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drunk-on-dk · 11 months ago

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Strawberry Wine, Stained Lips | Lee Seokmin (M)

This fic is for the Cupid for You collaboration with @svthub, please be sure to go give all the fics and writers some love this Valentine's Day

pairing: Lee Seokmin x fem!reader genre/tags: fluff, smut, established relationship, boyfriend!seokmin, Valentine's Day centric rating: 18+ (minors & ageless blogs do NOT read/interact) w/c: ~5.6k warnings: mentions of alcohol (wine tasting), SMUT (nsfw warnings under the cut), pet names (kitten, love), some wine tasting inaccuracies but bear with me it's for the plot, pretty much pwp, no specific pronouns used but mentions of fem!anatomy & wears a bra

Summary: Your boyfriend decided to surprise you with a surprise getaway to a winery for your first shared Valentine's day. Seokmin isn't sure if it's the effect of the sweet wine or your honeyed smile, but he's found himself utterly infatuated with you.

A/N: this fic is for the lovely Indi (@wongyuseokie) who put together this wonderful Cupid for You @svthub collab. I know it isn't much of a surprise, but I hope you love this fic. Thank you for everything you did for this collab, and I am so excited to brainrot over DK with you after this fic.

nsfw warnings: protected sex (woohoo!), flavored condoms, switch!seokmin, switch!reader, both might be obsessed with each others thighs, oral (fem & male receiving), fingering, lots of kissing!, love bites, some overstimulation, lots of praise, aftercare!, may have gotten carried away with the smut! (this is literally half plot half smut)

“We’ve arrived, my love,” Seokmin announces, softly tugging at the blindfold blocking your vision and waking you from your half-asleep daze. He had placed the delicate fabric over your eyes before you even had the chance to ask where he was taking you for your first Valentine’s Day together. Much to your dismay, Seokmin refused to share any hints about the surprise, and it had been a relatively long car ride to your destination. Eventually, you found yourself dozing off to the comforting sound of him humming along to the music in the driver’s seat.

It was hard to not giggle as his shaky fingers worked at the flimsy piece of fabric, featherlight touches tickling your nose and cheeks. His own chuckle mixes melodiously with yours, knowing it’s unlike him to be so nervous around you. However, before you even had the chance to see him, you could sense the million-watt smile that buzzed from your boyfriend as he pulled in and announced the arrival to the much-anticipated surprise destination.

As expected, Seokmin was smiling ear to ear, eyes scrunched up in delight as you acclimated to the sudden re-exposure of light, cooing at the way your nose scrunched whilst your vision adjusted. Blinking a couple of times, you peered out the car window as he anxiously awaited your reaction.

It took a few silent beats before you practically leaped out of your seat, your purse flying off your lap as you turned dramatically toward Seokmin with a thrilled expression. His eyes immediately light up knowing that he’s done well so far.

“No way, Seok! This is beautiful,” you gasp, unable to contain your own excitement as you take in your surroundings. A slowly setting sun illuminates a vineyard before you, golden hues lighting the field from where you are parked, and a beautiful estate property is located adjacent to the lot. Your whole body is warm at the sight and the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend. “Please tell me that we’re here for a wine tasting? It’s not fair to mess with me like this, if not.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he beams, hands intertwining with yours before bringing one up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I wanted to make our first Valentine’s Day together special. We also have a couple’s suite in the vineyard’s hotel down the road.”

You almost melt in your seat from how considerate the day was that he planned. It actually takes all the energy in you to not scream your excitement to the world. You two had only been dating for a few months now, but Seokmin has treated you better than any of your other partners had before.

A shy smile crept onto your face, your own body shaking in elation now that you finally knew more about the night ahead of you. You have to refrain from throwing yourself across the dashboard, grabbing his cheeks between both your hands, and pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

Nonetheless, you do find yourself leaning over the front glove compartment, pressing a multitude of kisses to your boyfriend’s cheek. He receives your affection gratefully, turning his head oh-so-slightly to capture your lips with his, and you delightfully hum into the plushness of his lips.

Seokmin knows he better move before you really have the chance to pounce on him, fearing that you two may never make it to the wine-tasting if he doesn’t stop you in your tracks. He pulls away tentatively, motioning that it’s time to leave the car. “C’mon, we have a wine tasting to get to.”

You can’t help but squeal, grabbing your purse and following him towards the estate after he opens the passenger door for you. Seokmin chuckles when he hears you mutter a quiet ‘pinch me, I must be dreaming’ in response.

“Good Evening, Mr. Lee and Miss. Y/L/N. We are delighted to have you join us for a tasting of our most valued Valentine’s collection,” the vineyard’s wine ambassador greets you both as you approach the venue, pausing when the two of you politely return his greetings before continuing his spiel. “As you may not know yet, the Cupid Estate is known for its historic collection of wines, and only the most coveted reserved wines are provided as selections on Valentine’s Day. Are you ready to join us and learn about some of our wines?”

“I have never been more ready for something in my life,” you’re quick to agree. Seokmin gives your hand a slight squeeze as you look up at him, eagerness clear in your eyes as you follow the ambassador to your seating area. Seokmin is so endeared by the enthusiasm that radiates from your entire being, already feeling successful with his plans for the night together.

Your ambassador leads you to a tasting area located on one of the balconies of the estate. It's a surprisingly warm area with multiple heat lamps to keep visitors comfortable despite the cool February air, and there is nothing that blocks the stunning view of the vineyard that runs as far as the eye can see. You note that a few other couples are spaced out across the expanse of the large balcony and it warms your heart to be here with Seokmin - who still has yet to let go of your hand.

The Valentine’s reserve collection is lined up before you, your ambassador noting that the rich red wine is already pre-opened to allow for the wine to breathe for the best tasting experience. You notice a few treats laid out before you as well; some cheeses, chocolates, strawberries, and other various pairing foods.

Your host works expertly to finish setting things up as you lean over to Seokmin, trying to keep your voice low as you share your continued excitement to be at a wine tasting, “there are pairing snacks! This is the real deal, Seokmin.”

“Which do you think will be your favorite?” Seokmin chimes, entertaining the way your eyes dart between each bottle of wine. His thumb continues to gently caress your knuckles, he almost pulls away to allow you to fully take in the spread before you, but you’re quick to recapture his hand.

“Mmm,” you seem to be in deep thought, gnawing gently on your lip as you survey the options. “Maybe the Pinot or Merlot with the chocolate? I do like the look of those fresh strawberries, though,” another pause as you ponder, and Seokmin has to hold back a chortle when you settle with a shrug, “I guess whatever wine will taste the best in the end.”

Seokmin’s eyes are dreamy as he watches you observe your surroundings. Your own eyes are wide as saucers as your ambassador finishes setting up the area before you, turning your head to stun Seokmin with that smile he’s been fond of since he first met you.

“Alright, lovebirds,” your ambassador claps with a knowing look on his face, gaining attention back on him as he holds up the first wine, extravagantly displaying the bottle before pouring a small serving into both of your glasses.

“While this is a heavier wine tasting with mostly reds, we will be starting off with a rosé to wake up your taste buds. You can expect some notes of raspberry, some florals, and you might notice some herbal hints.” He beckons for you and Seokmin to pick up your glasses, urging you to observe the light pink color of the wine. “Please do note that this is a light-medium-bodied rosé, giving it the delightful pink color you see before you.”

You follow as Seokmin holds the wine up to his nose, breathing in the scent of the wine at the same time you do. It’s enough to make you shiver, skin prickling as your cheeks warm from the smell of the wine alone. Seokmin takes a sip, which you follow yet again, savoring the way the flavor of the light wine bursts on your tongue.

“Wow,” Seokmin practically belts out, his well-maintained composure faltering for a second to reveal the true goofiness of your boyfriend. You do earn a couple of looks from neighboring couples due to his sudden outburst. “That is delightful.”

You nod, giggling and agreeing, used to how loud Seokmin can truly get when he’s enthusiastic, and continue with the tasting. “What do you suggest we pair with the rosé?”

“I’d recommend one of the cheeses placed before you,” the ambassador holds a plate out for you and Seokmin to grab a piece, basking in the explosion of flavors as you take another sip and nibble on the cheese.

The ambassador allows you two to enjoy the rosé a bit longer, conversing on the flavor profile and asking a few more questions about the history of the wine before deciding to proceed.

The next wine presented to your table is an iconic Zinfandel that has been a popular blend at the Cupid Estate for the past few years. It’s an aromatic wine that makes your ears run a bit hot. The wine also makes your heart pound a bit faster when you look at Seokmin, who hasn’t stopped praising the wine even though you’re only two tastings in, and he’s looking undeniably handsome in the setting golden hour hue.

Following the Zinfandel, a robust Pinot Noir is poured for you two. Your ambassador recommends trying the strawberries and chocolate with the wine, as you had previously mentioned. The flavor is absolutely delightful, and at this rate, this wine will likely be your favorite.

A Merlot is poured before the finale. You’re not sure if it’s the wine or if it’s Seokmin’s touches that set your body alight, your eyes wandering to his hand that now gently massages your thigh as your ambassador describes the wine. You know it’s supposed to be a soothing action, more innocent than how scandalous it’s making you feel, so you ultimately blame the wine for the sudden throbbing in your core where Seokmin’s hand lays closest.

Finally, the tasting ends with a Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s noted that this wine has been aged for years and is imported from a sister winery for this collection specifically. It’s full-bodied and a bit heavier than the Pinot and Merlot, and you’re glad to end the tasting with a special reserved wine.

Admittedly, you’re glad the tasting was coming to an end overall. As much as you’ve enjoyed it, you’ve become hyper-aware of the cherry hue to Seokmin’s lips and how stunning his features look under the moonlight and dim lighting of the estate, the sun setting long ago. You sigh dreamily, enjoying another sip of the Cabernet, realizing just how romantic this short Valentine’s Day getaway is with Seokmin.

When the tasting is over, your ambassador asks if you have any favorites. It’s an easy answer, the reserve Pinot Noir had won your heart, and Seokmin agreed without hesitation.

“Please enjoy this complimentary bottle on us,” the ambassador chimes, providing the Pinot Noir in a gift box wrapped beautifully with the estate’s branding.

Seokmin is quick to express his gratitude, but you’re both weary to accept such a pricey bottle of wine. “We can pay, I really do not mind. The service was wonderful tonight.”

The ambassador shakes his head, stressing that he is more than happy to provide it as a gift. “It’s not every day that I get to serve our finest of wines to such a lovely couple. Please take this as a token of appreciation for enjoying our wines, but also for being such a lovely pair to serve this whole night. Plus, don’t forget that Pinot serves as a wonderful aphrodisiac.”

You both oblige, continuing to express your gratitude, but your jaw drops at the aphrodisiac factoid. You’re stunned when the ambassador winks before lightly cleaning up and leaving you two alone.

“Thank you, Seok,” you coo, staring out into the night sky before turning to face him. He’s looking at you so lovingly that you practically turn into mush in your seat.

“Anything for you,” he responds softly, his hand finding home yet again on your thigh.

You feel the need to lighten the mood, the air suddenly feeling heavy around you as the tension seemingly grows thicker between you two. You lean over, motioning for him to come closer as you jokingly whisper, “Was that man who served us wine cupid? Truly, who was he?”

“You know what? You make a good point,” Seokmin’s smile falls a bit lopsided, and you’re not ready for whatever comment he has to make next. The wine has made him a bit loose-lipped since the ambassador left, and he’s becoming touchier and touchier by the minute. “I think Cupid shot me in the ass because I fell head over heels for you.”

You almost roll your eyes, laughing that he’s even entertaining your question, but then they almost bulge out of your head at the admission instead, “You’re head over heels for me?”

“Is that what I said?” He motions to himself incredulously, looking around in a manner as if saying ‘Did anyone else hear what I said? This person is crazy.’

“I think I heard something along the lines that Cupid,” you nod your head discreetly towards the ambassador who continues to serve fellow couples, “may have shot you in the ass,” you chuckle at the way he continues to avoid eye contact, “and that you fell head over heels for me.”

“Hm,” Seokmin ponders, a blush running up his neck all the way to his ears. It’s so damn endearing that you yet again have to restrain yourself from showering him with even more kisses. “It may have been something along those lines.”

“I love you, Seokmin,” you beam, loving the way his eyes dart towards you, clearly stunned that you’re the first one to confess your feelings, but still absolutely delightfully gobsmacked. “This has truly been the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“And I love you,” he breathes out, large hands massaging your thigh as if his words aren’t enough to display his feelings. “So damn much, kitten.”

His actions and words make your thighs press impossibly tighter against each other, which does not go unnoticed under his intense gaze. His eyes darken upon noticing how you tremble under his touch. “What do you say we go check into our suite? Share our sentiments even more?”

You were barely inside the suite before his lips were brutally attached to yours, back pressed against the front door, and complimentary wine bottle dismissed on the entry console. Seokmin’s hands were everywhere as he drank you in entirely as if you were a glass of his favorite wine from the day instead of that damn Pinot Noir.

Admittedly, he was addicted. He’s been addicted to you ever since he first laid eyes on you months ago and he just can’t get enough.

His long fingers find home in your hair, woven between the strands before traveling down your neck, running over the small of your back, and settling on your ass. Seokmin gives you a teasing squeeze, pulling a soft moan from you that allows him to kiss you even deeper, his tongue dominating yours successfully.

He tasted of the wine you two shared just hours ago, but it was even sweeter when it came from his lips. Even though you weren’t necessarily buzzed from the tasting, you were convinced you could get drunk just from his kisses and touches alone.

“Seokmin,” you whimper, giggling softly as he nibbles at your bottom lip, the residue taste of wine seeping from his lips to yours. “You still taste like that Pinot.”

“Is that a bad or a good thing?” He snickers against your mouth, panting heavily before pulling back slightly to observe the swell and stained red color of your lips. He’s sure his lips look reminiscent of yours.

“So good,” you keen, hips rolling against his as his hands continue to knead at the flesh of your ass. You don’t even care that you’re already so needy for him, you’re absolutely shameless when he’s the one taking care of you. “Need more of you.”

“Take it slow, kitten,” the name runs chills down your spine, and when Seokmin slots his thigh between your legs, you almost yelp at the contact of the muscle against your hot heat. “We have all night, don’t we?”

The delicious friction of his muscle against your clothed core coaxes you to roll your hips against his thigh, addicted to the way his muscle flexes with each jolt of pleasure through your body.

“All night,” you parrot quietly, the words barely audible, and head lolling to the side as his lips make their way down your neck. He’s claiming you with each nibble of your delicate skin, sure to leave faint marks on your collarbone.

Seokmin’s hands are gripping your hips, guiding your motions as you languidly roll against his thigh. “So warm,” he breathes into your neck, his breath tickling your ear and his raspy voice shortfunctions your brain. “I bet you’re soaked for me, kitten, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you moan, almost painfully as you aggressively keen into him, his grip brutal on your hips in an attempt to slow you down as you chase your ebbing high. Occasionally, you can feel his erection trapped beneath his tight pants, knowing that he must be as desperate as you, but doing a better job at hiding it.

You think you could cry, your clit is throbbing from the friction against his thigh, but it’s not enough to get you to your release, even when he’s talking so dirty to you. You’re growing uncomfortable, your underwear feeling damp and you’re positive you’ve left a wet mark on Seokmin’s pants at this point.

You’re desperate, hands clawing at his pristine button-up in an attempt to speed up the process. Seokmin isn’t one to tease, but he sure seems to want to take his time with you tonight. Thankfully, he allows you to peel his clothing off, assisting with your clothing as well, mutually undressing each other between wet kisses until you’re both left in your undergarments.

Unfortunately, this means Seokmin’s thigh is no longer slotted between your legs, your underwear, and the slick between your thighs exposing just how needy you are for your boyfriend.

“Fuck,” Seokmin groans lowly, drinking you in for the nth time tonight, brain and hormones running rampant upon seeing you stripped down to your lacey bra and panties. His voice is rapsy before he lifts you into his arm, gasping when you feel his hardness pressed directly against your core even if it’s contained by his black briefs, and carrying you over to the plush bed. “You’re all mine.”

Seokmin drops you gently onto the bed as if you’re his greatest treasure (which you might just be if you were to ask him). He’s quick to dive into you, lithe fingers running along your inner thigh and lips leaving a hot trail down your neck to the valley between your chest.

“Please,” you beg, nipples perking up and skin prickling when his lips run over the lace of your bra, his hot breath making the delicate fabric feel bothersome and sticky on your skin.

“Please what, kitten?” Seokmin’s hand is dangerously close to your core, tongue tracing circles around the area where your nipple is trapped under your bra. “You have to tell me what you want. I’ll do whatever it is.”

“Touch me,” you almost wail out, choking on your words when two fingers press firmly against your core right where your clit is.

“Oh,” he coos, almost sympathetically, peering up at you between your breasts to see your reaction as he teasingly rubs small circles over your clit. “You are soaked for me, what a good kitten.”

Seokmin has you trapped beneath him, spit staining the fabric of your bra and fingers rubbing lewdly against your soaked panties. “Not enough, Seok,” you whine, needing just a bit more.

“Since you’ve been so good,” he sighs, the hand that has been providing support snakes behind your back, expertly unsnapping your bra and releasing your breast for his viewing. The other hand that has been working at your core hooks your underwear, peeling it off of you without any trouble and discarding it on the floor.

His lips are back on your nipple, this time feeling the full sensation as he nips at the peak, making your back arch perfectly in time as two of his fingers line up with your hole. He dips them in shallowly before sinking in deeper, your walls clamping tightly around his digits.

“My love,” Seokmin groans, his two fingers pumping in and out of your heat, shocked at just how tight you are and loving the way your chest rises and falls from how worked up he already has you. “You are so tight, even when it’s only two fingers. How are you going to take me?”

You don’t even have a response, releasing a moan as his fingers curl and scissor inside of you. “P-Please, add another, I can take it.”

“Of course you can, kitten,” he chuckles, lips reattaching with yours and adding a third finger. He loves the way you moan into his mouth, capture all your pretty cries and pleas. “Doing so good for me,” he rasps, pumping his fingers in and out of your pulsing walls until he feels your thighs start to sake.

“C’mon,” he coaxes, knowing you’re close to release and curling his fingers expertly inside of you. Your fingernails are digging into his back, surely leaving a trace as your whole body trembles and shakes with pleasure. You’re not even kissing him at this point, your mouth sloppily against his as you pant and listen to his guiding words. “You can do it, kitten. Cum for me.”

You release a loud moan, the firey-hot rubber band snapping inside of you as you gush around his fingers, his lips recapturing yours for another passionate kiss as you come down from your high. Seokmin lets you ride it out on his fingers for a bit longer until he pulls them out leaving you feeling incredibly empty.

Seokmin thought you’d be spent after this, and he’s shocked when you gather enough strength, flipping him over and straddling his thighs, kissing him one last time before you climb off of him. He chuckles incredulously when your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his briefs, pulling the fabric down his thighs and off of him completely, revealing his hardened length.

You practically drool when his large cock springs up, pink tip dripping with pre-cum. It’s tempting enough that you slide between his legs, cock twitching as you get closer, running a kitten lick down the slit of his tip and swallowing his essence without hesitation.

His hand darts to your hair, pulling you back up to his mouth rather than his cock. He growls when your sopping core comes into contact with his length, noticing the way you slot the tip of his cock strategically between your folds. “I don’t think so, kitten, tonight is about you.”

You indulge him for a while, engaging in a passionate kiss whilst grinding into him, loving the way his length runs between your folds so easily and jolting every time his tip brushes against your clit.

“Seok,” you break the kiss, feeling overwhelmed and absolutely drunk off his kisses, ready to give in and sink down on his cock. However, you’re reminded you need protection. “S-Seok, do you have any condoms?”

“Fuck, thank you for reminding me,” Seokmin huffs, nose tucked into your neck when he remembers another surprise for you. He sits up, keeping you on his lap and letting you run kisses down his jawline to his chin, frustrated when he can’t reach his wallet on the nightstand next to you.

When he finally does, you’re head lolls back in laughter at his second surprise of the night, so far that he has to wrap an arm around your lower back to keep you from falling off the bed.

You’re stunned to see he’s pulled two condoms out of his wallet, both with illustrations of treats that you had just tasted earlier in the day with your wine, “are those what I think they are?”

“I was just thinking,” he hums, eyes crinkled in amusement as he holds the two wrappers before you. “What about strawberry or chocolate-flavored condoms instead?”

You giggle, grabbing and holding the square wrappers in your hand, a devious glint in your eyes as you reposition yourself on his lap. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Seok,” and you’re quick to dismount him yet again, falling to your knees beneath his thighs yet again as you contemplate your choices.

It seems like a hard decision for you, Seokmin could almost burst as he watches you consider your options, your plump bottom lip between your teeth and looking so beautiful between his legs.

“Let’s try strawberry,” you decide, opening the wrapper and swiftly rolling the condom onto his length. “Can I try a taste?”

“Of course,” Seokmin groans, eyes full of lust when your tongue darts out, running from the base of his cock to the tip.

“So sweet,” you hum, lips closing around the tip and puckering at the sweetness of the artificial condom. “Just like a lollipop.”

“Fuck,” he’s panting at the way you kitten lick his length yet again, lips and tongue sucking teasingly at his length as if you’re savoring the flavor of him. It doesn’t help that the lubricant of the condom makes your plump red lips glisten even more. “So beautiful. You look so pretty like this, kitten.”

He only encourages you more, head slightly bobbing as you attempt to take more of him in until he pulls you off of him again. “Save some for me,” he demands, and you’re not quite sure what he means by that, but you allow him to pull you back up onto the bed.

Seokmin is back in control, his hips trapped between your thighs as he lines his tip up against your core. “Fuck,” he shudders, running his head between your folds and mixing your juices with the strawberry lubricant of the condom. “Still so fucking wet, all for me.”

“Of course,” you murmur, hips bucking when he teasingly dips his tip into your heat, prodding between your walls that so badly want to take him in. “All for you.”

“Can I fuck you now, love?” Seokmin sighs, loving the way you look so desperate beneath him, leaning over you to trap you under him yet again. One of his hands still guiding his length between you.

“P-Please,” you beg, and he’s not one to keep you waiting too long when you ask so nicely. Soon, he’s sinking into you until he bottoms out, filling you completely and wholly until you’re both groaning out in unison at the feeling.

“Always so tight for me,” he growls, chest pressed against yours as his hand darts out to your thigh, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist as he tests the waters, rocking his hips gently until he knows you’re ready to take his length.

“Fuck,” you cry out, losing yourself in the shallow thrusts of his hips. “And you’re so fucking big, Seok.”

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he coos, teeth nibbling on your jawline as he pulls out a bit further until thrusting into you a bit harder. A bit deeper. Enough to have you let out a silent cry, encouraging Seokmin and emboldening him as he begins to spear you with his cock.

He lays over you, rocking into you and bottom out with every plunge of his cock, hitting you perfectly. His support hand makes its way behind your neck, pulling your lips up to his as he continues with ministrations, and you feel a bit fuzzy when his other hand grips your thigh that’s wrapped around his waist. Almost as if the plush muscle is what his life depends on.

Your hands are everywhere, from his back to his hair to his ass, encouraging him to thrust into you faster and deeper.

Seokmin knows what you want, deciding to sit up straight so he can grip your hips, holding them firm as he picks up his pace. His thrusts are so deep and so hard that you let out a pathetic noise with each hit of the sensitive, spongey spot inside of you.

It’s absolutely lewd, the way your walls grip his cock so tightly that he can still feel the way they pulse around his cock, even with the barrier of the condom on. Your silky walls are like a vice, almost making it feel impossible for him to pull out, but nonetheless, he sets a brutal pace. The sounds of his hips connecting with yours are absolutely vulgar, mixed with his dirty praises and your incoherent pleas and cries.

Seokmin isn’t sure how much longer he can make it, not when you’re clawing for his biceps, eyes screwed shut and breasts bouncing with each thrust of his cock.

“So fucking beautiful,” he pants, nearing his end when he feels your walls throb, and he knows you are close to your second orgasm as well. “Taking me so well as usual.”

He knows he needs to help you out, fearing that he may finish before you at this rate, He falls over your chest yet again, thumb finding your clit between your two bodies as he encourages you to reach your high. “C’mon, look at me, Y/N. I wanna see your pretty face as you come undone.”

It’s hard, but you somehow manage to look at him, desperate eyes blown out as you near your high. Your thighs begin to shake around his waist, and he knows it’s the telltale sign that you’re near your end.

“That’s my pretty, kitten,” his voice is so low and raspy that you gasp, “cum for me, I want to feel you finish around my cock.”

That’s all you need, the pleasure shocking your body as your walls convulse around his length, and it’s the most mindblowing feeling as usual when Seokmin continues to fuck you through it all. However, his release follows not too long after as you ride through your high. The condom fills inside of you, your pulsing walls still milking him throughout his orgasm as you both come down from the overwhelming feeling.

You’re almost limp, drunk off his cock and pleasure, enough to not even notice as Seokmin pulls out of you, even though it’s admittedly a terribly empty feeling every time.

Seokmin shocks you yet again when his lips find their home between your legs, suckling at your clit and tasting your release. The overstimulation almost burns your entire being, but you can’t stop yourself from lazily rolling your hips toward his mouth as he licks and sucks at your heat.

“You taste so sweet,” he moans into your core, lapping up your juices and the residue strawberry flavor. “Always taste so sweet.”

You can barely speak, thighs closing tightly around his head and it doesn’t take long for you to release on his tongue.

Seokmin seems satisfied, realizing you’re fully fucked out when he can’t even get you to shower. He takes his time with aftercare, cleaning you up as best as he can and dressing you into your soft pajamas.

He assumes you are sound asleep by the time he joins you in bed, but is delightedly surprised to see your eyes flutter open, staring at him like he’s the best damn thing in the world.

Pulling you into his arms, he wraps you up and places a kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he mutters softly, making you smile shyly as you cuddle in closer. “I hope you enjoyed this Valentine’s Day.”

“It was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” your voice is raspy with sleep, he might think it’s the cutest thing ever (sexiest thing ever), but if he wasn’t cuddled up with you, he’d go run a couple of victory laps around the suite if he could. “I love you too, Seok.”

You fell asleep soon after, not having enough energy to watch a movie, but Seokmin didn’t mind. He found himself dozing off with a silly smile on his face, feeling accomplished that you admitted it was the best Valentine’s Day ever, but also that you both could so openly share your feelings now.

The drive home the next morning with Seokmin may have been one of your favorite parts of your brief surprise Valentine’s Day trip. The car ride was filled with fleeting, loving touches, your favorite sound of Seokmin’s voice singing or humming along with tunes from the radio, and you couldn’t forget the complimentary wine buckled in the backseat.

Of course, you find yourself lulling to sleep as Seokmin drives, dreaming that one day the special Pinot Noir from the Cupid Estate can be opened for another milestone event in your love story with Seokmin.

However, Seokmin has never been more shocked by you than when you arrived home, carrying all your belongings upstairs and pulling him in for another deep kiss. His jaw almost dropped when you pulled a familiar wrapper out of your purse, a devilish lilt to your voice as you asked, “What do you think about giving the chocolate condom a shot?”

Happy Valentine's Day, lovelies!

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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Sugar, Honey, Ice Tea | Chapter 5-9

1Summary: Fix-it-fic: Dr. Y/L/N and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Prison Violence, Assault, Blood, Depression, Murder, Self-Hatred, Hurt Spencer Reid, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Use, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Forbidden Love, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Requited Love, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, past abusive relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

Word Count: 14.3K

1-4, 5-9, Epilogue

Chapter 5

Spencer agreed to a Thursday night game night in her office sometime last week, and she’s spent every day since then planning it out for him.

Learning that he really loved Tandoori chicken, making it from scratch at home and packaging it into a couple containers to bring into work. She followed a recipe from Pinterest, hoping it bared any resemblance to what he was used to, only changing full chicken to boneless bite size cutlets, because he couldn’t use a knife in the prison.

She got a chess set at the store, as well as a deck of playing cards for the Vegas boy. Rushing out her door early Thursday morning so she could stop and get a coffee and one of his favourite doughnuts too.

Deciding that she wasn’t going to tell him how she felt any time soon, just wanting to show him friendship and support until he was finally out of prison. Vowing to uphold her oath, he was a patient in her care, she would care for him as such until he wasn’t.

She carefully placed her lunchbox and the chess set on the security desk, letting them look through it as she waited. Taking out all the food from her bag, looking through the plastic to ensure she wasn’t sneaking in anything.

“It’s just my lunch for the next 2 days, I promise,” she smiled.

“I know, but I have to look anyway,” the nice man smiled. “Have a good day today Dr. Pat.”

“Thank’s, you too, officer Kyle,” she smiled, picking her things back up and heading past the gates.

Spencer was turning the corner towards the infirmary as she walked towards the door. Officer Wilkins holding him in handcuffs as he roughly walked Spencer to her office.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she stopped, looking at Wilkins like he was an idiot. “Un-cuff inmate Reid, he’s not a threat. Plus, he can hold some things for me.”

“Whatever,” he huffed, roughly taking the cuffs off Spencer's wrists before leaving. Not saying another word.

“What a dick,” she mumbled as she handed him the lunchbox.

“Good morning Spencer,” she changed her tone to match her growing smile.

He sighed, smiling back as he rubbed his wrists. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”

She opened the infirmary door, walking past all the sleeping men in the care area. Unlocking her office before inviting Spencer in. “Sorry I was almost late,” she said softly, taking the chess set and a brown paper bag out of her purse.

She set it on Spencer's desk along with the coffee that was in her hand, “for all your help this week,” she smiled.

Spencer placed her lunchbox in her fridge, laying a hand on her back as he walked past her towards his desk. “You’re too kind to me,” he was bashful as always.

“I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” she closed the door softly, making sure the blinds on the doors window were closed as well.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he tried to joke as he sat down.

“I asked to help with your case, maybe give a fresh opinion, so Penelope sent me all the files but I haven’t opened them yet,” she sat on the edge of her desk. Trying to read his body language as he took out his donut.

He liked the pink frosting off his finger, nodding as he followed along. “Why not?”

“I wanted your permission,” she pressed her lips together in an awkward smiled. His eyes raising to meet hers, innocent as ever.

“Oh?”

“You’re very reserved, you have rules about what you share, I don’t want to break the trust we’ve built by looking into something so intimate,” she explained her thoughts. “It’s not fair for me to learn about the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, without you being the one to tell me.”

“What do you know already?” He asked softly, blinking at her as he patiently waited.

She smiled at him softly, grateful that he understood. “I know the 3 charges that you’re in on, and that you’re being framed.”

“I think I would prefer it if you read the file and just asked me questions. I don’t think I have the mental capacity to recite it all back to you today,” he was honest. Taking a sip of his coffee and looking away from her.

Giving up so much of himself to her so early in the day, she felt like he was finally comfortable with her.

She found the key to his thoughts and it opened just right, she could see the hurt that flowed through him, but she could also see the happiness. The side of him that he was afraid to bring out, in fear it would get him in more trouble.

“Okay,” she agreed. Sitting at her desk and finally opening the email form Penelope.

She read through his tox-screens, his drug history, his mental state. His first-hand accounts, witness statements, clues and findings his team had made. It all felt like the plot to a bad movie about revenge, possibly even female rage. But for what?

“I finished reading,” she said softly, brows furrowed as she chews the inside of her cheek. “Do you know anyone other than this Mr. Scratch guy who you’ve put away, wronged, lead on, or just pissed off?”

“Why?” He asked, clearly attached to the idea this was all Mr. Scratch’s doing.

“It feels like revenge, but very well planed. Like a women is mad at you so she found your weakness, I’ve done mean shit to exes in the past but this is insane. They knew you’d do anything for your mom, they knew your drug history, and the fact you might get schizophrenia one day, they wanted to drug you and make you think you did all this.”

Spencer stood then, listening to her words as he scrunched his face. Thinking as hard as he could, “can you call Penelope?”

“Yeah,” she nodded as she dialled her number, putting her on speaker phone.

“Well hello there, Love Doctor,” Penelope teased as she answered.

“Um hi, Spencer wanted to talk to you,” she panicked.

“Oh, sorry, how are you Spencer?”

Spencer looked so confused, “I’m good… Y/N and I were looking at the case files you sent-”

“Good, did you find anything?” Penelope cut in, eager to talk to him.

“Have you looked into everyone I’ve ever encountered on a case? Specifically women?” Spencer asked. “I told my lawyer and Emily that I remember a woman being there and helping, she must know me from a case too, like the other prison escapees he’s helped?”

“On it pretty boy, any specifics about her that you remember?” Penelope asked over the sound of her keyboard clicking away.

“Long brown hair, but it’s probably different now,” he added. “Everything else is dark, I didn’t see her face or any other features.”

“Alright, call me anytime Spence, I miss you,” Penelope said softly, changing her tone to a more sensitive one. “Take care of each other, my loves.”

“Love you,” they say at the same time. Looking at each other awkwardly after she hung up, leaving them to sit with their words alone.

Spencer was leaning so close to her she could feel his body heat radiating off him. Spencer placed his hand on her shoulder as he stood straight, towering over her as she looked up at him.

“I have patients to talk to, but I brought chess for you to teach me later,” she smiled up at him.

“Can’t wait,” he beamed a smile back.

She felt his hand rub the back of her blue scrubs lightly, pulling away as he walked back around to his desk. She watched him with careful eyes, wishing he would have stayed longer.

—

Normally at 4:30, Y/N would bring Spencer a tray of whatever the kitchen was serving her patients for dinner that night. Tonight, however, she walked into her office at 5 pm on the dot, closing the clinic for the night and putting all her attention on Spencer.

“So,” she smiled as she leaned against her office door, excitement radiating out of her. “A little birdie told me that you really like Indian food, Tandoori chicken to be exact…”

“No way?” He gasped as he turned around in his chair.

She nodded with a cheeky grin, “homemade so I could sneak it in.”

She took her lunch box out of her mini-fridge, opening it up to show him the 2 Tupperware containers. One for him, the other for her. She took the lids off and dished it onto 2 plates she keeps in the cabinet above the fridge.

Spencer grew more and more excited as she warmed it up, filling the room with a familiar smell. He was so happy, “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you do for me?”

“Come here,” she said softly, watching him walk towards her carefully.

She wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him in a hug. He carefully placed his hands on her back, holding her against his chest as he snuggled his cheek into her hair again.

“I’ll take hugs as payment from now on,” she pulled back from him as the microwaved beeped.

Taking a plastic spoon from the cutlery jar, she opened the microwave and handed him a plate. “Did you want to stay in here or go to the break room? I never use it cause I don’t have any co-workers, but it has a couch and a coffee table?”

“Okay,” he smiled. Taking the plate from her and waiting for her to warm up her own meal before taking a bite.

He was ever the gentleman.

Y/N reached back into her lunch box, taking out the package of naan bread, seeing Spencer’s eyes basically roll into the back of his head. “You thought of everything?”

“Bread is my life,” she laughed.

When her food was ready, she placed it on top of the chess box and led the way down to the break room. Spencer holding every door for her.

She flicked on the lights in the break room, watching them strobe before making that awful powering up frequency. She groaned, putting her food on the table before turning on a few lamps instead.

The room went from bright and anxious to relaxed and personal, the amber glow bouncing off the cream walls, it was nice. As nice as it could be in a prison. She never thought she’d be having a date at a prison.

That’s basically what this was, a date.

She made him dinner, they were going to play games, he was going to sit right beside her, close enough to kiss. She really wanted to, she’s thought about it a lot, his pink lips were perfect and she just wanted to see how they’d feel between her own.

But she wont.

“Dig in honey,” the name rolled over her tongue like it was always meant to.

She felt his eyes on her right away, realizing that she called him honey in a situation where he wasn’t crying, where he wasn’t vulnerable. She said it as a term of endearment, she couldn’t stop the embarrassment form settling in her veins.

She sat beside his softly, picking up her dinner and pretending it didn’t happen. “Thank you,” Spencer cut into the awkwardness.

“You’re welcome,” she said softly. Feeling like she could flip inside out at any moment.

From the corner of her eye she saw him take the first bite, closing his eyes as he appreciated the moment. His shoulders settled as he chewed, she could swear he almost moaned as he ate it. She has had the food in the cafeteria before, she understood his reaction.

“That good?” She asked, teasing him softly.

He nodded, silent as he took it all in. He took another bite, and another, she felt like he was going to get the hiccups at this rate but it was too cute to stop. He was like a stray dog eating inside for the first time in months, it made her happy and then a little sad.

He stayed quiet the whole time. Crossing his legs as he sat on the couch, the plate pulled in close to his chest as he shovelled spoonfuls of food into his mouth. She sat there admiring him as he did so, falling more and more every time she glanced at him.

“That was delicious,” Spencer said as he stood, placing his plate on the counter across the room. “Are you done?” He asked, taking her plate as she reached it out to him.

“Yeah, thanks,” she watched him carefully, always wanting to help her in whatever way he could.

He didn’t sit on the couch when he came back, instead, sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, taking the chess set out and beginning to set it up. Not wanting to miss a moment of the freedom he felt when he was with her.

“So, chess is pretty easy to learn,” he said, looking up at her through thick eyelashes as he spoke. “Do you know any of the rules yet?”

“Um, I know where they all go, I know that you can’t go through other pieces and the horse gets to jump?” She tried to remember all the way back to grade 4, the last time someone explained the rules to her.

He was so soft with her, explaining the rules and showing her what to do. His hand would lightly brush over hers occasionally, eventually, he’d just guide her hand over the pieces that she should move. It was so nice to just be alone with him, knowing they were both allowed to be happy.

The room was mostly silent, only the sound of Spencer's advice and her giggle as she still wasn’t grasping the concept of the game.

“I just like, don’t care about the rules?” She couldn’t stop giggling at the fact she wasn’t picking up on anything he said.

Spencer laughed, it was deep and hearty, right from his soul, “then how do you want to play?”

She picked up the queen and moved it to a random spot, “I want to put this here and fight your guy. That’s why I don't get this, what is my XP? What are their skills? I was raised on Pokemon, honey.”

He made his way back to the couch, sitting closely beside her. “Well sugar pie, do you have any other games you want to play?”

She couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and pressing her lips against his. His hands wrapped around her waist on instinct as they connected.

It was everything she imagined. Soft, gentle, refreshing. Like a cold glass of ice tea on a hot summers day. She wanted more, never letting up as she kissed him.

Spencer was the one to pull off first, “shit,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared at him, horrified.

He laughed, smiling at her softly. “It’s okay,” he promised, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

She doesn’t stop him from pulling her back in, holding her hand on his cheek as he kissed her again. Hungrier than before, Spencer’s tongue was on a mission. He tastes like dinner, but with his own Spencer difference.

Kissing him felt like a fairytale coming true.

She forgot where they were, his hands on the back of her scrubs and her hands in his hair as their mouths clashed. She started to lay back on the couch, pulling him down on top of her.

“We can't,” he pants against her lips. Regretting it as he pulls away from her.

“Sorry, this was unprofessional I know,” she tried to play it off.

Spencer pulled her back in, flush against his chest once more. “No, I don’t regret it. It’s just, I’m not ready.”

“Oh,” she says softly. Then it clicks, “oh, oh my god, Spencer I’m so sorry I forgot. I didn’t mean to push you into anything,” she worries, running her hands over his arms softly.

He shakes his head, “you didn’t. I want to, believe me, I just don’t think I can handle the after part…”

“I cried for 3 hours after I had sex again, after everything,” she told him in complete honesty. Not even Savannah or Derek knew that.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” she assured him. “You shouldn’t have to be the only vulnerable one here, I want you to know about me.”

“You don’t have to tell me the details, I don’t want to think about someone hurting you,” he whispered, his eyes innocently studying her face for how she was feeling.

“Okay, so here’s everything else,” she was still holding his face in her hands. Rubbing her thumb over his cheeks. “I had 2 moms and a little sister, and I was raised in Boston. I met Savannah in 2004, I worked with her until a few years ago. She’s my best friend, Derek is like my big brother.”

She gave him the basics, “I don’t have a dad, my mom used the same donor for me and my sister, so I’ve never really felt safe around men because I never knew many.”

“Understandable,” he smiled softly. “what’s your mom like?”

“She died when I was 26,” she pressed her lips together awkwardly. “I haven’t talked to her wife since then, my other mom, she remarried not long after. I think she was cheating on my mom when she was going through chemo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“I can relate to a lot of the stories I know about you already. My mom was my world, I don’t know my dad. I’ve been hurt by people, I’ve lost a lot of myself while trying to help others,” she brushed her nose against his softly. Letting him know she wasn’t pulling back any time soon. “Who you are is not what you did, or what you’ve been through.”

He kisses her again softly. Breathing in through his nose lightly, his hand on her back pulling her in closer and closer. He didn’t want to let her go, and she was more than happy staying in his embrace forever.

He pulled back softly, “I lied to you.” He whispered against her lips.

“When?” She asked, scared to know the answer.

“I do remember you from Derek’s wedding, he told me about you a long time ago. I told him I was ready for dating again when you told him about Mark,” he couldn’t look at her.

“That’s not a huge lie,” she smiled softly. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking at you all night, with that little blond boy. You two were so sweet, Mark got really mad at me for staring at you actually.”

“Derek told me when he hurt you, he came to my apartment right after so he wouldn’t go and kill him,” Spencer’s voice was so low she had to stare at his lips to understand him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she shook her head softly, kissing the tip of his nose. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want to go back to my cell,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.

Breaking her heart in the process.

She kissed his cheeks and his lips a few times, peppering kisses to his soft face to make up for it. “We can’t do this again until you’re free,” she whispered.

“I understand.”

“So you better think long and hard about this woman you remember so I can track her down and shove her in that cell instead,” Y/N’s stern voice made him smile.

“Thank you,” he replied again, hugging her the way he promised he would thank her from now on.

—

For being 9 pm on a spring night, it was rather warm in the Vermont parking lot. She left the prison a while ago, not able to leave Spencer’s gravitational pull yet as she sat there, staring at the prison thinking about him alone in his cell instead of pressed against her chest for the rest of the night.

Thinking about the feeling of Spencer’s hands on her body and his tender lips. Her hand over her mouth as she remembered how his bottom lip ghosted over her own, the anticipation was enough to light her on fire.

She took out her phone and called Derek, knowing he would put her on speaker if they were already in bed for the night. Really needing her best friends right now.

“Hey kick-ass, how are you doing today?” Derek’s voice was overly cheery, “Hey!” Savannah added in the background.

“I’m in love with him.”

Chapter 6

She barely slept anymore. Waking up at 6 am every morning without her alarm clock, her heart physically aching to return to Spencer's side after a night without him. She felt like a love-sick school girl, wanting to be with him all day even if they had nothing to say. Just looking at him was enough to make her happy.

A few weeks passed. Weeks filled with smiles and laughter, singing and reading, inside jokes and shared jello cups. She was so madly in love with him, hugging him every morning when he arrived and every night before he left. Keeping her word, kissing him on the cheek every so often instead.

She started a routine of picking up a coffee and a donut for Spencer every single Thursday, worried that he probably thought about his case all night, yet again. Which only kept her up worrying all night about him, wondering if he was doing okay all alone.

Only getting sleep when she remembered that he had a photo of her, his mom, Derek and hank with him. He’d be okay.

She walked into the infirmary to find Jerry and Mike waiting for her with a guard. Mike bleeding all down his face while Jerry held his clearly broken hand.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” she sighed. Putting all her things in her office before coming back to care for them.

She excused the guard, telling him she had it from here. They wouldn’t put up any more fights with her, they looked up to her like a momma bear, and they were her terrible cubs.

“It is 7:33 am, who the fuck did you have to fight this early?” She whisper yelled at them. Not wanting to wake Leo in the care ward, “who is worth this?”

“You don’t want to know,” Mike said under his breath.

“Well clearly he’s not here, is he dead or in violent crimes? If you two fucked up our plan of me helping you during parole next year, I’m going to be pissed,” she tried her best to entice the answers out of them.

“It was Shaw,” Jerry said softly. “He was planning to hurt the new guy, he’s all fake buddy-buddy with him.”

“Excuse me?” She panicked.

“He’s been talking to Milos at night in the locker room, Wilkins lets him out of his cell and into gen-pop,” Mike carried on the story as she tried to clean the blood off his eyebrow.

“What are they going to do to Spence?”

“Spence?” Jerry teased her, poking her side. “I didn’t know he had a nickname already. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“I’ve kept him locked away to be safe, I’m going to find a way to keep him here at night,” She said softly. “He’s best friends with my brother, I can’t let him get hurt.”

“So you knew him in freedom land?”

She nodded, “a little.”

“All you need is a bandaid,” she changed the subject as she reached into her kit. “And Jerry I’m going to have to set your fingers back in place, if you scream in my face, I will kick you in the nuts.”

They laughed at her fake tuff guy act, never actually being able to hurt them. They were her buddies, giving her a big hug after she finished with them. Getting them both a pudding and telling them to stay put for the day if they wanted to.

Spencer found her in the lab when he arrived, she knew it was him when the door opened, no one else had a passkey to get in. She was writing down some numbers on a chart when he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She dropped her pen and turned around in his grasp, holding his face in her hands immediately as she pulled him into a quick kiss.

“I thought you said I couldn’t do that again till I’m free?” He asked softly. Kissing her a second time as he finished.

She smiled against his lips, “you’re free when we’re alone.”

He kissed her harder. His hands around her waist as he picked her up slightly. Twirling her around as they kissed, she laughed against his skin. Unable to stop herself from smiling as she held onto him.

She kissed him one last time as he put her down on the floor, “I have a coffee and donut for you in my office.”

“You’re too good to me, Sugar Pie.”

“Anything for you, Honey Bunch,” she bit her lip as she smiled at him again. So absolutely overwhelmed with love for him.

“I actually have a serious question to ask you,” his tone changed, making her concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m still trying to figure out more about that night, and I think I want to try exposure therapy,” he explained. “I was wondering if you’d help me get high, so I can remember what happened in the same mindset.”

“Okay,” she nodded softly. “I can book you in for the night here, say you’re under observation, and I’ll stay here with you.”

“Are you sure?”

She kissed him softly again, looking up at him with a smile after. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll help you. But we need some ground rules.”

“Of course,” he agreed. Letting go of her as she stepped back, leaning against the counter now.

“No kissing, nothing like that, we’ll do it in my office so you can be alone and then later you’ll sleep in the observation room. Leo is in there, he’s harmless and sleeps all night on his morphine anyway,” she explained. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, I don’t want you to regret it. It’s going to be hard to sober up again once you get a taste of euphoria in here.”

He nodded along as she set the rules, “those are good. Thank you.”

“They drugged you with heroin, and while I know where to get some, I’m not letting you do that,” she laughed. “I have Dilaudid in pills and liquid morphine.” Letting him pick his poison.

“The pills will be fine,” he said softly.

“Alright,” she smiled. “And if you want, when you get out I can take you to a meeting? You’ll need to talk to someone other than me, someone who gets it.”

“You’ll stay with me after all this?”

“As long as you let me,” she felt her heart grow 3 sizes at the way his puppy dog eyes stared back at her. “Go have your breakfast and I will come to see you soon, okay honey?”

His smile was glorious, she could feel the love radiating off him as he looked at her. It felt wonderful, knowing at that moment her feelings weren’t one-sided. That he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. He was going to be good to her.

—

She had mike and Jerry help her move the couch from the break room and into her office, allowing them to meet Spencer, finally. It was awkward at first, two big muscle men telling him how much they also loved their Sugar.

“Should we tell him?” Mike nudged Jerry.

“What?” Spencer asked softly, sitting at his desk on the other side of the room, really not enjoying their alpha energy.

“Shaw, Milos and Wilkins are all secretly buddies, they were planning to hurt you and so Mike and Jerry beat Shaw up in the yard,” she scrunched her face as she explained it, not ready for his reaction.

“How?”

“After they cut that kid's throat, they wanted to get you to run heroin for them. But you ended up in here, we heard them in gen-pop last night saying they wanted to get you,” Jerry explained as he played with the bandages on his hand. “He won't be out of the violent offender's infirmary for a while.”

“Thank you,” he replied to them with a pressed-lipped smile. “I need to call my team about the case.”

That was their queue to leave, Y/N patting them on the back for the help, telling them they could stay with Leo or go back to the yard, she didn’t care. They just couldn’t be in her office for this.

Spencer looked a little pissed off. “I didn’t ask them to do that,” she said, defensively.

“I’m not mad at you,” he shakes his head softly as steps into her space. “You’re the only person I can trust in here.”

She placed her hand on his chest softly, “call Penelope. Take your time on the phone with the team.” She handed him her cell phone, “FaceTime them if you want. See their faces, it’ll be okay.”

He hugged her, a silent thank you. She ran her hands over his back as she pressed her face into his neck. Holding back every instinct to tell him she loved him as she pulled away.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled. Taking her phone, “how do I?”

She couldn’t help laughing, “here,” she dialled Penelope’s cellphone number and hit the FaceTime button.

Seeing her beautiful, bright and bubbly face smile as she answered. “Hey! Oh my god, hold on,” they watched as she got up and ran down a hallway.

Spencer was instant giggles and smiles, a side of him she’s never seen before. True, pure love. This was his family, these were his people. She could see herself fitting into his little world one day.

“Guys! It’s Spencer!” She yelled as she ran into another room.

“What’s wrong?” “Is he okay?”

Suddenly she turned the phone sideways to show all his co-workers. “Hi!” He waved to them.

“Spence!” Emily and JJ cheered, “oh you look so good.”

“I feel good, how are you all?” He asked softly, taking her phone and sitting down at his desk.

She watched him softly from the door, slipping out when she saw his attention was fully on his past life. She walked down the hall towards the lab, hearing his laughter through the walls.

—

She placed 2 pills in a plastic cup, taking an apple juice and jello from the fridge for Spencer. She placed it on his desk 20 minutes before his shift ended, giving him a little space to decide when he wanted to. He told her that he get’s cold when he comes down from a high, so she leaves a fluffy blanket and a pillow on the couch before slipping back out of the room.

She returned to the care unit, looking over Leo as he got ready for the night. Administering his meds and wishing him a good night. She closed his curtain, so when Spencer eventually went to bed he wouldn’t be disturbed.

When she finally settled into her office for the night, Spencer was in the dark. Sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. “Hey,” he said softly.

“How are you?” She asked softly. Closing the door behind herself. Locking it and making sure all the blinds were closed.

“It’s going to hit soon,” he said softly. Suddenly embarrassed and closed off, hiding from her as he laid down.

She didn’t want to bother him, sitting at her desk with her reports. The light from the computer is just enough to see what she was looking at. She glanced at him every few minutes to make sure he was okay.

He enjoys it at first, a blissed-out look on his face as his head is tossed back against the couch. She knows the exact euphoria he’s feeling, she understood perfectly why someone would want to escape like that.

Then his face changes as he starts to hate it, he mumbles to himself with his eyes squeezed shut, she could see him gripping the sheets as he tries to force himself to remember.

She’s uncomfortable watching it, feeling like an intruder. She tried to only focus on her work, flipping through emails and Twitter, scrolling through Facebook for the first time in months to preoccupy her mind.

He was like that for at least an hour.

She could hear his teeth chattering as he came down, just like he said would happen. “You okay, honey?”

“Y-yeah,” he tried to speak through the shaking. “C-can we cuddle?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, turning on her desk lamp before joining him on the couch.

She pulled him up into a sitting position, sitting where his head once was and letting him settle into her lap. She ran her hands through his hair, combing through the locks as she shushed him. Running her hand up and down his back in a tender motion, he snuggled into her leg.

“I’m not that high anymore,” he says softly.

“I know, it’s okay if you are. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

It makes her stop. Her whole body stills at the words, he wanted to clarify so she’d know it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. She closes her eyes and squeezes them shut, biting her lip as she tries not to burst into tears.

He felt it too.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, “sit up.” She instructs him softly.

She laid down against the couch then, waiting for him to snuggle into her side. Wrapping the blanket around them both as they found the most comfortable position.

“Sorry,” he whispered against the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay, it just feels wrong for me to say it back right now. I feel the same, believe me, Spencer.” She wanted to assure him to the best of her ability. “But you’re still an inmate in my care, I can’t. Not yet.”

“You don’t have to,” he pulled back to look her in the eyes, his own still droopy from how tired the drugs made him. “I’m going to love you regardless.”

She broke her own rules. Kissing him softly, holding him close to her, under the blanket where both their body heat was trapped. She had never felt safer in her entire life.

Spencer only crawling into that bed in the care ward when he woke up to her alarm the following morning.

Chapter 7

There’s someone banging on her office door just a little after 8 am. She was in the middle of putting a new pair of scrubs on over her long-sleeve undershirt, the banging on her door doesn’t stop until she opens the door.

“What?” She yells at them.

It’s Officer Wilkins. “Where is inmate Reid? We have a visitor for him.”

“No one is scheduled to see him today?”

“There is now. Where is he?” The man towered over her. Trying his best to intimidate her.

“Care ward. I’ll get him. You can go wait in the waiting room,” she pushes past him. Watching him stumble as he hits the wall.

“He’s not worth dying over,” he whispers under his breath.

She doesn’t leave Reid’s side as Wilkins attempts to escort him to an interrogation room. Y/N stands in the observation room as Spencer waits, cuffed to the table. Looking through the mirror at each other, only he couldn’t see her. He just knew she would be there.

“Mom?” Spencer’s shocked voice breaks her out of her thoughts as she sees Diana walking into the room.

A dark-haired woman she’s never met before escorting her in. Y/N whips her phone out to take a quick photo before running back to her office as quickly as she can.

Y/N: I need you to check on Cassie, Diana’s nurse. Someone I don’t know just brought Diana to the prison.

She attached the photo she took, setting her phone down to looking through the visitor's logs on her computer. Wanting to know the name of the woman accompanying Diana.

“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice says from her doorway.

She looks up at him from her desk. Wilkins is stepping into her space with a look of guilt, taking his baton off his belt.

“You don’t have to do this,” she backed up against the wall, trying to keep as much distance from him as possible.

“I have to,” his tone changed. Like a personality switch, his eyes darkened as he charged at her.

She ran around the desk, watching him follow. Punching her in the face, causing her to fall back against the couch, she didn’t want him to get on top of her. Dropping to the carpeted floor as he dove onto the couch.

She crawled on the floor towards the door as he tried to get up. Standing as fast as she could, roundhouse kicking him in the face with a grunt. Her foot hit his jaw at just the right angle, rendering him unconscious.

She reached for his cuffs as soon as he hit the floor, “Leo!! Help!” She screamed down the hall.

She heard bare feet running down the hall, followed by the sound of rubber on linoleum. “Sugar??” Mike and Jerry yelled as they followed.

“Watch him,” she insisted once the cuffs were on him. “Hurt him if you have to.”

She took the second pair of cuffs off Wilkins's belt before running out of the room, her lip busted and bleeding down her neck.

She ran down the hall towards Spencer, busting into the room and knocking the nurse to the ground. Struggling to get her onto her stomach, “stop struggling, who the fuck are you?”

“Get off me!” She screamed in return.

Y/N cuffed her and pulled her to her feet, pushing her against the stone wall.

“What is going on?” Spencer stood up, cuffed to the table so he couldn’t help.

“Wilkins just attacked me, Diana wasn’t supposed to be here,” she said over her shoulder in Spencer’s direction. “So I’ll ask again,” she whispered in the woman's ear as she pushed her against the wall harder. “Who, the fuck! Are you?”

“He knows me,” she spat out.

Y/N ripped her off the wall, making her look at Spencer who was shocked, speechless as he tried to remember her face. “Who is she?”

“She told me Cassie was fired, she’s been with me all morning?” Diana tried to explain, slightly freaking out.

“I sent her photo to Penelope, I need a guard,” Y/N said, hauling the unknown women into the hall with her.

—

The prison was put on lockdown as they tried to figure out this security breach. Wilkins and the nurse being held in prison custody as they waited for the BAU team to fly in.

Figuring out that her name was Lindsay Vaughn, Spencer remembered as much as he could about her. How he tried to save her dad, losing him to his carnal need to kill. Lindsay following closely in her daddy's footsteps.

Diana sat at Spencer’s desk, Mike and Jerry stand watch at the door. Y/N was sitting on top of her desk in front of Spencer, it was his turn to run alcohol over her cuts. Holding her face in his hands as he cared for her.

“I'm sorry,” he mouths the words at her. Not wanting his mother to overhear them.

She nods in response, unable to smile as the cut on her lips stings. All things considered, she could have been in a lot worse condition if it wasn��t for Derek and her training.

She wants to kiss him, she can tell he’s looking over her shoulder at his mom. Waiting to make sure she’s not looking before he leans in a little closer.

Pressing their lips together as silently as possible, his eyes still on her’s as they did so. It’s the most tender kiss she’s ever had, “I’m okay Spence,” she said softly as he pulled back.

“I’m still sorry you were dragged into this,” holding her against his chest softly.

From where she was sitting on top of her desk, she placed her head on his chest, holding him as close as she could, his cheek resting on her head. She wrapped her legs around him, not wanting to let him go, ever.

Needing the comfort he brought her, now more than ever.

When Derek and she started training again it was mostly to help her feel safe. To know what to do if it happened again. She didn’t ever expect it to, thinking it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. That she’d learn from it and then she wouldn’t be in this situation again, being punched in the face by a man.

She started to cry, the throbbing pain in both her face and her foot taking over as the adrenaline dissipated, she was too overwhelmed to do anything more. He let her cry against him, rubbing his hand on her back as he kissed her forehead.

She couldn’t wait for him to get out of here, and she was going to leave with him.

—

Derek is the first to burst through the door. Wrapping Spencer up in the biggest hug she’s ever seen him give. Rocking Spencer back and forth in his grasp as he kissed Spencer's cheek a few times.

He pulled back, holding Spencer's face in his hands. Smiling so he didn’t cry, “they’re dropping the charges.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope,” Derek shakes his head adding, “You’re free.” Expecting Spencer to hug him again.

Instead, Spencer turns to Y/N and pulls her into a kiss. She’s startled at first, eyes wide open as Spencer’s hands find her waist and pulls her right up against him.

She can't help but settle against him. Holding his face in her hands as she kisses him back. He picks her up slightly, spinning her around with his face buried in her neck as she yelps.

Everyone in the room watching him celebrate with her in shocked silence.

He placed her back on the ground, kissing her one last time. “You did it, Spence,” she smiles at him.

“We did it.”

She hears someone clearing their throat. Both of them turning to see the Warden as well as the entire BAU team standing in her doorway. But they don’t pull apart, Spencer’s hand stays on her side as they wait to get yelled at.

“I quit,” Y/N said before he could say anything to her, “and I might sue.”

“I’m suing for sure,” Spencer added.

“We’re terribly sorry for the condition of your stay Doctor Reid. And Doctor Y/L/N, I’ll never be able to make it up to you. I’m incredibly sorry for what Wilkins did,” the warden tried to cover his ass from a bureau lawsuit.

“Too late for that,” Emily added. Stepping into the room more. “Doctor Reid will be leaving with us, now.”

“Understood,” the Warden hurried out of the room before any more damage could be done.

Everyone took a turn hugging Spencer then. A handful of them even hugging Y/N as well.

Emily wrapped Y/N up in a hug, rubbing her back the way she would all those years before. “Thank you, you have no idea what he means to us.”

“I think I do,” she laughed against her. “If that’s not weird?”

“Not at all,” she pulled back, looking at Y/N with her big beautiful eyes, her bangs pushed out of the way so she could take a good look again. “You two are good together.”

She smiled, “thanks Em.”

“We need to fill him in on everything, will you stay with Diana?” Emily asked.

“Of course, I’m just going to be packing up some things anyway,” she said as she turned to Spencer. “Have fun with your friends, honey.”

“Thanks, sugar,” he kissed her on the cheek before walking out. Everyone whistling and hollering at the boldness Dr. Reid had developed in prison.

They all filed out after him, she watched the door with a soft smile as they wandered down the hall, Spencer taking them to the break room so they could chat.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Diana’s small voice came from Spencer’s desk.

“Oh, Diana,” she smiled. “Can I give you a hug?”

Diana nodded as she walked over to her, wrapping her up in a hug, much like how Spencer would. She can imagine Spencer’s hugs once feeling like this, imagining him small and shy, holding her slightly. Unlike his more beefy, relaxed form since being in prison.

“He means the world to me too,” she says softly as Diana pulls away.

“You saved him, if he didn’t have you he might not still be my soft and sweet little Spencer,” Diana patted her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making him,” she laughed slightly. “He’s a wonderful man, I have a feeling you played a big role in that.”

Her smile was just like his. The smile of a mother, someone who was going to love him forever, maybe she’d love her too. Y/N felt a little emotional, this could be her family one day.

Chapter 8

There was a lot of information to process as she sat at the BAU round table.

Learning the entire plot of some women’s revenge against Spencer, just how much Wilkins and Lindsay were involved, the crazy scheme they planned and how terribly it would have ended if she wasn’t there.

Spencer, on the other hand, was visiting this Cat person in prison. The one who orchestrated it all, the one who was obsessed with Spencer, the love of her life, to the point she might be having his baby. He had some things to settle with her.

He was on edge before he left, going with Derek and JJ while Y/N stayed back with Diana. David Rossi had even offered to let them all stay at his guest house later that night, seeing as Spencer’s apartment was a crime scene.

Lindsay murdered Cassie, leaving her dead body on Spencer’s apartment floor. Ruining the place he was so desperate to return to.

She was a little out of it. Trying to think of everything that happened and everything she would have to do in the next few days. Compiling a list in her mind as the anxiety bubbled in her gut.

She needed a new job and a new place to live. First, she’d have to go back to Vermont to pack, and she’d have to find a way to support her boys on Parole. And Mike and Jerry.

She put her hands over her face and rested against the table. Overwhelmed with everything, her face still hurting, the lights were too much, she was tired.

Then she was crying softly.

“Hey,” Emily rubbed her back softly. “Shhh, it’s okay, what’s wrong Y/N?”

She sat up and wiped her eyes with a small laugh, embarrassed that her kinda ex-girlfriend was comforting her. “I’m stressed?” She answered, not even really sure herself.

Emily smiled while she nodded, looking so different now than she did back when they first met. Older, but in a beautiful way, gracefully becoming who she was always meant to be. “I get it, believe me.”

She remembered Derek saying she ‘died’ once. How they buried her casket and how pissed they were when they found out she was actually alive. Y/N only knew Emily re-born, as they called her.

She was always caring, always wanted to comfort and make people happy. It was the way she coped with hurting them all, but it carried on past the team. It carried on to strangers, victims, sometimes even unsub’s.

And most definitely Y/N.

There was a part of Y/N that wonders what loving Emily would have been like; if it would have felt half as good as loving Spencer. Or would it be better? She’d never really know, but she could imagine it would have been nice.

“How can we help?” Emily asked, still as wonderful as ever.

“I need a new job,” she laughed. “Can Penelope use her mad skills to find a reputable business in need of a doctor around here?”

“Are you moving back to Virginia?” She smiled at the thought.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, a smile growing on her face. “I’m kind of attached to Spencer now.”

“Good, maybe Derek can help you find a place, he has like, what 7? Right now that he’s fixing up?” Emily threw out ideas. “You’ll get the ball rolling soon, it’ll all be fine.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on him, I know you would never but, I was worried he had lost all hope and you never did. Thank you.”

Emily hugged her again, not saying anything. Y/N knew there was nothing to thank her for, this was a family. They would kill for each other if they needed to.

“Let’s go see Penelope,” Emily replied as she pulled away. Standing and extending a hand for Y/N.

The BAU offices were so interesting, many people running around to get jobs done before the end of the day as the main team chilled. It was like any other office she was in; controlled chaos and hierarchy.

Diana was sitting with Penelope in her office, flipping through a scrapbook while eating a jello cup. It made her smile to see it ran in the family.

“Hey,” Penelope cheered as she noticed them.

“I was just going to ask for some help with something, I see you’re busy,” Y/N awkwardly commented on the situation.

“Oh, we’re not,” Diana said. “I was showing her photos of Spencer. Would you like to see them?”

“I’d love to, um while I’m here, Penelope would you be willing to help me search for a good job?” She asked a lot mousier than Spencer would have if he was asking her for something.

“Of course, what are we looking for?” She wheeled to her main computer, cracking her knuckles as she got ready to look.

“Um, anyone hiring a GP close to here, I’m willing to go all the way to DC for work,” she explained. “I just want a place where I won't get punched again,” she tried to laugh at the trauma.

“The sanatarium is hiring, they’ve got good ratings and not a lot of patient complaints, they’re looking for a physician to care for the elderly members of the program,” Penelope explained as she clicked through screen after screen of info.

“That would be nice,” she smiled towards Diana. “Did you like the one you were at?”

“Oh yes,” Diana mused. “I had many friends there, I miss them and the social aspect. For a bunch of loons, I really loved the company.” She laughed at herself.

“I send the link to you,” Penelope smiled. “Now let me see his little baby bum again that one is my favourite, he’s so funny,” she leaned back in close to Diana.

All the pictures were priceless. Seeing Spencer grow up, page after page, every award and accomplishment displayed proudly. It made her miss her family, the love that a mother could bring to her life.

She got a little emotional, trying to nonchalantly wipe the tear off her cheek as she watched Diana flip a page.

“Are you okay?” She asked softly.

Y/N laughed, “yeah I just miss my mom.” She scrunched her nose so that the tears stayed in, waving her hand in front of her face as she tried to blink the tears back.

“Where is she?” An innocent question opening the floodgates.

“She had cancer,” Y/N cried softly. Not noticing as Emily and Penelope left the room. Giving them a space to bond.

“She died when I was 26,” she explained.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Diana placed her hand on Y/N’s back as she rubbed her softly. “Do you have any other family?”

“My moms are gay, well. After my mom died I stopped talking to her wife, yes she raised me but she hurt my mom too much for me to love her like a parent,” Y/N unloaded her trauma onto Diana, it must be genetic to find comfort in the Reids.

“Spencer never had a father either,” Diana related to her. “After William left it was just us, and Spencer stepped up to being the man of the house. He’s always been thrown into situations where he has no control but he needs to make the decisions. You’re probably the best person he could be with, he doesn’t have to take care of you.”

“Cause I baby him,” she laughed as she wiped stray tears off her cheeks. “He’s pretty wonderful, you did a fantastic job. Both of you did, look at the love you have. This is a perfect family.”

She gestured to the book of photos, seeing the love beaming off Diana’s face as she held a 12-year-old Spencer in her arms. Braces, on his face, thick glasses, long hair. He was adorable.

“You’re welcome to join,” Diana offered softly. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked softly.

“Why have more when you can stop at perfection,” she smiled, the same wonderful smile Spencer had.

“That he is,” she agreed. “Thank you for him.”

“Thank you, I mean it when I say you saved him,” Diana’s serious look making Y/N cry again.

“I know,” she cried. “And I’d do it again.”

In a heartbeat.

—

Rossi had 3 rooms ready for use in his guest house. Only 2 were ever used during their stay. They spent a few nights recovering together, helping Diana into a new routine for a few days while trying to just spend as much time as possible together out in the real world.

Rossi’s property was huge, never-ending even. He had lake access, ponds with ducks, fields and fields of long grass topped with flowers. It was like a dream getting to explore it together.

Happiness hit her like a freight train, smacking her in the chest and knocking the wind out of her.

She blinked and suddenly she had been waking up in Spencer’s arms for a week straight. Going on adventures together, waiting for him with a coffee outside his NA meetings, holding him all night long.

He had a hard time adjusting to a real bed again, it was too soft. He spent most of his time with his head on Y/N's chest, letting her rub his back slowly as she kissed his head, helping him drift off to sleep every single night. Causing her to fall deeper and deeper in love with him.

Every day beside him was a blessing, no longer was he a dog trapped in a cage. He was free, running with her through the fields like wild horses.

She woke up with him still snuggled into her, arm around her waist, legs tangled together, his face right in the crook of her neck. His hot breath on her skin being the thing that finally woke her up.

Absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair, eyes still closed as she woke up. Snuggling her cheek against the top of his head, causing him to pull her in tighter. Both of them slowly coming alive again.

“I love you,” her voice coarse from sleeping with her mouth open, dry as she licked her lips. It was the only thought that came to her mind. Not even realizing it was the first time she’s said it to him.

Spencer kissed her neck softly, “I love you.”

She couldn’t believe the happiness she was feeling, almost positive that even in her saddest moments she still loved him just this much. He was everything, even under all the scares and trauma, he was the most wonderful person in her whole world. And she was beyond blessed to be holding him in her arms.

The sun was barely up yet, having fallen asleep around 10 pm last night, they were up way earlier than they expected. It was so nice, the deep orange light of the morning sun creeping through the window behind the bed.

“Do you want to go watch the sun come up?” She asked softly.

“Yeah,” he nodded softly. Sitting up with her to get ready.

They put on track pants and sweaters and shoes, grabbing a few blankets and heading outside. A few minutes of walking behind Rossi’s house led them towards a beautiful little pond, they laid out 2 blankets over the dew-soaked grass before cuddling on top of it.

The birds were performing for them, the clouds were cleaning into the most beautiful morning blue sky she had ever seen. She couldn’t help herself from holding him tighter against the blanket.

The sun shined on the water, casting beautiful pinks and oranges across the surface as it stretched into the sky. A few ducks followed their mommas in the May morning breeze, quacking in agreement as they swam across the pond. Playing a game of following the leader.

It was a dream, she was sure of it. It was all too perfect to be real.

Including Spencer, he laid there softly underneath her, holding her against his chest as she appreciated the world around them. His attention only on her, even after being locked up for 3 months. He would always choose her.

“I’m so happy,” she said softly. “You make me so happy.”

He kissed her on the forehead, pushing her back against the blanket so he could kiss her whole face as she laid there. Smiling as she held his sides, letting him smother her in affection.

When he finally stops kissing her, he brushes her hair behind her ear. Cupping her face with one hand as he looks at her. The sun casting a vibrant glow on the both of them as they appreciated each other for a moment.

“I don’t know how I made it so long without you,” he finally speaks. “But I never want to do it again.”

“Move in with me?” She replied without a second thought. “I need to find a place here anyway, and I doubt you want to go back to your apartment.”

“I already asked Derek for the place he was fixing on Wilmont, it’s close to the sanatarium, mom wants to be social again,” he filled her in on his plans. “We just have to sign the lease.”

“We?” She teased him.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“Good,” she smiled as she pulled him into another kiss. “Because I love you, too.”

Spending time with Spencer was intimacy in its purest form. It was a relationship built on trust, respect, and mutual love. It was the first time in her life she felt truly in love, not mesmerized by the idea of it.

She trusted him when he said that he loved her. She believed him when held her when he talked to her about his day or the most random things his mind could conjure. When he’d just hold her, enjoying her presence without wanting anything more than just her.

Chapter 9

They arrived in Vermont early on a Saturday morning, heading to her apartment to pack everything up. It was just the two of them this time, flying in together, half asleep at the break of dawn.

Only bringing 1 bag with her essentials for the next 2 days, hoping to pack her whole life into a truck and pray it arrived in Virginia okay.

And she got to show Spencer her space. A personal side of her that he had no idea about. He knew her mind, her feelings, her trauma, but he didn’t know what her personality was really like outside of loving him.

He was surprised by the amount of stuff she had. Wandering around her apartment quietly as she started taping boxes into shape.

Rented white walls enclosed the space when she moved in, not being able to paint them or anything felt wrong to her. So she covered them in photos, artwork and posters. Bringing the space to life with a touch of colour.

Mostly neons, having an affinity for green and purple accent pieces. Not a single shade of blue to be found, getting enough of that at work over the years.

She had plants everywhere, an old record player and a million different albums spread across the living room. Her bedroom was a mess, the closet was even worse. The kitchen would be easy to pack, it was the stuff on the walls she was worried about.

“I’m probably not getting my deposit back,” she laughed as she started taking the paintings down.

“I didn’t know you went to Harvard?” He points at her medical degree on the wall as she takes it down.

“Yeah, let me guess you’re a Yale guy?” She teased him.

He scoffed, nudging her arm lightly. “CalTech and MIT actually, Yale was my safety school.”

“Mine too,” she smiled.

Spencer stood beside her and watched for a minute, “what should I do?”

“Pick an area and pack the way you would if this was your place, I trust you won't break anything.”

“Okay,” he nodded, beginning stacking all her books on the kitchen table.

They worked well together, they knew that already. She put on music, they moved around each other freely. Occasionally singing the words and dancing around to the good ones. It was a lovely day to just open the windows and clean.

Hours passed, pizzas had been ordered and destroyed, boxes filled every corner of the space as her personality was completely ripped from the room. Soon it was just them, a couch and the record player.

She got up and walked into the bedroom to change, feeling sticky and gross from the day. Not expecting Spencer to follow and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Who knew packing boxes for 7 hours would make you so sweaty,” she jokes as she peels the shirt off her back. Standing in front of him in just her sports bra.

He turns away from her, making her laugh slightly. “Spencer, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He asks as he turns back to look at her.

She nods softly, “do you want to shower with me?”

He’s speechless for a moment, staring at her with an open mouth, “yeah, yes sure.”

She can't help herself from laughing, taking his hand and pulling him into her tiny bathroom. She makes sure they both have a few towels, seeing him awkwardly stand by the door like he’s not allowed to move.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she reminded him. “Go as slow as you want.”

“I want to join you, but just to clean,” he made his decision.

“Alright, I have 3 different shampoos you can choose from,” she smiled, opening her cupboard and letting him pick. He smiled, appreciating how easily she made it a strictly business situation.

She took off her pants, watching him get undressed out of the corner of her eye. They had been much more intimate with each other already, getting naked in front of him shouldn’t have been as nerve-racking as it was.

She turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature with her foot. She took a deep breath and just took the sports bra off, freeing her boobs after a long day felt amazing, replacing the fear of Spencer seeing her for the first time. She dropped her underwear to the floor and stepped into the shower, waiting for him to do the same.

Before she knew it, he was standing in front of her, naked. She didn’t know how to act, just laughing and smiling at him. He did the same, it felt kinda crazy that they were standing in a shower, butt naked as the water pooled at their feet.

“You have to pull the thingy up,” she pointed at the bottom of the shower behind him. “It might be cold when it hits you, here pull it up and hide in the corner, like I do.”

He followed her instructions, pulling the small silver plug up to redirect the water from the tub faucet to the shower head. Cowering into the corner with her, their chests pressed together as the cold water hit his back, making him gasp as she laughed.

She wrapped her arms around him, leaning against the shower wall as she held him against her, “hi,” she whispered through her smile.

He kissed her quickly before backing up under the stream. She watched the water cover his hair, making it darker as it spread through the long locks. She watched it drip down his body softly, her eyes travelling down as it did.

He had a scar on his neck and all the bruising on his chest was long gone. His skin was so pretty, he only had a small amount of chest hair, but it was the collection of freckles all over capturing her gaze the most. She reached out and rested her hand on his chest, seeing his eyes open as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sorry,” she pulled her hand back.

“It’s okay,” he laughed slightly. “Here,” he reached behind her for the bar of soap, “if you want to touch me while I wash my hair?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. Reaching for the loofa on the tap behind him, standing directly in his space as she did so.

They switched sides, slowly turning so he would be out of the spray of the shower head. He put shampoo in his hands and rubbed it through his hair while she watched quietly for a moment.

She rubbed the bar of soap against the fabric of the loofa, watching it foam up and fill the small space with a soft cucumber scent. Running it over his chest softly as he massaged his scalp. She was so soft with him, mesmerized by how lucky she was.

He was beautiful and soft. He wasn’t big and buff like Derek, he was just a normal man with a love for chocolate donuts and jello. She ran the loofa over his tummy as she smiled, loving everything about him.

Loving every part actually while trying to avoid both eye and physical contact with specific sections of him. Not knowing if he was okay, wanting to respect his space, and appreciating that he was doing the same with her.

He laughed when she ran it along his side, ticking his armpit as he tried to wash his hair, soap dripping down onto his eyebrow. She reached up and wiped it off his face so it wouldn’t go in his eye.

“Thanks,” he smiled.

“Switch?” She said as she guided him back under the water, his eyes still closed from the fear of getting soap in them. Scrunching his face up in the cutest way.

The water cascaded over his body, washing the soap down him as she watched, her hair not even close to being wet enough to wash yet. She just wanted to watch the show, to look at all of him and appreciate the moment.

He opened his eyes once all the soap was gone, his hair longer than ever as it laid flat behind his ears, he looked so funny without a big curly mop of hair on his head, remembering he said it used to be like this at one point.

“Your turn?” He offered, taking the loofa from her and reapplying the soap to it. “Can I?”

“Of course,” she answered as he slowly ran the material over her.

He was so gentle, she watched his face as he washed over her. Biting his bottom lip in concentration as he covered her chest, arms and stomach, “um,” he tried to speak, she knew what he wanted.

She took the loofa from him and replaced it with a bar of soap, “rub it in your hands for a sec, and then use them it’s easier.”

He did just that, lathering up his hands before he placed them directly on her breasts. She let out a sigh, bordering on a moan, as he held them in his hands, massaging the soap in carefully. Thumbs rubbing over her nipples as he made sure to not miss a spot.

She was in heaven, tossing her head back against the shower wall as he ran his hands over her more. Exploring her as she leaned against the wall.

Down her stomach, past her belly button, washing her hips before dropping to his knees. Using the bar of soap once more to wash over her legs as she stared at him, amazed by the bravery he was showing.

The water getting in his eyes down there, he stood and pushed his hair back out of his face as the water dropped to the floor, “turn around?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” she replied, turning to face the wall.

He ran his soapy hands all over her back, over her shoulders and arms. Paying special attention to her butt, which made her laugh, she was only a little ticklish there.

She was covered head to toe in bubbles, Spencer looked at her with a big grin on his face as he noticed his job was done. Helping her under the water to wash all the soap off.

She lifted her arms to run the water through her hair, feeling her boobs perk up as she did so. Spencer's attention being completely switched to her chest as he watched. “Pass me the gold shampoo bottle?”

“Y-yeah,” he said, grabbing it from behind himself and handing it back to her.

She stepped into his space, pouring the soap into her hand and rubbing it in. “They say if you lather it up it’ll apply easier,” she explained her little life hack as she rubbed her hands together.

Finally running her hands back through her hair in Spencer’s personal bubble. Her boobs pressing against his chest once again. He was breathing heavier as she watched him, hoping soap didn’t make its way into her eye and ruin the moment.

When she finally stepped back to wash the soap out of her hair, Spencer followed, pressing them together once more. Holding her by the waist as she continued to get the soap out.

Once the water ran clean, she rested her hands on Spencer's shoulders. Staring at him as the water ran down her back, his eyelashes covered in water droplets as he stared into her eyes.

He was beautiful like this, just himself.

“Are we ever going to be like a real couple?” He asked softly.

“What do you mean?”

He ran his wet hands over his back as he thought about it for a moment, “I would like to be with you, more than this, but-”

“You mean sex?” She smiled softly, trying her best to not tease him. It was a serious moment, but she loved him too much to see him struggle.

“Yeah, I just don’t know how I’ll react,” he admitted.

“Honey,” she cooed, rubbing her nose against his softly. “Sex doesn’t make us a real couple, first of all. And second, we have all the time in the world, so you take it as slow as you want. We can start little by little, I don’t mind waiting.”

“How do you mean?”

She smirked at him, “have you ever masturbated in the same room as someone else?”

He swallowed sharply, shaking his head softly, “no, have you?”

“No,” she whispered. “But it’s a small step. You can sit beside me, we touch ourselves, nothing overlaps unless you want it to. Ease into it. It would be another easy way to be comfortable with your body around me.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

She reached behind herself to turn the water off, tapping the silver plug with her foot to release the pressure, and stepping out of the shower finally.

—

They dried off, getting into their pj’s before laying on the couch in her empty living room. Listening to the Hozier album that was already sitting on the player and cuddling while their hair dried. Just enjoying each other's company, he was so soft and he smelled amazing, it was so nice to have him in her space.

“Did you still want to?” Spencer cut into the moment.

It made her smile against him, lifting her head off his chest as she went to stand up. “Come on,” she took his hand, helping him to his feet.

She pulled him in close, kissing his lips softly. Only planning to kiss him once, being drawn into his mouth as his hands wrapped around her back.

She held him in return, slowly making her way into the bedroom as they stayed connected, laughing as her back smacked the door frame and then at the way he fell into her bed with her on top.

Her music softly travelled in from the living area, they kept the lights off as they stripped out of their pants and got under the covers.

“How did you want to start?” She asked, turning to face him as she laid against the pillow.

“Can we just kiss for a while?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning in.

She was laying slightly on top of him, holding his face in her hands as she kissed him. His tongue was soft, swirling with hers as they made out softly. He was very handsy, wanting to touch every single part of her once again like he didn’t get enough in the shower.

She spread her leg between his, sitting on his thigh as she rubbed against him. He bit her lip, squeezing her skin at the feeling. “I think I can do it,” he said softly.

“No,” she whispered, kissing his neck before getting off him. “I don’t want to hear I think. It’s a yes or it’s a no.”

“Okay,” he managed to bring reason back into his horny brain.

He took his shirt off, only in boxers beside her, tenting in them slightly. She took off her shirt as well, laying back against the pillow. He watched her breasts the whole time, licking his lips as he leaned on his side.

She ran a hand over her side, cupping her breast and tossing her head into the pillow more. “I’m starting without you,” she teased, her other hand slipping under the band of her underwear.

He laid on his back, bending his knees as he slipped his boxers off, she looked over at him with careful eyes. Genuinely curious about how beautiful he would look rock hard and begging for it.

She didn’t move her hand, just resting it under her underwear to entice him to start. She watched as he stroked himself softly, returning his attention to her smiling face.

She pushed her shirt and underwear off as well, scooting in closer to him so she was pressed against his side. Bending one knee so she could ghost her fingers over the folds as he watched her.

“I want to touch you,” he rushed the words out.

“Okay.”

He reached his left hand over, resting it on her hip before resting his hand on top of hers. She slipped it out from under his grasp, guiding his fingers to her clit as she stretched her legs further apart.

“Yeah, like that,” she encouraged him.

“W-would you?”

“Finish the sentence,” she instructed him. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Stroke me, I want it. Yes.”

She wrapped her fist around him, feeling his fingers swoop down to see how wet she was. “Oh,” she jerked her hips against his side, not expecting him to loop the wetness back up and rub her clit again.

He groaned as she stroked him faster, both of them staring at their own handiwork. She was fascinated with how big he was, being able to stroke up and down him so gracefully it was like she was always meant to. She licked her lips as she saw the pearl of precum drip out. Gathering it up with her thumb as she slid back down his length.

He was panting, trying to hold himself back as she kept jerking him off. Lightly touching her clit as all his attention focused on not cuming so soon.

“It’s okay honey,” she whispered in his ear.

Straddling his thigh then. His hand resting on her clit still as she ground down on him. “Is this okay?” She asked.

He nodded, “yes,” biting his lip so he didn’t explode right then and there.

He felt amazing on her, every time her hips ground down her clit rested right between his fingers perfectly to gain the perfect amount of friction back and forth.

She let herself go, bucking her hips and moaning as she stroked him with one hand. Resting the other behind her neck so he could look at her boobs perk up again, sending him so close to the edge he almost jumped out of his skin.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “C-an I?”

“Cum baby,” she gasped. Following her own instruction as she watched the cum burst from him, shooting up over her fist as she stroked him through it. Grinding against him as she whimpered, “fuck, I love you,” leaving her mouth.

Letting go of his dick as he started to whine, she dropped down against him with her face nestled into his neck.

She kissed him, over and over again. Peppering them against his skin for the best orgasm she has ever had.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his skin as he came down from the high. His chest heaving as he tried to calm down, only picking up again when she heard the sob.

“Shhh,” she whispered against his skin, letting him hold her tighter against him as he cried. “I love you, honey, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”

She felt the tears welling in her own eyes, overwhelmed with her feelings for him. “I love you so much Spencer,” she cried against his skin, the tears dripping down his neck slowly.

His hands ran over her back, they held each other while they cried.

Everything from the last week finally catching up with them both. They hadn’t taken a moment to talk about any of it, the fact he was even in prison or what happened after. They just moved on, pretending it was fine now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally.

“Me too,” he pressed his hand onto her cheek, freeing her from his neck as she sat up a little.

Both of them still gross from the sex, pressing sweaty foreheads together as they took a moment. “I’m so sorry,” she emphasized, “are you okay?”

“I’m wonderful,” he laughed at the absurdity. “I’m crying because I love you so much.”

“Really?” She laughed too.

He nodded softly. Kissing her nose as she pulled back to look at him better. “I want to touch you but,” she laughed at the mess on her hand and where she rested it on his chest. “Can we pause for one sec?” She couldn’t stop smiling.

The two of them continuing to laugh at the situation as they cleaned up in the bathroom, laughing even harder as she sat to pee like they had been married for a million years already, laughing the hardest when it came out in dribbles from all the laughing.

Going through every emotion in the book as they coped with the insanity together.

Once they were clean they crawled back into bed. Resuming almost the same position as she sat down on his lap, holding his face in her hands like she wanted to. Rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks as he pulled her in closer by her hips.

“Tell me what you’re feeling?” She whispered.

“I’m happy, you saved my life and I can’t believe I get to do this with you,” he explained softly, moving his hands on her back. He talked with his hands, not able to say anything without them moving.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known, Spencer,” she reassured him.

“Why?” He asked softly. “not in a pity party sense, I just want to know how you feel. You haven’t really told me, I’ve been waiting for you to open up, I thought maybe you were just like that because it was your job, but I want to know you more.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she bumped their noses together. “I don’t normally talk to people, even with Derek I’m really closed off. But I do trust you, and I want to, I just wanted to experience you when you’re free. I wanted to see if this overwhelming ache in my heart would dissipate as I was allowed to love you.”

She didn’t want to cry again. Blinking so the tears rolled back behind her eyes, licking her lips as her head tilted slightly. She just stared at his honey eyes, glossy and blown out. So absolutely beautiful.

“It got worse,” she laughed slightly. “I realized that now that you’re free you don’t have to see me every day, luckily you want to. But, now I think about losing you instead of keeping you safe.”

“Never,” he shook his head, face still cupped in her hands. “I’m never leaving you, you’re going to need a restraining order if you want to break up.”

She laughed, pushing the tears out, finally. Spencer kissed her cheeks, wiping the tears away with his lips. “Okay,” her voice broke as she tried not to cry anymore.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered. “You’re brave and kind, incredibly smart. You’re willing to do whatever it takes for the ones you love, you’re the only person I want to talk to every day.”

“I was going to say that about you,” she pressed their lips together finally, pushing him back against the headboard.

She laid her head on his shoulder, cuddling into him as she sat in his lap, “I have never loved anyone like this.”

“Me either,” he admitted as he pressed his cheek to her head. “Not even with Maeve, or Derek I know he told you.”

“And your mom,” she smiled. “She actually welcomed me to the family, said she always wanted a daughter. It’s nice to have a mom again.”

That broke him, he finally dropped the tuff boyfriend act he was putting up to hear her feelings, crying at his mother and the love of his life being close. She could tell he was a mamma’s boy, they had a bond Y/N wished she could have with someone. The closest she had to a Diana was Derek, as funny as that was.

She let him cry, not prying into it at all. Letting him take control of his emotions and the conversation. She ran her hands up and down his arm, soothing him softly as he held on to her.

“I was so scared,” is all Spencer says.

“I can imagine.”

“No, I mean about my mom,” he corrects her softly. “I thought the second she got her diagnosis that I ruined everything for her. She was going to forget me before I could even find a person to marry, let alone give her grandkids.

‘She was going to forget me,’ echoed in her mind as she wrapped her head around what he was saying. He was more terrified of losing his mother and missing time with her than he was about being in prison. He really put every ounce of his love into his family, it was beautiful.

“I applied to work at the sanatarium,” is how she answers. “They needed a GP and I need a job. This way I can see her every day, and you can go to work or teach or do whatever and know she’ll be okay. And old people seem nicer than cops and criminals.”

“I love you.”

She laughs, kissing his neck softly. “She’ll be okay, we’ll get her taken care of and who knows, maybe we’ll have more answers before a grandkid rolls around.”

It’s a risk, joking about having kids with him already. But she was ready for a life sentence with him, willing to stay in that god-awful prison as long as he was there. Including if he lost his case.

“You’re too good to me.”

“I try,” she smiled. “You’re pretty fantastic yourself, I didn’t just fall in love with your pretty face, sure you’re helpful and do what I say. But I love you because of what’s in here,” she ran her hand over his chest.

He just held her, silence encapsulating the room finally. The record stopped playing in the living room, no one was on the street at this time of night, the world stopped as she laid in his arms.

The Sunday morning sun was going to start coming up as she stayed up in his lap, both of them settling more against the pillow. She had no plans to get off him, he had no plans to separate from her loving embrace.

a/n: still working on an epilogue idk when it'll be done

Permanent tag list:

@ssacalumsg0lden @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @anaagraceeberr

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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milkyway-writes · 4 years ago

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i’m not ready for that s.r.

pairing: Steve Rogers x black!Reader (anyone could read though)

summary: Even though Steve has been living in modern times for a couple of years now, he still finds himself not used to the present, especially when it comes to women. But when he meets you, an outspoken girl who completely embodies the kind of woman “he’s not ready for,” Steve is forced to reevaluate what he wants.

warnings: 18+, explicit language, dry humping, unprotected sex, sex in a hotel room, a small age gap (but not mentioned much), probably some typos and/or bad grammar, disregard for card games and 60′s music

word count: 2,828

author’s note: This is my first time writing a fic! So, tell me what you think and if you’d like more stuff from me.

After waking up in a world filled with people dressed in unfamiliar clothing, using confusing language, and carrying around these tiny devices they called “phones,” Steve experienced the expected amount of disassociation. He said things which earned him weird looks, struggled to understand modern references, and sometimes secretly wished he could just go back to his own time.

But if anything, Steve Rogers was determined.

He kept a notepad to track the new things he learned and reviewed them in his spare time. He made an effort to listen to the radio and watch popular TV shows. Steve even managed to tailor his wardrobe to a certain degree. Except for the khakis. The khakis were essential.

Despite his acclimation and newfound understanding of the 21st century, Steve still struggled with women. And in all honesty, he doesn’t even feel that open to dating. He’s completely content with simply working and living his life, romance not much of a priority of his.

But Natasha keeps pushing it.

“What about that girl from accounting?” she says, “Laura, Lisa…”

"Lillian,” Steve answers, “lip piercing, right?"

"Yeah, she's cute."

"Yeah, I'm not ready for that.”

•••••

So, when you show up with a total disregard for authority, a smile that could fool the devil, and a snarky attitude all complete with a cute little nose piercing, Steve doesn’t quite know what to do with you.

Your words are much bolder than any woman he knew from the 40’s. You behave with a certain level of confidence and self-assuredness that it’s impossible to believe that you’re only in your twenties. And you don’t shy away from showing men up, never one to hold your tongue. Steve notices that you don’t mind interrupting people. You seem to get a glint in your eye each time he clenches his jaw after you’ve cut him off.

Everything about you is overwhelming to Steve.

Any time he tries to correct you, you scoff, blowing air through your plump lips. Always rolling those brown eyes in annoyance. (It makes Steve want to scream.)

Nothing is ever easy with you. There is always a rebuttal, or some type of teasing remark, or simply a look that tells him “you can’t tell me what to do.” It enrages him. Steve doesn’t think he has ever met a person who could find a way to fight him on every single thing.

Now, as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips, freshly-manicured nails on display, Steve wonders how he’ll ever manage to get through to you.

•••••

You hadn’t known much about Captain America before you’d agreed to work with him and Natasha when S.H.I.E.L.D. started falling apart.

You had been working for the agency for a while now, assisting in the capture of criminal individuals as a sort of immunity for your own crimes. Your skills were too valuable to waste, and honestly, they knew you’d escape any prison they put you in anyway. Despite this, you weren’t the most reliable.

You often took risks, and your youth raised a sort of concern amongst other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. No one trusted a girl whose main motivation to be an agent was to avoid prison. And because of this, Nick Fury did not bring you on for the Avengers Initiative right away. You needed time to grow, time to figure out your priorities.

For two years, you focused on your development, learning how to control your abilities and use them most effectively, and in the meantime, you only took on small missions. You were happy with this, so happy that when Fury began reaching out to you with the intent to bring you back on for more advanced missions, you promptly avoided them.

One quiet afternoon, you were feeling the soil of your succulent, trying to figure out if the plant needed watering when you got the call that Nick Fury was pronounced dead.

Immediately, your stomach dropped.

Your mind was racing as you rushed to the hospital, hoping that this was all some sick joke. A test. Something Fury had comprised to teach you a lesson.

Natasha noticed as you stood frozen at the door of the hospital room. Your heart ached seeing him lie there lifeless.

While you pretended that you didn’t care about him, Fury had always been important to you. He had given you a second chance when you didn’t even think you deserved it. He saw potential in you when others saw you as a delinquent. This grief, coupled with the knowledge that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been compromised, led you to agree to work with Natasha and her new friend, Steve Rogers.

•••••

Since the beginning, your presence had been an immediate concern to Steve. Along with your untamed attitude, he didn’t like the way you would make hasty decisions that left him wondering if you were still alive. He had to bite his tongue at your stubbornness. And each roll of your eyes pushed Steve further and further to the edge. After a while, he had had enough and pulled you to the side to express his disapproval.

You stare at him expectantly with your hands still on your hips, waiting to hear why he’s singled you out.

He lets out a breath, “these antics of yours have got to stop.”

You instantly laugh. Because he has to be kidding.

It takes everything in him to remain calm when you flash him a smile and saunter away, throwing a “oh loosen up, Captain,” over your shoulder.

He has to stop himself from watching your hips sway. He catches your wrist. “No. Not ‘loosen up.’ You need to be more responsible.”

“Well you need to understand that I’m not a soldier,” you yank your arm back. “I’ll follow your plan,” you offer, “but sometimes things don’t go as planned and we have to make adjustments,” you say, speaking slowly as if Steve’s a child.

He steps closer, now towering over your small frame. “Your ‘adjustments’ almost always result in dangerous situations.”

“Really?” You cock your head to the side, “Is that right?”

He narrows his eyes at you.

“So, this is coming from the man who jumped out of an elevator?” Your perfectly arched eyebrow raises tauntingly. “Right?”

You chuckle as he rolls his eyes. You don’t miss the hint of a smile in them.

•••••

You do eventually try to be more of a team player, sticking to the plan when you can. You figured you’d be working with them more often, so it was in your best interest to make yourself easy to work with. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed.

Steve is grateful that you don’t pull any surprises when the Winter Soldier makes his attack. The revelation that it was his best friend already enough to throw him off.

Surprisingly, when Steve decides to go after Bucky, you offer to join him and Sam. Your excuse being that you don’t trust two men to get the job done.

Honestly, you just didn’t want to go back to your life before. Working with Steve was exciting. He was exciting. The way he’d catch your eyes after you’d say something snarky made your stomach flip because there was a hint of a threat in them.

You enjoyed the way he wasn’t afraid to touch you. He liked to grab your arm and pull you to him when you didn’t listen. He’d once backed you up against a wall when he thought you weren’t telling him the full story pertaining to the mission. And while he was angry, you couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like to have him take you right then and there.

You had come to terms with the fact that you wanted Steve Rogers. You just didn’t know if he’d want someone like you. You were aware that he probably hadn’t encountered many women like you in his past life.

•••••

While your eye rolls and sassy comments do remain, Steve finds himself enjoying your presence despite himself. The struggle between the two of you slowly morphing into playful teasing, teetering the line between that and sexual tension.

“How’d you end up here anyway?” Steve asks as he lays down an ace of spades.

You grimace and tuck your king of hearts back into your hand in embarrassment. “We’re on a mission, silly.” You giggle, the diamond in your nose catching the light.

“Mhm very funny,” he says. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You don’t say anything. The only sound coming from your breathing and the Solomon Burke song that’s playing through your phone speaker.

You hum along as you pretend to search your hand for a card to play.

Steve nudges your knee. You’re not sure if it’s because you haven’t answered him or because you still haven’t put down a card.

“You mean how’d I end up doing this? Working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

He nods.

“It’s a long story,” you manage to let out.

“We’ve got time.”

You sigh and place your cards down on the mattress knowing you were gonna lose anyway.

“A while back, I lost someone…someone very important to me,” you say, “and all I wanted was to hurt the people who took them from me.” You glance up to meet Steve’s eyes, “one thing led to another, and I sort of lost myself. I hurt people in ways I never intended to, caused the kind of pain that,” you search for the words, “that I had always been so afraid to feel.”

“I was so blinded by rage,” you shake your head, “I just completely forgot my morals.”

You feel the bed shift, and Steve reaches out for your hand.

“Long story short, Fury offered me a job. Said I could use my skills for good. And next thing you know I’m going on these crazy missions and catching ‘bad guys,’” you say using finger quotes.

You sigh, “you must think the absolute worst of me now, huh?”

Steve chuckles, “no, not at all.” He pauses and his eyebrows crease. “It actually makes me respect you more.”

You let out a laugh, “well then, sir, you are most definitely twisted.”

He shrugs, “maybe I am.”

You notice that he never let go of your hand, and for a second you swear you feel a flutter in your abdomen. Lightly, you slide your fingers up his arm, tracing the veins. He doesn’t move or protest. Instead, he brings his other hand to rest on your knee. You look up at him as his hand moves from your knee up your thigh, gripping you firmly where your shorts end.

Steve looks at you for approval, and when you nod, he pulls you in by your hips and leans in, letting his lips ghost over yours.

You haven’t felt like this in awhile, and it takes a lot of strength to hold back a whine. Steve continues to tease you, only letting his lips lightly touch yours while rubbing circles into your hips under your shirt. Impatiently, you link your hands together behind his head, and when you grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, Steve finally leans in, letting his lips press against yours.

Almost instantly, you climb onto his lap, straddling him. The playing cards from earlier are hastily pushed aside as Steve scoots back, bringing you with him.

His hands find your hips again as he sucks on your bottom lip. You softly grind into him, causing Steve to groan into your mouth. He works to control himself. He hadn’t expected it to feel this way with you. So desperate, so needing.

You can feel his hardness through the material of his sweatpants, making your arousal even more apparent.

Steve leans down to kiss your neck. The feeling of his tongue makes you buck your hips, searching for some type of friction. His hand travels up your side and comes to cup one of your breasts. He runs his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden.

This must give him an idea as he moves to pull your shirt over your head. He grabs you again and takes your nipple in his mouth. You moan, continuing to grind onto him as his hands cup your ass. At this point, you’re sure that your arousal is leaking through your shorts.

Steve feels completely lost in you, your body setting him on fire and awaking something within him he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

He continues his assault on your breasts as you fight to control your arousal. You feel his cock twitch under you. “Please, Steve,” you say breathlessly.

“Please what?” He mumbles around your breasts.

“I need you.”

Those seem to be the words he needed as Steve promptly flips you over, roughly yanking your shorts down. He tosses his shirt off as you grab onto the waistband of his pants, urging him to take them off. He pushes you back on the bed, leaning over you. You feel his knee press into your cunt and let out a moan.

Steve grabs your face, kissing you sloppily, and trails his hand down your body. You nearly grind onto his hand as he places his thumb over your clit and rubs slow circles over it.

“You like that, honey?” He teases as he rubs you over your panties.

You nod, biting your lip.

He grabs your chin, “I said do you like it? Answer me.”

You cry out, “yes, Steve yes,” You whimper, “please I need more.”

He scoffs, “who would’ve thought to get you to act right, I’d just have to play with this pretty pussy?”

You let out a pitiful whine.

“Now you wanna be a good girl huh?”

You’re afraid you’re going to cum just from his words when he stops and drags your panties down so slowly that you want to scream. The smug look on Steve’s face makes your face burn. He’s enjoying this too much.

Once they’re off, Steve settles between your thighs, making you look him in the eyes before reaching his hand down and dragging the head of his cock from your folds to your clit. You moan as he gently taps it against your clit a few times and makes a comment about how wet you are. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he lines himself up at your entrance. Steve groans as he eases into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper.

He bottoms out, and you both moan. Steve begins to thrust, and you’re already so worked up that you know you won’t last long. He brings his hand down to rub your clit causing you to cry out.

His thrusts become more forceful. Your eyes close tightly, your sharp nails digging into his shoulders. He leans his forehead against yours, “I know you want it, sweetheart. I know you wanna cum.”

His words shock you but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

“Come on, honey, cum for me.” Steve says as he thrusts into you. Your walls spasm around his cock, causing him to groan into your neck. He never lets up on his thrusts though, continuing to slam into you as your first orgasm ripples through your body.

“You feel so good around my cock, baby,” he brings a hand up to lightly wrap around your neck.

You groan in response feeling your abdomen tighten once again.

You can tell Steve is close now, his thrusts becoming frantic and rushed. You clutch onto him as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. Your name falling off of his lips repeatedly in your ear.

“Cum inside me, Steve,” you plead, “I wanna feel you.” He groans at your words, and you feel his hand tighten around your throat. You look at him, and his eyes are dark with lust, you feel yourself clench around his length. The look he’s giving you fills you with a primal need. You plead one more time, pushing Steve over the edge. His thrusts begin to slow, the feeling of him filling you up is enough to bring about another orgasm.

You find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Sleep begins to take you, and you drift off with Steve guiding you to lay your head on his chest.

With one hand caressing the side of your head, Steve stares up at the ceiling of the hotel room, Nina Simone’s voice floating out of your phone.

“It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me,”

“And I’m feeling good.”

•••••

Initially, seeing a girl like you would have made Steve doubt himself.

But now, he knows he’s ready for you as he sits next to you holding your hand as you prepare to get your first tattoo.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x black!reader #black reader #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america x reader #enhanced!reader #steve rogers x enhanced!reader #captain america smut #chris evans

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literaila · 4 years ago

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dwindling heartbeats

spencer x reader

request: hi!! could you write an angsty spencer x reader fic where reader and spencer are dating but reader ends up the main suspect in a case? i had a dream about it and i would love you to write it haha. you can come up with the ending (like wether reader was the unsub or not). thank you and i love your writing so so much and i think you could write it really well!!

warnings: criminal mind things, mentions of pain in all forms, anxiety, fear, anticipation?

She liked the way heartbeats sounded.

She liked to listen to them, beating. Quietly but forcefully.

She liked to listen to his heart as he slept. She liked to lay her chest on his head, to breathe in and out with him. She liked it when she could hear his heart flutter, over and over.

She liked to stay awake while he slept. She liked to watch his eyes dance with dreams, liked to watch his sweet smiles dead into the night. She liked to stay awake far later than he could, just so that she could catch these moments. These precious little moments she couldn't seem to get enough of.

She liked to listen to his heart. She liked to listen while her cheek was on his chest, while he held her close to him even in his sleep. She liked to listen to the cautious beating, the strength of his heart. She liked to listen to his heart dwindle off as she slowly fell asleep. She liked to listen to-

She always fell asleep eventually. Always closed her eyes just in time to hear his heart pound once more. She always stayed awake for that moment.

Spencer didn't know.

Of course, he was sleeping, there was no way he could know. And the nights when she stayed up until he woke, until it was morning and the sun was shining through his blinds, and the bed was so warm. Those mornings when she forgot to fall asleep at all. He still didn't know. She always pretended to be half asleep, pretended as she had just woken up. And he had never suspected a thing.

She liked to stay up late. To listen to the world breathe when everyone else fell asleep. She liked the quiet, the mystery that came with night. She liked how dark it was, how silent everyone could be, how peaceful the wind was when it knew not to wake any of the humans up. She liked to stay up late.

And listen to Spencer's heart. To watch his eyelashes flutter against his cheek. And watch him smile silently.

She liked the way hearts beat.

Spencer didn't expect to wake up alone.

He thought of the night before. Thought of all the words and all the laughs the two of them had shared. He thought about the wine they drank, the food they ate.

She was here with him, just last night.

So he hadn't expected to wake up alone.

Usually, when she stayed the night, she would promise that she’d be there in the morning. Usually, Spencer woke up to soft kisses against his cheek, fake biting on his neck. Usually, Spencer woke up with her still in his arms, exactly as she had been the night before.

But this morning, his bed was cold, he woke up to his alarm, and his girlfriend was nowhere to be found.

It was strangely dark in his room. Not sunny like most mornings. It was strange.

Spencer got out of bed within ten minutes, he figured that Y/N had needed to go do something, that she would text him later and apologize for leaving so early.

He wondered how he hadn't noticed her getting out of bed. He was usually a light sleeper.

He got dressed, already running late for work. He was lucky no one had called him in yet, lucky that the serial killers seemed to be taking a break this morning.

But right as he had that thought, his phone rang.

The cuffs were digging into her wrists. Bruises forming while the clock ticked.

At first, she had struggled, screamed at them to let her go, that she hadn't done anything.

But after ten minutes of that, she’d given up. Her body and her mind both done with trying to fight back. Done with trying to fight at all.

They were holding her in a room, one similar to the interrogation rooms she’d seen on TV so many times. In the shows where the criminal always got caught. It was cold, her chair was uncomfortable, and these handcuffs were digging into her wrists.

The cop had left five minutes ago, promising her that they would carry on soon enough.

If she was being honest, she barely had any idea what was going on.

All she knew was that she had planned to go get breakfast for her and Spencer. She got up early, after only a couple of hours asleep, and she’d left his apartment, making sure that she didn't lock it so that she could come back soon. So that he wouldn't have the chance to wake up before she got back. She’d been planning to surprise him.

But when she was walking on the street, a man had approached her, his badge out, his face stern. It was then and there that she had been arrested. Put into handcuffs, sat in the back of a police car while they drove her to the station.

She was so high on adrenaline she couldn't remember if they had ever told her why she was being arrested. She couldn't remember if the man had ever said anything, if he had ever done anything but accuse her and then tie her up. She just couldn't remember.

But her palms were sweaty. She was nervous, even if she didn't think she had done anything wrong. They had brought her in for a reason, hadn't they? They had something against her, some evidence that would prove her guilty for whatever crime she had committed.

God, she wished Spencer was there. He would know what was going on. He would talk to her. He would tell her that she hadn't done anything wrong, that it was going to be okay. It was going to be just fine.

She had just gone to get them breakfast.

And now, and now she was sitting in a grey room alone, practically thousands of miles away from anyone else, from any civilization. She was cold and tired and these handcuffs were bruising and pulling on her wrists over and over.

She wanted to cry. She really wanted to go home.

Why was she so nervous?

Why was she there?

Where was Spencer?

Hotch had pulled him back. As soon as he saw her, Hotch was stepping in his way.

None of them had known. No one had told them anything about a suspect until they were already at the police station, already standing there looking at them. Looking at her. At the girl who they were all familiar with.

When Spencer had first arrived at work, all he knew was that there was a new case. He knew that there were five people dead. Five people in the past three weeks. He was told that those five people probably weren't all, that all of the evidence was pointing to a rapidly devolving unsub, one that wouldn't stop until caught. He knew that all of the bodies were found with multiple stab wounds and head force trauma.

He knew that they were supposed to find whoever was doing this, that he was supposed to help them find the unsub.

But, after a long car ride and many unanswered texts to his girlfriend, he had never expected to see her sitting in a chair so close to him. He had never expected to see her looking around mindlessly, like all of the people who sat in those kinds of rooms did. He hadn't expected to see her next in handcuffs, with wild hair, messy makeup, and tear stains running down her face.

They hadn't even known that there was a suspect yet. They had only been called in this morning.

And Hotch was holding him back.

“Reid.” He said, probably more than once, but Spencer wasn't listening. He was looking at his girlfriend.

She wasn't looking back.

“Detective, no one mentioned anything about a suspect. Why hasn't anyone told us?” Derek said, already catching on to the situation. Rossi and Morgan took steps forward, in front of Spencer so that he couldn't go any further, while Hotch kept his hand on Spencer's shoulder. Holding him back still.

Emily and JJ both seemed to get the hint, they moved on to checking over the files again.

But none of them could hide their glances over to her.

Her.

Spencer's girlfriend, the one that they had all met multiple times. The girl that had changed Spencer so deeply. The usually happy girl, smiling like there was no tomorrow. The girl who was usually right at Spencer's side. The first girl that Spencer hadn't been able to hide from any of them. She was his girlfriend.

She was sitting a room away, handcuffed to a table.

“We only just picked her up this morning, after security evidence came back from the last crime scene.” The Detective answered, no doubt suspicious of the behaviors of the team. It didn't take much brainpower to see that they weren't thinking all that rationally.

“Has anyone been in to talk with her?” Rossi asked.

“We’ve been backed up all morning and-” Hotch stopped him with the palm of his hand. Telling him with only a motion that he didn't need excuses. Spencer was on fire, furious with the detective, furious that anyone assumed that she would do anything, that his girlfriend would cause any harm.

“I can talk to her,” he said, breathing out the anger, trying to remove Hotch’s grip from his shoulder. His eyes were crazed, he ran a hand through his hair, desperate to hear her voice assure him she was okay.

“Reid.” Hotch said again, his face stern, his thoughts not wavering on this one. Spencer couldn't talk to her, it would be a violation, and a terrible idea. A bad situation for the two of them.

Rossi had moved the detective away from them, knowing that what Spencer needed was a moment of privacy, and started distracting him with questions of his own. Questions about the crime scene, about the evidence against Y/N.

Derek walked over to the two of his friends, facing toward the room with Y/N in it.

“I can do it,” he said, whispering so only the three of them could hear. “It won't be a violation of any rules, and I think she’d do well with someone she's familiar with.” He continued, his eyes now focused on Spencer, and how angry he looked at just the thought of not being able to go in and talk to her.

“Morgan..” Hotch said, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

“Hotch, the kids not going to let one of the cops here talk to her, and you’re not going to let him. I can do it.” He assured, face lack of any emotion. He wanted to prove he could be rational. That he could be professional even with Spencer's girlfriend.

Hotch finally nodded, dragging Reid, who was scowling at the sight of his girlfriend still, farther away. “Spencer, maybe you should take a moment. Collect yourself. Go get some air.” he said, trying not to sound like a boss, but rather a friend. Trying to give Spencer the hint that he didn't want him watching.

Spencer didn't catch on, too distracted with Y/N.

“I’m staying here.”

Spencer was firm on that. He couldn't leave her. He didn't know why, or what she had done, but he knew that it was a misunderstanding. He knew that as soon as she was let out of that room he wanted to be there. He knew that she was going to be traumatized, that she probably already was. He couldn't leave her. He wouldn't leave her to be alone with a bunch of accusing strangers.

“Spencer-”

“I’m staying here,” he repeated, moving his eyes away from her for just a second, just so he could make his point clear to Hotch.

And after that, Hotch didn't try to make him leave.

She was almost asleep by the time the door finally opened.

The police officer from earlier had promised that they would get to her soon, that she would be let out of the cuffs as soon as she could be questioned. But it felt like hours since then, and she was sure that whoever that cop was, he was a liar.

She was beginning to get restless, bored with this situation, with not knowing what was going on. She was tired and angry, and all she really wanted to do was go home and listen to Spencer’s heart some more. That would help. She wondered if she could ask.

She shook the thought out of her head. Looked around the room again. Looked for anything to keep her awake.

She wanted to rub her eyes, wanted to get some of the sleep out of her system, wanted to be alert again so she wouldn't miss anything else. But her hand was asleep, her wrists were sore, and she still couldn't move.

She still had no idea what was going on.

She was almost asleep when the door finally opened.

When the familiar face walked into the room.

“Y/N,” Derek said, nodding at her, taking in her obvious distress.

But when she saw him, her mood visibly changed. She almost brightened, almost become someone completely different from the person she was five seconds ago. Her restlessness was gone, she was no longer tired, her eyes widening as he sat down in front of her. She was happy to see someone familiar, someone who wouldn't immediately accuse her.

“Derek,” she said, a smile now accompanying her face. Her eyes were no longer sullen, no longer looking around the room confused.

She sat up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, wanting to get pleasantries out of the way before he had to question her. He hated that Spencer was behind the glass, was watching them. He hated that he had to do this to his friend's girlfriend in front of him. He hated that he knew Spencer would be listening to every word, that he would be counting the minutes down until Derek could prove that she was innocent.

“Why am I here?” She asked instead of answering his question. Ignoring it. Derek was shocked to see that she was actually being serious. Her question was warranted. She was actually confused.

“Didn't the cop that arrested you explain everything?”

Derek, and Y/N for that matter, both knew that it was protocol for police to explain why they were arresting someone. They both knew that if they had broken that rule, this situation could change significantly.

She nodded, then upon seeing his confusion, continued. “I can't remember what they said, I was scared. I don't remember anything after they handcuffed me.”

Derek was still confused. She wasn't someone who would panic in a moment of fear, she wouldn't lose her memories just because she was scared.

This entire situation was strange.

“You’re being charged with the murder of five people.”

And, then, her face changed.

Went from complete curiosity, to dispair. In a fraction of a moment.

Her eyebrows creased, her lips frowned, she was staring at the ground, her entire body tensed at Derek’s words.

And her mood was flipped again.

Tears ran down her face.

She was confused, and worried, and terrified. She had no idea how she could be in this situation? How she could be thought of as a murder? She had no idea why, no idea how, no idea what to do.

“What?” she whispered. Her voice was failing her, her chest was collapsing, her mind was running in circles.

“They have security tapes of you exiting a building, moments after Samantha Brith was killed in a pharmacy three miles from here.”

She was almost asleep by the time she heard the words.

Spencer hated watching this.

He hated that he wasn't in there with her. Hated that he never called her when he woke up, that he didn't think anything of her being gone except for that it was strange. He was angry and confused, and he didn't know when they could have gotten the video of her.

He’d watched it. Once. But multiple times in his head. He replayed it with every question that Derek asked, remembered that she was supposed to be with Spencer that night. That they were asleep when that happened.

How could she be there?

The rest of the team was busy profiling the actual murderer. They were trying to find evidence that provided a different solution other than Y/N. All of them knew that it couldn't be her, it obviously couldn't be, they just had to prove it. Because it wasn't her.

Hotch came to talk to Spencer every couple of minutes. Made sure that he was still okay.

Which he wasn't, but the thought was nice.

Hotch also asked him questions. Wondered how many serial killers devolved as fast as this one was, wondered how exhausting it would be to cause that much harm against a living person. He asked Spencer these questions, and he always got an answer, but Spencer wasn't really listening.

He was watching her. Always watching her. He watched her move her hair out of her eyes, watched her mood change with every question. He watched her hesitate with her answers, saw her confusion.

He watched her with desperation, with another feeling that he didn't know how to describe.

He wondered why she looked so scared. He supposed he could guess the answer. He supposed he would be scared too.

“Spencer,” Hotch spoke, checking on him for the seventh time. “JJ and Emily are going to go ask the bank owner some questions, to gather information about the crime scene of the third body.” He spoke as if Spencer was listening as if he cared when his girlfriend was being interrogated in front of him. “Spencer?”

“Hmm?” he said, still not really listening.

“How is she?” Hotch asked, getting his attention for the first time.

“She seems okay, she looks better than um, earlier,” Spencer said, never once looking at Hotch, keeping his eyes on her.

“Okay. She's going to be alright you know?”

Spencer nodded.

He watched her some more. Felt the desperation in his chest. Felt the fear building in his brain.

When she finally asked for Spencer, the questioning was over.

Derek had asked her so many questions, some that she didn't know how to answer.

No, she didn't remember where she was on the 15th, she didn't know what time she got in bed, she didn't know any of the victims, she didn't know she didn't know. She kept repeating it over and over. No. No. No. No.

She felt like screaming.

It seemed like she didn't know anything. Why didn't she know anything?

But, as soon as Derek nodded, told her that he had asked enough. She asked.

“Is Spencer here?”

She couldn't see him wince at his name from the other side of the wall. She didn't see him lean in a little bit closer to her.

“Yes. He's outside.” Derek said, offering her a smile. One that was small, one that didn't really do anything to ease the feeling in her stomach.

“Can I talk to him?” She asked, her eyes hopeful, her shoulders relaxing with the news that he was there. With the thought that he wasn't far away, that she wasn't alone anymore.

“I don't-” Derek cleared his throat “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

She wanted to cry. Wanted to scream at this friend of hers. Wanted to break through these handcuffs and go to see him. She just wanted to.

She nodded hesitantly. “O-okay. But um, if I can, I’d like to.” She swallowed her scream, forced her tears down her throat, and tried not to pull on the cuffs. Her wrists hurt too much.

Derek nodded, felt ashamed to not have an answer for her. Felt terrible that two of his friends both wanted the same thing so desperately and he couldn't give it to either of them.

When he exited the room, leaving her alone once again, Hotch and Spencer were talking in front of the door. Arguing.

“She asked!”

“Reid you know I can't let you-”

“Hotch she's probably terrified! She needs someone to talk to her, we don't even know what happened yet!”

“Spencer-”

“Please!”

Derek sighed, rubbing his eyes as he walked over to the two of them. Spencer was getting irritated, no longer just at the police, but now at Hotch.

"Hotch," Derek said, interrupting their conversation before it could go any further.

"How is she?" Hotch asked, Spencer, staring at him in disbelief.

"How is she Hotch?! She's pretty fucking terrible I'd assume." He scoffed, turning away from the other two men to watch his girlfriend wipe tears from her eyes.

His beautiful girlfriend. Alone. A murderer.

He almost laughed at the thought.

"Spencer," Hotch said, using a voice similar to one he used with Jack. Spencer was testing his limits, being disrespectful, not following rules. Not acting like himself.

"She's relieved that we're here," Derek answered, watching Spencer stare at her, giving Hotch a fearful look.

Spencer muttered something that neither of them could hear.

"Does she have solid alibis?"

"She doesn't remember much from those nights. Everything is blurred Hotch. I don't know." Derek sighed again, exhausted.

Hotch lowered his voice to ask his next question. "Do you think it's her?"

But even when he whispered, Spencer could hear him.

And the sudden fury he felt in his chest was expected.

"Of course it's not her! She would never do that!" He had never expected Hotch to be doubtful. He felt betrayed at the inference that he would ever love someone who could murder all those people. He had expected his friends, his family, to have his back. To have her back.

"I'm talking to her." Spencer said, a final statement to the two men. He was finally finished listening to everyone else talk, finally finished listening to anything.

"Spencer-" he heard from behind him as he opened the door.

As he walked into the room.

To her.

"Spencer,"

The relief was palpable in her voice. Her body fell apart immediately at the feel of Spencer's hand against hers. It was such a feeling, so different than before. It was like she could finally breathe, she finally knew how to speak.

Now that he was here.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, wrapping her hand in both of his, hating how cold she felt.

She wished she could move closer to him, wished she wasn't chained down. Wished they were still in bed. Wished he would hold her again.

"I'm fine," she whispered back, her eyes concerned. More worried about him than she was about herself.

"You're so cold," Spencer responded, ignoring her lies, ignoring how scared she still looked. He was so glad to be next to her. To be talking to her. "Are your wrists okay?" he asked once he looked down, seeing the red marks around the wrist that was chained to the table.

"I'm fine Spence." She answered, trying to smile at him.

They both sat there for a moment, both remembering the pleasant night they'd had together last night, both thinking about moments that weren't like this one. Moments that weren't quite so scary.

And finally, when they had both breathed in all the time together they could spare, when they had finally used up all the oxygen in the room, Spencer spoke up.

His words brought miles between them.

"You didn't do it?" he said it as if the words hurt him. Like those words would hurt him more than they would hurt her.

She didn't see how that could be possible.

"I don't-" she started, her voice shaking as she felt the feeling in her stomach again. The nauseous feeling. The terrifying one.

"You- you didn't do it? R-right?" Spencer asked again, looking up at her.

And she saw it in his eyes. She saw it. And she knew the answer.

"Right." She breathed out, squeezing his hand.

And Spencer nodded, nodded like the words had solved everything like the words had removed this handcuff from her wrist like he could walk her home now. Like everything was fine.

"Okay," he said, giving her one of his small smiles. "Okay." He said, again, squeezing back.

Okay.

She didn't do it.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

"Spencer-"

"I'm going to get you out of here. Okay?"

She nodded. Spencer took a breath in.

Okay.

She remembered that night.

She remembered the cold wind against her cheek.

She remembered the hand around her waist.

She remembered that feeling.

She'd basked in it.

She'd lived completely numb from that feeling.

And then she'd found it.

She felt the kissssssss against her cheek.

So soft.

"Reid."

Spencer figured that Hotch was going to yell at him, maybe suspend him in the worst-case scenario. He knew that what he did was disrespectful, but he didn't regret it.

How could he when he got to talk to her? How could he regret getting to hold her hand? Getting to hear her voice when she was with him again? Getting to be next to her?

He couldn't. He just couldn't regret it, even if he knew it was wrong.

But when Spencer went to Hotch, there was no reprimanding. Hotch didn't even look mad. Just concerned. His eyes were hesitant, and when he put a hand on Spencer's shoulder, there was nothing but fear in his eyes.

fear.

Why fear?

"What?" Spencer asked, confused. Why wasn't he yelling at him?

"Reid."

"What Hotch?" Spencer asked again, more insistent, starting to get worried. He felt that feeling in his stomach.

"We found something."

Spencer listened carefully.

She remembered the cold air against her skin.

She remembered smiling.

She remembered.

"Before we got here, Y/N was asked for DNA. At one of the first crime scenes, there was DNA left behind, and the lead detective figured that if her DNA was a match, he would have all the evidence he needed."

Spencer nodded. Still confused.

He didn't see the silent shame Hotch felt.

She liked heartbeats. She liked the in and out, she liked the wind, she liked lots of things.

She liked it when she was alone, when she was with him.

She liked she liked she lied. She liked.

She liked heartbeats.

"While you were in there.."

Everyone slowly came over to the pair.

All of Spencer's friends, going over to him, all of them with the same look on their faces. All of them worried. All of them concerned.

Spencer looked back at Y/N. She looked upset.

He wondered when he could get her out.

He looked back at Hotch.

She listened to him every night. But sometimes, she got bored. She got restless. She needed to do something.

She was very good at sneaking out of bed without a notice, without waking Spencer up.

It was fortunate.

She left so many times. So many nights she snuck out.

So many times.

She always made it back for sunrise.

"Spencer, Y/N's DNA..."

Spencer nodded for him to continue. He needed Hotch to get to the point so that they could get her out, so that he could hurry up and get her away from here.

He wanted to go home with her, wanted to see her smile her real smile again. He wanted this to all go away, wanted this fear in his mind to leave.

Get to the point.

"What Hotch?"

She liked it. She hated it.

She liked the quiet of night. She liked how mysssssterious it was.

She liked it, oh god oh god.

She wasn't going to throw up.

Not again.

Not this time.

"It was a match."

Everything.

It had to be.

It had to stop.

Okay?

She liked the way heartbeatss sounded.

She liked to listen to them, beating. Quietly but forcefully.

She liked to listen to his heart as he slept. She liked to lay her chest on his head, to breathe in and out with him. She liked it when she could hear his heart flutter, over and over.

She liked to listen as they faded away.

She was so tempting.

She was a beacon in every room. Everywhere she went. She was a temptation far too charming to resist.

Every night, she stared, watched someone's eyes. And she tempted them so far.

She charmed them without a blink. Without a breath.

She liked it.

She didn't have to do anything before they were lured into her hands, pulled so far in by her wit, by her smile, by her eyes which were oh so hard to resist.

She was irresistible.

And a temptation none of them could ignore. Every one of them.

Every. Single. Time.

She was perfect, far toooo perfect for them far too much far too many far too fun.

She didn't have to think about it every night she snuck away. She didn't have to blink, she didn't have to breathe, she just had to stand there. Just had to feel the cold wind on her chest, on her cheek. She just had to listen.

As the heartbeats dwindled away.

As they faded into the distance.

She was far too perfect to resist. Far too perfect. She was so smart, so charming, so much all at once. And she always knew how to catch them. She knew how to lead, lead them to the end of the earth. She knew she knew how to push them off when they weren't looking. Push them so far, too farrrrr off the edge.

She knew how to kiss them so soft, so quiet as they were done, she knew what she was doing.

She remembered everything. Every night.

She snuck back in bed, she listened to his heart. She liked the way it dwindled off as she fell asleep, the way it faded.

She liked it.

Heartbeats. Disappearing.

my masterlist here.

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morganaspendragonss · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I absolutely love your "the lovers that went wrong" fic - ive been back to reread it several times now because i think its such a good idea and I love the relationship with TK and his mum - if only the show could give us something as good as that! - I was wondering- only if you were interested, could you write something from Carlos' pov with his parents? maybe they can see that TK is more than a friend and they talk to Carlos about him and TK and why he's feeling insecure? if not np :)

thank you so much anon, that’s so sweet of you!! i love this prompt, too - god knows the show probably won’t show us carlos’s pov. it was my pleasure to write it.

a note on the spanish - technically, i do speak spanish but it’s still very much a word in progress, so if any spanish-speakers want to correct me then please do

ao3 | 1.6k | 2.04 spoilers

Carlos can feel TK's eyes burning holes into the side of his head, but he doesn’t look around. He doesn’t want to see the confusion and hurt he knows TK must be feeling - and if that makes him a coward, then so be it. His parents’ gazes are flicking between them, so Carlos distracts his mom by pulling her into a hug, grateful for the brief opportunity to hide his face.

Behind them, his dad is shaking TK’s hand, and Carlos’s entire brain is screaming wrongwrongwrong. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Not like this. Not yet.

He’s not ready.

His mom pulls away and Carlos forces a smile back on his face. They stand in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, Carlos feeling like he’s being scrutinised.

Then, TK speaks. “It was great to meet you, Mr Reyes, Mrs Reyes,” he says, “but I should go. I told my dad I’d meet him and I’ll be late if I don’t leave.”

The lie rolls off his tongue, smoother than Carlos’s had, and Carlos dares a glance over. What he sees is so much worse than he imagined; to any other person, TK looks the picture of innocence, smiling kindly, eyes wide and bright.

But Carlos knows him. He can see the tense set of TK’s shoulders, the way he’s subtly put more distance between them, the hurt hidden deep in his eyes. He feels sick with guilt, but there’s nothing he can do to fix it. Not here.

“I’ll drive you,” he offers, but TK firmly waves him off.

“No,” he says, jaw clenching minutely. “My dad’s place isn’t too far; I can walk.”

“But -”

“It’s fine.”

Their eyes meet, and Carlos is suddenly hit with the force of what he’s done. Everything he’s been so scared of - TK deciding they’re not working, running away, Carlos getting his heart broken - all of that might happen now after all.

And it’ll all be Carlos’s fault.

TK’s hand lands on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Carlos,” he mutters, and then he’s gone, striding back the way they came and taking half of Carlos’s heart with him.

“Is everything okay, mijo?” his mom asks, as Carlos keeps staring after TK even though he can’t see him anymore.

Carlos doesn’t have an answer to that - the casual way they parted cut deeper than he’d ever thought possible, and he doesn’t know if it was just TK keeping up the act or his way of hurting Carlos the way he’d been hurt. Carlos wants to believe it’s the first one, but his less charitable side can’t help but wonder.

He can’t tell any of this to his mom, though, so he braces himself and turns back around, smiling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, surprised by how steady his voice is. “What are you guys doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Clearly,” his dad remarks, faintly amused, but before Carlos can figure that out, his mom is taking his arm and dragging him along with her.

“I was planning on making my chiles rellenos tonight, but your father forgot the chiles when he went shopping the other day.” She sends a reproachful look behind her, but the effect is offset by her fond smile. “You know they do the best ones here, so out we came. And here you are.”

“Here I am,” Carlos agrees through gritted teeth. He tries to extricate himself from her grip. “Look, mami, I don’t want to keep you. I’ll go, and you can -”

She stops suddenly, planting her hands on her hips. “I don’t see my only son for weeks, and the second we run into him, he wants to escape?” she demands. “No. You’re coming home with us, and you can help me with the food.”

“It’s hardly been weeks, mami,” he says weakly, knowing he’s already lost this argument. When Andrea Reyes makes up her mind, nothing can sway her.

“Psshh, details.” She waves her hand dismissively and takes his arm again, leaving Carlos no choice but to follow her to their car. He directs a wordless plea for help back at his dad, but he just holds his hands up, shaking his head.

“Your mother’s right, you know,” he says. “We barely see you these days. Give us the afternoon, at least.”

Which is how Carlos ends up in his mother’s kitchen, silently helping her prepare chiles rellenos and trying not to wallow in his grief over TK.

He fails miserably - miserable being the operative word.

His mom is being suspiciously silent, and if Carlos had any energy left, he would call her out on it. He knows they’re going to end up having a discussion at some point, but he’s in no mood to provoke it. Easier just to let her initiate it herself.

“That boy at the market,” she starts eventually, far too casually for Carlos’s liking. “What was his name again?”

“TK.”

She hums. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

He sighs heavily. “We’re friends, mami,” he reminds her wearily, the lie coming easier this time, which is something he really doesn’t want to read in to.

“I never suggested otherwise,” she says. “He seemed nice.”

“He is.”

She sighs, clearly fed up with his reticence, and sets her knife down. “¿Qué pasa, mijo?” she asks, turning to face him.

“Nada, mami, no pasa nada,” he insists, though he’s not entirely sure why he’s still bothering to lie.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, Carlos Reyes,” she says sharply, startling him. “Soy tu madre; te conozco. Now, I’ll ask again - what’s going on?”

He meets her gaze, seeing only warmth and concern there, and it nearly breaks him. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try me.”

Carlos bites his lip, deciding how best to break the news to her. He’s still not ready, not really, but he’s made his bed. Time to lie in it.

“I’ve met someone,” he hedges, trusting her to fill in the blank of TK’s name. “I’ve known him for a while, but we’ve only been seeing each other for the last four months.”

There’s a brief silence, then, “Why did you not tell us?” she asks, her tone gentle, not at all accusatory. “Is it not serious?”

He hesitates, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I don’t know,” he admits, half-whispering. “I don’t… He… I…”

Carlos shakes his head, giving up on speech. He doesn’t protest when his mom reaches up to draw him into an embrace, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m scared, mami,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears fall. His mom holds him tight, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he shakes in her arms.

They stay like that for a while, until she moves her hands to his shoulders and eases him away from her. “Why are you scared?” she asks. Her eyes narrow. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

Carlos recoils at the thought. “No,” he says, the words bursting out of him in a half-shout. “He would never.”

“Then, what is it?”

He hesitates again, the thought of telling her everything suddenly very daunting. She clearly notices, as she reaches around him to push the half-prepared food away. Carlos’s eyes widen at that; his mom never stops cooking once she’s started. She smiles ruefully, then leads him over to the couch, pulling both of them down onto it.

“Tell me.”

And Carlos does. He doesn’t divulge all of their long, complicated history, but he tells her enough for her to understand. He talks about TK’s reluctance to start anything, his own determination to try anyway. He talks about those days after TK got shot, and the solar storm, and that night under the stars when they finally agreed to give them a shot.

He talks about his fears that it’s all just a fantasy, that any day now the rose-tinted glasses are going to come off and TK is going to realise that he’s made a mistake, and Carlos will be left behind again. And he talks about his guilt for even thinking it, the way he wants so badly to believe that this is it.

Because, for him at least, Carlos is fairly sure that it is. He just wishes (hopes) the same is true for TK.

When he’s done talking, he glances hesitantly over at his mom. She’s watching him with a small smile on her face, her hand gently squeezing his knee.

“Oh, Carlos,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

He grimaces and nods. “I’ve ruined it all,” he says. “I hurt him, and now he’s never going to trust me again.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she admonishes. He frowns up at her, only to meet a spectacular frown of her own. “You’re going to go to him, right now, and explain everything like you’ve just done for me. He’ll listen, and if he doesn’t then clearly he’s not good enough for you.”

“He’s good enough, mami,” he says, cracking a small smile. “I don’t know where he is, though; he was lying when he said he had to meet his dad.”

“Then you’re going to go home and wait,” she says, matter-of-fact. “If half of what you’ve said is true, he’s going to want to talk just as much as you do.”

Carlos doubts that, but he supposes it’s as good a plan as any. He could call TK, but he doesn’t want to rush him. Better to let him decide when he wants to talk to Carlos - Carlos had been the one to hurt him, after all.

He leans into his mom’s side, smiling at her. “Thank you, mami.”

She kisses his temple. “Te quiero, my son. Now, go. If this boy is as good as you say, I’ll never forgive you for letting him go, let alone him.”

Carlos laughs, then gets to his feet and leaves his parents’ house, filled with a sudden determination to fix this.

He doesn’t think he could live with himself if he didn’t at least try.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star spoilers #lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #tk x carlos #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserpaige #anonymous

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writing-wrxngs · 4 years ago

Text

Overnight Babysitting

(Heyo! Been a minute! I’m juggling like a shit ton of one shots along with the long form fic I’m desperately trying not to abandon so that’s why I disappear sometimes. Also being back with my parents is Not Fun so my vibes have been completely off for weeks. I do have something for you though! It’s fuckin massive too, it took forever lmao)

Phil turned to Techno and Wilbur one last time as he put on his coat to go. “And you’re sure you’ve got this?”

Techno nodded. “We’re sure.”

“Positive? I’m going to be gone all night.”

“We’ve got this!” Wilbur said, full of self assurance. “It’s not going to be much different than any of the other times we’ve watched Tommy.”

“Well yeah,” Phil agreed, “but it’s still a long time. I didn’t expect you boys to be alone this long ‘til you were older. This was unexpected.”

Wilbur scoffed. “We’re plenty old! Me and Techno are teenagers now!”

“Right, right. No matter what, I have to go so I suppose I have to trust you two,” said Phil. “You know everything you need to do?”

“Yeah,” said Techno. “We’ve got leftovers for dinner, keep Tommy entertained for a bit, make sure he gets ready for bed, put him to bed and get ourselves to bed.”

“And what does getting Tommy ready for bed entail?”

“Run him a bath, for one,” cut in Wilbur before Techno could answer. “Get him some clean pajamas and make sure he brushes his hair and teeth, then it’s bedtime.”

They actually remembered. Phil had been drilling that into both of the boys all day as soon as he found out he would have to leave, but he was worried they weren’t actually listening. It was quite reassuring really. By all means, leaving two thirteen year olds in charge of a child overnight was unwise, but it was necessary. Techno and Wilbur were capable boys. And clearly, knew what they had to do. Phil smiled proudly. “Alright, I actually think you two can do it now. I have to be going now,” he said. He called Tommy over and picked the boy up to give him a hug goodbye. “You be good for your brothers while I’m gone,” he said.

“I will!” said Tommy.

Both Techno and Wilbur knew that was a lie. They had been alone with Tommy before. As soon as Phil was out the door, Tommy would find some way to cause a problem for them. It was just in his nature. Neither of them could say anything about it, though. Instead, they shared the same doubtful silence and a glance of disbelief.

Phil set Tommy down, and opened the front door. “I should be back by morning, try your best not to destroy anything! Take care, boys!” He said as he left.

“We will!” Techno and Wilbur said in unison. Techno closed the door, giving one last wave to his father as he walked away into the evening light.

Wilbur leaned down to Tommy. “I know in a minute you’re going to become a thorn in our sides but can you do one good thing first? Run ahead and get the table ready for dinner. It won’t take me and Techno long to make dinner ‘cause we just have to heat it up on the stove.”

Tommy scrunched up his nose. “I guess,” he said, running off to the kitchen.

Watching Tommy run and disappear, Wilbur crossed his arms and looked at Techno with concern. “What do you suppose Dad meant by should?”

“Well, should typically means that it might not happen but he’s clearly fairly certain it will.”

Wilbur glanced to the direction of the kitchen. “And if it doesn’t?”

Exhaling, Techno paused in thought. “We deal. Act like everything is fine. Take Tommy to school, go to school ourselves, and go from there. If he’s not back by the time school lets out, then we worry.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Wilbur nodded in agreement.

“That’s not going to happen, though. He’s never not come back when he said he would. There’s nothing to worry about. What happened to the bravado you were showing off earlier?”

“Just a front, you know how I am. I don’t want Dad to worry about us. He’s clearly on some serious business. You’re right anyways. Like I told him, we can handle this, and I’m gonna prove that right now,” said Wilbur, shaking off the worry he had before. “Let’s get dinner now before the kid realizes something’s up”

The two joined Tommy in the kitchen, getting the soup that Phil and Techno had made from their garden vegetables last night and putting it on the stove.

“Look!” Tommy said, tugging on Wilbur’s sleeve.

Wilbur turned to the rest of the kitchen while Techno stirred the soup.

“I set the table just like you said! I even got matching bowls this time!” Tommy said proudly.

Smiling, Wilbur gently shooed Tommy away. “Good job, kid. Why don’t you sit down now, foods almost done.”

Tommy nodded and ran to his seat.

After that, the soup was done, and Wilbur sat down while Techno ladled out servings for the three of them. “Thanks,” he muttered to his brother.

Techno just nodded in response and sat down himself. “Careful Tommy, it might still be hot,” he cautioned.

“I know,” said Tommy. He blew on a spoonful of soup before eating it. After he swallowed he looked at both of his older brothers. “How come Dad had to leave all of a sudden?” He asked.

Both of them shook their heads. “He didn’t say,” said Techno.

Tommy shrugged in response. “Weird,” he said, turning his attention to dinner instead. He was only five, but he already understood his fathers idiosyncrasies. If Phil didn’t want anyone to know, nobody would be told, and that was the end of the story. It would work itself out, so why worry?

The brothers spent the rest of dinner just chatting and teasing each other, just spending time in each other's company without Phil there to reign them in. As much of a pain babysitting could be, it honestly was fun, just to have that freedom. Sure, Tommy’s usual little brother bothersome-ness increased without any real authority to stop him, but Techno and Wilbur could dish back out their older brother teasing more, too. Eventually, they all got done and piled up the dishes in the sink.

Wilbur stood at the sink. “Who’s on dishes tonight?”

“You, I think,” said Techno.

“Bullshit!” retorted Wilbur. “I did them last time!”

“No you didn’t!”

Wilbur stopped before he yelled back. “Wait, did you?”

“No, Dad said I helped out enough with dinner.”

“Then who did them last time? We’re the only ones who know how to wash dishes.”

“We’d know if Dad did because he complains when he does them,” said Techno.

“Did we-?” asked Wilbur, afraid to finish the sentence.

“Oh god,” Techno said, not needing the sentence to be finished. He checked the sink. “Well, the answer is nobody did the dishes and Dad’s been too busy with whatever’s got him occupied to notice.”

“Shit,” muttered Wilbur. “Split the work?” he suggested.

“Someone’s gotta watch Tommy.”

Wilbur shook his head. “No we don’t. He’s at that age where he thinks chores are cool because he can pretend to be grown up. We can rope him into this, easy. Watch,” he said, walking out to the living room, where Tommy was sitting. “Hey Tommy,” he said, putting on a grin. “Wanna help me and Techno with some big kid stuff?”

Grinning at the opportunity, Tommy nodded. “Yes!” he exclaimed, running out to the kitchen.

“Pull a chair up to the counter,” Wilbur said to Techno as he came in behind Tommy. “We’ve got a third set of hands.”

Techno did as he was told, and Tommy hopped up on the chair. “You know how to work this kid too well, Wilbur,” he joked.

“So what am I doing?” Tommy asked eagerly.

Tossing a dry dishcloth to Tommy, Wilbur said, “drying duty. I give you a dish, you dry it. Break one and we kill you.”

Tommy chuckled. “You can’t kill me ‘cause then Dad will kill you.”

“And it’ll be your fault we’re dead,” Techno said in response. “Let’s get to work now.”

The dishes eventually got done, with only one soap fight ensuing between them all somehow, and all the dishes clean. They were all dried too, and all unbroken, so no little brothers were murdered that night.

Checking the clock as he dried himself off, Techno turned to Wilbur in shock. “Wil. Tommy was supposed to be taking his bath like, five minutes ago.”

“What?” Wilbur said, also checking the clock. “Oh god,” he said.

Techno was already rushing to the bathroom. “I’ve got the bath handled. Get Tommy and get him clothes. If we hurry, we won’t be behind.”

Wilbur didn’t really have any choice but to agree. Techno had already set the plan in motion. The two of them had shooed Tommy off to the playroom while they finished cleaning up. He walked down, and found him there still, playing with some playset he had gotten for his birthday. Not even greeting him or saying anything really, Wilbur picked Tommy up, tucked him under his arm like a lumpy suitcase and went back out.

Obviously, Tommy struggled against his grip. “Wha- Wil!” he cried. “What’re you doing? Put me down!” he said, punching Wilbur’s ribs in defiance. “Wilbyyy!” he complained.

“You can’t baby-talk your way out of this, Tommy,” Wilbur said as he climbed the stairs. “We screwed up and now you missed you stupid bathtime.”

Tommy was finally released at the door to his bedroom. He scowled at his brother.

“Pick yourself out some pjs. Something you can dress yourself in, cause I’m not helping you and neither is Techno.”

“Fine,” Tommy said, running into his room. He returned with the clothes he needed.

Wilbur snatched them to make sure that they were a matching set, which they were, and that there wasn’t any reason Tommy would have trouble putting them on. No buttons, no long sleeves, all good. He gave them back to Tommy, and rushed him down the stairs to the bathroom.

By the time it took for Wilbur to get Tommy’s clothes and come back, Techno had filled the tub and already had the bubbles in. Him and Wilbur got Tommy in the bath and gave the boy his privacy after that, checking every so often just to make sure he hadn’t drowned.

Tommy came out of the bathroom, cleaner and in his pajamas. He still wore the same indignant expression he had from before. “Now it’s bedtime, right?” He asked, mustering up as much bite as a five year old could.

“Sure is,” said Techno.

“Wil, you didn’t have to pick me up like that,” Tommy said as he passed by the two and up the stairs.

Wilbur followed Tommy, as did Techno. “Well Tommy, the thing is, you have a penchant for being a brat and not doing as you're told,” explained Wilbur. “Sometimes it’s faster to just use force rather than try and talk you into something or fight with you.”

Turning back to Wilbur, Tommy said, “wait, what's a penchant?”

“It means you like something. Like how you like to change the subject when you’re being told off.”

Tommy just ignored that. He went down the hall to his room and waited for his brothers to come.

Techno and Wilbur just stood at the top of the stairs looking at him.

“Who’s gonna put me to bed?”

Both twins crossed their arms and looked at each other. Of course Tommy would pull something like this. “I handled the bath,” said Techno.

Wilbur sighed in annoyance. “You did. Fine. I’ll put him to bed,” he said, rolling his eyes as he followed his little brother into his room.

Tommy climbed into his little wooden bed and got underneath the sheets. He grabbed his favorite stuffed animal, a raccoon Wilbur had won at a fair and held it close. “Thanks Wilby,” he said.

Doing the obligatory tucking in, Wilbur couldn't help but let out a smirk. That kid knew how to press his buttons as much as Wilbur could press his. “No problem,” he said. “Aren’t you getting a little old for this though?”

Making a face in thought, Tommy nodded. “Yeah… but I wanted to tonight cause I’m kinda scared about going to bed without Dad. It’s lonely when it’s just us.”

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” Wilbur said, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “He’s gonna be back before we even wake up, and me and Techno will be right in the next room ‘til then.”

Snuggling into his bed, Tommy smiled. “Okay!” He said. “Goodnight, Wil.”

“Night, Tommy,” Wilbur said as he turned out the light and left the room. He went to his and Techno’s room to get to bed himself. Or more likely, get in bed and stay up far too late for his own good.

Techno, who had already changed into pajamas and was in bed, looked up upon Wilburs arrival. Looking back down at the book he was reading, he greeted Wilbur but said no more.

Rifling through his dresser for a shirt to sleep in, Wilbur chuckled to himself. “Tommy’s something else, y’know? Poor kid just didn’t want to be alone at bedtime. It’s so weird,” he said, finding a shirt and changing into it. “You kinda just have to tell kids that it’ll be okay, but you don’t know that. It doesn’t feel like lying, though. It’s just… the right thing to do. You suppose Dad’s had to do something like that?”

Having closed the book due to Wilbur’s rambling, Techno nodded. “Well yeah, just think about it. I’m sure there’s dozens of things Dad’s covered up for us when we were little. We just don’t remember ‘cause we thought it was nothing.”

Wilbur got into his bed and hummed in agreement. “Oh, absolutely. I just think it’s odd how we don’t really think about it.”

“Well can you think about it quieter? I was reading before you came in.”

“There’s not much else to think about on that subject. I’m just gonna sleep anyways,” Wilbur said, taking his glasses off and putting them on his bedside table then rolling over to face the wall.

After some time, Techno too got tired, and set down his book before doing the exact same ritual. Glasses on the table, rolled over to face the wall. A mirror image.

The two fell asleep, despite Wilbur’s belief that he’d be up all night. Being around Tommy can be tiresome. They both slept peacefully in their room until a sound woke Wilbur up. Crying. Before he could get up himself, his sheets were ripped from him. Rolling back over, he fumbled for his glasses and put them on for a minute.

Tommy. He’d woken in the middle of the night, and was clearly upset. “Wilbyyy,” he cried, “I had- I had,” he hiccuped. “I had a bad dream and I can’t sleep.”

Annoyed, Wilbur pulled his blanket back up. “Tommy, you can if you try. Just get back in bed.”

The boy sniffled and pulled at Wilbur’s sheets in protest. “Nuh uh, I don’t wanna. I’ll be all by myself in there!” He said through tears.

Oh. Of course. The kid wasn’t scared of some dream he had or monsters under the bed. He was just lonely. Little brat melted Wilbur’s heart. “Lemme guess. You don’t wanna go to sleep alone?”

Tommy shook his head emphatically.

“Fine,” Wilbur said, already taking his glasses back off. He made some space on his bed. “Get in you little crybaby.”

His demeanor already changed, Tommy climbed in next to his big brother and snuggled in. “Thanks again,” he mumbled, already sleepy again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wilbur said, also setting into bed. “Don't mention it.”

Finally, all three boys were to bed and asleep peacefully. Tommy wasn’t even a pain to share a bed with. Apparently, sleep was the only time that kid was completely still. Wilbur didn’t lose any sleep at all.

Like he had promised, Phil was back in the morning. It was still quite early, long before any of the boys would need to be up. He had stopped in the bathroom first, to get the first aid kit. His little trip had gotten him some bad injuries, but he could fix them up before any of his boys ever knew. And likely never would know. After that he went upstairs. It had been a sleepless night for him, and he was dying to see a bed.

Of course, he had to see if his kids were asleep first. Techno and Wil’s room was the first in the hall, and he popped his head in there first. Techno was asleep, his long hair splayed all around him and flowing onto his face. He looked over to Wilbur’s bed and couldn’t help but grin. Wilbur was asleep, a surprise of course, based on how sleepless the boy usually was, but there was another thing that took Phil by surprise. Tucked under Wilbur’s arm, fast asleep and smiling vacantly, was Tommy. For once in their lives, his sons weren’t fighting or getting up to something. Phil didn’t know what led to this moment, but wasn’t particularly worried with that. Whatever it was, it was just proof that his boys could handle themselves, and Phil was proud. Still smiling, he left the room and went to his own, collapsing onto his bed and finally sleeping himself.

#mcyt #mcyters #mcytblr #mcytumblr #minecraft youtube #minecraft yt #minecraft youtubers #wilbur soot #technoblade #tommyinnit #philza #philza minecraft #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc family dynamic #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy bois inc fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction

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eevee-eclair · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Look Me in the Eyes

Written by Eevee

Things to look out for: Blood, stitches, bandages, fighting, screaming, Ranboo goes feral, Unsympathetic!Dream (just incase), Dadza, Big Bro Techno, a long day, mention of L’manburg (RIP), mention of death/torture, spoilers for a book (Eragon), hunger, fever, (please tell me if I missed one)

Random side note: The small mini fic I planned for this to be was thrown out the window. Have at this, I guess. This is my first time writing for this fandom too, so if I get stuff wrong (more specifically the characters wrong) please forgive me. (More at the end)

Also consistency? Who’s that?

~~~

Ranboo walked outside, feeling weighed down by everything. It had been a long day. L’manburg was gone, he still didn’t know if Techno was gonna kill him or not—let alone trust him—, and even though he was living with Phil and Techno he didn’t have a house, just a small shed. Oh, and on top of it all, he promised one of the most powerful people on the server something he might not be able to provide.

Ranboo sat down in the snow and covered his face, trying not to scream or cry. He heard the soft crunch of snow under two pairs of feet coming closer.

“Ranboo?” He recognized the voice as Phil’s.

Someone crouched next to him. “Hey, you good, bro?” That was Techno.

He let out a pathetic sigh. “It’s just too much,” he mumbled.

Ranboo registered Phil putting his wings around him, trying to comfort him. If he was being honest, it was making him feel trapped.

“Yeah... We’re sorry about that,” Techno said, messing with his braid. “But it had to be done.”

He lifted his head, still not looking at them but he could feel their gaze. It made him feel uneasy, so he let out a small grunt—almost Enderman like. “Just because it was necessary doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” he grumbled. There was a slight edge to his voice.

Phil sat down. “It’ll be okay. Healing takes time so you’ll be okay eventually!” He was trying to cheer him up but it was only making him feel worse.

Ranboo pulled at his hair, his eyes glowing a little. “I’m tired of waiting!” he wailed. “It hurts!”

Techno sighed. “We know, Ranboo. We’ve both been there,” he said, looking at Phil. “It takes time, but it’s worth it in the end.”

The hand he placed on his back was the final nail in the coffin. Ranboo stood up and let out a cry that sounded exactly like an angry Enderman. His eyes were bright and he looked almost in pain.

Phil jumped away and drew he sword while Techno drew his rocket launcher. “Ranboo, i-it’s okay!” Phil tried to reason. “Just-just calm down!”

Ranboo drew his sword and screamed again.

Techno put a rocket in. “Put the sword down,” he said, aiming for his chest. “Don’t make us do this, Ranboo.”

Phil was going to say something else when he made the mistake of looking at his eyes. Ranboo ran at him, almost as if he wasn’t controlling his actions. He blocked every swing he threw but was quickly tiring. He was just too fast. Techno fired the rocket and it hit Ranboo square in the back, trying to help Phil.

Ranboo screeched loudly, causing the other two to cover their ears. He ran at him, angrier than ever.

“Techno, log out!” Phil cried, following his own advice and leaving the game. Techno quickly copied, leaving Ranboo alone.

When they got back, Ranboo was face down in the snow. His sword was stuck in the ground next to him as red and green blood soaked the snow around him. They ran over, horribly worried.

“Oh god,” Techno muttered, crouching next to him. He noticed blood coming from his mouth as he flipped him over. “Shit, what did we do?”

Phil covered his mouth and fell next to him. “Ranboo, please wake up!” he begged, shaking him a little.

“He’ll be out for a while.”

They turned to see Dream standing over him. The sun hit his back, making him look more powerful than he was. The axe in his hand dripped with the blood that definitely belonged to Ranboo.

“What did you do?!” Phil cried, hugging the unconscious body of their friend.

“I saved you,” he said simply. “He would’ve killed us all if I hadn’t stepped in.”

Techno stood up. “We’re miles away from everyone and we had already logged off. Who the fuck were you trying to save?!” he spat.

Dream turned to him, that mask blocking all emotions. “Myself? Himself? Couldn’t you see how unstable he was?” he asked, shoving his axe into the ground.

“We had it under control,” Phil hissed. “Go away.”

Dream laughed a little before grabbing his axe and shrugging. “Alright. You’re welcome by the way,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

Phil and Techno watched him walk away before they turned their attention to Ranboo. They just realized the large cut that stretched from just below his collar bone to just above his hip.

Techno quickly ripped his cape to stop the blood that was oozing out. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of his good ones.

“It doesn’t look that deep so he might be fine,” he told Phil, looking up. “But I can’t promise anything.”

Phil nodded, running his fingers through Ranboo’s hair. He was being horribly reminded of Wilbur at the moment. “Okay,” he whispered. He wiped tears from his eyes. “J-just try, please...”

Techno stood up and tried to pick him up and pry him away from Phil. “Come on, I can’t help him if you don’t let go,” he said gently, keeping in mind how Phil must be feeling.

Phil reluctantly let him go, his wings drooping as he watched Techno carry him into the house. He looked away from the red and green trail that was left behind.

———

Techno quickly put some slabs down to lay Ranboo on. He dug around for bandages, water, and a healing potion before walking over. He peeled back the cloth that had stuck to the wound before he started to clean it.

Phil walked in and leaned against the wall, watching him work. He was silently crying and became more worried when Techno drew in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” he asked, running over.

Techno looked at him and frowned. “It’s gonna need stiches,” he told him, digging through his chests.

Phil started to bite his nail as he watched Techno pull out a needle and thread.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Phil looked up. “What now?”

“I have nothing to numb the pain...”

“He’s unconscious, he won’t feel it,” he said, but he was still just as nervous.

Techno but his lip. “I don’t want him waking up in pain, though.”

Phil sighed. “Then splash him with regeneration after.”

Techno nodded and grabbed another. “Okay then...”

He threaded the needle before walking closer to Ranboo who was still out cold. He managed to get six stitches in before he let out a heavy sigh and stepped away.

“I can’t do it, Phil... I can’t risk hurting him,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“And I can’t risk losing him!” Phil responded, picking up the needle and finishing what he had started. “I lost Wilbur and Tommy! I’m not losing another son!” he cried as he sewed.

Techno decided not to mention him calling Ranboo his ‘son’. He looked at the fire and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Phil tied the thread and started to wrap Ranboo in bandages. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, you did nothing wrong.”

He wanted to argue that all three times he lost a ‘son’ was his fault, but he decided that was a conversation for another day. Instead he walked over with the splash potion. He threw it at Ranboo and they watched his face that was previously screwed up in pain, melt into relief.

“No we just gotta wait for him to wake up,” Phil said. Then he turned to Techno. “Come on, let’s go find something to do while we wait.”

Techno followed him downstairs, both worried about whether or not Ranboo would live. They were praying he does.

———

Ranboo woke to a pounding headache and a horrible pain in his torso and back. He tried to sit up but immediately fell back down with a strangled cry as the pain in his chest flared up in protest.

Breathing heavily he looked down to see bandages wrapped around his whole chest. He shakily reached over and touched them. He hissed in pain and laid his head back down.

He looked around and came to the horrifying realization that he was back in Techno’s house. A million different senecios raced through his head at once.

Had Techno tired to kill him and Phil saved him? Did he do something stupid and since Techno needed him to get the axe back he saved him? Did he save him to do something worse to him later?

Ranboo was pulled from his spiraling when he someone snapped in front of his face. Looking over he came face to face with Phil with Techno right behind him.

“Ranboo, it’s okay. Calm down,” he soothed, sitting next to him.

“W-what happened?” he asked quietly, lifting his head. His voice felt raw and cracked horribly.

Techno looked at him in sympathy. “You don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “I-I remember you guys trying to h-help me with... something...” he mumbled, looking at the ceiling.

Phil bit his lip. “You kinda... Snapped. You tried to kill us, too,” he added hesitantly.

Ranboo’s eyes widened. “Phil I-I’m so so sorry!” He looked at Techno. “I-I didn’t mean to! Ple-please don’t kick me out,” he begged, trying to sit up.

Both Phil and Techno phushed him back down. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay!” Techno reassured, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m not gonna kick ya out, dude. Don’t stress yourself.”

He dug around in one of his chests and pulled out an empty bottle. He jumped down the ladder and filled it before climbing up and offering it to Ranboo. “Here, drink this,” he said, helping him sit.

Ranboo winced as he was sat up and leaned into Phil for support. He took it the bottle, almost afraid of it, before drinking. It was empty too soon but he felt better anyway—even if it burnt a little. “Thanks,” he muttered. “That’s a lot better...”

Techno took the empty bottle and Phil wrapped a wing around him. “How do you feel?”

Ranboo looked at him tiredly. “Not good... I’m sorry again, by the way. If you guys want to kick me out, I understand.”

Phil started to run his fingers through his hair, earning him a soft content hum. “It’s alright, we won’t make you move. Can I see how you’re healing?” he asked, changing the subject.

He nodded and laid back down. Phil got up and looked around for scissors. He couldn��t find any so he settled for a diamond axe and walked back, ready to cut the bandages off.

Ranboo took one look at the sharp object and a frightened Enderman-like croak came from him. He stopped moving and lowered the axe. “Ranboo..?”

“I-I’m sorry, the axe just makes me nervous...” he muttered. Again, there was a slight darkness in his voice.

Techno nodded. “Understandable. After what you just went through, I’m not surprised. Use a hoe, Phil,” he said, looking at him. “They’re still sharp.”

Phil quickly tossed the axe in a chest and dug for a hoe. He found a stone one, deemed it sharp enough, and walked over. This time, Ranboo stayed still but he still looked nervous.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Phil said, slicing the bandages away. As he peeled them back he took a good look at the stitching.

Ranboo’s eyes widened and he went a little pale. “Wh-what happened?” he stammered, not taking his eyes off the thread holding him together.

“Well, after you started to attack us, Phil and I combat-logged to see if that would calm you down. I guess in that short time we were gone, Dream found you and almost sliced you in half with his axe. Which explains why you were nervous when Phil tried to use one,” he explained while Phil checked the wound.

A small ‘oh’ was all he could say. He looked shaken, in Techno’s opinion.

Phil stepped back. “I hate to interrupt, but it’s not looking the best. It needs cleaned so it has a less chance of being infected,” he said, looking for something to use.

Techno handed him the rest of his torn cape. “Just use this, it’s ruined anyway.”

He took it and went downstairs to wet it down. When he came back, Teachno looked panicked. He quickly ran over.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked. “Is he okay?!”

Techno stepped away. “I don’t know! He said he was tired so I grabbed a pillow to put under his head and when I went back I touched his cheek. He’s burning up!” he said.

Phil quickly ripped the soaked cloth in half and laid the smaller bit on Ranboo’s forehead and used the other to clean the wound.

Looking down, Ranboo had fallen back asleep despite the chaos. “Hand me a healing potion,” he said, looking at Techno.

He nodded and handed on to him. Phil popped the cork and poured it over the wound, hoping it would help. “Bandages,” he requested, holding out his hand. Techno handed him some and he wrapped them around Ranboo’s stitches before tying them off.

“That should work. When he wakes up again, he can eat.” He turned to go outside when Techno stopped him. He looked scared.

“Please don’t leave,” he mumbled after a moment.

Phil pulled him into a hug. “I won’t,” he said, putting his wings around him. “I won’t leave, but I have to get a bucket of water to keep him cool so the fever doesn’t get worse, okay?”

Techno nodded and let him go. When he returned with the bucket of water, he was sitting next to Ranboo and reading a book. Phil smiled and put a block down to sit on.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked as he took the cloth off his head and wet it back down.

Techno looked up, his reading glasses slipping down his nose a little. “Eragon.”

Phil nodded. “Care to read to me?”

He nodded and started to read out loud. That’s how they spent the next hour, Techno reading to Phil as he tried to keep Ranboo’s fever down. As he read, Techno started to forget about his worries and focused on Eragon and Saphira’s adventures.

———

“A dark liquid dripped from the tips of her fingers. Eragon knew it was blood,” Techno read. He yawned and closed his book. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed,” he muttered.

“But what happened to the woman in his dream?”

Both men jumped and turned to see that Ranboo was awake. He looked tired, but there was a small smile on his face.

“How long have you been listening?” Phil asked, taking the wet cloth away.

Ranboo shrugged. “Just that last bit.” He tried to sit up and winced.

Techno went to put his book away. “How do you feel?” he asked, taking the glasses off.

“Like shit,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’ve got a headache, my throat burns, and my chest feels like it was ripped apart. Oh, and my back aches.”

Phil dipped the cloth back into the water and laid it on his head. “That’s to be expected. Would you like some water?” When Ranboo nodded he helped him sit up. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

Techno looked at Ranboo before digging through a chest and pulling out a baked potato. “Hungry?” he asked, offering it.

Ranboo nodded grabbed it, eating quickly. Phil returned and gently took the potato away, handing him the water. “Slow down, you’ll hurt yourself,” he said, smiling.

He started to drink and winced as it burned a little again, but kept drinking. When he was done he went back to eating the potato.

Techno and Phil pulled out their own food and started to eat with him. When they were all done, they sat back with Ranboo.

“Feeling better?” Phil asked. When Ranboo nodded he smiled. “Good. Can I change your bandages before you go back to sleep?”

He nodded again and laid down. Phil set to work with changing the bandages quickly. Afterwards, he saw that Ranboo was back asleep.

“We’ll have to remind him about this later,” Techno said after a while. “And I don’t think he’ll be happy about it.”

Phil sighed. “I know, but he might thank us later. At least he’s safe.”

Techno nodded and started to walk downstairs. “At least he’s safe...”

Phil watched him go before turning to the sleeping Ranboo. ‘He’ll be okay,’ he thought. Who the ‘he’, he didn’t know.

~~~

THIS GOT SO LONG IM SO SORRY!!

I hope you enjoyed, please forgive me if things are wrong! I hoped you liked it!!

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captaincravatthecapricious · 4 years ago

Text

Is That Your Blood? Prompt Fill

Jon is missing. Martin and Tim need to get him back.

cw blood, references to nonconsensual touching canon typical of the circus, canon typical levels of Tim being self destructive

This is one I wrote last week for my bingo prompts! I have started writing the another, but please be patient with me I got very behind doing things while I was writing so much and now I am mostly caught up but the serotonin and motivation levels are low. I am still accepting bingo prompts, but again it might be slow going for a bit. Let me know if you want art or fic and which character you want! (Pro tip, I am much faster at the art). The starred prompts are ones I already have and have outlined, the crossed out ones are already written and posted. Card by the wonderful @celosiaa

Jon is missing.

Tim should have known it immediately. He should have noticed the second he was gone. But Jon had gone to see Georgie, and wasn’t clear if he was planning on staying with her or going back to Tim’s flat. He should have known Jon would have come back if he could. He had been glued to either Martin’s or Tim’s side.

Just barely well enough to work. Still small and weak and breakable. Still occasionally dizzy. Still aching headed when he worked for too long. Hands still painful and sore.

And he’s gone. And Tim should have known sooner.

And there is one smug bastard who could tell him where Jon is, but the slimy twat just gives him a placid smile saying “he doesn’t know.” Utter bullshit.

Which is why Martin and Tim have a whole box of statements and a lighter.

When Elias storms out of his office, Tim gives him the most innocent of smiles, as if he isn’t actively holding a burning statement in the middle of the hall. “Oh hey, double boss, how’s it hanging?”

Elias looks very very angry, but also like he is trying to look nonplussed. And failing. “These documents are for archiving, not kindling. There will be repercussions for these actions.”

Tim drops his smile. “And there are repercussions for whatever you’ve done to Jon. I don’t care what you do to me, I’ll set the whole archives alight if you don’t tell me where he is.”

Something dangerous and self destructive and manic must have shown on Tim’s face, because Elias grumble something about it probably being long enough anyhow and finally gives them an address, which Martin is scribbling down before Elias can even turn on his heel.

“Well that went well!” Says Tim brightly.

Martim hmmmms. “We might want to be concerned about those repercussions? But… we can worry about that once Jon is back.”

Tim snorts. “What can he do? Not like he can even fire us. And if he does, we’re better off.”

Martin drops his burning statement in the bin, looking unreasonably disappointed about the lack of continued arson that they would be committing, (or rather wouldn’t be committing). “But you won’t leave until we’ve stopped the Unknowing.”

Tim’s face darkens again. He can feel it, and he doesn’t care at all. “You’re right.”

“Right… You will try and come back from it… Please?”

Tim shrugs. “Ask me once we get Jon back.”

The drive to the wax museum is tense. Things are easier between Martin and Tim than they have been in months, but their shared concern is palpable. Jon is missing. Jon is kidnapped. Jon is possibly hurt. The circus has Jon. The Circus. That Circus Tim has screamed himself awake over more nights than he can count. And he wishes that he could just set the whole thing on fire right now. he doesn’t want to wait, now that he knows where they are.

Fuck caution. Fuck everything. He wants his revenge.

But… but Jon.

He can’t lose Jon.

Not like he lost…..

He can’t even think their names without shattering like thin glass dropped in boiling water.

They find Jon. He isn't guarded. He's tied to a chair, very naked, very bruised, and very bloody. He's suspiciously shiny looking and smells strongly of something artificial and floral.

He's shivering. And Tim's blood boils.

Jon was just starting to heal! And Tim knows the heavy bruising might partly be due to EDS, but this is absurd. He shouldn't be bruised at all!

Jon is hunched over, small and shaking and barely conscious. Hiding from the world behind his tangled and greasy hair.

"Shit, Jon, is that all your blood?" Martin squeaks.

It is, clearly. Jon isn't with it enough to even notice them, but the blood on his face and chest is clearly from a bloody nose, and the blood on his wrists and ankles look to be from where the rope is biting into him.

Martin rushes forward. Tim is frozen in place. Frozen in anger and terror, just like he had been all there's years ago. This won't happen again. This can't happen again. He can't survive losing someone else to this... whatever the HELL this is. He can't do it. Not again.

Jon screams the moment Martin touches him. Or tries to. It's then that Tim notices the gag in Jon's mouth.

That does it. THOSE FUCKING BASTARDS THEY COULD HAVE KILLED JON. JON HAS ATHSMA. HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED. HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TOO LATE. JON COULD HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF A STUPID CLOTH IN HIS MOUTH.

While Tim is trying not to scream or punch a wall or spontaneously combust, Martin is speaking softly to Jon, probably trying to get Jon to recognize him as something real and tangible and not a threat. Tim sees Jon timidly nod in response to Something Martin says, and Martin gently removes the gag. Touching Jon as little as possible.

Jon starts sobbing.

Tim can see Martin's heart break.

Jon had been getting so affectionate with them. Leaning into every touch, instead of backing away. Now... he's more skittish than ever. Tim takes a few deep breaths before finally walking over.

"Hey, buddy. Do you think I could untie you?"

Jon stares at him for a long moment.

Tim raises his hands so Jon can see he doesn't have any weapons or anything.

Jon slowly nods, twisting painfully in his seat so he can watch. His movement tightening his bonds. Making Tim's job considerably harder, but... that's fine. Keeping Jon calm is important.

Tim's goal has to stay saving Jon, and if he sees any member of the Circus, he is sure to lose sight of that in favor of revenge, consequences be damned.

They get Jon free, and he immediately curls into a stiff little ball, whimpering. Crying harder when anyone tries to touch him. Tim goes to fetch a blanket from his car. Jon might feel a little less afraid if he is less exposed. Not to mention, Tim would like to keep his car not blood-soaked if he has the option. And he wants to keep Jon warm. That should be his top priority.

It quickly becomes apparently that Jon can't walk. He can barely move. Sore from the bruises and being tied up.

"Jon, would it be alright to pick you up? We need to get out of here." Martin. God bless his gentle voice. God bless Jon's infatuation. Jon bites his lip hard, but nods. He's wrapped tightly in the blanket now, face half hidden in it, flakes of dried blood starting to come loose from his face and decorating the blanket. He flinches away from the hands lifting him, and he bites back a whimper, then a scream. And Tim isn't sure if it's the horror of whatever he's been through, or the pain he's in, or the lingering vertigo, but he is hurting and it breaks Tim's heart.

They make it out. Martin spends the several hour drive in the backseat. Trying to get some water and painkillers and dramamine into Jon. (The last thing Jon needs s to be carsick in this state). Jon just shivers and weeps. Eventually trusting Martin enough to cling to him like he is the only solid thing in the world.

By the time they reach Tim's flat, Jon is calm enough that he lets Tim and Martin guide him to the bath tub. Jon very, very timidly consents to them helping him wash up. (And only after he had been left alone in the tub and almost fainted trying to stand to shower and bringing all the soaps crashing down around him.)

Tim gets to work on his hair, while Martin gently starts working the blood and grime and... is that lotion? off of Jon.

Jon slowly relaxes. Slowly starts to realize that he is really back with Martin and Tim. That they won't touch anywhere that he doesn't want them to. And he goes effectively boneless when the tub is drained, and Tim gives him a last rince with the shower, just as Tim knows Jon appreciates. That gains him a weak smile as Tim narrates what he is doing, which also seems to calm Jon. The only time he panicked during the process is when one of them touched him when his eyes slipped closed. Jon had done his best to keep his eyes open after that. But... by the end he couldn't manage it anymore. Sinking into the touch as Tim had gotten used to him doing.

Tim cooks that night. Jon wrapped in blankets, dozing fitfully on Martin, as Martin carefully keeps his hands to himself and does a bit of writing. Tim honestly can't tell if he's writing poetry or plotting his revenge upon the circus. And Tim feels a twinge in his chest. He has to survive this for them. He can't leave them. He can't leave them alone. It scares him that Jon and Martin could die in...whatever their plan ends up being. It scares him, and he won't let them die. And... and if he can survive to keep protecting them, he has to.

He makes curry. Good and hot and filling. Seasoned to Jon's preferences.

He's cooked side by side with Jon before. It's been a long time, between the baggage between them and Jon's recent illness and injuries, but he can hope Jon will cook with him again.

Jon is slightly revived by then, and feels safe enough to let himself be held, both during the parade of Buzzfeed Unsolved supernatural episodes and beyond that, once the three of them are tucked safely in Tim's bed. Jon in the middle. Martin and Tim shielding him from the world. So what if Tim sleeps with a baseball bat propped up next to his bed? So what if Martin has resumed sleeping with a corkscrew? They have Jon back, and they will not be losing him ever again.

#the magnus archives #tma #whump #jonmartim #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #timothy stoker #cw blood #cw torture #i guess #cw fire #words #fic #my words #my writing #my fic #art #my art

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Text

Title: No Goodbyes

Summary:

"No goodbyes. We'll make it out of here. They had repeated that same promise in the forest only a few days ago over a slow conversation about how life could have been. They had repeated that same promise for years, after strategy meetings, before many missions and while they explored Marley."

Chapter 132 from Levi's POV.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: For Anyarein from AO3.

Don’t hide your fic rec behind those scratchy line things. I’m happy to receive fic ideas and asks (even if I am a little slow with them...)

Thanks for the suggestions for fics <3 ( thanks for indulging my guilty pleasure of high octane angst under the guise of a character study.)

"We've reached the end game."

If Levi hadn’t been looking at her as she said it, if he hadn’t seen the slight movement of her lips and the slight tremble, maybe he would have never heard it. Maybe that half hearted comment would have been drowned out by the sounds of her tearing bandages or the screaming pain that consumed his battered body.

That comment though was enough to send a chill through Levi and down to the bones. The biting cold felt too unfamiliar. It took him a few seconds longer to comprehend what exactly that feeling was.

Frustration. Possibly fear.

He had always been strong. For as long as he could remember, he was always able to fight whatever threats came his way. At that moment when the threats were much larger than he could have ever imagined, when he wished he were at his strongest, he was at his most vulnerable, a cruel twist of fate.

"It's too late to run away to the forest now." He gave Hange a wry smile keeping his tone and his words light, to at least balance out the sullen demeanor of his commander.

His commander. That’s what she had sounded like. With his words, he hoped she would soften her gaze and her tone. It was just the both of them there after all. He knew her inside and out, even before Erwin ever considered her as the next in line to lead the honorable survey corps.

You don't have to pretend with me. He thought to himself, hoping his intent gaze was enough for her to receive the message.

"Yeah, maybe it is..." Hange said a little more lightly as she unwrapped his bandages, a little more roughly than Levi would have liked. "I guess we’re going to have to wait a little longer huh? Before we open that tea shop..."

“Or the herb garden by a cabin.” Levi added. The pain of being so roughly handled took a backseat as Levi felt his throat catch at those words and for a few seconds he was left unable to breathe. The pain in his chest overshadowed whatever protests his body had towards Hange's touch.

From where he lay, he couldn't see Hange's hands but he could see her shoulders shake, and he could see the crown of her head as she avoided his gaze. Levi was sure, at that point her walls had completely broken down.

She was shaking, shaking so hard. Possibly on instinct, he reached out his hand a little farther to grab hers, wherever it was. He gripped it hard as soon as he found it. His own hand burned possibly from having had two of his fingers blown off only a few days ago. There were more important things to do than give his hand the respite it so tenaciously demanded of him.

He had a duty to his commander. No, to his comrade, to his best friend. To his other half.

To his other half.

“I knew you wouldn’t run away,” Levi said.

Hange looked up at him as soon as he had said those words. She furrowed her brow, wrinkled her nose and bit her lip, the result of it all being the faux serious face Levi was all too familiar with.

Hange had always been emotional but since becoming commander, she had started crying less and less. Levi had realized over time that it had never been her own constitution which had made that so. Hange had other ways of holding it in. If she furrowed her brows and crumpled her expression when needed, sometimes the tears never did come. And to the younger members of the survey corps, that unique facial expression had always looked like she was in deep thought on a new diplomatic strategy or battle plan.

Levi knew better though. He had seen that coping mechanism develop over nights alone with her.

“I couldn’t find a way to stop Eren…I can't help but think… Maybe...” She started.

Maybe if Erwin were here? She didn’t need to say it. It was in the way she looked to the side, unable to meet Levi’s gaze as if she knew what she was doing was wrong. She had promised him long before she wouldn’t compare herself to him nor would she compare their current circumstances to that utopian one she had imagined building if Erwin were still there.

Levi quickly hushed her. It was a quiet movement but it was enough to leave his chest burning. He held in a cough, not wanting to aggravate her any further.

“No regrets...” Levi said, as soon as the pain in his chest dissipated enough to allow himself a few words. His throat itched at having to hold in that cough of a while ago. “I told you before.”

“I’m not regretting anything Levi. I promised you I wouldn’t so I won’t.” Hange buried her face in her hands. “But I need to atone.”

Atone. He never believed it to be the right word. Hange had done her best. She sacrificed sleep, meals, rest, mental health days and consequently her own sanity just so things could work out.

In the end, the world had turned out to be much larger and more complex than they could have ever imagined. Hange --- hell, both of them--- the one dubbed humanity’s strongest and possibly the one dubbed humanity’s most intelligent, were left with circumstances that spelled the difference between life and death for millions, circumstances too out of their control.

And you think it’s your fault? He had seen that same flash of guilt show up during the most inopportune times, easily mistaken for a bout of exhaustion on her end and when it was just the two of them, he saw it in the way she would dip her head back up and stare at the empty ceiling, mentioning what Erwin or Moblit would have possibly said or done as nothing more than a passing thought.

But Levi couldn’t tell her off. He couldn’t tell her he hated the word so much that every time she said it, he was forced to bite his lip to keep from saying something he might just regret. Deep within him too, he felt the obligation to atone. He and Hange were the ones after all who had protected and trained Eren.

In the end it had been Eren’s choice to do what he did. Regardless, the nagging thought remained in both of their minds, was there anything they could have done for things to end up different?

No regrets. They had both agreed so many years ago.

“Atone…” The word tasted bitter to Levi but he had to recognize that both of them felt the need too strongly. “Atone after the war… You’ll have time then.” Levi’s hands continued to burn as he lightly pulled at Hange’s hand, an effort to see the face behind it. “We promised right? No goodbyes.”

No Goodbyes

Ever since I joined the survey corps I've had to say nothing but goodbyes.

Levi should have sensed it when Hange had given that speech to Mikasa. Those words dug much deeper than a sermon from a veteran intended to keep Mikasa from killing him or Floch.

Somehow, he only noticed it almost a year later, the first night Hange broke down in front of him after a long meeting with diplomats discussing plans for building ports and adopting technology. During the meeting she was a commander. When everyone had left to retire to their rooms for the night, Hänge had sunk into her chair, so low Levi had feared she would sink so low into the chair she might just disappear.

I can't do this. Moblit would have known how to handle the paperwork. Erwin would have known how to get their confidence. I don't have that charisma.

Did anyone notice I was shaking? Did anyone notice I was just making things up as we went along?

Hange had done great. Yet somehow, her concession of something so unnoticeable scared Levi. That Hange who stood in front of the diplomats explaining her plans for Paradis looked too certain. As her friend and comrade, he started to wonder how much pressure she had put on herself, how much she had to butcher her on psyche to pull off such a facade so convincingly.

Just hold on long enough until the war is over. Until we can fix things with Marley.

No regrets. Levi had given that speech too many times. He was the master at imbibing it and more than anything, at that moment as he held her close and took the force of racking yet muffled sobs, he prayed she felt it too. He prayed that somehow she would imbibe it.

Until we make it out of this. Levi had said. No, we're making it out of this.

It had started with a vow not to regret. As Hange held on to him that night, pulling him closer to herself, as she gripped his shoulders so hard, his own back shook with her racking sobs. Out of what could have been desperation, Levi found himself making another promise with her.

Ever since I joined the survey corps I've had to say nothing but goodbyes. She had repeated to him back then. It had been a year since he had heard that phrase. But ever since they got back from Shiganshina, it had been meeting after meeting, mission after mission, development after development.

She had to break eventually. Of course, it would have been in front of him, the only person who probably felt the gravity of that loss so profoundly, every single loss, from their own squads to their commander. They were the only two people in the squad who were left with little to no time to pick up the pieces, having been launched quickly into seats of both responsibility and power as Paradis rapidly changed.

Levi had his own skeletons and his own emotional baggage to carry. As he watched her breakdown unfold in front of him, his heart could only clench up. He had run out of tears too long ago. His body though, that was starting to scramble for some outlet of emotion, handled it differently.

He clung on to Hange as she cried, letting the shaking motion of her body overshadow his own. No more goodbyes. I’ll be here for a long time. Levi had said.

The next morning, he had regretted those words. No one knows what will happen next. You can trust people all you want but nobody can really predict what will happen next. How many times had that lesson bit him the ass? How many times had he trusted someone only for them to be taken away from him?

It had ended a mutual promise between the two. A promise that had seemed reassuring enough for Hange to have settled in his arms that night. To placate that conflict inside him surrounding the impulsiveness of that decision, Levi only had to remember the way her body had gradually relented to the calmer and slower rhythm of his own breathing.

Levi was never the type to go back on a promise, especially on a promise made to one of the most important people to him, maybe even the most important person to him then, having lost everyone else. He was determined not to break it.

Despite all they had seen, despite their long history as soldiers, Levi and Hange had been too naive. As the situation became more and more dire, Levi would sometimes allow a few seconds a day to scold himself for even entertaining that naivete, particularly in those moments where it was just the both of them stuck in the office, late at night trying to avoid any words that could even allude to goodbyes or regrets

They made that promise in a different world. At that time when they had talked about it, they saw glimmers of hope in the rapidly progressing technology, in their world which was slowly getting larger with every late night meeting, every successful experiment.

At present, Levi was experiencing the world in a body who could barely even move. He was seeing through one eye, the other lost in the explosion. He was on a bed, prone and vulnerable and just outside the ship, he could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling destroy everything in its path and with it, any ambitions for a peaceful compromise.

Hange was the one who had spearheaded the plans for diplomacy, who had clung on most desperately to the hope that the war could all end in peace. She was still healthy and functioning. She was still fit to fight. Yet ironically, her movements had devolved into something mechanical as she cut bandage after bandage and wrapped it around his head. The view of herself she had allowed Levi to see was limited. Even during those few moments where he did get a good look at her, Levi had to risk a bout of dizziness or a headache to bend his head back to see her face. Even under the dim light, he could see they were red rimmed. Red rimmed but lifeless.

We can still make it out of this. No goodbyes. Those were the only words his mind could come up with then that could have maybe brought life back into those hazel eyes. Last time, it had worked. But back then, there weren’t colossal titans trampling the world. Back then, there were still so many other possibilities to consider.

“The bleeding has slowed for most of your injuries. I took out some of the bandages and loosened some of them so it’s more comfortable for you.” Hange said as if she were rattling out of a grocery list.

No. Long ago, Hange probably would have sounded more enthusiastic rattling out a grocery list. The person in front of him didn’t seem like Hange anymore.

“There’s a plane on a nearby port we can take to Eren according to Kiyomi. Hange continued. “We’ll be fuelling the plane and…”

“We?” Levi asked. ‘We’ could have also meant Hange, Levi and everyone else. ‘We’ could have meant Hange and everyone else without him. Somehow, he could tell by the face Hange had given him and the tone of her voice, a tone of defeat and acceptance of their grim reality that she had meant the latter.

“I saw the bruises Levi, you might even be suffering from internal bleeding. Until we can get you to a doctor…. Please stay back here on the ship…” Please don’t fight.

Levi did not have the time to argue. He had spent a second too long thinking of the right words to say as he processed Hange’s incomprehensible actions.

She was ready to die. By the time he had stumbled upon an explanation for her actions, her expressions and gestures that quickly vacillated between empathy and apathy, it had already been too late.

No Goodbyes right? He had wanted to say. Those words never left his mouth though. On their way out, he had felt arms crush him so hard, only a hushed breath was able to make its way out of his mouth.

She wasn’t crushing him. In fact, she had only been holding him a little harder. The force though was more than enough to send a crushing pain coursing through his already battered bones. The pain was stinging on the surface but at the same time piercing deep within him. It coursed through him so quickly and so violently, Levi had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a sound.

For god knows, if she knew how painful it was she might just let go.

No goodbyes. We'll make it out of here. They had repeated that same promise in the forest only a few days ago over a slow conversation about how life could have been. They had repeated that same promise for years, after strategy meetings, before many missions and while they explored Marley.

What if diplomacy did work? What if the threats of rumbling where enough to make Marley reconsider the treatment of Eldians? What if this could all end without any bloodshed?

What if maybe there was still some sliver of hope to cling to? No goodbyes. Levi only repeated that same line to himself again and again. Although she had let go for a bit, giving enough space for Levi to breathe, the knot in his throat that extended all the way down to his stomach had taken over suffocating him.

No goodbyes right? He started to scream those words in his head, still unable to say them aloud. That shouldn’t have mattered though. She usually knew what he was thinking. If he thought it loudly enough, it should reach her like it always did.

He screamed in his mind, clinging to hope that the message would reach her. His body knew otherwise. All he could do was wait and listen for what Hange had to say next.

Thank you. Hange’s last words to him weren’t words of farewell. Just like they had promised each other long ago. No goodbyes.

Hange left him alone in the plain room with only one dim light on. Levi was left with nothing much to do but stare at his plain surroundings, the only stimuli worth considering being the final words she had said to him.

Thank you for always being there. Thank you for staying with me after meetings. Thank you for letting me bounce ideas with you. Thank you for the late night conversations.

Thank you. Hange was not one for phatic expressions. At least when she was with him. Had she ever said thank you? She was his own commander, there was no need to. When they were alone, there were too many other things to discuss. Padding their heart to heart conversations with pleasantries had never seemed necessary.

She had kept her promise but as Levi lay in bed and stared at the blank ceiling, recalling the exchange of only a few minutes ago, he couldn’t help but think, he would have preferred a goodbye.

No Goodbyes

Levi valued promises. He kept the promise he had made to Hange close to his heart and he felt all the more determined to make sure she kept it too.

Maybe that was what had pushed him to stand up even as his joints ached, his bones screamed and his head spun. That determination inside him only pulled him out of the bed more violently, drilling into him the possibility that maybe not doing anything could be more painful.

And it worked. When Levi was in bed, his body felt this impulse to shake his broken bones awake, to punish them for wanting to pull him back from the war. Hange couldn’t keep that promise alone, she needed his help. Omission seemed like the more evil option.

That was how Levi had found himself, walking painfully towards the voices in the other room. That was how he had found himself refusing Armin’s help, forcing his body through a crash course on relearning how to walk and sooner than later, to fight.

Fuck it. Even his body couldn’t relearn to walk and fight so quickly, he’d force it too. He had more than enough memories and experience fighting, it would be a matter of discipline more than anything else.

That was what had him testing his ODM gear with the fingers he had left. Two fingers is all I need.

Hange had kept quiet since then, not bringing up the conversation of a while ago. He could see in the glances that she snuck him while she faced the alliance as a commander that she wished he were elsewhere.

That’s a first. Levi had to note. Before, she would seek comfort in the many moments they did exchange glances. Then, she looked uncomfortable.

It could have been his injuries. It could have also been those last words she said.

She kept her promise. Yet she was starting to avoid his gaze as she reminisced of old friends, in ways that only reminded Levi of another loss they had felt long ago.

With the rumbling nearing, with the appearance of Floch and with the breaking of the fuel tank, they could not allow themselves a few more minutes to ponder that promise in silence.

Levi wasn’t there when Hange had made that decision. By the time, he was near enough to make eye contact, to get a near enough look of her expression a mixture of fear, guilt and acceptance. It was too late.

Just let me go. Will you?

We promised. No goodbyes. No regrets. Levi looked towards the ground as he thought about it. He had tried to send her that silent reminder too many times that day already. Back then, he had hoped it would reach her.

As he heard the rumbling only get nearer, he started to realize there were things much larger and more permanent than superficial and temporal promises.

A part of him could only interpret the promise they made as having been broken. For a while he wanted to say goodbye out of spite.

Levi was never the type of person to break a promise though.

“Dedicate your heart.”

I don’t regret anything but I feel like I still need to atone for it. Hange had said it so many times before during the many times they had briefly mentioned it and the few times they had analyzed it. Hange had always planned on atoning somehow, for all that chaos she had believed herself to have been to unfit to stop.

As if it wasn’t anybody else’s mistakes and selfishness that had brought upon that chain of events.

Levi allowed himself to gradually shift his thoughts elsewhere as he boarded the plane. HIs broken bones were still screaming for attention. His bruises were still sending jolts up his spine with every movement. His fingers were throbbing at the weight of the ODM gear.

Any pain, any sensation and any experience could have been more palatable, could have been more bearable than what he had felt as he pressed his hand into her heart. He couldn’t think about her anymore or he risked collapsing right there.

There was one final passing thought Levi allowed himself though as he had settled onto his seat in the plane. It was the last thought about Hange he would allow himself before he turned off all his emotions, shifting his thoughts to the larger problem at hand.

You can’t ever atone without feeling regret. Levi couldn’t help but think, despite the bond they shared that had made feelings between them flow so smoothly in ways words never did, there may have been some fatal misunderstanding between them about what those two promises meant.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #fanfic

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so-langdon · 5 years ago

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Never Enough - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Michael relaxes Y/N in the shower after a long week.

Warnings: Fluff, sensual situations, teasing, fingering, oral (female receiving), soft! dom! Michael

A/N: This takes place in the same AHS: Apocalypse universe, just before the bombs, but with Michael having the Outpost! Michael physical appearance.

*ALSO hi wow it’s been like a decade since I’ve posted any writings... I don’t know how popular Michael Langdon fan fics are now and if anyone will even read this??? But posting it anyway bc I’m still obsessed and in love with Michael fucking Langdon 🙃

Hope you’re all doing well and staying safe and healthy! 💙💕

Tagged!: @hecohansen31 @greenmanalishi @michaelsapostle @blakewaterxx @saltyshaggymeme @rocketgirl2410 @xavierplympton

(Also not sure if any of you wanted to still be tagged in my writings, but just in case.. Let me know otherwise if you want to be removed!)

The warmth of water cascades over Y/N, soothing her body, relaxing her muscles and releasing any tension and stress the busy day has given her. She slides her hands over and through her hair, leaning her head back, allowing the warmth of the steam and water to unwind her mind along with her body.

It’d been a long and tiring week, causing Y/N to feel overwhelmed and overworked with all the tasks and deadlines that had to be met at her job. Alongside that, Michael Langdon, her partner, had been busy with his own work, seeming to be living at the Kineros Robotics company where he had been planning a number of things.

The two were so busy with their own jobs, their schedules never lining up, they hadn’t been able to spend any real time together recently as it’d been at least a week since they were able to sit down and actually be with one another.

They’d each be at work all day, then come home and go to bed, hardly having any time to de-stress and talk. Especially since Y/N was always going to bed by the time Michael was getting home, him following to sleep then too. But being adults, with their work needing to get done, each understood and knew they’d get time together one way or another eventually.

However, Michael could sense and feel the stress and tension in Y/N, whether he was with her or not. The two had this connection, a strong bond formed over the love they have for one another, and with Michael’s abilities, Michael could always tell when Y/N was feeling too stressed out, even when she tried to keep a smile on her face and not burden Michael.

Knowing that Y/N had been particularly overly tired and stressed this week, Michael made sure to leave Kineros early that day so he could spend time with her and give her a relaxing evening. He had been missing her a little too much anyway.

Michael walks into their home, carrying a few bags that contain Y/N’s and his favorite take out, wanting to give them a good dinner that evening and so Y/N didn’t have to worry about cooking, along with a few other items to make the rest of the night fun and relaxing too.

Y/N doesn’t hear Michael coming home early of course as she’s in the shower washing away the day down the drain. She doesn’t hear the bathroom door open and close either, much less take notice of Michael’s appearance on the other side of the shower glass door.

Michael smiles to himself, finding her as alluring as ever and proceeds to undress, discarding his clothes to the floor and opening the shower door. Y/N hears and notices him by that point, but doesn’t react, only wiping her face clear of water.

She feels Michael’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, causing her to smile. She places her hands over his wrists on her, turning her head back to him.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” she says as she looks at him, her tone sweet and happy, the warmth of Michael around her causing her a tranquility already more than the warm shower was.

Michael grins, resting his chin on her shoulder. He presses his lips to her neck, mumbling against her, “Hi baby.”

“Hi,” she smiles more. “What are you doing home already,” she asks curiously.

“Decided to take off early,” Michael starts. “We’ve hardly had any time together this week and I’ve missed you too much, so I decided to come home and spend time with you.”

“Really,” Y/N raises her eyes as she turns around to face Michael fully, staying in his hold as his arms stay around her waist. “I’m sure Jeff and Mutt had a field day with that -- you leaving early just to come home to a girl,” she teases.

“They know better than to make any idiotic remarks,” Michael states, knowing how immature and annoying the two morons at his work could be. “But doesn’t matter. I’m the boss, what are they going to do? They worship me anyway.”

“Maybe they won’t do anything,” she begins, “but your girlfriend may make fun of you for being so whipped,” Y/N jokes, smiling as if she’ll laugh.

Michael lets out a soft chuckle, leaning in and pressing his lips against her inner neck, humming against her as he kisses against her. “So I’m whipped because I wanted to come home and spoil my favorite person?”

“Spoil,” Y/N repeats, looking at him questioningly as Michael lifts his head and looks at her with an amused expression.

“Yes, of course,” he speaks fluidly. “I left early and picked up our favorite food, along with some other things, and figured we could have a relaxing evening together.” He raises a hand from around her waist to her face, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin gently. “We’ve both been so busy this week, and I know you’ve been more so overworked and stressed. I want to help you unwind,” he leans in, “help you relax,” he kisses her sweetly, making her heart flutter. “And take care of you,” he mumbles against her lips before pulling back with the same amused look, mixed in with an adoring expression.

Y/N wraps her arms around his neck as she smiles shyly at him, flushing a bit from his words. “And what about you?” She asks.

Michael grins, dropping his hand from her cheek to stepping her back to press against the side of the shower wall, the water hitting the both of their sides. A slight shiver runs through Y/N from the coldness of the wall behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist after, “I want this evening to be about you. I’ll be fine.”

“I think we can make this evening about both of us just as easily,” Y/N states.

“You don’t understand that me taking care of you takes care of me.” He leans his lips into the crook of her neck once more, kissing against her. “So let me start this evening out right and take care of you properly,” he whispers gently along her skin.

“What do you mean,” Y/N asks, oblivious to Michael’s ulterior motives.

Michael smirks a bit and drops one hand from around her as he brushes the back of his fingers down along the side of her body. “What do you think,” he asks, almost taunting her as his hand slows down, trailing his fingers from the side of her hip, to the front of her and lower.

Y/N bites her lip as Michael’s hand movements gets slower, teasing her by hovering his hand over just where she would like him. At an aching pace, Michael reaches down to her heat, the anticipation building quickly due to the built up tension from all week, and he cups her, his palm pressing against her, causing her breath to hitch.

He begins with his fingers rubbing down her slit, allowing the excitement to grow inside of Y/N. The wavering of Y/N’s breathing already causes him to grin almost cockily, feeling a pride from always being able to turn Y/N on so easily.

Michael’s other arm that’s wrapped around Y/N brings her closer to him, making Y/N press her lips together as she looks at him, not bothering to hide his obvious smirk now. Y/N’s hands grasp his shoulders, her eyes fluttering closed as she feels the pads of Michael’s fingers smoothly brush through her folds and to her clit, rubbing circles against her.

Y/N’s heart begins to beat faster bit by bit as her breathing gradually becomes more shallow. Michael’s fingers rub from her clit and down her slit, towards her entrance, feeling the wetness of her beginning to grow.

“You’re already so wet, baby,” Michael speaks softly, a huskiness showcasing in his tone too as he presses his lips against her forehead.

“Maybe it’s the water,” Y/N breathes out, trying to cover up the fact of how aroused she’s getting so quickly.

“Sure, darling,” Michael smiles. “Whatever you say.”

He gathers her wetness against his fingers as he teases against her heat, spreading it up to her clit and rubbing again, earning a quiet moan from her. He focuses on his consistent pace as he rubs her, knowing just how to work her up.

Michael’s movements are slow and almost too soft, knowing Y/N is desperate for more, but wants Y/N to savor each touch and sensation he gives her so she can enjoy the full pleasure and gradual build.

“Michael, please,” Y/N breathes out as if on cue, becoming needier, biting her lip again. She was used to Michael teasing her, but it accompanied a more rough setting. This was more focused and controlled, almost worse due to the ache of the slow and gentle build, making her want more more quickly.

“What? You don’t want it over too fast, do you?” He speaks, his hands movements matching the pace with his slow and hushed but teasing tone. “You want to take it all and feel the complete pleasure, right,” Michael speaks enticingly, leaning his head into the crook of her neck, kissing against her.

“Don’t tease me,” Y/N sighs out, feeling as the pads of Michael’s fingers continue at the same pace as he rubs against her clit.

“Trust me, darling, I’m only loving you,” Michael mumbles, lips brushing against her ear and kissing her, causing a shiver to run through Y/N.

Another smirk grows across Michael’s face, lips kissing against her ear and along her neck consistently as his fingers continue working along her.

Michael circles against her clit a few more times before bringing his fingers to her entrance, feeling how she’s pulsing lightly against him. He teases her more, rubbing against her softly, causing Y/N to whine and rest her forehead against Michael’s shoulder.

He pushes a finger inside of her, his own cock twitching but doing his best to control himself as he wants to only focus on her. He pumps his finger a few times, curling, a soft whimper leaving Y/N’s mouth.

Michael’s lips press against Y/N’s neck again, giving a soft suck and small nip following, kissing against her tender skin after. Y/N’s hands tighten on his shoulders, feeling how her body is getting more hot, from Michael’s touches, the steam of the shower, the pleasure spreading through her.

Y/N moans lightly when feeling Michael’s finger curl again inside her as his thumb rubs over her clit too, adding to the pleasured sensation. Still greedy for more, unable to help it when she breathes out a heavy, “More Michael, please.”

Since Michael understands Y/N’s tension and had planned for a relaxing evening for her, he listens to her instead of continuing to tease and drawing out her yearning like he normally would when they fool around and would punish her for her needy behavior. He did, after all, start it anyway.

Michael lifts his head from her neck and removes his hands from her. Y/N looks up at him with a small pout, Michael grinning as he leans in and kisses her slowly, then lowering his head as he kisses against her collarbones, down to her cleavage.

Looking up at her as he lowers himself to the floor and onto a knee, still kneeling tall enough that the water from the shower isn’t drenching his face, he grabs Y/N and pulls her forward, wrapping an arm around her lower body, his other hand grabbing her knee and lifting her leg over his shoulder. One of Y/N’s hands rests on the top of Michael’s shoulder, the other placing back against the wall of the shower.

Michael’s eyes stay focused on Y/N’s as he leans his head forward and licks a slow stripe through her folds and to her clit, closing his eyes and letting out a low groan from her taste. Y/N lets out a shallow breath, her stomach contracting already, merely from the sight of Michael alone.

He circles his tongue around her clit, enclosing his lips after and sucking slowly. Y/N’s eyes close again, her hand on Michael’s shoulder grasping tighter. Michael pulls Y/N closer, holding her to him as his plump lips and tongue work at her bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” Y/N moans out, her mouth dropping open, her chest rising and falling at a faster level.

Michael unwraps his arm from around Y/N and brings his hand up to between him and her. He lets his finger rub against her entrance again as he sucks on her clit still. He pushes his finger inside her like before, adding a second right after and pumping his fingers inside of her at a slow pace.

He gradually pumps his fingers faster, his other hand coming to her clit and pulling back her hood to lick his tongue fervently against her more without anything in between for her to feel the full sensitivity.

Y/N jerks feeling all the sensations together, her lower body moving forward as she grinds against Michael’s tongue. He pumps his fingers, curling them as Michael opens his eyes and looks up at Y/N, his thumb that holds her hood back, moving lower to rub over the sensitive nub, and adding his tongue as he licks around and over it too at the same time for more pleasure.

Y/N begins to thrust her lower body forward more, practically riding Michael’s face as she feels the contract of pleasure inside her body beginning to grow, deeper and deeper. Her body starts to tremble, her toes curling as the build gets bigger.

Michael sucks on her clit harshly as he thrusts his fingers inside of her faster, curling every other second, knowing how close she is and feeling desperate to taste more of her.

Y/N’s hand moves to the upper back of Michael’s head, grasping at the roots of his long locks as the pressure inside her tightens more, feeling how close to the edge she is.

Michael keeps at a consistent pace with his lips and tongue on her clit, his fingers pumping inside her, humming against her from enjoying the taste of her, the way her body grinds against his face, her body jerking lightly.

The coil snaps finally, the release of undeniable complete pleasure flooding through Y/N’s body, the tension from the week disappearing in waves as a relaxation and gratification overcomes her.

Michael is sure to suck and lick up every bit of her before standing up, including sucking on his fingers to taste as much of her as he can. Y/N’s chest is rising up and down heavily as she catches her breath and comes down from her orgasm, looking at Michael with a lazily content expression.

“Feel better,” Michel asks rhetorically, smirking and grabbing her waist as he holds her to him. “I know this week has been overwhelming, but hopefully you’re feeling more relaxed now.”

“Getting to spend time with you helps me relax,” Y/N smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck as Michael’s arms around her waist hold tighter. “But, that was quite the treat, too,” she bites on her lip, smiling again after.

“Was quite the treat for me, as well,” Michael leans in, grinning, his nose lightly brushing against Y/N’s, making her smile more, and he kisses her. “Now, let’s get out so we can enjoy the rest of our evening together.”

“But what about you? You haven’t given me the chance to relax you yet,” Y/N says, unwrapping her arms from around Michael’s neck to resting on the front of his collarbones, slowly dropping her hands down his fit chest.

“I told you, taking care of you takes care of me. Besides, I’m not done with you yet,” Michael informs, his words holding a husky and sensual tone.

“Oh? What else do you have planned?” Y/N asks curiously, her eyes filling with a curious excitement.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Michael leans in slowly, letting his lips brush over Y/N/s teasingly, making her lean up to close the space between them, wanting to kiss him. But Michael leans back more, smirking as he senses the growing want in her again for him.

He kisses her a second later, knowing he can’t hold his own self back from kissing her for too long. He grasps her cheek, knowing no matter the amount of time they have together, it will never be enough with her.

Hope you enjoyed!! All feedback is appreciated <3

#Michael Langdon #AHS #American Horror Story #Michael Langdon imagine #Michael Langdon story #Michael Langdon writing #Michael Langdon fan fic #Michael Langdon fanfic #Michael Langdon one shot #Michael Langdon oneshot #Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon x fem! reader #Michael Langdon x fem reader #Duncan Shepherd #Duncan Shepherd imagine #xavier plympton #xavier plympton writing #xavier plympton imagine #cody fern

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Take it Slow - Part Seventy-Eight

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“I don’t care what time it is when you land, call me and let know when you get to your mum’s.”

“I will.”

“You’re sleepin’ there, and then you’re goin’ home tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. And then you’ll FaceTime me so I can see you and Buster?”

“Mhm.”

You were being short because you were trying not to cry. Harry’s eyes were already glossy. You had an amazing week in London with him. You got to spend some more time with Anne. You got to see Mitch and Sarah again. You did a few touristy things. He drove you out to the countryside and you made love in a field. It was all so wonderful. You really didn’t want to leave.

“I wish I could walk you all the way to the gate.”

“Me too.”

You hug for a long time and look up at him.

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you too. See you in a week.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah, see you in a week.”

You kiss for a while until a police officer blows his whistle. You jump back and grab the handle of your luggage.

“Bye baby.” He says. You wave and try to smile.

Harry sighs and gets into the car. He bursts into years.

“Please, god, it was bad enough watching you two say goodbye, please don’t tell me you’re goin’ t’cry the entire ride back to your flat.”

“Shut up Gem!” He wipes his eyes.

“It’s a week, Harry! Calm down.”

“I can barely fuckin’ sleep without her, a week is a long time.”

“Do you know how co-dependent that sounds?”

“We’re not co-dependent.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m allowed to miss her. We had a really nice week.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” She laughs. “Let’s go get that ring.”

Harry and Gemma pull up to the jewelry store where he had ordered your engagement ring…that you still knew nothing about. They go inside and speak to one of the salespeople. A man comes back with the ring a little blue velvet box.

“Blue’s her favorite color.” Harry says to Gemma and she nods.

“Open it up, I’m dyin’ over here.”

Harry slowly opens it and Gemma gasps. It was perfect, and he knew you were going to love it.

“Oh my god, Harry. It’s beautiful, well done.”

It was a thick, white-gold band with a decent size square diamond in the middle. There were two smaller diamonds on either side of the larger one. Harry picks it up to look at the engraving.

“What’s it say?”

“My everything.” He squints at, then smiles at his sister who has tears in her eyes.

“Mum is gonna flip when she sees this.”

“I’ve shown her a picture.”

“I know, but to see it in person…she’s gonna cry for sure.”

Harry puts the ring back in the box and sticks it in his pocket. The two go back to the car and drive to his flat.

“So, when are yeh askin’ her? That thing is gonna burn a whole in your pocket until you do.”

“I was thinkin’ end of September.”

“Harry.” She groans. “Why wait any longer. This whole waiting a year thing is stupid.”

“Our first date was at the beginning of September, so technically I’m not waitin’ til it’s been a year. I didn’t become her boyfriend until October.”

“What if she finds it? Where could hide it? She does all your laundry.”

“I’m gonna leave it locked in my desk at work.”

“Alright, I suppose that’s a good plan. What else do yeh have planned?”

“I’m not tellin’.”

“What? Why not? S’not like I’m gonna tell her.”

“People keep givin’ me suggestions, but I’ve finally figured it out. And I’d like to keep it to myself for as long as I can.”

“You won’t even give me a hint?”

“Nope.”

“You really suck.”

He stings his tongue out at her and she sticks out hers back at him.

“In all seriousness, I’m really happy for you. Mum and I love her, and you two are a great match. I’ve truly never seen yeh so happy, Harry.”

“I’ve never been this happy. I’m glad you and mum love her, it means a lot.” Harry tears up again.

“Oh, Jesus, what now?”

“I just thought of how she might look when she’s walkin’ down the aisle.” Harry sniffles and his voice cracks. “She’ll make a beautiful bride.”

“Buster!” You exclaim as you burst through your mom’s door. He comes running towards you and you practically sob. “Mumma missed you so much! Come on let’s call daddy.” You take him into the spare bedroom and get settled. “This’ll be a treat for you to sleep with me tonight, huh?”

You take your phone out and FaceTime Harry. You felt bad because it would be around 4AM there, but he told you to call, so here you were.

“Hello?” He groans. It was dark in his room.

“Turn your light on baby, so we can see you.” You hear him shift and turn the side table light on. “Look, Buster, it’s daddy!” He yips and it makes Harry laugh.

“Hey buddy! Daddy misses you. Daddy misses mummy too.” He winks.

“Ew…don’t do that.” You laugh.

“How was your flight, angel?”

“It was good, I slept for most of it, thank god. Happy to be here with out little boy now.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he’s with his mummy.” You look at each other for a moment.

“Well, you’re one sleep down.”

“Mhm, six more to go.”

“What do you have planned for the rest of the week?”

“More family stuff, hangin’ with friends. Gonna take some pictures for people.”

“You’re working?”

“Only a little, don’t worry.”

“I just want you to enjoy your time away.”

“I will, honey.”

“Okay.” You yawn. “Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep. I just wanted to call like you said.”

“Thank you.” He smiles. “I love you, sweet dreams.”

“Love you too.” You blow him a kiss and hang up. “Okay, Buster, time for bed.”

The next morning you have breakfast with your mom and tell her all about your trip. You get Buster in the car and head home. You missed your apartment. You go grocery shopping and meal prep what you’ll need for the rest of the week.

Just as you’re settling on the sofa with some pizza, your phone goes off.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!”

“What’s up, Seth?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking of you and thought I’d call.”

“You were thinking of me?” Your heart drops into your stomach.

“Yeah…well…not to seem like a creep, but I saw you post your pictures from your trip on Facebook, and saw that you were home. Weather looked great!

“Yeah, it was an amazing trip. Um…why were you thinking of me?”

“You and I were friends once, really good friends. I feel bad that we lost touch after we graduated. I’ve loved seeing you and the girls this summer…it would be nice to hang out without a party and booze though, don’t you think?”

It was true, Seth was one of your best guy friends. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him from time to time. But you’ve rarely thought of another man while being with Harry.

“I suppose that would be nice.”

“Do you think we could meet up for coffee or something sometime?”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah…just as friends, obviously. I’m not trying to cause any issues with your boyfriend.”

“Um…not that I need his permission, but I’d have to ask how he’d feel about that.”

“Really, why? He knows we’re friends.”

“But he also knows that we’ve been more than friends…”

“He does?!”

“Yeah, it sort of came up after your Memorial Day party…”

“He just seemed so chill on the fourth, I didn’t think he knew.”

“He was on his best behavior that day. I just don’t know if he’d appreciate it…but I’ll ask.”

“I really don’t wan to cause any problems.”

“That’s sweet of you to say. I think coffee would be fine, I just don’t want to say yes until I talk to him.”

“Okay, that’s fair. Just text me and let me know.”

“Sounds good…thanks for calling.”

“Sure.”

You hang up and take a deep breath.

“I’m way too tired and drunk to walk you across campus.” Seth says, turning the TV off. “Wanna just crash in my room?”

“Yeah, that could work.” You smile as he helps you up off the floor. You tried not to sound too eager.

You follow him upstairs to his room, a room you had been in many times before, but had never slept in it. He closes the door behind you. Seth had the best room in the house because it had a bathroom attached to it.

“Want something to change into?”

“Sure!”

“Here.”

He tosses you a clean pair of plaid boxers and a t-shirt. You go into his bathroom to change. When you come back out your eyes trail up and down his body. He turns around and smiles.

“You don’t mind if I don’t wear a shirt do you?”

“Nope, your room, your rules.” He laughs and gets on the bed. You join him, not feeling nervous at all. You and Seth had cuddled before, it wasn’t weird that you were with him on his bed. “I’ll turn the TV on for a bit.”

“Thanks”

He throws an arm around you as you settle in. Eventually you both fall asleep. He woke up in the middle of the night to the TV and turns it off. You were fast asleep. He smiles and wraps himself around you, holding you close. Seth adored you, not that he would ever say that out loud.

When the sunlight of the room hit your face, you woke up. You turned over and saw Seth on his side facing you, scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and smiles.

“Hey.” He says.

“Hi.”

“Sleep alright?”

“Mhm. Comfy bed.”

He puts his phone on his night table and moves a little closer to you. He brushes some hair out of your face.

“You’re…really pretty.” Your cheeks flush. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Don’t think so, but thanks.” You smile. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

“I stayed late here on purpose last night so you’d invite me upstairs.”

“Can I tell you secret?” You nod. “I know.”

“What?” You giggle. “How?”

“I’ve seen you do it before, very clever.”

“Seth, I have a huge crush on you, and I have for a while.”

“I have a crush on you too.” His hand moves to rub your arm. “But Sarah…”

“Is with Ben, and said it was okay.”

“Really, you’ve spoken with her?”

“We talk about everything.”

“So what you’re saying is if I kissed you right now it would be alright?”

“More than alright.” You lick your lips and move closer so your noses were touching.

He cups your cheek and leans in. Your lips brush and he kisses you. You both smile against each other giggle. You roll onto your back and he moves tot hover over you. He kisses you again, neither of you really caring about the morning breath, and his tongue swipes over your bottom lip. You wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to you, his morning wood pressing into you. You moan against him.

“I want you.” You whisper.

You were insanely attracted to Seth. From his nail polish, to his tattoos, to his piercings.He had so many things that just turned you on. Not to mention that he was just straight up handsome and sweet.

“I want you, too.” He smiles. “So bad.”

He kisses down your neck and tugs at the hem of the shirt he let you borrow. He lifts it up over your head and grins when he sees your nipple piercings.

“I remember when you guys got these.” He tweaks them a little and you groan. “Nice of you to finally show me.”

Just as he wraps his lips around one of them his door flies open, and you cling to him to cover yourself.

“Max! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Sorry! I needed my…Y/N?!”

“Hey.” You say. “Could you, uh, leave?”

“Sorry!”

He leaves quickly and you both start laughing.

“That door lock?”

“Yeah.”

“Go lock it.”

He gets up and locks the door and practically jumps back on the bed.

“You sure this how you want it to go down?” He asks as he kisses down your chest, dipping his hand inside the boxers he let you borrow.

“Yes, want you so bad. Please, fuck me.”

Seth tugs down his own boxers and your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“Holy shit.” You say under your breath, but he hears you and smirks.

He gets your boxers off and tosses them to the floor. You spread your legs apart for him and he bites his lip. You reach for him and line him up with your center.

“Please, we can do all the fun foreplay stuff another time. I want you, this, right now.”

“Okay, let me just, uh, grab a condom, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

He reaches into his bedside table and retrieves the foil packet.

“Can I put it on you?”

“Yeah.” He smiles and hands it to you. “Just when I didn’t think you could get any cooler.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and roll the condom on his long, thick length.

He presses his tip against you and slowly starts to push in. A tear rolls down your cheek as he stretches you out.

“Alright?”

“Yeah, just, you’re really big.” You both giggle. “I just need a second to adjust.”

He leans in to kiss you and nips at your jaw to your ear.

“Take your time.” He whispers. “I’ve got all day.”

“Shit.” You say to yourself. “Daddy��s not gonna be happy, Buster. But what can I do? Coffee can’t hurt right?” He yips at you. You call Harry and he answers on the second ring.

“Hey, lovie.” You giggle at the term.

“Hi dolly.”

“What’s up?” He was in such a good mood, you didn’t want to sour it.

“Um, well, I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“Seth called me today…”

“Go on.”

“He wants to get coffee with me sometime soon, but…I told him I had to ask you first before I said yes or no.”

“That makes me sound a little psycho, doesn’t it?”

“He even said he didn’t want to cause trouble, I just…I…didn’t want to say yes or no before I spoke with you.”

“Do you want to have coffee with him? I mean, what’s the point?”

“Well, we used to be really good friends, and you know how it is after you graduate, you can’t stay in touch with everyone. I’d like to catch up with him one on one, without any alcohol…”

“Can you go to a place that’s dog friendly?”

“Sure! Plenty of places have outdoor seating right now.”

“Will you call me right after?”

“I don’t even know if it’s happening this week, but if it does, then yes.”

“I’m fine with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…I really appreciate you calling and asking first. It means a lot to me.”

“I just didn’t want to keep something from you.”

“Thanks, babe.”

You and Harry talk more about how his day is going before you hang up to text Seth.

“You’re havin’ coffee after work with your ex, and Harry’s okay with it?” Niall asks you the next day at work.

“First of all, he’s not my ex, and second of all, yes, Harry’s fine with it.”

“He’s an ex lover, Y/N.”

“Don’t you have to be in love for someone to be your lover? I mean Harry’s my lover if anything. Seth…I was never in love with.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“Buster’s coming with me, so I’ll have a chaperone. I’m going to be in my work clothes, so it’s not like I look sexy.” Niall crosses his arms and looks at you. “How is this sexy?! My chest is covered and this comes to my knees.”

“You’re a cute girl wearin’ a tight dress. It’s sexy.” You swat an arm at him.

“It’s just coffee.”

“I think you’re playin’ with fire.”

“I haven’t thought about him like that in years. If I really wanted him I would’ve been his girlfriend.”

“But you’re both grown now. You could-“

“Niall, please. I called my boyfriend and essentially asked his permission to see an old friend. It’s no big deal. It’s just coffee. It’s not like we’re having dinner and drinks.”

“Will you please text me when you get home?”

“Sure.”

You laid there with a huge smile on your face after you were done. It was the best sex you ever had. You were cuddled up with him. He was smiling too.

“That was fun.” He says. “You’re fun.”

“I’ve always been fun.”

“But that was like extra fun.” He kisses the top of your head. “What happens next?”

“You become my number one booty call, and you drop everything for me every time I wanna hook up.”

“You know what? That seams really fair.” You both laugh.

“In all seriousness, what do you want to have happen next?”

“I don’t know, I know I definitely wanna fuck you again.”

“Mm, me too.”

“I also know I don’t really want a girlfriend right now…is that mean to say?”

“No, it’s not mean.” You sigh. “In all honesty I don’t want a boyfriend. I really like being friends with you, I’m just really attracted to you.”

“So what we’re talking about his friends with benefits.”

“I guess so. Are you good with that?”

“I’m very good with that.”

“Good.”

You meet Seth outside a local coffee shop with Buster at your side after work. You two hug lightly, and go inside to order your drinks. You decide to split a scone, and find a table outside to sit at.

“You look so…professional.” He laughs.

“So do you! A button up and a tie? I’m shocked.”

“Hey, tablets don’t sell themselves.”

“Let me ask you something. Do your clients get thrown off at all when they see the lip piercing?” You giggle.

“Actually, it works in my favor quite a bit. It really shows that I’m comfortable with myself. As do the knuckle tattoos. Turns out my parents were wrong.” He laughs. “It also helps that I’m incredibly charming.”

“And a little narcissistic.” You sip on your iced decaf and break off a piece of scone to pop into your mouth.

“So, how long have you been with Harry, spill all the tea.”

“I gave you plenty to sip on at Memorial Day.”

“You showed me a picture of him and that was about it. Then you bring him to the fourth, and just happens to share a shocking resemblance to me.” He smirks and your jaw drops as you scoff.

“He looks nothing like you! First of all, his skin is tan, his eyes are green not hazel, big fucking difference-“

“His nails are painted, he has a ton of tattoos-“

“His tongue’s not pierced.” You cross your arms and smirk. “He doesn’t need the extra help.”

“Really, we’re just diving right into that, huh? I’ll have you know I took that out years ago.” He sticks his tongue out at you. “And as I recall you didn’t have much to say about it back then. Well you did, but they were mostly you moaning my name so…” He smiles at you and you shake your head.

“Is this why you wanted to get coffee with me? To go down memory lane?”

“No.” He scoffs. “I genuinely miss my friend.”

“And you just realized this because?”

“What do you mean?”

“Seth…”

“Okay, okay. You guys come to my parties every year, and I’ve either been dating someone or you have…”

“And I’m still dating someone.”

“That’s not what I meant. I think it’s stupid to not be friends with someone just because they have a significant other. I miss you, I’ve missed you for a long time.”

“Just me?”

“No, Rachel and Sarah too…but you and I were always closer and you know it.”

“That’s true.”

“Do you miss me?”

“In all honesty…I feel like I blocked you out of my mind. I’ve gone through a lot since graduation Seth.” He nods. “I know that sounds harsh.”

“It’s okay.” He takes a sip of his drink. “So, how did you and Harry meet?” He smiles.

“My friend Niall…Sarah’s now boyfriend, set us up.”

“Love at first sight?”

“Essentially…I mean we had one date one weekend and the next weekend we had like three more dates. He swept me off my feet.” Seth takes a bite of the scone. “He really loves me.”

“I could tell, just from the way he was looking at you. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks.” You smile. “No girls trying to scoop you up?”

“I’m in between girls at the moment…I, uh, sometimes date men.” He looks down and blushes. You grab his hand and squeeze it. He looks back up at you. “I’m bi.”

“Oh, Seth. Thank you for telling me. When did you realize?”

“After we graduated. I think I’ve always sort of known, but just never put two and two together. There was this guy I talked to at a bar one night, and one things led to another…”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. So I’ve dated some women, and some men. I can’t really figure out what I want.”

“Well, you’re only twenty-four…you have a lot of time. Do your parents know?”

“Yeah, my whole family does. There was a guy I dated for a while so I eventually brought him home to meet them. They were cool with it. My parents are from Vermont, they’re traditional but love the gays.” You burst out laughing and so does he. “I’m just sort fluid, you know? I like who I like, and I’ve just learned to go with the flow.”

“That’s really cool, Seth. I’m happy you’ve discovered these things about yourself. Not be pushy, but I do know a very nice young man that works for Harry who happens to be single and a confirmed gay.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? You setting me up?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “It’s not like we have feelings for each other…right?”

“I mean to be honest if you were single I’d totally jump your bones, but I don’t think that feeling will ever go away.” He chuckles. “We had some pretty hot sex back in the day. But, no, there’s no feelings.”

“I forgot how blunt you can be, Jesus.” You take a sip of your drink. “Harry owns his own studio, you could come by some time and I can introduce you to Isaac.”

“Isaac, aw, that’s a cute name.”

“I have a picture from him, do you wanna see?”

“Sure, why not?”

You pull up a picture of Isaac on your phone from the studio opening and show Seth. His eyes grow wide.

“Oh wow…he’s adorable.”

“So adorable! And I know he thinks Harry’s cute, so he’d think you’re cute too.”

“Oh, so this is you admitting that we’re the same person?”

“You have very similar qualities, but you are not the same.”

“Relax, I’m just teasing. You know what? Fuck it. I trust you. Oh! Then we could go on double dates!”

“Oh my god, you read my mind!” You squeal. “I can’t wait to tell Harry.”

“I’m sure he’ll be relieved I’m not a threat.”

“You weren’t before.”

“Mhm, sure.” He sips his drink. “I’m really glad we did this.”

“Me too.”

Seth walks you to your car and hugs you goodbye. You text Niall when you get home and immediately call Harry.

“Hey! Weird question, but Isaac is confirmed single right?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“I wanna set him up with Seth.”

“I’m…gonna need a little bit of context here.”

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fic #smut #fluff #idk why but loved this part #i stan seth sorry

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saiki-in-jsl · 5 years ago

Text

Selective Mute Saiki Fic (8k)

TW: Forced vomiting, it’s not very detailed(?) I’ll mark it down in bold when it comes so you can skip.

Saiki discovers he has selective mutism and eventually overcomes it with his mom and psychic friends (including Akechi). The time setting for this fic is ambiguous.

Now on ao3!

Also, I’m no expert on this disorder, but I’ve done my fair share of research. This is not 100% accurate, so bear with me.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to speak. He’s fully capable of knowing how to do it, and he knows he can open his mouth to talk.

But he just...can’t.

He knows how to formulate words in his head, and he knows how to say them out loud, but whenever he tries he just stops. Like some unknown force was preventing the words from coming out of his mouth.

It doesn’t bother him at first, after all, he has telepathy and hypnosis to get people thinking he can speak. But the frustration of not being able to open his mouth was starting to get to him.

He can do practically anything, anything at all, yet he can’t get his stupid mouth and vocal chords to work.

The problem resurfaced during an outing with his friends, and somehow they had reached a discussion about satisfied sounds. Sounds like “Ahhhh” when you soak into a nice bath or “Mmmm” after a long day at work.

Teruhashi, unsurprisingly enough, managed to point out how Saiki never seemed to make such noises, even when he was enjoying a nice cup of coffee jelly.

Of course he wouldn’t make those noises through telepathy, there wasn’t a point to them.

He let the conversation slide, not making the effort to deny or agree to any of their points, but the more they talked, the more he realized they were right.

Which was what brought back his frustration issue on not being able to speak.

It was stupid and petty, but not being able to go “Hmmm” in satisfaction as he devour a slice of cake was annoying him. Is he truly enjoying the pastry if all he does is eat it with a small smile?

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Saiki stares at the ground, mouth opening and closing, opening and closing, opening and closing. At this point, even a grunt will make him overjoyed.

An hour passes and he still couldn’t do it. He wonders if he’s going about this the wrong way. Maybe he should see a doctor. But if he does that and someone he knows spots him, what would he even say?

Knowing his friends, if he tried to fake a common illness, they’ll insist on coming over to his home to care for him. Thanks, but no thanks.

Could he ask his bro-- Out of the question, no way, at best he will be a last resort.

After a few more minutes of thinking, Saiki comes to the conclusion that perhaps if he stopped using his telepathy to converse and forced himself to vocally speak, it’ll naturally flow out. If he reaches a point where he has to speak, then it’ll surely come out.

Not the smartest plan, but it has got to work. Otherwise, brother it is…

The moment he woke up, Saiki immediately puts on the telepathy cancelling ring. He knows that since it prevents him from hearing other people’s thoughts, surely it will also prevent him from communicating in telepathy too.

He tests his theory out by heading down for breakfast, greeting his mother good morning as per usual. A moment passes and he’s still standing there, staring right into the back of her head. She hasn’t responded yet.

He tries again.

No answer.

So his theory checks out.

She only notices that he’s there when he pulls up his chair to have breakfast, and she smiles, “Good morning, Kuu!~”

He nods back, using his telepathy one last time just to double check.

An uncomfortable silence stretches over, and his mother starts to worry.

“Are you okay?”

Just say yes. It’s literally the easiest word aside from ‘no’, Saiki stares at her for a long time. He finally gives up and raises his hand, pointing at the ring. His mother blinks in surprise, then smiles in understanding.

“But why?” She asks, turning her head back to the stove. “You’re not even at school yet.”

Ah, she’s right. Maybe he could take it off for now-- No, he started this, and he’s going to make sure he sees it through till the end. He has to remember he’s doing this so he can fully enjoy coffee jelly to its fullest extent!

Which reminds him, he has to eat breakfast before his dad begs him to take him to work with teleportation.

He takes a bite, feeling himself grow soft from the mere taste of the treat. He really couldn’t go wrong with coffee jelly. Though the longer he eats, the more he becomes aware that he isn’t sighing at the wonderful taste, which causes him to feel a bit upset.

Quickly finishing his breakfast, he wants to say goodbye to his mother, and he tries to form the words. Nothing comes out.

He can feel his dad waking up from the room upstairs.

This is fine, he knows he can’t magically gain the ability to speak after years of not uttering a single word, so this will definitely take time.

He leaves without saying anything, and it only pushes him to try harder.

His walk to school is filled with him making noises through his nose on accident. Once or twice he thought he had achieved his goal, only to realize all he did was make a puff of air.

Thank the heavens he isn’t normally a talkative person, otherwise, people in school would’ve questioned why he suddenly went quiet. His school day is filled with chatter and more chatter, and the fact that he can’t respond makes him feel on edge.

“Saiki, can you answer this question?”

Shit. He had forgotten to include this in his plan, now he either has two options; give up and take the ring off to not look suspicious -something he refuses to do-, or make up an excuse why he can’t answer.

The latter requires him to speak though, so that was an issue, nor can he just walk out of it, because now everyone is staring at him and the teacher’s growing inpatient.

He opens his mouth, trying his might to say something. Even an “I don’t know” would suffice.

“Saiki?”

Oh his reputation is on the line now, huh? He can’t even tell what number he is on the popularity rank.

“You know what, just sit down, I’ll pick someone else.”

Oh thank god.

“What was that? Why didn’t you answer?” Kaidou walks over during their ten minute break. “That question was pretty easy, even Nendou could’ve solved it.”

Saiki had anticipated this mission to be hard, but he hadn’t expected it to be this difficult in reality. How is he even suppose to reply to that simple question? A shrug?

“Solve what?” Nendou leans over, hearing someone call his name.

“The question Saiki was told to solve.” Kaidou answers, gesturing to the board.

“Oh. Yeah, pal. Did you get stage fright or something?” Nendou snorts, barely registering the question on the board.

“Saiki can’t have stage fright, he answered questions in front of the class before,” Kaidou protests. They continue bickering about the matter, forgetting about their pink-haired friend.

Looks like the conversation will run smoothly without his input. For now he’ll continue trying to articulate words in his mouth.

P.E rolls in and he finally takes a short break in trying to speak. People will be too out of breath to talk to him, so his silence will seem normal.

“Actually, remember that conversation we had about Saiki not being able to sigh in satisfaction? I don’t think we’ve heard him hiss in pain before either,” Kaidou points, staring off at Saiki in thought. Hairo nods, realizing that too.

“Maybe his endurance is really strong,” Hairo replies.

Saiki wonders if the world is truly against him, or if the world is forcing him to speak as well. His friends are definitely going to try pinching him to see his reaction.

Wait, don’t tell me they’re going to attack me and pretend it’s just regular P.E roughhousing. Saiki watches in horror as Hairo comes up to him, swinging his arm back to give him a hard slap on the back. Saiki hasn’t even done anything to be congratulated for, this was poorly timed!

A quick side step and the disaster was avoided, sending Hairo tumbling forward in surprise from missing.

Although it may have seemed that inflicting pain onto Saiki would’ve worked and forced him to yell in reaction, his body would have handled it just fine since it is practically impenetrable. At most it would’ve felt like a gentle pat.

He just couldn’t risk having Hairo stare at him in confusion and ask why he didn’t react, knowing fully well that slap should’ve hurt.

The rest of the period continued like this, with his friends constantly trying to shove and kick at him, and each attempt was skillfully avoided.

P.E ends and Saiki has yet to vocalize something. Once or twice his friends’ attempt at trying to hit him actually caught him by surprise, but not once did he scream or gasp in shock. Usually this wouldn’t bother him, but due to his recent endeavor, it only frustrates him more.

Changing back into his school uniform, Saiki storms down the hall and heads over to his favorite window spot to take a step back and clear his head. He had already been in situations where he was forced to talk, and there were instances where he could’ve said something but didn’t, so clearly he wasn’t doing something right.

He continues staring into the distance, trying to come up with a better plan. Maybe there really is something wrong with his throat, but then again he knows there isn’t. Call it a gut feeling, or a hunch.

Because whenever he does try to speak, he can feel his vocal chords warming up to voice the words, but it will always stop abruptly and disappear. Much like a sneeze that never comes, it’s painfully annoying.

Unconsciously, his hand began to trail up to his mouth, tracing over his lips before opening them. He tries to think of something to say, though he knows nothing will come out, even if he tries.

TW: Saiki unconsciously tries to force himself to choke so he’ll produce some sort of sound, hoping it’ll be enough, but ends up puking.

His index finger pushes into his mouth.

What if I just...?

Lost in thought and despair, he continues pushing his finger further and further inside until...

Suddenly he’s coughing over the window, and he can feel his lunch coming up his throat. Students who were just passing by stopped in concern, turning their heads over to him to check if he’s okay.

At least he got what he wanted, somewhat, he can hear his voice perfectly from the coughing. It wasn’t any different from the voice he speaks in his head, but it was his voice.

Then he threw up.

TW over

A chorus of screams and disgusted groans resounds around him and it’s only then does he notice that he’s being surrounded by people who were worried for him. He feels a bit claustrophobic, so he makes the attempt to push through the crowd. Luckily, no one wants to be touched by a person who recently puked, so he manages to leave with ease.

A perfectly manicured and well decorated hand stops him from properly escaping, so he turns to see the culprit he expected. Aiura frowns at him and he wishes he could read her mind to know what’s going on.

“You need to go to the nurse,” Aiura says, showing no signs of ulterior motives. “You literally just puked over the window for no reason, you’re clearly not okay.”

He doesn’t need the nurse since he had already restored his body to before he had puked. But he can’t tell her that or to leave him, so he shrugs her hand off and keeps walking. She scoffs in offense, stopping him once more, this time by standing right in front of him with her arms spread wide.

“If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll just figure it out myself,” Aiura threatens. His brows furrow in annoyance and he considers just teleporting away, but he knows she wasn’t joking about finding out the problem herself. The fact that if she does find out herself, he will have no way of stopping her from finding exactly how much, and that’s enough to scare him.

He nods and heads back to class, deciding that he’ll just write his problem down for her instead of using telepathy, because he’s that determine to keep on with his mission.

She reads over what he wrote for her and raises an eyebrow at him, folding the paper, “I didn’t know you had selective mutism.”

He squints at her and she raises both her eyebrows in surprise.

“You don’t know what selective mutism is? That’s surprising. I thought you were a genius or something.

He responds to that with a frown.

She laughs, waving her hand dismissively to show that she was just teasing, then she folds her arms and thinks for a moment, “I don’t entirely know the cause of selective mutism, I just know it’s what you described to me just now. Honestly, it’s weird how you can still communicate telepathically yet you can’t speak normally.”

That’s why I’m trying to force myself to speak, Saiki thinks to himself, still frowning.

“How about I try to find the source of the issue for ya? It’ll be a lot easier for you I think,” Aiura offers, continuing to fold the piece of paper he gave her. “No strings attached. As much as I find this hilarious, it’s pretty sad.”

The frown disappears and he blinks in surprise. That would actually help a lot, and it seems like she hasn’t made a connection to this issue and the puking problem he had earlier, which is a relief.

She takes the look of surprise as a yes and she begins to tear the paper she folded into pieces, scattering them about on Saiki’s table by blowing them off her hand. She stares at the pieces intensely while Saiki watches the whole thing with a look of...well, this part barely amazes him, so all he does is watch, really.

“I see,” Aiura nods in understanding. “Looks like the issue started when you were a kid.”

I know that yes.

“Around the time you started school.”

Obviously. Keep going.

“And it has something to do with your powers.”

Good grief, just get to the point.

“Specifically your telepathy.”

My...telepathy? Saiki adjusts the ring around his finger. Looks like I got that down right.

“That’s all it really says. The cause started in your first year of school and telepathy is somehow linked to it.” Aiura stares at the shredded pieces of paper some more. “Y’know, I expected more, considering how large your aura is. Maybe it’ll help if you read into selective mutism more, or ask your parents if they know anything.”

The chances of his parents being of use to this situation is a close 0, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Though, this selective mutism thing might be a good lead too.

He wants to say thanks, but the words are stuck and he can’t force them out like a cough.

He struggles for a moment, staring into Aiura’s eyes.

She turns a bit red from the intensity, not what he was going for, but he’ll take it. She looks away, smiling, “Jeez, you’re welcome. Stop hurting yourself.”

But he can’t get hurt.

After discovering a lead to his problem, he stops forcing himself to speak in school and remains silent for the rest of the day. He still interacts with people -or rather, he still listens and politely nods when needed to- but there were times where he would internally panic from the sudden quietness around him before realizing it was because of his telepathy cancelling ring.

If he closed his eyes, he could pretend the silence around him was caused by total isolation.

The bell rings, signalling school dismissal, and he gathers his things to leave. He wants to get home immediately to search up ‘selective mutism’ so he can finally get to the bottom of his situation, but he’s sure his friends will somehow stop him and ask to hang out.

It’s either because his friends are really good at convincing him to join or he’s too weak to say ‘no’ that he knows he cannot decline them so easily. In fact, as of this moment, somehow he’s being dragged along by Kaidou and Nendou for ramen again without him even noticing.

“You’re quieter than usual today,” Kuboyasu says, falling into step next to Saiki.

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Kaidou adds, looking over at the two. “You barely spoke today, probably not at all!”

“That’s why we’re getting ramen! We figured you were upset today, so we thought that might cheer you up,” Nendou grins, shooting his friend a thumbs up and a wink.

We always get ramen though, so what exactly is the difference? Saiki deadpans in his head.

“Huh, I expected him to seem more excited,” Nendou frowns, rather disappointed.

“Stupid, we’re always getting ramen, of course he wouldn’t react,” Kaidou scolds, rolling his eyes. “We should do something better! Something more exciting.”

Please, let me go home, Saiki sighs within his head watching as the three began to think of a good idea to cheer their friend up. They weren’t wrong about him being upset though, he was feeling bitter in the morning, but after a talk with Aiura, he felt better.

“How about the convenience store? We can eat something there and browse their manga,” Kuboyasu suggests. Not the coolest idea, but it’s mundane, something Saiki prefers, and it surprises Saiki how thoughtful it was.

“Just so you know, I still think ramen is better,” Nendou comments, but Kaidou immediately jumped onto Kuboyasu’s idea, nodding his head in agreement.

Good grief, it seems like Saiki won’t be home any time soon.

Saiki is not having fun.

He’s itching to go home right now, but due to good morals, he can’t just leave them. Not when they’re doing this for him. He distracts himself with sweets and manga, though he soon grows impatient the longer he waits for this outing to wrap up.

Judging by his friends’ interactions, however, it seems like they didn’t even need Saiki here, which makes him wonder what the point of this outing was anyway. Looks they won’t notice if he leaves.

“So are you going to tell us why you’re so quiet today?”

He stands corrected. Saiki looks up from the manga he was browsing and barely reacts to Kuboyasu's question.

“Is this some sort of silent treatment? What did we do?” Kuboyasu presses on, possibly on the verge of losing his temper yet again.

Saiki wishes he could tell him the truth, but instead, he continues staring at him before blinking extremely slowly.

“WHAT’S WITH THAT ATTITUDE, WE’RE TRYING TO BE NIC--” Before Kuboyasu could lunge himself onto Saiki, Kaidou holds him down, laughing nervously.

“We’re just concerned for you,” the blue-haired boy says as Kuboyasu growls from his restraint. “We heard you threw up over the window and just walked off.”

Rumors do spread fast huh, Saiki thinks.

“I told you the ramen idea was better, I bet he’s hungry,” Nendou gestures angrily.

“He already ate something here, and we’re here so he can have fun,” Kaidou argues back, then he pauses and glances back at Saiki. “Are...you having fun?”

Well that’s easy, all he has to do it nod--

“Don’t you think it’s better to ask what’s up?” Kuboyasu huffs, eyeing Saiki suspiciously.

Good grief. Should he just give up and take the ring off? He already has a lead, so there isn’t a point in keeping it on. But then again, he did promise himself that he’ll see this mission through, so giving up still isn’t an option.

Saiki opens his mouth to speak, but instead of words, he exhales air out. Through his nose.

“Did you lose your voice?” Nendou laughs, pointing at Saiki teasingly.

He could go with that, sure. Saiki immediately nods and Nendou blinks in surprise, not expecting to be actually right. Kaidou sighs in relief, running a hand through his hair, “Oh, that explains a lot. Sorry for making you stay then, we can go home if you want.”

Saiki nods again. Finally, he can search up ‘selective mutism’ and fix his issue. The next time they see him, he’ll definitely be speaking through his mouth.

“Selective mutism is a severe anxiety disorder.”

Saiki pauses, hand resting on the cursor as he thought about it. He doesn’t have anxiety. Does he? He keeps reading and so far most of the things listed down to describe the disorder checks out with him;

“It’s not that they don’t want to talk, they literally can’t” Yep, that’s what’s happening to him.

“Expectation to speak triggers a freeze response, causing them to panic” He doesn’t necessarily panic or freeze up, he just switches to telepathy when he wants to speak. Maybe it’s a substitute sort of defense mechanism?

“Will avoid situations where they do have to speak.” That’s...pretty spot on. It isn’t a secret that Saiki adores peace and isolated environments.

“Able to speak freely with people they trust.” This one stumps him, because he hasn’t met anyone he trusts enough to speak to. Not even his parents. Still, a majority of the things listed describes his problem, so this is definitely it.

He continues scrolling until he reaches the part where it talks about the causes. He leans in closer to the screen, slowly down his speed as he reads them carefully. He skips the first suggested cause, since it was regarding being too distressed to speak, and he knows for sure that’s not it.

The second one looked more promising. ‘Sensory integration dysfunction’, it makes the person shut down when they’re in an overwhelmingly busy environment, like loud noises and busy crowds. He vaguely remembers feeling like that once, maybe back in grade school and a bit before Kusuke gifted him his limiters.

Back when...oh. That’s what Aiura meant by telepathy, aside from the fact that he uses it to talk.

When he was younger, Saiki had gone through many instances where he could not handle the amount of thoughts passing into his brain. It was endurable at first, when it was only just him and his family, but the moment he had set foot onto school grounds, his head had exploded.

He could barely hear himself over the loud voices from the other children, but to also hear their thoughts too? Even when the other kids weren’t speaking, Saiki could hear what they were thinking loud and clear, which basically discouraged him from speaking out loud.

He hadn’t realized this of course, because immediately after discovering the situation he was in, he came up with a solution; he used telepathy to communicate with instead. By using telepathy, his own words would seem the loudest among the rest, unlike his own voice, so he gradually fell into the habit of just using telepathy to talk.

But if that was the case, why wasn’t he able to speak when he managed to block out telepathic thoughts? He should probably look for professional help.

“Oh, Kuu, you still have that ring on?” His mother asks, sitting down to have dinner with the family.

“What ring? Why do you have a ring? Did you finally--” His father wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making Saiki frown in irritation.

“Darling, it cancels his telepathy, so he can’t hear our thoughts and he can’t talk to us.”

“Why would he do that?”

I am literally right here. Saiki stares at the two as they converse about him. He digs through his pocket and brings out his phone, showing them the website he had researched ‘selective mutism’ on.

It takes a while for them to understand him as he holds it up for them a while longer. His father squints at it in confusion, then he connects the dots when he shifts his eyes towards Saiki.

He laughs, waving his chopsticks, “You can’t have selective mutism, you can talk just fine!”

Saiki contemplates ruining his father’s dinner.

His mother shoots her son a sympathetic look, cupping her own cheek, “Well, it does explain why you never use your mouth to speak. Are you trying to relearn how to speak with your mouth? Is that why you put on that ring, to force yourself to speak vocally? But it didn’t seem to work so you tried finding the source of the issue instead and found this disorder that perfectly explains your problem?”

Saiki nods. This is the reason why he prefers his mother much more than his father. Maybe he should take the ring off, it’s being more of a pain than a help to him, and it’ll be easier to converse if he does. Before he does though, his mother speaks again, this time her voice was serious and he can tell she’s being serious.

“Do you need Kusuke to help?”

He wanted to save that as a last resort, and secretly, he was hoping he wouldn’t actually resort to it. But it was either him or an actual doctor, and Saiki knows that if he does go to the doctor about it, he’ll have to tell them about his powers. Something he wants to avoid.

Besides, his brother was the one who had created his limiters, surely he must’ve known about Saiki’s selective mutism at some point.

So, despite really wanting to, Saiki doesn’t say no.

Kusuke arrives exactly after his family finishes their dinner, he figured it’s better to be there in person to help rather than on the TV, much to Saiki’s irritation, and waltzes into the house with a warm smile.

Saiki only replies with a blank look of annoyance.

“I didn’t get a PhD for psychology, but I’ll try my best,” Kusuke says, taking a seat on the couch. “Maybe I should...too bad I’m back in Japan for good! Aw, Kusuo, don’t look at me like that! I’m still here to help, aren’t I? Now tell me what’s wrong exactly.”

You probably figured it out yourself already, why do I have to recount it for you? Saiki narrows his eyes at his brother as he joins him on the couch. It’s not like Kusuke can hear him anyways, even without the ring, his brother still had that dumb telepathy canceler.

Kusuke reads Saiki’s expression like an open book, easily deciphering what it meant, “Oh, well, there’s only so much I can discover myself. It’s better to hear it in full detail from you!”

Saiki responds to that by tossing his phone to Kusuke, showing the same thing he had shown to his parents.

“Well, I did suspect this once or twice, yes. Since we were kids you never really spoke, and even after I moved away you still refused to speak. Tried to make it easier on you with the little limiters, but you just stubbornly stuck to your habit,” Kusuke chuckles, tossing Saiki’s phone back, “and what I’m guessing from this current dilemma of yours is that you can’t tell why you’re still sticking to your habit either. You even tried forcing yourself to speak, but nothing comes out, no matter how hard you try. So here’s what I think: You’re still afraid that if you speak out loud.”

Saiki stands and takes to the stairs to leave. Don’t get him wrong, he isn’t offended, he just thinks his brother had just wasted his time. That was possibly the dumbest answer he has ever heard. He’s not afraid of speaking, it’s got to be something else.

“Oh come on, Kusuo, it’s easy to tell you hate drawing attention to yourself. Telepathy helps you keep a low profile while still being able to talk to others, it makes one to one conversations easier, so it’s obvious to think that’s the reason why you prefer it so much till now,” Kusuke explains straightforwardly, “but if you think about it, the reason back then was because your words kept getting drowned out by others. Childhood trauma, you thought you fixed it, but it’s still there. You’ve been unconsciously using your defense mechanism even when you don’t need it anymore. So I’m going to assume the reason you can’t properly speak now is because when you try, your brain automatically goes back to the time you were afraid of having your words get drowned out.

“In short, you got so used to your training wheels, you think you’re riding a two wheel bike! You’re trying to get rid of the training wheels, but you’re afraid you’ll fall without them, even though you won’t!” Kusuke laughs, watching the gears turn in Saiki’s head. Slowly, things fell into place inside Saiki’s head, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, his brother might be right.

He still doesn’t have a solution though, he wants to verbally speak now.

“It’s probably something that takes time, don’t be so impatient,” his mother gently places a hand on his shoulder warmly, smiling softly up at him.

“Yeah, but for now, don’t force yourself. You’ve probably already hurt yourself out of stress,” Kusuke adds.

Saiki hates that he’s right.

The next day, Saiki decides to not wear his telepathy cancelling ring like his mother had instructed, and went downstairs to have breakfast.

He greets his mother good morning with telepathy and she smiles, chiming a ‘good morning’ back.

“Remember, Kuu, don’t force yourself. Speak when you’re comfortable,” she reminds him as he takes a seat at the table. He nods before starting his breakfast. “No one’s rushing you, okay?”

Good grief, I’m not a child, Saiki silently eats his food, slowly rubbing his thumb on the spoon. I know how to handle myself.

His walk to school is yet again uneventful, just the way he likes it, and he spends the whole walk trying to practice speaking. Unlike yesterday, he’s doing it at his own pace and there’s less forcing this time.

He accidentally chokes on his spit, but other than that, nothing. Oh well.

Toritsuka catches him along the hallways, shooting him a pouty look as he asks, “If you were having troubles, why didn’t you tell me? I can channel the spirit of a psychiatrist if you want!”

Saiki holds a hand up to tell him to stop, and proceeds to tell him that he already has the issue under control. Toritsuka sighs in defeat and points at him with a serious look, “Tell me next time though!”

I’d rather not. I don’t want to owe you anything, Saiki frowns and proceeds to walk off, making Toritsuka to sulk even more.

Entering the classroom, he’s immediately blocked by Akechi, who smiles up at him with his usual wide-eyed look.

“I noticed yesterday you weren’t talking a lot, you don’t often speak so it wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary to some, but you barely spoke a word. Even when the teacher called on you, which was really weird, and I noticed you wore a ring yesterday too but now you’re not wearing it today, and you seem to be back to your usual speaking self when I saw you with Toritsuka. So I’m assuming the ring somehow prevents you from using that you know what. But why would you do that? Well I’m guessing it’s because you want to be able to normally speak with your mouth, but obviously you can’t, so you might have selec--“

Akechi stops talking when Saiki shoots him a warning look, making the former cover his mouth instantly. Saiki looks around the classroom to see if anyone else heard his friend’s loud mouth and is relieved to know that no one heard him.

“I apologize,” Akechi finally says after uncovering his mouth. Saiki rolls his eyes and walks to his seat, closing his eyes when he sits down.

Slow and steady. He’ll get his results soon. He can’t rush speaking. He can’t rush speaking. He can’t rush--

“Can you speak now?” Aiura whispers to him, squatting next to his desk. He silently frowns at her, answering her question with that. She nervously laughs and scratches the back of her head, “Well, that’s unfortunate. But I’m gonna assume you at least found a solution.”

He looks away, not responding to her, but she takes it as a yes.

“Here’s an idea, how about you try reading aloud from a book or something?” Aiura suggests, refusing to leave him alone. “You’re technically not having a conversation when you’re doing that.”

Saiki blinks. Then he blinks again as he thinks about it. It wasn’t a bad idea, really. It might just work.

“Are you going to keep ignoring me?” Aiura whined, resting her chin on his desk. “Just tell me it’s a shitty idea if you think it is!”

No, it’s...a really good idea, Saiki smiles softly. Honestly, why didn’t he think of it sooner? He loves reading, so the idea should’ve struck him from the beginning!

She grins back at him and stands up to leave, shooting him a thumbs up, “There you have it! Good luck then!”

Alright.

A good book he really enjoys? Check.

Complete isolation within school grounds? Check.

Telepathy cancelling ring he specifically teleported home to grab before lunch to use? Check.

He closes his eyes and listens. It’s pin drop silent. Perfect, just the way he likes it. He crosses his eyes and uses clairvoyance to check if anyone is going to come by and bother him. Nope. Good.

Okay, now for the book.

He flips it open to the first page and opens his mouth, eyeing the first word. He makes sure he isn’t rushing himself or trying too hard, but it’s rather difficult for someone as impatient as he is. He certainly feels a lot calmer now that he knows that he’s alone, but the prickling sensation in the back of his neck that makes him think someone is coming distracts him a little.

Minutes go by and he’s starting to realize that this isn’t working.

He reaches home and is met with a welcoming smile from his mother, which makes him smile a little too. She happily walks over to him, holding onto his arm, “Any progress?”

He shakes his head.

“Aw, that’s unfortunate. That’s okay though, keep trying!”

Saiki responds by digging into his bag and bringing out the book he tried to read earlier.

His mother stares, and she squeals, bringing her hands to her lips to contain her excitement, “When you were younger, we never got the chance to teach you or your brother how to read aloud and speak. I felt like I was missing out as a mother, but I can finally do that with you now!”

Ah, she must have misinterpreted what him holding the book up had meant. He wanted to tell her he’s practicing on his own how to speak, and maybe she should leave him alone so it’s easier. But she looks so happy and excited, he can’t bring himself to say no.

It’s at this moment Saiki realizes he’s weak at saying no to anyone at all.

He’s nervous. He can’t say anything. Not when his mother is staring at him with a gentle smile. She’s not forcing him and she’s being rather patient with him, after repeating the same word seven times, she’s still waiting.

That’s what makes him nervous.

He doesn’t know what she’s thinking, not when he has the ring on, and so he doesn’t know what reaction she’ll have if he ends up making a strangled cat noise. Or worse, not making any sound at all.

And oh jeez, did he accidentally turn on his pyrokinesis? Because it’s getting a bit too warm for him. He’s sweating and his lips aren’t even open, they’re pressed tightly together. Too tight. He wonders if he should pry his mouth open like last time.

“Kuu, it’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” his mother reassures, and he only starts noticing he’s making the furniture float with his powers from stress. “When you’re ready.”

He nods. He wants to leave.

She repeats the word for him again.

He has dinner and immediately goes to bed afterwards. Words spoken today: None.

He has a new routine now.

Every morning he keeps the ring in his pocket and has breakfast, greeting his mother good morning before sitting down. He quickly digs in before his father wakes up and leaves home for school. His walk to school is filled with him opening and closing his mouth, and he’s gotten so used to it, he does it unconsciously on his walk to school now.

He still interacts with his friends, but it’s only lunch when he fully isolates himself to read a book. Most of the times he ends up giving up, properly reading in his head, and other times he stares at the exact same word for the whole duration of lunch until the bell rings.

He starts hanging out with Nendou and the rest less, and immediately heads home so he can continue trying with his mother, who’s still ever so patient with him. Weekends are spent with him reading alone in some deserted area.

This goes on for about two weeks and a half, until Kaidou finally notices his lack of appearance.

There’s still not much progress, but at least he feels less nervous with his mom now. Other than that, nothing.

“Saiki, you wanna come over to my place tomorrow? We’re all going to study together for that Japanese test,” Kaidou says. He had long dropped the habit of using his chuunibyou references for normal conversations. He still clips into that persona from time to time, especially in larger crowds, but rarely ever with close friends.

Saiki raises a brow at him. He might have to turn now, considering how usually all their study sessions always end up with them just hanging out. Not to mention it’s useless for him to study since he’s already so smart.

“We as in,” Kaidou mistakes the eyebrow raise as a question to who ‘we’ are, “all of us but Mera and Hairo. Mera’s busy with work and Hairo’s busy with training.”

That barely explains who ‘we’ are, though, Saiki deadpans to himself.

“So are you coming?”

Saiki sighs, Probably no--

“You are most definitely going!” His mother says and he wonders how she could’ve possibly known. To answer that, she adds, “Kairou’s mother told me of course!”

Good grief, Saiki rolls his eyes, sitting down at the table to practice speaking as usual.

“You need a social life, Kuu. What’s the point of learning how to speak if you’re not going to talk to anyone?” She nags, sitting directly across from him.

He doesn’t want to tell her he’s only learning because he wants to vocally sigh in pleasure from the beautiful taste of coffee jelly and other sweets.

“Your little brother is so cute, ha ha,” Aiura dotes, poking at Toki. The little boy immediately runs away from her and hides behind Kaidou, looking up at his older brother.

“Are you having a meeting fo--” He’s cut short by Kaidou, who covers his mouth from embarrassment.

“My room is this way,” Kaidou nervously laughs, hand still over Toki’s mouth as he walks.

Today is going to be a long day.

They begin by actually studying for five minutes straight, until Yumehara starts eating from stress and Nendou decides to wander off to play on Kaidou’s console. Aiura begins focusing on decorating her notebook instead of actually doing her work and Kuboyasu’s distracted talking to Kaidou about something unrelated to the Japanese test.

Teruhashi is the only one that looks like she’s focused, but even she’s having troubles studying because she’s sitting right next to Saiki and her mind is a mess from panic and excitement. All he can tell from his telepathy is that she’s waiting for the moment where Saiki gets stumped and she’ll swoop in to save him.

Not happening. Besides, he’s already done.

“W-Wow, you’re...fast,” she says, leaning over. Ah, now she’s trying to make him gasp from close contact. Good grief.

Fast forward and now it’s very clear they’re all distracted. They’re laughing about...something, and he’s busy tracing his eyes over a word and practicing it over and over in his head. Then the laughter dies and someone calls his name, so he looks up.

“You okay?” Teruhashi asks, looking concerned for him. “You’re not laughing. Are you not enjoying yourself?”

Isn’t that something Kaidou should ask as the host? Saiki deadpans, holding a hand up to signal he’s fine.

“Maybe he has a different sense of humor,” Yumehara says. “How about we all try to make him laugh?”

Good grief, this is just a waste of t-- And Nendou’s taking off his pants. A classic playground move. Unfortunately, Saiki never found butt jokes all that funny.

They each have a go at trying to make Saiki laugh, ranging from ludicrous acts to extremely terrible jokes, none of which amuses him.

In fact, the more they try, the more cramped he feels. They’re talking and talking and all he can hear are words that are so loud it hurts. It’s probably because of the close proximity between all of them that makes Saiki able to hear all their thoughts nice and clear, but the fact that they’re all thinking at the same time makes it even louder.

Nendou’s the only one he can’t hear from, but he’s also busy making stranger lip noises that can only make an infant giggle.

Then it gets too loud and his head starts hurting and his mouth feels dry. They all want him to laugh. He can’t.

And putting on the ring now would seem weird.

So he stands, making them all stop in confusion, and he excuses himself to use the bathroom. It’s when he finally shuts the door behind him that he feels at peace.

Good grief, looks like he’ll take a short break in the bathroom before going back.

He passes by Toki’s room and notices the boy quietly reading by himself -probably studying- though what actually made Saiki pause to look is the fact that Toki’s mouth is still moving, yet no sound comes out.

The idea hits him like a train, and he feels stupid yet again.

He’s been way too focused on moving his mouth for the purpose of actually speaking that he never realizes that maybe he doesn’t necessarily need to vocalize something in order to move his mouth. He can just mouth the words as he reads, getting used to the feeling of using his mouth to speak, then ease himself into learning how to talk from there.

So maybe this study session wasn’t a disaster after all.

He returns to Kaidou’s room with a small smile that nearly shocks the entire room.

Oh come on, it’s not like he never smiles.

He copies Toki’s technique the next time he’s practicing reading aloud and it changes things, just a little. As predicted, he feels more at ease whenever he’s reading with his mother. He hasn’t spoken yet, but he’s not getting that crushing feeling anymore, it’s more of a small sting now.

Once or twice he manages to make a noise, but not a single coherent word comes out.

A whole week goes by and it’s a Saturday, his mother is relaxing on the couch with him and he’s mouthing out the words from the book he’s reading. It’s a peaceful day and no one’s here to bother him, so he can practice without having to worry about being dragged away on some bizarre adventure.

“Kusuo!” Ugh, he thought too soon. Saiki looks up from his book, his mouth snapping shut so fast it makes a loud clicking sound. His father is smiling nervously at him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

No, Saiki immediately responds with telepathy, then he slips the ring back on and goes back to reading.

“It’s nothing you can’t handle though,” his father says, rubbing his hands together to beg.

No. He knows his father can’t hear him, but he’s thinking it over and over in his head.

“Please, just hear me out.”

No.

“Please, it’s--”

“No!” Saiki snaps, growling at his dad. His mother jumps in surprise and even his father falls back from shock. For a second, he doesn’t realize why they’re so shaken, until he slaps his hand onto his mouth.

His mother wraps her arms around him, jumping from pure joy, “Your first words! I’m so proud of you! We should celebrate, let’s go to the cafe! Order as many coffee jellies as you like.”

Saiki literally lights up, and he’s smiling at the thought of enjoying his coffee jelly to its fullest extent. He couldn’t wait to sigh in content.

“Uhm, what about…?” Her husband points, wondering if they can settle his problem first before going.

“Come on! We’ve got to celebrate, we should invite Kusuke too!”

Saiki immediately sours and he starts weighing his pros and cons. He gets to have coffee jelly if they go out, as much as he wants. Kusuke might be there to bother him.

As expected, Saiki would rather endure his brother’s pressing curiosity than give up his chance at having unlimited coffee jelly from a cafe he likes.

Kusuke doesn’t talk, he merely watches Saiki chew silently, and smiles. He offers to pay for his parents so they wouldn’t have to worry about Saiki bankrupting them.

“You spoke your first words?” Kusuke finally says.

Saiki nods, still enjoying his treat.

“Care to demonstrate?”

Of course he’d ask that. Saiki’s still pretty new at this, so he can’t exactly say words on command. They just...come out. Oh but he knows one word:

“No,” Saiki whispers, so soft it’s almost inaudible. Kusuke grins a bit too wide in response, and it nearly makes Saiki lose his appetite. Nearly.

“Aw, he’s like a little kitten,” Kusuke snorts, moving one of the empty plates on the table with his finger.

Thank goodness his grandfather isn’t here then.

“We should visit your grandparents to show them too!” His mother happily suggests. Well god damn then.

Saiki wonders if it’s possible to brainwash everyone into thinking he was a quiet talker the whole time. There’s no way anyone is going to not notice the change in volume, his telepathy is louder than his current voice by a whole lot.

He decides it’s better to practice speaking with the people who know about his powers. At least they’ll understand, and he figures talking in conversations would help improve his speech skills. He’ll still practice with books, but he’ll have to try actually talking now.

“HA HA HA, YOUR VOICE, IT’S SO SOFT, LIKE A SHY GIRL!” Toritsuka points and Saiki instantly regrets letting him in on this. The medium quickly shuts up upon seeing the offended look on Saiki’s face.

“Oh, so you really did have selective mutism, huh? I can see why you wanted me to keep it a secret, considering it’ll seem strange to everyone else since you use telepathy to communicate and blurting that out wouldn’t make sense. So you want to practice talking to us to ease into the whole talking thing? I’m sure we can help. But as someone who doesn’t talk all that much, I’ll try my best to help but I won’t guarantee--” Akechi is promptly interrupted by Aiura, who has had enough of his babbling.

She cuts in, smiling proudly, “You can count on us! Want me to see your fortune so we can know the probability of success?”

“No,” Saiki whispers, yet again too soft.

“Oh, you really do sound like a cute shy dude,” Aiura flushes.

Saiki wonders if Plan A is still up for grabs.

“Why don’t we ask you some simple questions?” Akechi suggests, looking ready to sprout a waterfall of questions for Saiki to answer. It’s a bit overwhelming to hear him talk so much, but he’ll have to do.

Saiki nods, agreeing to it.

“What’s your type?” Toritsuka immediately asks. “Curvy bodies? Big breasts?”

“No.” It’s firm and slightly louder, which makes Toritsuka shuffle backwards in panic.

“How many close family members do you have?” Aiura butts in, grinning.

That should be easy. Five.

Saiki nearly holds up his hand instead of actually answering. He takes a few seconds, struggling as he did. It barely shows he is, but the three other people watching leans in closer and closer each second he doesn’t answer, and it makes him want to run away again.

“..ve.” Saiki finally mumbles out.

“Come again?” They’re so close to his face, he can almost feel their breaths against his face. He isn’t liking this one bit.

His mouth instantly seals shut from stress.

“Sorry, sorry, space,” Toritsuka holds his hands up and takes a step back, dragging the other two along with him. “This feels weird. You’re always like, really powerful, y’know? But here you are, looking terrified about speaking.”

“Am not,” Saiki bites back.

“If you say so, alright, next question!”

“Saiki, I was wondering,” Teruhashi nervously fiddled with her hands behind her back, “is there a reason why you’ve been hanging out with m- us less?”

Saiki expected this. Practicing to speak with books has caused him to have less free time to spend with his friends, and it wouldn’t take long for them to notice this. He currently couldn’t think of a believable good excuse to say and it’s not like he can just walk away from this.

Teruhashi begins to worry as she watches him just stand there without a word. After what seemed like forever, she decides to drop the matter and smiles, “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. Bye!” And she walks off quicker than usual.

Crisis averted?

He walks down the stairs, and for the first time ever, he greets his mother ‘good morning’ with a smile and from his mouth.

It’s soft, but not as quiet as his first words, and it’s soft enough for you to know he doesn’t talk a lot. Which is perfect for a person like him.

His mother smiles so wide, it almost looks painful, and she throws her arms around her son, squeezing him tight, “Good morning to you too! Good morning!”

His walk to school is uneventful, much like the ones he had before he learnt how to speak, and he finds it rather pleasant because the whole mouth exercise was beginning to grow annoying.

It had almost taken him three months to get to this point. Three months of relentless practicing. He feels proud of himself.

“Think fast! Today’s day, go!” Toritsuka points and Saiki blinks, staring at him.

“Monday.”

“You’re getting pretty good! Y’know, since I helped you,” Toritsuka pretends to be busy checking his nails, then he slyly looks up, only to find Saiki already walking off. “Hey!”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Wow, that’s a long sentence, ha ha,” Toritsuka falls into step next to him.

Saiki walks a bit faster, trying to lose him, “You’re surprised because you didn’t help much. Akechi did most of the work.” His voice trails off if he talks too much, so Toritsuka had to lean in slightly to hear the last part better.

“No fair, the guy talks faster than a bullet train, of course he’d do more,” Toritsuka complains.

“All you asked me was what type of women I was into,” Saiki frowns.

“You still haven’t answered me, by the way.”

“Already did.”

“No isn’t an answer.”

Saiki enters his classroom and promptly shuts the door in front of the other’s face, which basically translates to: “Yes it is.”

“Hello!” Aiura waves just as he turns around from the door.

“Hi.” He replies easily and takes a seat.

Aiura immediately beams, skipping over, “Did you finally do it?”

Saiki shrugs.

“Well I think he can do it now, I just saw him talking to Toritsuka just fine, unless anger boosts your speech? In which case, that would make sense too, because people who are angry tend to do things impulsively, but then again, you’re in a good mood, so it can only mean you can speak now!” Akechi drops by, looking just as excited as Aiura is. “But there’s only one way we can test that.”

Saiki pales inwardly as he realizes what Akechi is about to say due to telepathy.

You know what, at least this slice of cake tastes great.

He has, yet again, been convinced to join another outing, but Akechi says it’s his final test.

Everyone seems to be talking, but none of it interests him, he’s only here because of the sweets, and it looks like no one is going to bother him either, so he might as well enjoy.

“Mm,” he hums, biting into another slice of cake.

“Did he just...?” Kaidou pauses, staring. Everyone’s staring along as well, just as surprised as Kaidou is.

Saiki stops smiling almost instantly upon noticing the sudden attention he is receiving, “Good grief, what’s so surprising?”

Teruhashi’s eyes are so wide, it could almost pop off her sockets, “This...feels weird.”

“Was his voice always this...soft?” Yumehara whispers over to Teruhashi. “It feels like the first time I’ve ever heard it.”

Everyone else agrees along with her. Oh well, it doesn’t matter what they think, as long as Saiki gets to enjoy his sweets with a sigh of satisfaction, then all is well.

Saiki sighs, taking another bite.

#saiki kusou #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #the disasterous life of saiki k #Saiki Kusuo no PSI Nan #saiki kusuke #aiura mikoto #toritsuka reita #akechi touma #kaidou shun #kuboyasu aren #nendou riki #teruhashi kokomi #yumehara chiyo

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