stood up straight, walking towards his building. Dean started the car, "Sam." Dean says, looking out the window. Sam turned and looked at Dean, "you know, we made one hell of a team back there." Dean said, "yeah." Sam replied.

Dean looked away and started driving. Sam watched the car, sighing.

Dean drove around the building, wanting to check on Sam, he looked at you after parking the car again. "Stay here, alright?" Dean said, "okay." You say as Dean got out of the car and ran up towards Sam's apartment.

Dean kicked the door open, "Sam!" Dean yelled, running towards the bedroom. Dean saw Sam laying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, while the room was on fire. Dean looked up, seeing Sam's girlfriend on the ceiling.

"Sam! Sam!" Dean yelled at him, "Jess!" Sam yells, Dean walked over to him and pulled him up from the bed, pushing Sam out the door. "No! No, Jess!" Sam yells over Dean's shoulder, looking at the ceiling.

"We gotta get out!" Dean yells, still pushing Sam out the door, while he kept yelling for his girlfriend.

Sam stood behind the impala, the trunk open, while firefighters put out the fire. Dean walked over to him.

Dean looked at Sam, "hey, are you okay?" He asked, Sam nodded his head, throwing a gun back into the trunk.

"We've got work to do." Sam said, closing the trunk and walked towards the passenger side. Dean got in and drove away.

You guys stayed there for a few days longer before Dean decided to check out the coordinates their dad left behind for him.

Tag List: @snobunns

#Supernatural Imagine #Supernatural Fanfiction #Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader #Sam Winchester X Niece!Reader #Blind-Sided Part 1 #another part?? lmk pls #my fanfic writing

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